Death's Door (Supernatural Security Force Book 3)

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Death's Door (Supernatural Security Force Book 3) Page 9

by Heather Hildenbrand


  Jax stood on four legs, his panther glaring down at the motionless form before him. Rourke lay on his side, a large chunk of his throat ripped out. Blood coated Rourke’s neck and shirt, pooling underneath his head as it ran from his open veins.

  “Jax, what the hell.” My voice was breathy, shock making it impossible to speak any louder than a whisper.

  Milo came up behind me then stopped short. “Shit, man. Whoa.”

  He turned away and retreated, babbling to Fergie as a distraction.

  I couldn’t look away from Jax.

  “What did you do?” I demanded, my voice rising as the reality sank in.

  Jax finally looked up at me, blood coating his panther’s snout. His eyes were unblinking—and unapologetic.

  That, more than the act itself, disturbed me.

  My temper welled up, heat boiling underneath my skin. I pinned him with a look that carried the full weight of my thoughts about his impulsive act.

  “Shift,” I said sharply. “Now.”

  Then I retreated outside again.

  Across the darkened backyard, Milo met my eyes.

  “Did she see anything?” I asked. Like it mattered. She’d caused more carnage as a toddler than Jax had done as a predatory beast.

  But he shook his head. “I don’t think so,” he said, and for some reason, I felt better.

  When Milo started for me, I held up my hand. “Keep her over there.” Then I rounded on Jax, who’d re-emerged on two legs again, and tried to decide if I had the self-control not to murder him in front of his demon daughter.

  Jax’s expression was set in a hard stare. Good. I wasn’t in the mood for easy apologies.

  “You had no cause for that,” I said.

  “He insulted your honor. That was cause enough.”

  Out of all the things I’d expected him to say. All the defenses…

  “You did that for my honor?” My voice rose, my temper building. “He was our best source of information. Not to mention leverage. What the hell is the matter with you?”

  “I don’t trust that asshole. His information was unreliable, and the leverage he provided was flimsy at best. You can’t think Selaphiel actually gives a shit about him.”

  “That wasn’t your call to make.”

  “Nothing is, is it?”

  His voice took on an edge that had me blinking in surprise.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment until finally, he blew out a breath, his shoulders sagging. Some of the fight left his eyes.

  “I’m an alpha, Gem. I don’t take orders. And I’m not accustomed to democracy. I did what I did to protect you. Asking my beast for anything less will only result in disappointment.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to scream in frustration or give in to my more base desires and smash my fist into his mouth.

  “You’re tired,” he said, incorrectly reading my internal debate—and the reason for my silence. “We all are. I have a safe place for us to rest. We can talk about all this later.”

  “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He frowned. His gaze flicked to the house behind me.

  “You could stay here,” he said slowly. “With Raphziel’s protection, it would be safe enough.”

  “I’m not staying here,” I assured him. “I’ll find somewhere else.”

  “The townhouse?” he demanded.

  I didn’t answer.

  His eyes flashed, and I could still see plenty of temper remained below the surface. “You promised to come with me,” he said quietly. “We had a deal.”

  I bit my tongue against the stream of curses I wanted to let fly. He was right. I’d promised. But more than that, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. Not without putting more people I cared about on Selaphiel’s radar. Dammit.

  “Fine,” I said. “But no more killing witnesses.”

  His jaw hardened, and I remembered what he’d said about not taking orders. “Please,” I added through gritted teeth.

  His smile was more just a flash of teeth than anything else. “Deal.”

  I stalked back to where Milo waited with Fergie.

  “We’re leaving,” I muttered.

  “Where are we going?” Milo asked.

  “Back to Jax’s safe house.” I glanced from Milo, whose exhaustion showed through the stoic expression he wore, to Fergie, who slumped against his shoulder with heavy eyelids. “We need sleep.”

  Milo’s gaze flicked over my shoulder then back to me. “You good?” he asked, but I knew what he really meant.

