Before Dawn

by Olivia Hutchinson

  Her stomach dropped at his question. “None of your business.”

  “Werewolf business is my business.”

  She met his brown eyes and said with more conviction than she felt, "Good thing then my business is not werewolf business.”

  Jackson quieted after that and stroked his bearded chin lightly. Just when she thought the conversation was over, he said, “At least you smell convincing today.”

  Her face burned bright.

  “Where is your boy toy, by the way?” Jackson made a show of looking around. “I don’t see him anywhere.”

  “He’ll be here in a minute.”

  “Hmm…has you waiting on him, does he?” He clucked. “Poor Declan should know women like you don’t wait for anyone.”

  He said it in a teasing manner, but his words cut her to the quick. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Jackson shrugged his big shoulders and feigned innocence. Natalie glowered at him, strangling her phone in her hands.

  Damn jackass. And as if things couldn’t get any worse, Red Bowinger chose that moment to enter the sitting area.

  Motherfuck.

  His bright red hair was slicked back, making him look like a slimy salesman of some sort as opposed to a cage fighter. Maybe he thought it made him look good. Hannah was attracted to him, so perhaps there was something there that she just wasn't seeing. His goatee was long on his chin, and he stroked over it when he saw both her and Jackson in the sitting room.

  “Hey,” he said, nodding toward Jackson. Jackson nodded his response but didn’t say anything. He was too busy watching Natalie who was now also under Red’s scrutiny.

  “You’re Azarov’s girlfriend,” he stated, going to the coffee pot. How he managed to pick up the pot and pour it into a small Styrofoam cup without taking his eyes off her was something she almost couldn’t comprehend.

  "That's none of your business," Jackson said. For the life of her, she didn't know if he was mocking her or defending her.

  Red snorted, glanced once at Jackson and then turned his attention back to her. He leaned against the arm of one of the other chairs and sipped from the steaming cup. “Hannah told me about you.”

  Dammit, Hannah. Whatever she said had better have been before last night. She trusted Allie to take the girl’s phone if she had a moment of weakness.

  “Now she won’t return my calls or respond to texts.” Good girl, Hannah. “I guess you had something to do with that.”

  Natalie lifted her chin a fraction of an inch. “No, you had something to do with that. She’s too good for you. Leave her alone.”

  Jackson barked out a laugh and stood up, positioning himself in front of the coffee pot in front of the shifter.

  Red glared at the werewolf, his face matching his hair. “Shut it, Vastag.”

  Jackson shrugged and poured two cups of coffee as if he didn’t have a care in the world. When he stepped toward Natalie and handed her one, she accepted it almost gratefully. Was it possible she found someone else who despised Red Bowinger enough to make an unlikely ally?

  "Thank you," she murmured as she put her cellphone back in her bag, no longer fearful enough to dial Declan for a swift rescue.

  Declan shut the door behind him when he stepped into his father’s office. Malcolm tossed his keys on the desk before spinning on him. “I will not give you permission to mate her.”

  Fury burned in his chest, and it took everything in him to bite out, "That's not why I'm here."

  “Then why are you here?”

  "Why didn't you tell me Gabriel spoke with you about finding a bainise bracelet in Cantor?"

  Malcolm shook his head. “He handled it.”

  “You forget I run Azarov territory now, not you. I need to know what’s going on so I can do my job.” Declan crossed his arms over his chest and glared. His father stepped down years ago, there was no reason for him to be handling territory business anymore.

  “He called me, not you.”

  He never thought he would ever get into a pissing contest with his own father, but here he was. "Oh, I'll talk to him about both that and about his relationship with the witch, but you should've told him to contact me when he came to you. And you should've told me about the mating before I had to hear about it in the Council room." He already knew thanks to Kaleb, but his father believed him to be in the dark and hadn’t mentioned it to him.

  “There wasn’t an opportunity.” Malcolm crossed his arms over his own chest, wrinkling his expensive suit in the process. It struck him then that his father had been in Boston too long. This wasn’t the man who’d raised him. The Council had changed him – and not for the better.

