"I know."
"So what the hell are you doing out here?" Troy propped his elbows on the railing, gazing bleakly out over the parking lot, watching snowflakes dancing in the porch light. The gravel was blanketed by a couple inches of snow that shimmered under the full moon, a single set of tire tracks already disappearing under fresh snowfall.
"I'm waiting for you to tell me what crawled up your ass and died," Zeke said calmly.
Despite his foul mood, a smile played at the corner of Troy's lips. In the not so distant past, he would've punched Zeke in the mouth for poking at him like that. Now, he was close to laughing.
Things changed.
But not all things.
"Ah, you know how it is. I just don't like winter much." Troy lifted his mug and drained his second beer.
Zeke gave a grunt of understanding. "It gets better, you know," he said solemnly.
Troy shoved off the rail and turned to face the other alpha, his smile abruptly disappearing. "What does? Winter?"
Zeke shrugged. "And all the shit that comes with it. The time. The boredom. The loneliness."
Fuck that. Troy spoke before thinking. "I'm not lonely."
"Really?" Zeke said, looking off somewhere past the tree line of the forest that bordered Evander's on all sides. "It's just that some people might wonder why you're here on a Monday night losing all your money to me."
"I'm also here every Friday night balls deep in one of Nicky's girls," Troy shot back.
Zeke's smirk returned, though at least he had the grace to cover it with a fake cough. "I don't think that proves what you think it does."
"Maybe you can go weeks at a time without getting off with a girl," Troy said, "but I can't. I guess my blood just runs hotter than yours."
Zeke shook his head slowly, his expression turning cold. "You of all people should know that's not true. You've seen what I do to anyone stupid enough to stand in my way."
It was true. Troy had seen Zeke covered in blood, driven by pure rage. The man was as fearsome as any brother in the Boundarylands.
"Well, some of us like to fight," Troy said, backing down. "And some of us like to fuck."
"I'm just saying that we all get to a point where we crave something more," Zeke said.
Troy shook his head. Why this bastard had picked tonight of all nights to try to get inside his head, he had no idea.
"What I don't get is why you're acting like some old sage talking to a pup. You may be five years older than me, Zeke, but you haven't been here any longer than I have."
"Six," the alpha said, his scowl giving way to a hint of a smile.
"Do Nicky's girls charge you double, old man? 'Cause they sure deserve hazard pay for having to put up your ugly-ass face."
Zeke laughed. "Come on. I'll buy you another beer with the money you lost to me. Least I can do since you won't be able to afford a girl this week."
"Fuck you," Troy said, but they were already headed back in.
He didn't make it to the door, though.
Zeke turned with his hand on the doorknob when they both caught the sound of an engine—old, tired, and still miles away.
But coming closer down the Central Road.
Troy tilted back his head and tested the air. Whoever it was, they weren't close enough for him to discern much from the scent.
But what he could sense only darkened his mood.
"Beta," he muttered.
"And not one we know," Zeke agreed.
Troy sensed a faint but distinctive note to the beta's scent. "And female."
"Shit," Zeke muttered. "That can't be good."
No kidding.
It had been a strange year in the Boundarylands. It seemed like every time a woman showed up—one who didn't work for Nicky, anyway—trouble wasn't far behind.
Troy returned to leaning on the railing, waiting. Every second brought the car closer, telling a story of its own.
The engine reeked of hot oil. Whoever was behind the wheel had pushed the machine hard for hours, but hadn't maintained the vehicle well enough for the job. The belts whined. The tires barely had enough tread left to keep themselves on the icy pavement. Whoever it was, they'd been incredibly lucky not to wipe out on the snowy roads.
It was a miracle that the woman had made it this far.
And if she had any brains in her head, she'd turn around now.
But Troy already knew that she wasn't going to. With every passing second, he could sense a little more of the woman's determination. Her desperation.
This beta was hellbent on getting to Evander's.
Troy couldn't sense her destination, of course. But he didn't have to. He knew there was no other place she could be headed. Evander's Bar was the only establishment considered neutral territory in this part of the Boundarylands. It was the only place she could go.
"I can send her on her way if you want to go back in and get that beer," Zeke said, his voice revealing a faint uneasiness.
Troy waved off the offer. He didn't give a crap how cold it was out here, or how long he had to wait for this piece-of-shit car to pull into the lot. He was going to be waiting when the stranger got out.
Because Zeke only had it half right. Troy might—might—be a little lonely, but he was definitely bored as hell. Short days and long nights with nothing but beer and the prospect of getting his ass kicked in pool every night had left him crawling the walls, desperate for a distraction.
This stranger careening toward him might be a goddamn idiot, but she was bound to be a distracting one…at least for as long as it took to scare her back the way she'd come.
Troy stifled a grin of anticipation as the smell of smoking brake pads drifted through the trees.
"Double or nothing on that cash I just lost, that she hits the trash can on the side of the building when she makes the turn," Troy said.
Zeke paused. "Just one can, or all of them?"
A mechanical shriek filled the air as the driver hit the brakes coming around the corner.
"Every last one."
"Deal."
