by Kitt Rose
He tapped a finger on the wooden railing, thoughtful. “I had no idea she could work so quickly. It was quite fascinating. Just,” he snapped his fingers and I jumped. “Like that. Poof. Gone.”
Hatred rose like the bile, and I reached out to grip the rail board hard.
“I had to work a little witchy influence on Aaron and Pete to keep you and your damned twin in Georgia with Mick. But thankfully, I was powerful enough by then.”
Surprise must have shown in my eyes because he smiled smugly. “Oh, you didn't think I'd have a pet witch at my disposal without learning a little something, did you? Turns out, you don't have to be a daughter of Hecate to do magic. I've gotten quite good over the years. Good enough to take care of Mick once I was done with him.”
I pitied my bastard of a stepfather. I'd hated him, but I still felt sorry for the man. Simple con artist caught up in something way over his head and miles out of his league.
But Greg wasn't done.
“And then, for a little while, things were good. I had to keep you and your twin running, make sure you didn't have time to consider coming back, but that only took a phone call every now and then to CPS. But then you met that damned Chink.”
“Wrong racial slur. He was Korean,” I mumbled, not thinking.
“Whatever.”
“But what would it matter to you if I met someone?” I asked, confused. “I mean, you wanted me out of the way, and married to another man is about as out of the way as I could have gotten.”
Greg stepped a little closer, the feverish light in his eyes rising brighter. “I had considered, for a time, that may be the best revenge would be to take you for my own. I had worked up a love spell, and I went to Georgia to see you.”
His eyes were shining with madness, and I realized then that Greg's jealousy had pushed him over the fine line of sanity.
He was fucked in the head.
“But you were pregnant. Looked like a fucking cow, more so than your fat ass normally does.” He scoffed. “It was so easy to send that drunk driver your way. I didn't even need magic for it, just a little bit of timing. I found him swerving all over the road and when he stopped, I grabbed him, gave him a little Jack, then a little Johnny. Kept him lubricated until I heard your car. You really needed to get the timing belt fixed on that piece of shit. So easy to send him on his way at just the right time. Let him see the real me so he'd do so in a hurry.”
My mind was whirling. If I understood him right, and I wouldn't be surprised if I hadn't, he had changed in front of a man he'd kept drunk, to scare him into driving carelessly.
This man, this monster, had caused the accident that had cost me my husband and my baby.
Tears flooded my eyes, pouring down my cheeks, as my stomach rebelled. I leaned over the railing, my stomach contracting painfully. In hot, stinking gushes, my body tried to expel the sour fear and revulsion. I had never in my life wanted to hurt someone more. Never in my life wanted someone dead before.
But this monster… I would dance on his corpse if given the chance.
Leaning over the railing, I waited for the vomiting to stop. And still, Greg talked.
“Then my fucking father decided that he didn't care if tradition said the Alpha had to be married if he was Marked. He wanted out bad enough he was going to give it to Ash. I needed to do something. I needed Ash focused on something else. On someone else. I decided to bring you home.”
He leaned against the railing, and I watched him through the curtain of my hair. He was picking at his nails, hardly paying attention to me.
This was the cliché bad guy speech. It wasn't a book or a movie. This was seriously happening to me.
Fuck.
“I sent Heidi this time, and she took care of your brother.”
Fury blazed an agonizing path down my spine and through my limbs. My twin. The other part of me. This man was the reason I would never hear my brother's voice again.
I clenched my fists, shaking with the force of my anger.
“And then when that still wasn't enough to send you running, she took care of your apartment and that guy you were dating. That was funny. You should have seen them trying to remember how they ended up in bed together the next morning. Heidi even thought that was funny. But you still. Wouldn't. Leave. She had to use magic to break you. To make you behave.”
I straightened up, fear and fury warring inside me. “What's your plan now that I'm here?”
“To kill you, of course.” He scoffed. “What, you don't think I'd tell you all this and let you leave, do you?”
I couldn't help it, I laughed. “You know that's like a Bad Guy 101 line.”