  "I'm staying in an apartment on your property, not even fifty feet from your back door," he said with a growl. "Don't tell me you didn't have the opportunity."

  “I don’t know what you want me to say, Declan. I don’t think I know you anymore. Here you are, with a witch in tow yourself. What am I supposed to think? It’s as if both you and your cousin had this planned out.”

  He wanted to laugh at the ludicrous accusation. “What are you talking about?”

  “The only reason that mating was approved was because it had already occurred! What was I supposed to do? Condemn it? Condemn my own nephew? I didn’t even know about it until Celeste came to me. Gabriel and his mate were in Salem early this morning to talk to her before she came down to Boston.”

  He was pissed at Gabriel. His cousin should’ve come to him first instead of traipsing around all of New England. “Fuck.”

  “Fuck is right. The last thing I need…No, the last thing this family needs is for you to sink your teeth into that witch out there. Got it? Understand yet? I will not forgive you if you mate her. I will take the territory from you in a heartbeat.”

  It was an empty threat. “And give it to who?”

  “Kaleb. Hannah. It doesn’t matter.”

  "And what if Kaleb mates a witch? Or hell, a human?" After the mess with Gabriel, Declan saw the genuine possibility of Kaleb's relationship with Beth going too far. "Or Hannah goes after Bowinger? What then? You going to forbid every last family member you have from controlling the territory?"

  “I’ll do what I have to do to keep our family safe.”

  “Safe.” It wasn’t the first time he heard that word. His mother said it when they first arrived. “Safe from who, exactly? You and mom both have been acting different lately.”

  Malcolm sighed. “You wouldn’t understand.”

  Declan needed to know what was really going on. He needed to get to the bottom of his father's bullshit. Was it the Council? Was it Dis? "Try me."

  The sudden vibration in his pocket distracted both him and his father. “Your phone is ringing,” Malcolm said unhelpfully.

  “Shit.” Declan dug the phone out of his pocket and went out into the hall when he saw Kaleb’s name pop up on the screen. He didn’t want his father to hear whatever Kaleb was about to say. Making sure the call volume was low, he answered. “What?”

  “We have Slayers in Cantor.”

  Slayers were human zealots aware of Others with an intense desire to rid the world of them. They murdered Kaleb and Gabriel's parents when they were young, and he remembered the hushed conversations between his father and his enforcers from where he listened in the hallway outside the room. His father hadn't just been angry at the senseless murder. He'd been terrified.

  The moment his aunt had been killed, his uncle faded quickly thereafter. Malcolm had to watch his brother die slowly after the loss of his mate, all the while taking in two young boys who didn't completely understand everything that was going on. Declan hadn't fully comprehended it until he was much, much older. Even now he didn't know if Kaleb and Gabriel knew the truth about how their parents passed away. They didn't talk about it. Ever.

  Slayers were his worst fucking nightmare, and now they were in his territory. "How do you know they're slayers?"

  “They were human. I understood enough French to
know the basics of what they were saying.”

  “What were they saying?”

  “Find the beast. Be careful of the enchantress.”

  Classic slayer terms for Others. He let out a resigned sigh. “How many?”

  “At least three, possibly four since I never saw a vehicle and I doubt they got there on foot. On your property, by the way.”

  On his property? He had planned to go home with Natalie tomorrow, but now that he knew slayers were around, it wouldn't be safe until the threat was handled. It looked like he and Natalie were going to be staying in Boston for a little while longer. "What were you doing out there?"

  “Trying to have a good fucking day.”

  He was quiet, trying to figure out how to handle the situation. Finally, he asked, “All males?”

  “Yes.”

  He had to take care of this as quickly and quietly as possible. "I'm going to avoid the CE and keep this on the down low, but I have to send in werewolf enforcement at the very least. There are too many lives at risk."

  “I know.”

  “You also realize that the slayers know who you are. They’re going to trace you to Gabriel and the rest of us, especially if you were on my property.”