A top-heavy panel van shot into view, taking the turn into the parking lot way too fast. If it had been a dry summer day, she might have been all right.
But she'd picked crap weather for her visit. Her brakes locked mid-turn, and she overcompensated. The bald tires spun uselessly on the hard-packed snow, drifting hard to the right. Troy folded his arms and watched the vehicle slide through the parking lot like a slow-mo disaster—and one by one, the trash cans went down like bowling pins.
The crash of twisting metal echoed through the trees around them, and seconds later, Ty rushed out onto the porch, his face red with rage.
"Fucking betas!" he bellowed. "Was she aiming for my trash?"
Troy didn't say a word. He simply held his hand out behind him and smiled as the bill hit his palm.
"How did you know that was going to happen?" Zeke demanded.
Troy shrugged. "I'll try not to underestimate you at pool in the future, but know this—you should never underestimate me when it comes to cars."
Or women, he added silently.
"Fucking great," Ty muttered. "This has to happen on a night when Mia's home with the baby, and I'm shorthanded."
"I'll deal with this," Troy said, already headed to the far corner of the covered porch, where the van had finally rolled to a stop. From his vantage point, he couldn't see inside the van, but he could tell the woman inside was fine—physically, at least. There was no scent of blood.
Just a shit ton of adrenaline.
Fortunately for her, the van was fine too—at least, as fine as it was ever going to be without some major maintenance. The only damage from the crash was a few more scrapes and dings on its already beat-to-hell body.
"You know how to make an entrance, I'll give you that," he called. "How about you get out of that van and tell us what you're doing out here."
The scent of panic reached his nose, and Troy resisted laughing out loud. It was a litt
le late for this woman to be second-guessing her plan.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, listening to the woman rustling around, trying to gather her courage. He was just about to storm down the steps and pull her out himself when the driver's side door finally creaked open.
And a familiar-looking blonde stepped out.
Troy's eyes widened in shock as he looked her up and down. He'd seen this woman before.
At least, he thought he had.
But at the same time, Troy was sure he didn't know her. Even if he'd somehow managed to forget that long golden hair and those delicate features, he wouldn't have forgotten her unique scent. Even under all her panicked emotions, it still rose up distinct, crisp, and bright.
"Who are you?" Troy asked.
And why the hell do I know you?
The woman's eyes widened in terror as she looked up at him. Her lips trembled. She glanced back at the open car door as if she was thinking of diving back inside.
"He asked who the fuck you were," Ty growled behind him.
"I-I'm Faith Johansen," she stammered.
Johansen. Why was that name familiar?
"I've come to find my sister, Hope."
Hope.
Of course. That's who she looked like.
The frightened little bird in front of him bore a keen resemblance to Maddox's omega. The two women weren't identical, but they had the same fair coloring, the slightly bobbed noses and pointed chins and big hazel eyes.
But Hope was a fighter, a damn force of nature. She'd outrun killers for days, survived a gunshot wound, and chucked an ax straight into a man trying to kill her.
This little girl, on the other hand, couldn't even get up the courage to step away from her busted-up van.
"Hope's not here," Troy said shortly.
Despair flashed briefly in the woman's eyes before she swallowed hard and stood up a little straighter, digging deep to find a trace of her sister's defiance.
"But you know where she is." A statement, not a question.
"Of course," Troy said. "She's at home with her alpha, Maddox."
The woman visibly shuddered at the word alpha.
"Take me to her," she said, but the demand came out more like a plea. It was obvious she wasn't used to throwing around orders.
"That's not going to happen," Troy said, crossing his arms.
Faith looked down for a moment, her body going very still. Then she looked up with her eyes blazing, widened her stance, reached into the van window, and brought out a long black rifle.
"I said," she repeated in a deadly serious tone, locking eyes with Troy, "take me to my sister. Now."
Behind him, Troy could sense Ty and Zeke stiffening in response, ready to take her down. But Troy lifted his hand to stop them.
This woman might have a rifle in her hands, but that didn't make her a threat. Troy knew women, and despite her little show of bravado, this beta was far too weak and timid by nature to actually shoot him.
"Put that gun down before my brothers decide to ignore me and defend themselves, Faith.”
"Tell them to stop growling and back off, or I'll pull the trigger, devil," she countered, lifting the rifle to her shoulder and sighting down the barrel.
Devil? Shit, she was one of those--an alpha-hating zealot.
Of course she was. In the back of his mind, Troy vaguely remembered Hope talking about leaving the cult-like church she'd grown up in.
Judging by the long, plain, high-necked blue and white dress the woman was wearing, she was still very much in the flock.
"Faith—" he began.
"Do you know what this is?" she cut him off, nodding at the gun in her hands. Surprisingly, she looked like she knew her way around it. There was a measured cadence to her words, as though she'd practiced this speech on the long drive up here. "It's a Nitro Express Double rifle. Hunters use these on the Serengeti to take down stampeding elephants. I'm told it'll do the same thing to charging alphas. Now take me to Hope."
Troy’s lips twisted. "It's a good bluff, little girl, but we both know that you're not going to—"
The crack of the shot was loud enough to deafen Troy's sensitive hearing. His eardrums rang as his blood instantly rose to a boil.