“Who cares?” he said, pushing off the railing and walking toward me.
Greg began to shift as he moved. The fury evaporated, leaving only fear in its wake. It was so fast. One minute a man stalked toward me, the next it was a wolf.
I jumped over the railing, my legs—especially my injured one—screaming with the impact. I stumbled, then started to run, but I didn't make it far. Suddenly a man ran out from the wheat edging the property. He was a blur of speed, but I still recognized Joshua.
“Go!” he screamed. “Run inside. Call for help. Tell Tobias what's happened and barricade yourselves in until help arrives.”
And then he shifted too.
I didn't need him to tell me twice. I ran as the two wolves met in a flurry of fangs and fur. Into the house, the door slamming into the wall with a crash that brought Tobias skidding around the corner.
“We need to call for help. Joshua and Greg,” I panted. “They're fighting. Greg killed my mom. Greg killed everyone. Greg hates Ash. So much.” I was semi-hysterical, but apparently Tobias understood enough.
Eyes widening in some emotion I couldn't read, he grabbed me and snagged Lila on the way through the kitchen. Out the backdoor. To the storm shelter at the back of the house.
He threw open the door and pushed us inside. There was a heavy wooden bar that he threaded through two brackets on either side of the door. Lila pulled me in deeper, backing us into a corner.
Tobias pointed at us, wordlessly ordering us to stay and went to the other side of the shelter, opening a cabinet built into the wall. With a key, he opened another door inside and pulled out a shotgun. And then he took up a position in front of us, watching and waiting.
30
Ash
I couldn't remember a time in my life where I'd ever been so frightened. Once we'd gotten into the cab of my truck, I called Libby, my parents, Joshua. None of the calls would connect.
I drove too fast. Anxiety gripped my heart in a fist, making it hard to breathe.
Greg.
Oceanus damn it. Everyone needed to know this. Why the hell couldn't I get one motherfucking person on the phone?
I took the turn into my parents' driveway too sharp, clipping the mailbox. Fuck it, I'd fix it later when everyone was safe. Elliot braced himself against the dashboard but didn't utter a word of protest at my erratic driving.
Once we passed the barn, I knew something was very wrong. The front door to the house hung wide open, and something dark rested in the grass near the porch.
It took a minute for my eyes to recognize what I was seeing.
That was a Protean wolf. That looked like… Joshua.
I slammed the truck into park before it had stopped moving. We jerked to a sudden halt and I flung myself out of the cab.
We charged across the yard, Elliot dropping to his knees at Joshua's side.
My Alpha lay too still. He wasn't breathing. His heart no longer beat in his chest. Joshua was dead. The grass around him was dark and wet with his blood.
His throat had been ripped open.
“Fuck,” I said.
“Do you think Greg did this? Did Greg murder his own father?” Johnny asked, coming up behind us.
“Yeah. I mean, who else could it have been.” Elliot said.
“Where's Libby,” I asked, going rigid.
Ell
iot ran for the house, but I went for the storm cellar.
The cellar was where Dad would have taken them if he'd had time. And with Joshua fighting his son—I hoped with all that I was—that there had been time.
The old cellar door was closed. I tugged on the handles, rattling the door. It didn't budge. The door was barred from within. Relief dumped into my veins.
I knocked, calling out, “Dad?”
There were some shuffling noises from inside, and then the doors opened, one at a time. I was so happy to see my father unharmed that I grabbed him in a hug, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment.
Behind Tobias, two forms moved, and I focused on my mother and then my mate. Both whole and healthy.
I sagged in respite. Pulling away from my dad, I crossed the cellar in a few strides and lifted Libby into my arms.
Her arms surrounded me and I took a shuddering breath. Her face, wet with tears, pressed into my neck and her shoulders shook in silent sobs.
I grabbed her hair with one hand and tugged gently. “You okay?”
Her eyes were nearly swollen shut, and so red. “No, but I'm not physically hurt,” she whispered. “Ash, Greg did it all. Everything. He hates you so much. Thinks you took what was his, so he's been trying to take everything from you.”
