Mayhem cleared his throat, his heart racing with renewed panic. Why he’d thought this would be a simple fix he couldn’t say. Dani had warned him it wasn’t going to be easy, but the connection he felt with Hannah made it seem like nothing was insurmountable.
“I know what you think, and it’s not true! I spoke with Dani, and she told me—”
“Enough! I won’t have this conversation with you! What’s done is done. Just leave me alone.” He heard a thump on the door. “Please, just leave me alone. This is humiliating enough.” She cried quietly, a sound that broke his heart into a million fucking pieces.
“Hannah,” he whispered mournfully, knowing he didn’t have enough time to mend what was broken. Hoping if he came back again the next night, right at sunset, he’d be able convince her to let him in so he could explain. He just needed to touch her. If he could touch her, she would understand.
“Go away, Mayhem.”
He glanced over his shoulder at the moon. He still had several hours before daylight. Perhaps it was time better spent writing Hannah a letter—a proper letter that might ease some of the hurt she was feeling.
“Okay, sweetheart.” He winced. “Hannah, I’m going to leave, but I’m not gone for good. I’ll be back tomorrow night and the night after that until you speak to me, and I’m gonna write you a letter and send it tomorrow.”
He laid his hand on the door, letting the silence envelop him. If he strained his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of muffled sobs.
Fucking hell.
Chapter Ten
“I swear I had no idea she was gonna turn out to be your mate!” Raven exclaimed as he paced Mayhem’s dressing room. “Knew you liked redheads. What are the odds she would be the one?”
“No shit, right?” Mayhem blew out a long breath. “She won’t talk to me. Won’t answer my calls, won’t come to the door.” For three weeks he’d been at it, trying to get her to come out of her apartment and speak to him, juggling a hectic tour schedule and trying to regain Hannah’s trust at every available moment.
He craved her so profoundly that he couldn’t think straight. His wolf prowling, demanding he claim her. He’d had to hide fangs more than once, his wolf punching through at the slightest provocation.
“That’s not good.” Raven’s expression was grim, no doubt thinking the same thing. Hunters could be on their way to claim her. “Kidnapping out of the question?”
Take Hannah against her will? Mayhem was sorely tempted. If it wasn’t for the potential for death—namely his—he’d actually give the idea of it some serious thought.
Unbeknownst to Hannah, she was a Huntress, part of the only living force on Earth who could kill Mayhem. There was no way she would consider herself unimportant, forgettable if she knew her destiny. Whether or not her mother knew of the legacy was debatable. She might have abandoned Hannah in an attempt to spare her child the knowledge of a legacy that could kill her, or she might be dead, killed by a wolf. Or worse—she might have been swept up and away by her Hunter, leaving Hannah to fend for herself. One thing was certain though, if she’d known what she was, Hannah would never believe herself to be anything but amazing.
A wolf slayer by birth, her DNA coming from an ancient line of female warriors, she held the power to fatally wound his wolf and therefore him, even by accident. So there’d be no kidnapping, not when any wound from a Huntress would pump him full of poison, leaving him weak, dying, unable to lead his pack.
“I should have bitten her. Marked her as mine.”
“And then what? Have a hysterical woman on your hands? Trust me, man, that’s not the best plan either.” Dyami, his drummer, had been sitting quietly in the corner. He’d been in that exact position with his mate, facing off with her Hunter, a man destined to be her mate just as surely as Dyami had been. He’d bitten Summer out of desperation, and although it worked out in the end, it hadn’t been the best way to introduce her to the world of werewolves.
“You know the Hunters will come for her. It’s only a matter of time.” Mayhem felt the pulse of possession beat through him. Hannah belonged to him. He knew that—his wolf knew that. Trying to convince Hannah, however, was the real problem. Hannah who had grown up as a human, and who was now acting like the quintessential pissed off woman, freezing him out and ignoring his very existence.