Even though it was only a warning shot fired above his head, Troy's instincts took over. Without thinking, he flew over the railing.
Faith screamed as he landed on the top of the van, the force of his weight denting the roof deeply. She tried to scramble backward as he hit the ground, tripping over her feet. Raising the heavy rifle, she took aim again even as she fought to regain her balance. But Troy moved too fast, and the shot went wide.
"You just made a big fucking mistake, little girl," Troy growled. He ripped the gun from her hands and brought the barrel down on his thigh, bending it nearly in half. He tossed the useless weapon to the ground. "And now you're going to pay for it."
"Troy!"
His anger was so intense he barely heard Zeke calling out his name in warning.
"Think about what you're doing," Zeke shouted. "That's Hope's sister."
As if that mattered now. This woman was an outsider. A goddamned beta invader who'd crashed into Evander's, armed with an elephant gun and a list of demands. He didn't give a shit whose sister she was.
"Stand down, goddamnit," Zeke yelled, starting toward him. "She could be—"
Troy wrapped his fingers around Faith's arm and squeezed, making her cry out in pain as he pulled her toward him, preparing to punish her for her crimes.
A sudden fiery bolt of sensation shot through every nerve in his body. His blood raged. His skin tingled. His fingertips sizzled where they touched her skin.
Troy's eyes narrowed as he realized what Zeke had been about to say.
She could be an omega.
Just like her sister.
Chapter Three
The devil had her in his clutches.
Faith stared in horror at the massive hand wrapped around her upper arm. The alpha's fingers were so long they fully encircled her, so wide they stretched from her bicep to the bend of her elbow.
Her first instinct was to pull away. To wrench herself free and run for her life.
But the urge didn't last long.
It only took a second for the heat of the devil's touch to sink through the fabric of her dress to her skin, for the knowledge that she was helpless in his hands to penetrate all the way down through her flesh to her very bones…and then everything changed.
The fear and panic that had threatened to paralyze her and stolen her voice from her throat—it simply faded away.
In its place, a warm, comforting wave washed over her.
It made no sense, but for a blissful moment, the wave drenched her mind with its blanketing calm, and Faith truly believed that she'd made the right decision by stealing the family van just before daybreak and driving straight through until she reached the Boundarylands. That coming here had been the perfect solution to a problem whose outlines were suddenly as vague as they were vexing.
All the trouble, the fear, the sense of betrayal were worth it because this was where she was meant to be—right here in this parking lot, being touched by this alpha, and feeling this change take root inside her.
This change.
The thought exploded into Faith's brain just as hard as she'd skidded into the trash cans, smashing the lovely bliss into smithereens. She shook her head, trying to banish the remnants, reminding herself of the very real danger she faced and the urgency of her errand. She was here to rescue Faith, and instead, she'd almost fallen under this devil's thrall only seconds after arriving.
She fought against the alpha's wicked magic, determined to repel the feelings and sensations that were his weapons.
The last thing this agent of darkness should make her feel was comfort. He had crushed her pastor's rifle—the one she'd stolen from the church's arsenal the night before, adding another unforgivable sin to the growing list of
her misdeeds—into a twisted, useless hunk of metal. He'd come at her with rage, his fearsome strength rippling through every muscle in his body. Even now, blood lust blazed in his demon eyes.
Except…it didn't. Not anymore.
The raw anger reflected in his eyes only seconds earlier was gone. Now the need shimmering in those ice blue depths was of another kind altogether.
The kind that made an unfamiliar heat catch fire between her legs.
Instinctively, Faith clamped her knees together and tried once more to pull away.
"Let go," she demanded.
The alpha didn't acknowledge her words. Instead, he cocked his head slightly and narrowed his eyes, his gaze intensifying. He pulled her closer until her chest was crushed against his. A new wave of his heat radiated through her. Faith tried to struggle, but it was useless. He was just too big.
"You're Hope's sister." He spoke the words as if they were a revelation, his voice deepening even as it dropped down to a whisper. "You're just like her."
Faith struggled to meet the devil's gaze. Not because she was afraid, but because she wasn't. It was as if someone had taken an unholy ax and chopped her straight down the middle. One part of her wanted to fight like hell, to let the spirit move through her and banish him back to the pit.
And the other part…
Well, it wanted to do things that made Faith burn with shame. That wicked part compelled her to lift her chin and gaze into those eyes until everything she'd ever learned about right and wrong was burned to ash. All that was left was their bodies, twined together.
"I'm nothing like my sister," Faith said. She knew it was a lie, but if someone had asked her to explain just now, she would be at a loss.
Again the alpha acted as if she hadn't said a word. His gaze sharpened, his mouth curved into a canny smirk. "You're an omega, just like her."
What?
No.
The devil was lying to her. He had to be--because that's what the devil did.
Though Faith loved her sister dearly, she knew that Hope had invited God's wrath. She had sinned by turning her back on her family and her faith. God had judged her and turned her into an omega as her punishment, consigning her to hell on earth.
But Faith had done nothing wrong. She'd lived a good life. A pure one.
Troy (The Boundarylands Omegaverse Book 5) Page 2