Logically I knew Greg was responsible for everything that had happened, but I still didn't know how to feel about it. I was in shock. Burning with anger and pain. Right now, I'd like nothing better than to be able to tear out Greg's throat. But first, I needed to get Libby safe.
“We'll talk about this, but I need to get you safe. I need to get people out looking for Greg. His witch is dead. She killed herself, so he has nowhere to go.”
My house was the safest place for Libby. I insisted that everyone gather there. I wouldn't rest until I knew they were all okay. And the best way I could do that was to have them all under my roof, under my watch.
We took a small caravan of vehicles and I called Izzy on the way. Elliot called the hospital to make sure they upped the guard on Aaron. And Johnny was supposed to call his parents. My house was going to be very full, but hopefully it would only be for a little while.
When we arrived, I took Libby straight upstairs. My mother followed us.
She put a hand on my arm. “You go do what you have to do. I'll sit with your mate until you can come back to her.”
“Thank you,” I said, gratitude in my voice. I kissed Libby's forehead and turned to leave.
Mom put a hand on my arm, pulling me into a brief hug. “Don't take too long. I don't think your mate has much left in her before a breakdown. Be here before that happens, or…” she whispered in my ear.
She didn't have to finish. I knew it wouldn't be good. My Libby was fragile.
I sequestered myself in my office—formerly the dining room—and activated the Pack enforcer's phone tree. By default, I was now the Alpha. After so many years waiting for this moment, it felt strange to finally have the position.
I never wanted it on these terms though.
Greg was to be captured alive, if at all possible. If not, he was to be eliminated with extreme prejudice. He needed to be stopped, by any means necessary.
When I was satisfied that the hunt for Greg was underway, I rushed back to Libby.
Mom gave me a grateful look when I walked back into the room. Libby wasn't in the bed, and sounds of the shower drifted through the closed bathroom door. Beneath the running water, I heard sobbing.
My heart constricted. “How is she?” I asked Mom.
“Not good. Ash, be gentle with her. This girl has been through more than any one person deserves.”
I nodded, leaning down to kiss Mom's cheek. “I will. Thanks for sitting with her.”
After she closed the door, I locked it. Toed off my shoes and stripped off my jeans. Both were trash now. They smelled of gasoline, blood, and black magic.
In my boxers, I nudged open the bathroom door. It was a sauna inside. Thick steam filled the air, making it nearly impossible to see. I edged into the room, closed the door behind me and locked it.
“Lib?”
She didn't answer, and I moved deeper into the room. The shower came into view. Behind the glass door, she was sitting on the floor, in the corner under the water. She'd tucked her legs tight to her chest, her forehead resting against her knees, and her arms wrapped around herself.
I kicked out of my boxers and opened the shower door.
Libby looked up, eyes swollen but dry of tears. She looked so lost.
I crouched next to her, putting a hand under her chin to tip her face up. My kiss was soft, no pressure, no heat. Meant to comfort and soothe.
Libby made a noise in her throat, half a sob and half a laugh, and I scooped her up into my arms.
Holding her under the hot water, I let her legs down. “Can you stand?”
She scrunched up her eyes, confusion plain in her face. “Yes.”
“I'm going to wash your hair,” I said.
I needed to get the gasoline off myself, and she smelled of sadness and fear. I turned Libby away from me, grabbing the shampoo bottle. The smell of mint filled the air as I squeezed some into my hand. She tipped her head back and I lathered the shampoo into her hair.
A sigh leaking out of her.
“I learned some things,” I started, slow and careful.
She stiffened, then said, “Me too. Too much.”
“How about I tell you what I know, and then, when you're ready, you tell me what's bothering you so much?”
She was quiet while I rinsed her hair. Leaned against me while I quickly washed up, and then as I was finishing, she said, “No. I need to tell you this, Ash. I have to get it out there. Greg admitted to being the one responsible for my mom falling in love with Mick and moving us across the country, for killing her, for killing Justice, for his witch robbing me… Everything. Every single horrible thing that's ever happened in my life has been his fault. Because he wanted to hurt you.”