“We could get Darcy to zap her with a little persuasive magic. Jolt her into common sense, at least get her to speak to you.” Raven shrugged. He’d been the first to find his mate—a witch who had cursed him with a lust spell. When he’d bitten her, her powers had amplified, making her one of the most powerful Huntresses of the group.
That was the other thing. When Mayhem bit Hannah, she too would come into her powers…whatever they were. Another potentially terrifying experience for Hannah to deal with. Add that to the fantastical reality that werewolves existed and that she would have to choose whether she wanted to be on side with the beasts or the side with the slayers, and he had the makings of a full blown mental breakdown. No, he couldn’t do that to her. She would have to come willingly. No magic, no kidnapping—no matter how badly he wanted her by his side.
“One hour ’til sound check, boys,” Dave said as he strode into the room, grimacing when he saw Mayhem’s disheveled appearance. “She still not talking to you?”
Mayhem ran his hand over his face, his jaw rough and unshaven. “No.”
“Another Huntress, eh?” Dave poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it in one go. “What’s with you guys finding these human women to bond with? Wouldn’t it be easier to mate with one of those Order Huntresses? Like Aubrey? At least she didn’t freak out too badly when she saw your wolf.”
Jay snorted as he sauntered into the room. “Yeah, it’s not like Aubrey shot and almost killed Dy or anything.” Aubrey was his mate, raised within the world of The Order of the Wolf. She had always believed she would one day be a Huntress, mated to a Hunter. She’d been training for it her whole life, raised with full knowledge of the existence of werewolves, certain that she would one day become a wolf slayer, only to end up siding with the wolves in the end, her love for Jaylon too strong to deny.
“Well, you have to admit, it makes it easier when you don’t have to explain the existence of things that shouldn’t exist.” Dave shook his head. “You remember when I found out?” He chuckled as he shook his head. “Nearly shit myself that day.”
“You came close to death that day, my friend.” Raven walloped Dave on the back, thumping him hard enough to make him spill his next shot.
Dave had been young, freshly on the scene and trying to make his name as a novice band manager scouting talent. He’d seen Mayhem singing at an open mic and trailed him to the run down little shack of a cottage the pack had been living in. Came back the next day with the idea to pitch his plan to make Mayhem a star only to find a pack of huge, pissed off wolves. He’d run. Raven and Jaylon had given chase. The man had nearly been ripped to pieces.
That had been over ten years ago, a time when Mayhem still had difficulty keeping control over his pack. Raven and Jaylon both unable to manage their rage, the bite of their siring werewolf toxic. Things the men rarely, if ever, discussed. In any case, they’d figured it out, Dave had survived, vowed fidelity to the pack, refused the bite himself. He was a strong man, a trusted friend, one of the pack without being one of the pack.
“Easier if she were, yes, but that doesn’t help my issue right now.” Mayhem took a shot glass for himself, motioning for Dave to pour him some whiskey. “As long as Hannah is out there, alone, her Hunter can find her. I need to convince her to be with me.”
“Before the tour kicks off for real,” Jaylon added.
Dave’s eyes grew wide. “Um, you mean, before next Friday? A week from now?”
Set to leave on a long overdue tour, everyone present knew that if the band postponed again, it would mean the
end of their career. Too many delays had the record execs on edge. No more changes. It was tour or get cut.
“Mayhem is gonna be useless to us if he doesn’t get Hannah,” Raven said.
“If by useless you mean not going, then yeah, I’ll be useless.” There was no way Mayhem would walk away from his mate and leave her up for grabs to the Hunters. It was never a question. If Hannah wasn’t by his side, he wasn’t leaving.
Dave frowned, looking unusually frazzled, the idea of his main moneymaker tanking his career clearly upsetting him. “Didn’t you say she worked at that magazine, Rock Hard?”
Mayhem snapped his gaze to meet Dave’s. “Yeah, she does.”
Dave’s face lit up with a smile. “Then leave it to me. You’ll get to talk to your girl tonight, right after the show.”