  "What about a safe house?"

  "Jesus, I can't put you in a safe house," he said, his voice low. The last thing his father needed to hear was that Kaleb was in the company of a witch himself. "Not with her and not without alerting my father. The only thing I can advise you to do right now is run."

  He hated to say those words. Declan wanted nothing more than to provide Kaleb and Beth the address of the closest safehouse and ensure they were safely tucked away and out of harm's way. But their presence in a safe house would bring in his father. It would also eventually bring in the CE, and the last thing any of them needed was the CE sniffing around. He wanted to get out of Boston sooner rather than later, but as it stood now, they weren't going anywhere.

  “Dammit. I’ll call you back.” Kaleb ended the call.

  Declan found the number he wanted immediately. He had just dialed it last night. Benjamin St. John was perhaps his most trusted enforcer. They had known each other since childhood, but for many years he was skeptical of him. Ben had a very quiet friendship with Beth for years – the same Beth currently in Kaleb’s care.

  If anyone handled the slayer situation, it had to be him. Any enforcer would want to talk to Kaleb, so whoever he sent had to know how to keep a secret, because finding Kaleb meant also finding Beth. Declan could never see Ben betraying Beth in any capacity, and he could provide something they all needed: help.

  “Are you on your way back to Cantor?” Declan asked when Ben answered. The sound of the wind in the background told him Ben was most likely driving. Either that or standing on top of the Empire State Building.

  “I’m about six hours out.”

  He should’ve left last night. Declan frowned. “Why so far?”

  "I ran into an issue on I-81 in Pennsylvania with some fae. It's handled, but they slowed me down a bit." If it was handled and outside the territory, he didn't want to ask for details. "What's up now?"

  “I got a call about there being slayers in Cantor.”

  “No shit. Seriously?” Ben growled. “How many?”

  “Three for sure but probably more.”

  “Last sighting?”

  “My house.”

  Ben was quiet for a long minute. “I didn’t think you were at home. Aren’t you in Boston?”

  "I am in Boston. I wasn't there, but I'm sure you guessed already that I can't really come home until the issue is resolved."

  “Naturally. I’ll check it out. Do you have any descriptors?”

  “All males as far as we know. Go see Kaleb. He’ll give you the details.”

  “I’ll keep you updated.”

  “Be careful and watch your back,” Declan warned. He didn’t need a dead enforcer on his hands, especially one he liked and trusted as much as Ben.

  “What was that about?” Malcolm asked, coming out of his office almost as soon as Declan ended the call.

  He slid his cellphone into his pocket and shook his head. “Handled.” His father didn’t need to know the ins-and-outs of daily management. Not anymore. Whenever Ben took the slayers into custody, he would divulge the information to Malcolm because they would need to be brought before the Council, but not before.

  "Look, I have to get back downstairs," Malcolm started to say, making his way toward the top of the stairs. His lunch break was over. "We'll finish the discussion at the house this evening. Bring your girlfriend or whatever she is for dinner. I'll give your mom a heads-up to expect you both."

  “All right.”

  Hesitating, Malcolm regarded his son. "I'm serious about what I said—" The sound of shattering glass and a loud yelp filled the air. "What—"

  Declan didn’t wait for his father to try to figure out what was going on. The only thing he could think about was Natalie and getting to her because that small cry was her. Shouting was next – two men – and Declan held back a curse. He knew those voices.

  “What’s your fucking problem?”

  "My problem? You, you fucking cocksucker. You're the problem."

  Rounding the corner, he saw Natalie curled into a tight ball on one of the chairs by the window. Her knees tucked to her chest, she watched the shouting match in front of her with wide eyes. The scent of blood was heavy in the air, and he tried to figure out where it was coming from, but didn't immediately see it anywhere.

  What he did see was Jackson Vastag standing in front of her, yelling obscenities at Red Bowinger.

  “You really wanna start something?” Jackson challenged, expanding his chest. “You fuckin’ hurt her.”

  “Please, don’t…” Natalie was saying. “It was an accident.”