Suddenly, she spun around, her hands grabbing my face and pulling it down. A hair's breadth apart, she breathed, “I have to tell you something, and I really don't want to.”
“It's okay. You don't have to.”
“Yes, I do,” she insisted, her eyes all pupil. “I told you I was in a car accident, that my husband died in that wreck. But I didn't tell you that…” She took a deep breath. “I was six months pregnant when it happened.”
My spine locked.
A baby.
Libby had been pregnant with another man's baby.
A possessive sort of fury filled me, swiftly replaced by the realization that Libby had lost a child. I couldn't imagine…
“I need you to understand. I knew I was in labor, that I was having the baby. The contractions were coming fast and furious. I'd felt something break inside of me when the dashboard slammed into me. And Daniel was there, holding my hand and telling me he wanted me to name our baby Sarah. He knew he was dying, and his one comfort was our daughter. I couldn't tell him I was sure I was going to lose her. So I didn't. I held his hand and comforted him, tried to pretend I wasn't miscarrying our child. And then I sat in that wreck, bleeding and in pain, with my dead husband for hours. I got to the hospital and I had to deliver my stillborn child.”
I swallowed hard enough to hurt. Grabbing her waist, I pulled her close. She put her forehead on my chest, her hands going to my stomach, splayed there as if bracing.
“I don't think I can do it again,” she whispered. “I don't think I can have babies. I can't go through that again. I can't lose another.”
I squeezed her, understanding. That was the problem.
“If you don't want to have kids, that's fine. But maybe, with some time, you might change your mind. Or we could adopt. I don't really care, sweetheart. I just want you.”
Libby looked up, her brown eyes glistening. “Really?”
“Of course. I can't imagine what you went through. But, sweetheart, you are the only thing I want
. I'd love to have kids with you. I'd love to see a child with both of us in them, watch it grow inside you. But if that doesn't happen, I'm okay with it. You're the important part.”
A sob wrenched out of her chest and she plastered herself to my chest. She held me tight for a long moment, letting the hot water pound down around us. When it turned cool, I turned it off and picked her up, carrying her to the bathmat. I set her down, and gently, like the precious thing she was, dried her hair.
She grabbed the towel and placed it on my stomach. “Let me,” she said quietly.
I shifted on my feet. “I'd love that, Lib, but maybe some other time.”
She batted my hand away from the towel.
“Libby, if you start that…” I wanted her—I always wanted her—she was in no state for sex, but my dick had other ideas.
“I know, and I want to.”
I shook my head. “No way. You've been through too much. You could have died today.”
“Exactly,” she exclaimed, surprising me. “That's why I want you. I need you to remind me that I'm still alive. That there's something worth fighting for. And that this fear, this horrible gnawing in my gut, won't win. I need that, Ash. Please.”
With a groan, I leaned down and captured her mouth. The kiss was deep, and it went on forever. She opened for me, and I plunged my tongue into her mouth with a groan. Lifting her into my arms, I carried her to the bed.
Her hands roamed my body, moving downward to wrap around my rapidly hardening dick. My groan of pleasure was cut off when she shifted, pushing me onto my back.
Before I could process it, she swung a leg over my hips and guided me into her body, sinking onto me. I gritted my teeth at the wet heat, the tightness. The fact that it was my Libby.
“Ash,” she panted, rising over me. “I love you.”
My heart soared, and I pulled her down, kissing her fiercely. “I love you, too.”
She rose back up over me, a siren. Irresistible. I cupped her breasts as she started to move, fondling. She panted, moving a little faster. One hand wandered down to her clit, where I pinched and played. Her breathing grew rougher, her body starting to tighten around me, and I grabbed her hips. Holding her steady, I thrust up, losing myself inside her. My control frayed, the tingling at the base of my spine warning me I wouldn't last.