by J. J. Massa
“Myles!” Jacob’s lungs were tight, like he was breathing hot lava. “MY-les!”
“Here, guv.” At his elbow, Myles was there. Jacob pointed and Myles looked up.
Mik had come with him, bulky, solid, reassuring. He, too, was looking up.
“Can you see it? Can you see him?” Jacob couldn’t see who was there precisely; he just knew that there was a presence. Myles, with his lupine senses, augmented by the gene splicing, would be able to see everything very well.
“Yeah, there’s a big guy up there, and he’s…what’s this, hey? Looks like he’s leaving, and leaving quick.” Myles was in full wolf form, hackles raised, face covered in hair, fangs showing—as changed as he got. Jacob wondered if he even knew it. Mik sensed the presence, too, whether he could see it or not. His ruff standing, teeth bared, anger apparent.
“Something’s changed, Myles, it’s bad. You gotta go see if you can stop him. If he comes back, it’s going to be worse.” Jacob knew he was babbling. He had to babble, he needed to tell. Maybe he was a seer, but he was afraid, too. “That--that guy wants to hurt Tayler. Hurt Ash, maybe Sherm, I don’t know…I’m sure he saw Tayler. He’s bad; you’ve got to stop him.”
“I’m on it, mate,” Myles growled over his shoulder, gone before the words were out. And Mik, too, hot on Myles’ heels.
Jacob felt his legs give, sitting hard on the cool grass. In a minute, he’d go inside, hug his sister, hug Tayler and maybe he would even hug Sherman. Then he’d let his mother make him feel better.
Hands were lifting him, pulling him up. A stethoscope was at his sternum. Did Marc keep one in his pocket? Was it forever tucked under his shirt? Jacob felt faint. He’d forgotten that Tav and Marc were even there.
Chapter Twenty-One
Office of Lilith Landon
Landon International
Suite 2A, 5400 Peachtree Street
Atlanta, Georgia
Jack and Lilith were arguing. They were bickering like an old married couple.
Lilith wanted to bring in a few Weres that she knew to help handle the Montgomery family. Loners who could handle themselves in a werewolf battle.
She was sure that Jack’s friends were quite lethal. Jack himself was dangerous, she’d felt it right away. For him to allow another man to dominate him…well that man had to be dangerous, without question.
For all Lilith knew, Jack had already enlisted a few werewolves in their little plan.
Still, Lilith wanted some familiar faces; she wanted people who were on her payroll.
There was no mystery here. Lilith was not a trusting person. Jack should be able to understand that.
The problem was, Jack wasn’t understanding that.
“I’m not having anyone Becker doesn’t approve of, Lilith. There’s no middle ground here,” he stated resolutely. “If you don’t like it, you can do your own dirty work.”
“Who the hell is this Becker guy, anyway?” Lilith demanded. She knew damned well that Jack wanted his daughter Ashley dead as badly as she wanted Sherman out of the picture. So what was the big deal?
“Becker is…well, you just don’t want to cross him. More importantly, I don’t want to cross him. That’s all I’ve got to say about it,” he growled stubbornly, arms crossed, implacable.
“Uh, huh,” she oozed, taunting him. “Becker must be the big, bad man who fu…”
Before she could finish that comment, Lilith found herself pressed bodily against the wall, a tight hand gripping her throat, hard, angular hip bruising her pubis.
“You don’t want to say that, Lilith,” Jack murmured, his voice raspy and threatening, his peppermint breath fanning her face.
“S’ry, Jack,” she wheezed, “’n called…for.”
And then she was free, a shivering pile on the carpet, aroused, angry, and frightened in equal measure—as usual. Lilith rubbed at her throat, searching for words, something scathing to restore her pride and singe Jack’s ego, when her secretary interrupted.
“Excuse me. Is Mr. Aschtholdt with you, ma’am?” Ginger enquired neutrally.
“Phone call for him.” She paused. “A Mr. Becker, sir.”
“Transfer it,” Jack snarled, moving toward her phone.
