The Trouble with Beasts (Howl for the Damned: Book One)

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The Trouble with Beasts (Howl for the Damned: Book One) Page 19

by D. Fischer


  “Change of heart?” I ask him quietly. My voice is rough and thick with worry. I swap hands on her wound and focus on Damien instead of Jinx’s ever-growing paleness.

  He drops his hands and looks straight to Jinx. He doesn’t speak while he digs inside his pocket, tugs gently, and leans to set Jinx’s pendant on the nightstand. The action is so gentle that the mud splattered wolf doesn’t clunk against the wood. “She saved my life,” he says softly. His tone alone betrays everything he doesn’t know how to say.

  I blink at this. Of course, she did. Jinx is the type of person who will stand by her rival’s side and help. She’s loyal to a fault, I realize.

  “The tiny witch saved the big bad wolf’s life?”

  Amelia grins at this and sits at the end of Jinx’s bed. She’s been hovering in the shadows and chewing on her nails.

  “Yeah,” he says dejectedly. Through the pack link, I can feel the weight of her loyalty settle somewhere inside him. “The least I can do is wait until I know she’s all right.”

  “She’ll be all right,” Cinder says, entering the room. He’s much calmer than he was and leans against the wall, arms crossed. “She has to be all right.”

  Reese rushes into the room.

  “Took you long enough,” I growl to her even as a surge of relief makes my heart thump louder.

  She ignores it and immediately assesses the situation. It doesn’t take her long to clean the wound and sew up the skin. When she leaves to gather more supplies in the lab downstairs, she volunteers Damien and Amelia to help carry the items.

  Brushing the hair back from Jinx’s pale face, I say to Cinder, “This infatuation you have with Jinx will not go past that of friendship.” Just like Damien, I can feel Cinder’s emotions when it comes to Jinx. It’s different than Damien’s, though. Deeper with more meaning.

  When he stiffens, I glance up at him. My eyes glow wolf and reflect in his own. “Is that clear?”

  “How many times do I have to tell you –”

  “Is that clear?”

  “Why do you care? Because you’re claiming her?” He spits the words, startles, and then blinks hard.

  “Yes.” My answer is immediate, and it surprises both me and Cinder. We look at each other for a long time, long enough that Cinder’s anger fades into nothing but an ebbing and flowing awe.

  “You have feelings for her,” he whispers.

  “No,” I say, denying it. I shake my head for extra emphasis. “I’m claiming her. Nothing more.” Inside me, my wolf growls.

  He chuckles and relaxes back against the wall. His eyes fall on the muddy pendant. “She has a way of affecting people that way. Protective instincts for such a sarcastic little witch. You know, as much as you’ve been watching me watch her, I watch you watch her more.”

  “I’m protecting her,” I snarl.

  He snorts. “You’re falling for her.”

  I look away, grinding my teeth, but against my will, my attention strays to the tiny woman as if she’s the sun and I’m but a mere planet. I can almost see her smile and hear her laugh. That ‘something’ pangs in my chest, something I haven’t allowed myself to feel.

  “I know you never loved Allie,” he whispers. “Not like this. Allie was as much a sister to you as she was to me. It’s okay to fall for her. It’s okay to let yourself fall for her.”

  I nibble on the inside of my cheek as he dips his chin, a blessing. “Take care of her.” I watch him grab Jinx’s necklace. He curls his fingers tightly around it. “I’m going to ask Chip to clean this up.”

  Then, I watch him walk out of the room.

  EPILOGUE

  Jinx Whitethorn

  Whispers pull me from my dreams. Dreams filled with a white wolf’s reflection. Dreams where the white wolf watches me as a breeze combs through her fur.

  Slowly, as if nothing but sand swims in them, I open my eyes. The whispers fade as though they’re a breeze themselves, layered with many voices both male and female.

  This room is dark, a startling contrast to when I fell unconscious.