  One word, and Milo would follow me into the unknown. But that’s why I couldn’t do it, no matter how angry I was at Jax. I couldn’t put my friends in danger for the sake of my temper.

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “Let’s just sleep, and then we’ll figure everything out.”

  “That works for me.”

  We started for where Jax waited at the far end of the yard near the gate. I hesitated, wondering if I should go inside and tell my mother we were leaving. But in the end, I decided against it. After I’d slept, and after I’d worked off some of my temper about Jax’s executive decision, I’d touch base with her. But right now, it was safest for all involved if I didn’t have another run-in with Raphziel tonight.

  I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.

  She texted back almost immediately, complete with a smiley face emoji. Since when did my mother use emojis? Probably since she started hanging out with Raphziel.

  Ugh.

  I slid the battery out of my phone and dropped the separate pieces in the grass near my feet. If Selaphiel really wanted me dead, I wasn’t going to make it easy on her.

  “What about the body?” Milo asked as we joined Jax.

  He already had the gate open. Through it, I could see a car waiting that I hadn’t even sensed before. A dark SUV with black windows that even my fae sight couldn’t penetrate.

  “I called a cleanup team,” Jax said.

  I cut him a look, irritated at his preparedness. But it was easier than trying to do it myself. Already, exhaustion had set in, and I could feel my energy flagging.

  I sighed and followed Jax to the car, demon baby and bestie trailing tiredly behind me.

  Chapter Ten

  Jax’s safe house didn’t suck. I’d hated admitting that last night, but in the light of morning—okay, midday if I was being honest—I’d woken in full appreciation of the soft sheets and relaxing ambience my room provided. Faint light leaked in through bamboo blinds, and plush carpeting softened my steps as I made my way to the attached bathroom.

  Upon arrival last night, Jax had shown us around his three-bedroom penthouse apartment and then promptly disappeared. I’d been more than happy to see him go and that he’d left Fergie with me. She’d slept soundly in bed next to me, her light snores not enough to bother me as sleep had dragged me under.

  Now, she fell-slash-jumped down from the large bed and waddled into the bathroom behind me. I eyed her as she crawled into the empty tub and stared up at me doe-eyed and innocent looking.

  “You want a bath,” I said.

  In answer, she reached for the spigot with chubby hands. Smiling, I leaned down and turned the knobs for her. The moment water spilled into the basin, she squealed and splashed.

  At least she was easily amused.

  I brushed my teeth, trying not to think too hard about how and why fresh toiletries had already been provided. Okay, the toothbrush was one thing. The fresh clothes in exactly my size was a little more disconcerting.

  It should have felt sweet.

  But after Jax’s sudden display last night, “sweet” wasn’t a word I’d use. Not for him.

  He’d been a perfect gentleman on the ride over and during the quick tour, but I couldn’t let go of what he’d done to Rourke. Or how unexpectedly his rage had come.

  After a few hours of sleep, I felt more prepared to deal with it, though. Hopefully, my reaction
today would involve less mouth-punching than it might have last night. If Fergie hadn’t been there…

  Huh. Motherhood had made me softer apparently. The idea that a baby had made me a better person wasn’t that farfetched—unless you considered the fact that my baby was a flesh-eating demon.

  Thoughtful, I looked down in time to see Fergie rip the end off a washcloth and eat it. She beamed up at me, clearly having the time of her life.

  Someone knocked, and I decided to let her have the washcloth. There were worse things to eat for breakfast.

  I opened the bedroom door and found Milo waiting in the hall beside a serving cart laden with refreshments.

  “Morning,” I said.

  “I don’t mean to sound blasphemous, but let’s never leave this place,” he said as he wheeled the cart into my room.

  I smirked as he parked it beside the bistro table and began pouring coffee. “I’ll be sure to let Jax know his service is five-star.”

  “Look, if this is what it’s like to be a mob boss alpha, I don’t want to go straight.”

  “Pretty sure you were never straight, to begin with,” I pointed out.