In the short time he’d been with her, Lilith had noted that Jack never spoke on the phone. She’d expected him to be in touch with old friends, looking for new fun, something. But not Jack. And now he was grabbing the handset, a look of alarm settling across his face. This was a phone call she didn’t want to miss.
****
Becker…holy shit. Jack strode back to the desk, ignoring everything but the phone. What could he possibly want? How should Jack address him? Something must truly be wrong if Becker was on the phone.
He hit the button. It wouldn’t pay to keep this man waiting.
“Hail?” he croaked.
“Good boy, Jackie,” the warm, thick rumble praised him in lieu of a greeting.
Jack relaxed in relief. He’d made the right choice.
“I’m glad to hear from you,” he gushed, though carefully. “Is--is everything all right?”
“We got to go sooner, Jackie. Something I want there,” Becker’s gravelly voice sounded oddly soothing to Jack, like a caress. “Tim won’t be comin’, he’s hurting.”
Jack knew what that meant, no question. They’d gone to the area where Ashley and Tracey lived and Becker had gotten riled up. Poor Tim. Jack resisted the urge to ask if the other man would recover at all.
Quickly, before he could lose his nerve, Jack rushed forward to tell, explain.
“Lilith wants to bring some...werewolves,” he got out. Becker hadn’t been unaware of them.
There was silence on the line. It lasted so long that Jack was becoming nervous.
With difficulty, he managed to refrain from speaking to fill the gap.
“Can she hear me?” Becker’s voice was cold now. Jack shivered.
“No,” he squeaked.
“Make her hear me,” Becker ordered, harsh.
Jack swallowed with difficulty, leaning across the desk to put the call on speaker.
Becker’s labored breathing filled the room sounding ominous and threatening.
“Okay,” Jack forced out.
“You listenin’, wolf-woman?” Becker rasped, his voice even, uninflected, and all the more menacing for it.
“Yes,” Lilith answered. She sounded small to Jack.
“You bring who you want,” Becker began. Jack saw some of the tension leave Lilith’s wary frame. He knew better and waited. “Things don’t go like I say, I’ll rip your throat out and drown ‘em in your blood.”
The silence was total. Jack waited, wondering how Lilith was taking Becker’s portent. She cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. Jack noticed that her breathing was heavier, faster.
“Yeah,” she answered, sounding husky.
“Tonight, Jackie,” Becker ordered flatly. “Bring her.”
“Yes,” Jack answered, locking eyes with Lilith.
She blinked rapidly, fear apparent on her face. Becker severed the connection.
****
Intersection of Jones Mt. Rd and GA-136
Talking Rock, GA
Myles roamed up the slope to where the man’s car had been parked. He and Mik had been over the terrain between the road and the hillock several times. They’d arrived too late to stop the man so that meant the worst.
He would be back later. The threat was still out there and his family was in danger. Myles knew that he needed to turn for home, to return and explain to Jacob that he’d failed and the enemy had gotten away.
“Let up on yourself, son,” Mik’s ringing baritone called Myles back from his reverie.
By unspoken agreement, the two turned and began loping back toward the two houses on Darke Woods Road.
“I should have caught him, Mik. Now he’ll be back…”
Mik stopped, turned, jumped up on him, planting his huge paws on Myles’ shoulders.<
br />
“Stop it, Myles. You’ve done all you can.” Myles turned his head away, disgusted with himself. “How do you think Jacob feels?”
“Jacob?” Myles yelped, looking back at Mik in alarm. “God, he did everything! He got Tayler out of there, he got us over, showed us the guy—even did some kind of seer hocus pocus…what more could he have done?”
“Well, unless you are above the laws of physics, you need to ask yourself the same question, son,” Mik observed wryly.
Myles lowered his eyes in embarrassment. He had no doubt that Jacob was indeed torturing himself that he hadn’t conquered the foe and saved the damsel, or the pup. Mik dropped back to all fours, turning toward the house once again.