  Rain pings on the window, and thunderclouds continue to rumble. I look to my arm and the fingers that are rubbing salve over the stitched wound. I follow that hand up the arm and then to the person.

  “Reese,” I croak.

  Carefully resting my arm on the bed, she reaches for a glass of water on the stand. As she moves, I absorb my surroundings. It’s not Jacob’s room I’m in. It’s a room I haven’t been in before, and it reeks with the antiseptic scent of a hospital. If it wasn’t for the compound’s aged brick, I would panic. I can’t be in a hospital. Species rule number one: no humans should have our blood.

  Damien and Jacob are asleep on large chairs, and Amelia is snoring at the end of my bed. Her hair is a mess, and she has mud splattered along her cheekbone, but at least her shoes are off.

  Cinder is nowhere in sight, and I frown at that fact then wince as my head throbs to the movement. My friend isn’t by my side, and to be honest, I didn’t think it would hurt this much. We’ve been at ends lately. At ends with his betrayal, both refusing to stitch what was broken between us. In the face of all of this, our squabble is ridiculous.

  “Here,” Reese whispers. “Take a drink.”

  She holds the straw to my lips, and I gulp down the room temperature water. It soothes my scratchy throat.

  “Thanks,” I murmur when she moves the cup away and places it back on the stand. I tried to do it myself, but my limbs are too weak. I sigh back into my pillow and blink slowly at the dark ceiling.

  I hear a rustle of plastic. “Do you remember what happened?”

  I nod and then lift my arm. There’s a line of stitches there, glistening with the goop of salve. She grabs my arm, applies a bit more salve, and then grabs for an opened package of gauze.

  “How?” I manage to say. I clear my throat gently to not wake the slumbering pack around me. My people. My friends. “How did I not bleed out while I was skinwalking, but as soon as I changed back –”

  “Chip has a theory,” she whispers, glancing at me only once.

  Just as I am, I know she’s remembering our last encounter like this one. There’s no air of anger about her this time though. Just a certain calmness that eases my lingering anxiety.

  “He thinks it’s because of the skinwalker magic. While you’re in that form, mortal might not apply.”

  I rest my head back on the pillow. “Knowing him, he already tested that theory.”

  She chuckles. “Jacob nearly took off his arm when he gathered some of your blood. In his defense, you were freely giving it away.”

  I keep my expression blank. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

  She pauses in the midst of laying the last strip of gauze. “You saved Damien,” she finally whispers. “You saved him when you didn’t have to. You came back to the pack when you could have run. We were in trouble, and you didn’t shy away.” She pats the gauze gently. “That makes you one of us.”

  I blink at her, letting her words settle against my own feelings of belonging here.

  “And Jacob? Is he all right?”

  “Yes.” Her lips twitch, and her brows furrow. “He’s never loved me, you know.”

  I tip my head to the side.

  “I’ve always had feelings for him, but not once has he ever shown that he cares for me. Not in that way. Not in the way I want.” She smiles weakly. “Not in the way he is with you.”

  “Reese –”

  “I’m letting him go,” she whispers meaningfully then wets her lips. “I thought you should know that I’m letting him go. I deserve more, and so do you. You deserve him. Don’t let my sacrifice be wasted, Jinx.”

  I grab her hand as she turns to leave. “There’s someone out there for you, Reese.” I swallow. “You’ll find him.”

  Nodding, tears lining her eyes, she gathers the wrappers of the gauze and weaves between the chairs and slumbering pack members. She pauses in the doorway, and grinning wickedly, says, �
��You might want to wake them up. They were a pain in my ass. Make sure you return the favor.”

  My blink is slow, my smile small. Out of everyone here, Reese accepting me, stepping aside even, means something wholly different than Damien’s acceptance of me in the woods. It’s one thing to save a life. It’s a whole other thing to walk away from someone she loves so someone else can claim him. That’s what she’s giving to me. A claim to the pack, and a claim to him.