  He scowled. “It’s an expression. Who needs the straight and narrow when the criminal life is so posh?”

  “Jax isn’t a criminal.”

  He handed me a mug of coffee. “Honey, technically, we all are.”

  “He’s not a mob boss.”

  Milo smirked as he sipped his own mug. “Whatever helps you sleep better at night.”

  “You’re ridiculous.”

  “Please. You saw how quickly his bitch-switch got flipped last night. And all because some douchey warlock insulted your honor. The only people who flip like that and still say please and thank you while holding your doors open are serial killers and mafia bosses. And I don’t think Jax is a serial killer. I mean, I’m pretty sure, anyway.”

  “Pretty sure?” I teased.

  “Look around. Most serial killers prefer basements and off-grid housing. This penthouse apartment is definitely paid for with blood money.”

  “You really need to stop watching crime TV. Jax is not mob or mafia.”

  “Warlord then.”

  “Ugh.” I took a long drink of coffee, letting the hot liquid burn through my urge to argue.

  In the silence, a thump sounded from the bathroom.

  “Shit. Fergie.” I set my cup aside and rushed through the open door. Fergie stood on the bare floor, her scaly little body dripping bathwater onto the shiny white tile. The tub water had turned a subtle shade of pink that left me with a lot of questions. Like, was her pigment somehow leaking out of her little body? If I put her in the washing machine, would she stain all my whites? So weird.

  But the thing that made me stare in speechless wonder were her feet.

  “Uh, since when is our little bundle of murder joy part duck?”

  Milo’s voice rang out behind me, asking the very question my brain was too stuck to form.

  “That is a damn good question,” I said, still staring at the webbing that had just sort of appeared.

  We both stared, at a loss for answers.

  “Were they like that before she got in the tub?” Milo asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Hmm. Maybe she’s part water horse?”

  “Milo, that’s a kid’s movie. Not a real species of supe.”

  “You never know,” he muttered, clearly into the idea of Fergie somehow evolving into a mythical creature.

  “You should ask your boyfriend if the water here is treated with any weird chemicals.”

  “What kind of chemicals would give someone webbed feet?” I asked.

  “I don’t know, but I’m not showering until we find out.”

  A knock at the door interrupted our insane speculation. “Gem, may I have a word?” Jax called.

  Milo and I exchanged a look.

  “Speak of the devil,” he said with an arched brow. Before I could respond, Milo walked to the door and pulled it open.

  “Hey, boss,” Milo said brightly, and I rolled my eyes.

  Jax stepped past him, and I watched as his eyes landed on me then flicked to something behind me. I turned to see Fergie waddling out of the bathroom, still dripping a trail of bathwater as she came.

  “What happened to her feet?” Jax asked.

  “You tell us,” Milo said accusingly.

  Jax shook his head, obviously confused and unwilling to take the risk of asking. Probably for the best. Instead, he strode into the bathroom and reappeared with a towel that he wrapped around the dripping monster. Then he scooped Fergie into his arms and studied me carefully.

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “You mean, am I still pissed you killed our only lead?”

  He didn’t look nearly remorseful enough as he said, “For starters.”

  Fergie snapped her teeth, barely missing taking a chunk out of his arm. He flipped her around with a deft movement, laughing as he set her in a chair at the bistro table. “Someone’s hungry,” he said, gesturing to the spread of fruit, yogurt, eggs, and bacon on the cart. “What would you like?”

  Fergie craned her neck, examining her choices, then pointed at the bacon. “Dead meat.”

  Milo shot me a look that was both disgusted and amused.

  “At least her vocabulary is expanding,” he said.

  Jax snickered as he handed her a piece of bacon. “You’re not wrong.” Fergie snatched the greasy strip and licked it then popped it into her mouth like a fruit strip.

  Jax looked back at me. “Can we talk?”

  I shot Milo a look.

  “Go.” He waved me toward the door. “I’ll dine with the ugly duckling.” I shot him a glare. He smiled sweetly. “I meant, Swan Princess, of course.”