“Guess we’d better hurry,” Myles stretched his legs a little farther, increased his gait a little more. “Bet Ashley and Sherm’ll be worried.”
“I expect so,” Mik observed, trotting along beside him easily. “So things are better between you and Ashley, then, huh?” he asked nonchalantly.
Myles stole a glance at his furry parent. “Yeah, we talked a lot of it through,” he answered vaguely. Not much got by the old man, he knew. Those pointed furry ears heard everything. “We’re taking it a day at a time.”
“Gonna keep Sherman with you awhile?” Mik went on. Myles couldn’t guess what was going through Mik’s mind.
“Until he feels ready to go on his own,” Myles allowed, waiting for the next question.
“You’ve been alone a long time,” Mik observed, and this, Myles realized, was the point. “It’s nice to be needed like that, have people you love depend on you so much, huh?”
Myles grinned and shook his head. “You telling me, you didn’t really need me or depend on me, old man?” He was sure that, without the fur, Mik’s cheeks would be somewhat red. “That’s a little obvious, even for you, Mik,” Myles teased.
“Well, you weren’t convincing me,” Mik sounded sheepish.
“I’ll spell it out, because I love you,” he winked. “Don’t want you to work so hard.” Mik chuckled. “I know they’ll both love me, even when they’re better. I want a happy, healthy relationship with my princess. I want my boy Sherman to get a mate, be happy. They’re gonna need me and depend on my anyway, same as I do them—and you. We’re family.”
Mik beamed proudly at him. “Good answer,” he rumbled, turning to face a wide gorge. “Think you can jump that, son?” he teased.
“I got meself over ‘ere, din’ I?” Myles teased back.
Mik picked up speed and leapt the divide, not slowing down after he landed.
Myles grinned and followed him across. The sooner he was home, the better.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Home of Tracey and Tavist Darke
Darke Woods Road
Talking Rock, GA
Ashley sat near the window, looking out at the lengthening shadows of the late afternoon. She was distantly confused by the fact that she didn’t want to be outside, but she wanted to be able to see outside.
She knew what she was really doing, of course. She was distracting herself from the fact that Myles wasn’t here with her. It was ironic, really, when she’d kept herself apart from him for so long and now the idea of not having him with her was frightening.
It could be that she’d learned how fragile life was, having seen it ripped away by something as detached as the weather. The forces of nature were so uncaring and impersonal that they could kill or cure with no consideration at all. Age, ability, health, wealth, none of that mattered to the vagaries of the environment.
When he’d held her in his arms at her apartment, Ashley had realized in a blinding rush that time was not on her side. Anything could happen and she and Myles had let too many hours, days, years go by living in misery.
The truth was and always would be that she loved Myles and he loved her. They could work out any issues they had—as long as they were both alive.
“What ya thinking about, sweet knees?” Ashley smiled and scooted over so that Sherman could sit next to her, looking out of the long dormer windows over the porch.
“Myles,” Ashley answered simply. Sherman would probably understand.
“He’s…He really came through for ya, huh, Ash? For both of us,” Sherman smiled sadly. “And you were gonna give up on him,” he accused without heat.
“We had it backwards, didn’t we?” she asked him gently. She wanted to talk about Lilith if he did. Sherman had to be hurting; he’d really loved Lilith.
“Yeah, we did. She’s a hateful woman, Ash. I was trying to give her a heart and she just wanted a wallet.”
Ashley leaned forward and touched Sherman’s cheek. She’d never seen him looking so young. For all that he was a brilliant captain of industry, Sherman wasn’t even thirty years old…he would be sometime this year, but not yet. She wondered if the silver hair made him look older and what it was that made him seem younger now. Perhaps it was the hurt of his broken heart finally eclipsing the resolve that had kept him in check for so long.
“How’re you doing, otherwise?” Ashley braved asking. She hated to upset Sherman, she hated to be upset. But she needed to know…would he understand the question?