  Listening to the soft snores of my friends, I roam each of their faces. Glenda wanders in seconds after Reese leaves, and seeing that I’m awake, she goes to Damien’s chair and kicks the leg of it. “She wake!” she barks at them. The liquid in the bowl she carries sloshes on Jacob’s arm, and I get the feeling she wanted that to happen.

  Reese’s retreating laugh filters in from down the hallway, and I smile as Glenda hands me the broth. “Sip only,” she says, her accent a scold. My stomach growls at the smell of the beefy liquid.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, and she harrumphs, pats my head, and leaves.

  As I sip, Damien, Amelia, and Jacob gather around my bed and fret, peppering question after question. Sighing deeply, I give my account of everything that happened when Damien wandered back to the pack after I saved him. Jacob starts to scold him for leaving me alone, but I will have none of it, glaring maliciously at the alpha.

  I tell them about Toothless and Scarface. I tell them about everything the two Bane told me; my father’s death, mostly. When I reach the point in my story where I explain their ability to hear their wolves inside the pendant and how it seems to hum with power, Jacob frowns. The whispers return then – the whispering breeze that woke me. I try hard to not let it show on my face. I’ve changed. Something in me has woken and changed.

  My story comes to a close and not soon enough. Recounting, reliving it has thoroughly exhausted me. Jacob escorts Amelia and Damien from the room while I begin to drift off, sleep pulling me under against my will. Just before I fall asleep entirely, I feel more than see Jacob climb into bed with me.

  Jacob makes me stay in bed for hours on end. His warmth is a needed comfort as the rain continues to plunder the compound. Really, it is just the rest of the next day, during which broth and water have been shoved down my throat to the point where my stomach feels bursting.

  Now, as I glare up at Jacob, refusing the refilled cup of water, Sara slides into the doorway escorted by an apologetic Cinder. Jacob leaves my bed then, standing as solid as a barricade wall. Peeking around him, I watch Cinder as he mouths “I’m sorry,” over and over again, complete with hand gestures.

  Storming into the bedroom like a tornado with bright pink heels, my best friend glares at Jacob and then pokes him in the chest.

  “You kidnapped her, promised you’d keep her safe, and she still ended up hurt!”

  “Sara,” I call, amused.

  She pokes his chest again, and he looks down at her. I wish I could see the expression on his face. “Instead of believing her from the beginning!”

  “I wouldn’t poke him, Sara,” Cinder cautions.

  She moves to poke again. “Crazy ass shifters!”

  Carefully, Jacob plucks her finger from his chest and sets her hand back to her side.

  “All ended well,” he says quietly.

  “Well?” she shrieks. “Well? Jinx’s arm is taped up like a mummy! She’s in a hospital bed!”

  “They didn’t get what they came for,” he says. Impossibly, his voice is even. I mentally commend him for his restraint because by now, I’d be shouting back.

  She opens her mouth to spew more accusations, but then she stops. “What does he mean?” she asks me.

  “They came for this,” I say, plucking the necklace from the stand. I hold it up for her to see. Sara moves around Jacob to study the pendant.

  Damien had given it back to me. I was touched that he did so, but I have a sneaking suspicion it went through several lab tests before it made its way back into my possession. The way Damien is studying me, and the pendant, only further solidifies my assumption.

  “Your father’s necklace? Why would anyone want to steal that?”

  “They want it because my father cursed them with it. The spirits of their wolves lie within, and they can’t shift without it.”

  She straightens her spine and sets her purse by my feet. “So they’re basically humans but with expert killing instincts. Like cavemen.”

  I nod then angle my body to Cinder who sheepishly glances at a picture on the wall. I narrow my eyes suspiciously. “Did I get that right? Or am I missing something?”

  He bats his eyelashes charmingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Jacob crosses his arms. “Don’t bother pretending otherwise. Jinx is too smart and knows Chip too well to think he wouldn’t take the opportunity when it arose.” His voice is bitter.

  Cinder wrinkles his nose. “What gave it away?”