  I hesitated another moment then followed Jax out into the hall. Instead of stopping there, he continued, pushing open a door at the far end of the corridor. He turned back, clearly waiting for me to join him.

  I sighed and followed him inside.

  The room was even larger than my own, and I realized with a start it was a full suite bedroom-slash-sitting area. Jax’s bedroom-slash-sitting area.

  I beelined for the sitting area and then just stood.

  The floor-length windows overlooked downtown, and I pretended the view had stolen my attention. But every part of me was aware of his presence near the loveseat behind me.

  “Can we talk?” he asked when the silence stretched.

  I turned to face him. “About last night? I think I said everything.”

  “About what comes next.”

  “I don’t know. Are you asking what I think? Or telling me what you’re going to do? Or do you even plan to inform me first?”

  “I deserve that,” he said quietly.

  “I need a phone,” I said, unwilling to do this back-and-forth dance where he clearly wanted me to just forgive him and move on.

  He walked to a chest of drawers near the writing desk tucked in the corner and pulled open the top drawer. He took something out of it and then shut it again, holding the package out for me. “Here.”

  I took it, unsurprised. “Just like that,” I said. “You have burner phones lying around?”

  “I had my security team purchase them when the SSF added me to their wanted list.”

  I scowled. That made sense.

  “Why are you determined to hate me?”

  I blinked, narrowing my eyes at him. “You didn’t have to kill him.”

  “You kill demons all the time. That guy was responsible for summoning them here. What’s the difference?”

  “He was tied up, Jax. Unable to defend himself.”

  “He was a threat.”

  I crossed my arms. “To my honor.”

  “To your life.”

  “He was bound,” I repeated.

  “His mind wasn’t.”

  My free hand curled into a fist. Maybe a mouth punch wasn’t off the table. “What does that even mean?�
��

  He hesitated, suddenly unwilling to meet my eyes.

  “Jax, what are you not telling me?” I demanded.

  After another beat, he sighed as if giving in. “I can sense someone’s intentions.”

  His words were sharp, and the moment he’d spoken them, he turned away, scowling as if he hadn’t meant to say them at all.

  “You can sense,” I said slowly, digesting that. “As in, read their minds?”

  “Not exactly.” He moved to the window and shoved his hands into his pockets, staring out at the view beyond the glass. “I didn’t inherit the alpha position. I won it. Through combat. Did you know that?”

  “I didn’t, actually.”

  Where was this going? And why hadn’t Jax ever told me he had a gift? Not that he owed me an explanation. Before all this started, we’d shared an explosive make-out session at a party. I didn’t know much about him beyond what he’d let me see since then. And I was beginning to realize that Jax had only let me see a small piece of himself. Never the whole picture.

  “I grew up in the bayou. My mother was a panther and my father was a human. When she found out she was pregnant with me, she tried to soften the truth for him, but he didn’t stick around once he found out what she was. What he’d helped create.”

  “Jax, I’m sorry.” Some of my anger leaked away.

  A father who would turn his back on an innocent child was no father at all.

  “At first, I thought my ability to read people was nothing more than intuition. Cat shifters are known for that trait. It wasn’t until my mother died that I realized I had access to something more.”

  “How did she die?” I asked.

  “I could say it was the drugs or the alcohol. Hell, maybe she pissed off the wrong person. But in the end, I think it was a broken heart.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said again.

  When he fell silent, I waited, letting him gather his thoughts. Or relive whatever memories haunted him.

  “When she died, she left me nothing but a pile of debt and some very unfriendly people looking to collect. When they came for me, I fought as hard as I could, but it wasn’t enough. I was young. Untrained. My beast was no match for theirs. They brought me into the city and presented me to the alpha as a living repayment. He ordered me to serve him for five years in order to pay off what my mother owed. He claimed he’d offered her protection, money, all sorts of things I never saw when she’d been alive.”

 

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