“You mean, is it weird? Do I wake up reaching for the walls, trying to figure out if they’re dirt or…or where I am?” Ashley’s eyes filled with tears and she nodded. He took her hand. “Sometimes, I hear them crying. I try to comfort them and it turns out to be your old man, comforting me,” he sniffed, giving her a watery smile. “Guess I’m doing okay.”
“We’re pretty screwed up, all things considered, huh?” Ashley bit her lip. “You ready to see this shrink?” she asked candidly.
Sherman grinned and rolled his eyes. “A werewolf shrink? The woman ought to be all about post traumatic stress disorder.”
Ashley began to snicker and then Sherman began to snicker, too
****
Baton Rouge Metropolitan Airport
Northwest Airlines flight 9612
Runway 4L/22R
T Paul was incensed. The flight had been delayed, followed by late boarding and now they sat out on the taxiway somewhere idling. They’d been out here so long, hours now, that a fuel truck had come out and filled up the airplane’s tank again.
Werewolves hated flying. The change in air pressure wreaked havoc on their inner ear. He wouldn’t have put himself or his family through the trauma of flying if getting somewhere hadn’t been that important.
“Calm down, T,” Lacey said calmly. “Sighing like a leaky balloon isn’t gonna get us outta here any sooner.”
“I know, I know…” In spite of himself he sighed again. “I hate being trapped like this. Like a hostage. If they’d just drive the plane back over to the gate, we could get in the car and drive. We coulda been there by now!” he growled.
“We’re here and we’re stuck, it’s not the airline’s fault, honey. There are rules. You’re just upsetting the girls, fretting like that,” Lacey scolded lightly.
“I am not upsetting the girls. Being stuck here while little Tayler is stuck somewhere else is upsetting the girls. Aw, shit, I’m just ready to get off this thing and get on with my life, Lacey, that’s all.” She was the perfect doctor’s wife and the perfect female alpha. Always calm until it was time to get ugly. He knew sometimes, she must really have to work at that calm of hers. “I’m sorry, honey, I know you’re worried, too.”
“Damned right I am,” Lacey growled low, flipping a magazine page with undue force. “Some things are just bigger than one person’s problems. I guess the Federal Aviation Administration is one of those things,” she rumbled, her sweet voice heavy and rough.
A quick glance showed T Paul that she was fighting to keep her fangs from lengthening. He slipped an arm around her.
“I love ya, sugar. We’ll get there eventually, I guess. Breathe deep with me.”
Lacey leaned into him and smiled tightly. “I’ll do my best,” she murmured.
****
I
-575 North/GA 5
Toward Canton, GA
Lilith didn’t know who owned the nearly new Grande Marquis she was currently riding in, but she didn’t care, either. She was just glad to be sitting in the front seat instead of the back. Jack was in the back seat, sitting next to the most frightening man she’d ever met. Bar none.
In a show of bravado, or perhaps she’d simply been going on instinct, she’d growled at the man when he’d wrapped a hand around the back of Jack’s neck, pulling him a little closer. It hadn’t been an intimate gesture so much as it was possessive. Lilith had objected to that.
She had become quite possessive of Jack in a very short time. Used to getting what she wanted and keeping it, she would share Jack if needs be, but make no mistake about it, he was hers. Or so she’d thought.
The man hadn’t made a sound in response to her warning growl. But when he’d turned those flat, dead obsidian eyes on her, she’d felt something slither across her spine.
For the first time since she was a pup, Lilith dropped her eyes and lowered her head.
It didn’t even matter to her that the Weres she’d assembled had seen it. Some of them had made vague noises of backing out until Becker had turned that chilling gaze on them.
Lilith shivered. One thing she felt pretty certain of—Sherman would not bother her after tonight. That man would see to it. If Becker planned for someone to die, she had no doubt that they would.
****
Jack sat still as the miles slipped by, bringing him closer and closer to his sons.
He was also that much closer to his ex-wife Tracey and her daughter and the payback they so richly deserved.
He didn’t look over at Becker, he didn’t need to. The big man’s body was as tight as a guitar string, practically humming. His entire energy was focused, right now on Jack but not only him.