  I laugh. “It fell in the mud, right? It’s not muddy. I’m not oblivious. Besides, Chip has a mate, so I doubt he’s been staring at my crotch for reasons other than what has been in my pocket.”

  “Chip will tell you as soon as he’s sure.”

  Sara whirls around so fast it’s like I blinked and she was no longer facing me. “Speaking of betrayals,” she points to Cinder.

  He points back at her. “I draw the line at fingernail poking.”

  She pokes him anyway. He just blinks at her, stunned, and then he grabs her around the middle and throws her over his shoulder. She squeals and slaps his behind as he strides from the room.

  “Should we rescue her?” I ask Jacob, grinning from ear to ear.

  “I think the more proper question is if we should rescue him.”

  I laugh at the truth. When her squeals trail away and my laughter dies down, Jacob and I stare at one another. His expression is calm, and a twinkle lights his eyes. It brings me back to the rain backdrop of the forest when his coffee irises seemed depthless. Full of secrets. Full of life.

  “Thank you,” I say quietly.

  He cocks his head to the side. “For what?”

  “For trying to keep me safe. For looking out for me.” He sits on the edge of the bed, close enough to where his scent washes over me. The smell of him – clover and sage – it makes me feel home.

  I pick at my blanket nervously. I don’t think I truly knew what home meant until I found it. Home isn’t a place. It isn’t a possession. It isn’t four walls. It’s a feeling, and I have this feeling with him.

  “You didn’t have to do any of this, but I’m grateful you did. I wouldn’t know who I am without you and the pack.”

  He tucks a stray lock of my unbound hair behind my ear. His closeness fogs my brain. “We still have to meet with your father’s sister.”

  “If she’s his sister,” I whisper. The internet isn’t always reliable. “We don’t even know if she can help me.”

  Fingertips trail from my ear down to my jaw. The intimate touch raises goosebumps down my arms. “Then we will keep looking.”

  “And then what?” I nervously prattle on. “Even when I discover my full potential, then what? The Bane Pack will still be after me. The Riva Pack will be in danger because of it. The witches will want answers and –”

  He cuts me off with a gentle kiss. A sighing breath. A flutter of my heart. His lips are soft. Full. Smooth. For a split second, one blissful second, time stands still.

  “All will go as it will,” he murmurs. “We cannot control fate.”

  “That answer doesn’t work for me,” I whisper, watching his lips.

  He smiles, just barely, and runs his thumb over my cheek. “You belong with me, and together, we will find a way to make you safe. The pack will help you find a way to be safe.” He bends and just before his lips touch mine, he adds, “You are not alone.”

  We hope you have enjoyed The Trouble with Beasts (Howl for the Damned: Book One). Please leave a review to help other readers who may enjoy this series as
well.

  Start The Liar Among Creatures (Howl for the Damned: Book Two) now.

  Take a moment and follow D. Fischer on Facebook or Email. If you’d like to connect more exclusively, join her Facebook group, D. Fischer Reader’s Group - Dragon Squad.

  ALSO BY D. FISCHER

  | THE CLOVEN PACK SERIES |

  | RISE OF THE REALMS SERIES |

  | HOWL FOR THE DAMNED |

  |HEAVY LIES THE CROWN – Arriving 2020|

  | NIGHT OF TERROR SERIES |

  | GRIM FAIRYTALES COLLECTION |

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bestselling and award-winning author D. Fischer is a mother of two very busy boys, a wife to a wonderful husband, an owner of two sock-loving german shorthairs, and slave to a rescued cat. Together, they live in Orange City, Iowa.

  When D. Fischer isn’t chasing after her children, she spends her time typing like a mad woman while consuming vast amounts of caffeine. Known for the darker side of imagination, she enjoys freeing her creativity through worlds that don’t exist, no matter how much we wish they did.

  Follow D. Fischer on Facebook, Amazon, Bookbub, Goodreads, and Instagram.

  DFISCHERAUTHOR.COM

 

 

 


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