  Accident? Accident or not, she just confirmed the source of the blood. Sharpening his gaze, he saw the trickle seeping out from between her fingers. She was covering the back of her forearm with her hand.

  He couldn’t stop himself. With a loud roar, he launched himself at Red, claws out. Bowinger never saw him coming, but Jackson had. The werewolf took a step back and shielded Natalie with his body as Declan’s fist connected with Red’s face.

  Declan hadn't fought in years. After he came home from Toronto, he hadn't ever needed to. But that didn't mean he forgot how. Especially when the one woman under his protection – the one woman he cared so much for – was threatened. Not just threatened, but injured.

  Red put up a hard fight. After his initial strike, Declan wasn't given another opening nearly as easy. Red's kick came close to taking off his head but ended up just walloping his arm. It also left Red off balance, giving Declan the opportunity to take him to the ground.

  Natalie was screaming at him, but Declan couldn't spare her a glance. There was a roar behind him, and then he wasn't on top of Bowinger anymore. Declan was hauled into the air, held by a man nearly as big as him. His father, he scented.

  As soon as Red was free, he leaped from the ground and sprang at Declan, but with Malcolm restraining him, he wasn't able to defend himself. Jackson's forearm shot out from nowhere, hooking Bowinger around the neck and taking him to the ground in a single motion.

  “What the hell is going on here?!” A female voice yelled.

  Once Declan saw Jackson had Bowinger under control, he forced himself to breathe. Natalie was on her feet, inching her way toward him and Malcolm, trying to get around Red’s thrashing body without being struck.

  As soon as he started to relax, his father released him and took half a step toward Celeste. "I don't know. Care to explain, son?"

  No. No, he did not.

  He didn’t have to. Jackson’s growl cut into the conversation. “This one,” he said, nodding toward the still restrained Bowinger, who was finally showing signs of calming down, “threw the coffee pot at Natalie. It shattered and cut her, and that’s when Declan got here.”

  “Why the h
ell did you think it was a good idea to attack a witch?” Celeste demanded, glaring at Bowinger now.

  Declan reached out, grabbed hold of Natalie's shoulder and hauled her to his chest. "Let me see," he murmured. She was trembling and slowly, she uncovered her arm enough for him to see that the bleeding had slowed. She was scared, sure, but she wasn't severely injured. It still pissed him off to see her hurt, however.

  He growled, only stopping when she buried her face against his shoulder. Declan glanced around the room, seeing a few bystanders whispering amongst themselves. He made a fucking mess of things. No, Red Bowinger had made a mess of things.

  “Is she still bleeding?” Malcolm asked, silencing the rest of the room.

  Declan didn’t want to bring attention back to Natalie. “No, she’s fine,” he said dismissively.

  Celeste frowned. "She's not healing yet?"

  Time to go. “It was deep. I’m sure it’ll take a little bit of time.”

  “It wasn’t that fucking deep,” Bowinger growled.

  Jackson tightened his hold, cutting off the shifter’s oxygen and thus his words. “Deep enough, asshole.”

  Too many eyes, now too curious to be safe, were on them. Natalie stunk of coffee, fear, and blood. They had to get out of there before too many more questions were asked. Questions he didn't have answers for.

  “I’m taking her home,” Declan told his father.

  Malcolm gave him a swift nod, but he didn't miss his father's curiosity. Before someone could stop them, Declan ushered Natalie from the sitting room, down the stairs, and to the front door, passing the two CE guards.

  “She bleeding?” One of them with bright purple eyes asked, his nose twitching, just as Declan’s hand was on the door.

  “No,” he said, pushing it open. “Not anymore.” Before the guards could stop them or ask any other questions, they went out the door.

  He could sense Natalie’s nervousness. She recognized there was a problem and the need to get out of there quickly. She was all but trying to run to the SUV, but he pulled her against his side and slowed her steps. “Easy.”

  They made it to the SUV without further incident, and once they were off the grounds, Declan breathed a long sigh of relief.