Chapter Eleven
It wasn’t difficult to follow Mayhem when his tour schedule was the topic of most conversations at her work. Luckily, no one knew of her connection to the rock star. It was bad enough listening to all the women gush over how sexy he was and how they’d all give their left leg to spend one night with the man. It made her sick. He was nothing but a playboy. A user.
And to make matters worse, he was turning into a bit of nuisance as well.
Up until two nights ago, he’d been at her place from dusk until almost dawn, every night, pleading with her to open the door and let him in. He was like the big bad wolf from that nursery rhyme, coming again and again, demanding her attention. He was lucky her neighbors, the tenants above and below her, didn’t call the cops and complain. It was like they didn’t even notice the huge hulk of a man demanding that she let him in. Perhaps she should have been worried, but for some reason, she didn’t believe he was going to harm her physically. The damage to her heart, however, was a whole other story.
He’d sent letters as well. Dozens of them. And she’d trashed each and every one. Letters? Who did that these days anyway? Old school.
She didn’t want to hear or read anything he had to say. She just didn’t want to know. She’d been down this road before and she wouldn’t be stupid a second time where Mayhem was concerned. Not when she knew how vulnerable she was to him. If she opened that door, she knew she’d be in his arms in a heartbeat. Her craving for the man was insatiable, and she half-thought she was going mad from wanting him.
Dani told her about the conversation she and Mayhem had had after the concert three weeks ago. The one where he’d supposedly professed his love for Hannah right after declaring he would not, under any circumstances, allow his blood to be tested for disease.
It was reckless on her part to have had unprotected sex in the first place, but infuriating all the same that he refused to give her some peace of mind. After all of the women he’d reportedly been with over the years…well, she’d done her research and it was astronomical—truly awe-inspiring, in a very sick and twisted way. She’d taken care of it herself, received a clean bill of health from her doctor and even got herself implanted with a birth control contraption, not that she thought she’d be needing it any time soon. She didn’t need Mayhem’s reassurances that he was clean, but it sure would have been nice if he’d been a little more considerate in that regard.
So, her heart wasn’t mending as she would have liked, and her body was a traitor, wanting what it couldn’t have. Mayhem had served his name well. He’d brought chaos to her life.
Luckily, according to one of the other reporters, Riot was wrapping up the west coast portion of their tour and heading overseas for a few months. Their last concert in the States was scheduled for that night and then Mayhem would be gone. It should have made her feel better, knowing he’d be out of her hair, no longer pounding on her door late at night. It didn’t though, not even remotely. In fact, the idea of him leaving made her heart hammer painfully, and had her stomach flipping in a nauseating way.
As she sat at her cubicle, spending yet another wasted moment reflecting on the shitty turn of events her life had taken, her boss, Norm Robertson, suddenly appeared, his looming figure startling her from her thoughts.
“Lane, I need to speak with you in my office. Now.” His gruff bark offered no room for negotiation.
Cringing, she warily followed the robust man, a gnawing feeling of apprehension overriding the nausea and settling deep within her gut. The tenuous hold she had on her job was slipping from her grasp as she knew it inevitably would. She was no star employee. An assistant editor was an expendable commodity, and she hadn’t exactly been playing to her strengths lately either. She’d missed a couple of deadlines over the past few weeks, her mind so burdened with thoughts of Mayhem she couldn’t keep up with the increasing workload.
This is it. He’s probably going to fire me!
“Lane,” he started as he rounded the side of his desk, throwing down a handful of papers before sitting in his chair. “How is it you know Mayhem of the band Riot?”
Of all the things Hannah had expected, this was not one of them. “Mayhem?” she sputtered as she quickly closed the door to his office.
Norm pursed his lips as he scrutinized her. “Don’t play coy with me. You have been requested by name, and I want to know why.”
Hannah frowned, still clenching the doorknob. “Requested for what?”
Norm blew out a long breath as he ran his stubby fingers through his greasy comb-over. “You’ve been requested for an interview. An exclusive. At his house. Tonight.”
She opened her mouth. Nothing but a squeak came out.
“You’re not even a reporter!” he said. “I told this Dave Strader yahoo as much, but he didn’t care. He says Mayhem has specifically asked for you. You!”
Hannah stumbled to the nearest chair and flopped down, her hand raised to cradle the side of her face. “What?”
“He’s got a show tonight, so you’re to be at his place by midnight. They’re sending a car to your house to pick you up. Don’t worry, I’ll have Dani or someone work up some questions for you.” He mumbled something harsh before looking down at his desk.
Hannah dropped her hand to her lap and stared at Norm with growing horror. “I can’t do it! I can’t interview that man.”
Her boss snapped his eyes up to meet hers, his face pulled into a tight frown. “You can’t? You can’t? Need I remind you, Lane, that your job here is temporary? I can easily replace you with another, more qualified editor. God knows there are hundreds of you people out there…the schools are just pumping you lot out.” He rifled through his papers before continuing. “Mayhem never gives interviews. Do you understand what that means, Lane? He has never given one to any magazine, newspaper or television show since he first burst into the metal scene ten years ago. For some reason, he wants you. So what’ll it be? You interested in keeping your job, or you want to tell me one more time that you can’t do the interview?”
Hannah felt a surge of vomit threaten to explode and she sucked in a deep breath, praying that she could keep it under control. Mayhem was setting her up. He was creating a situation where she would be forced to face him. That, or lose her job. And she couldn’t afford to lose her job—she was barely paying her rent as it was.
That bastard!
She pushed herself up from the chair, her legs quivering to the same tempo as her hands. “No, sir. I’ll do it.”
Norm grunted as he waved for her to leave. “Be ready by eleven. I’ll get the questions to you before then. And, Lane?”
Hannah turned in the open doorway, her eyes burning with unshed tears. “Yes?”
“I don’t care what you have to do to get this interview right. Record it, memorize it, tattoo it into your flesh. Whatever, just as long as you get it. ’Cause if you don’t, well…” He shuffled a few papers in front of him. “I doubt there will be much more work for you here in the future.”
Chapter Twelve
Dave’s idea had been beyond brilliant. In an a
ttempt to salvage the tour, the genius manager had concocted this foolproof plan to get Hannah right where Mayhem needed her—in his home and hopefully in his arms before the night was through.
The rest of the pack and their mates were headed to Vermont, where their home base was located. Mayhem, and hopefully Hannah, would follow along shortly. Mayhem owned a few mansions at various ends of the country to minimize the hotel stays, which were less than ideal for werewolves. Vermont was by far the best, with acres of forest to run. The California home was spacious, had gardens—beautiful gardens—but it wasn’t the same. Mayhem was itching to get back to the woods, especially before the trip overseas.
He just needed to convince Hannah that what he’d told her that first night had been the truth. She was his; they belonged together. Fairytale stuff. Didn’t women love that?
Not according to any of the mates. Summer, Aubrey and Darcy had all warned him that it would be a tough sell—getting Hannah to leave her family, leave her job, her friends, all for a man she just met? One she was steaming mad at? One she believed used her and tossed her?
“It’s not gonna be a cakewalk, brother.” Darcy had said.
Not a cakewalk, but Mayhem wasn’t out for the count—he had an ace up his sleeve and it started and ended with her ties to her job.
Did he feel bad that the interview was a ruse? Hell no! Not if it meant he got to speak with her, hopefully touch her—at least see her. After doing a little digging, he knew she’d likely lose her job if she didn’t come back with an interview, and he knew she was no reporter…but he didn’t intend to be parted from her after tonight. Once she became his mate, she’d never have to worry about money, security or love ever again.
She’d be his just as surely as he would be hers.
As for his wolf, the time would come to show her that side. Not yet, not tonight. He planned on taking things very, very slowly. To gain back Hannah’s trust, he’d do just about anything.
Mayhem: The Order of the Wolf, Book 5 Page 5