Hidden Powers

by Tara Lain

  “Yes. They were, uh, grandfathered in, so to speak. My mom had a half-werewolf son, my brother Lindsey, and she adopted me before she even knew werewolves existed. Same thing for Pop-Pop. He’s the grandfather of werewolves, as well as the head of the Vanessen Pack.”

  “How the hell did that happen?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Another time, then. But my community is the same. We don’t let humans know about us, so I can’t do anything rash.”

  Jazz gave him a look. “Running around Vanessen Enterprises invisible might be considered extreme by some.”

  “Look who’s talking.”

  “Okay, my brain’s spinning, and I’m pretty sure I’m scheduled for a nervous breakdown, but I have to wait until this whole thing with Pop-Pop and the pack is resolved.”

  “You saw their photo?”

  “Yes. And sadly, it’s probably real. Somebody took a photo at a full-moon run. Of course, Pop-Pop isn’t a werewolf, like you said, but my brothers are, so sometimes Mom and Pop-Pop attend pack events.” He shivered. “The problem is, if the pack thinks my family was responsible for revealing the existence of werewolves to a bunch of humans, I’m not sure even my brothers can protect them. If anyone hurts my mom or grandfather, seriously, we’re talking war. Lots of dead people and wolves. Hell, it could even spread to the human population. It would be bad, Dash. Really bad.”

  Dash put a hand on his arm and the warmth melted a little of the ice gripping his heart. “Then we’ve got to stop Evenride. If we step in now before it goes any further, we’re golden.”

  “How?”

  He pointed a finger at his chest then flipped it to Jazz. “Uh, magician.”

  “Magic’s not real.”

  “It is in my world. Yours too. You just don’t know it yet.”

  Jazz nodded. “Okay. I want to believe you.” He stared into those green, green eyes and felt like he was slipping into a warm Caribbean sea. “Do people see you differently than I do?”

  Dash exploded a laugh. “Yes. Or at least, I think so. I’m not sure what you see.”

  Jazz leaned forward. “Whose side are you on?”

  Dash’s mouth opened and closed.

  Jazz frowned. “What does Lysandra have to do with this whole thing? Why does she care about me or my family?”

  “I-I don’t know.” He actually sounded uncertain, a rarity for the dashing Dash. “I think she only cares about you, not your family, but I don’t know why.”

  Jazz frowned. “Are you really on my family’s side, or are you a stooge for Lysandra Mason?”

  He stared at Jazz as if he wanted to drink from his soul. “I don’t know that, either.” Running a hand over his midnight hair, he said, “You’ve got to get this. She’s my mentor, my mistress.” He snorted. “No, not like that. She’s the one who woke my power and brought me into my identity. It’s a strong bond. Maybe like you feel for your alpha.”

  “Is she more powerful than you?”

  “I honestly don’t know. She says she is. Probably.”

  “But you haven’t told her about me being wolfy?”

  “No.” He stared at the steering wheel.

  “Will she turn you into a frog?”

  Dash laughed, and Jazz joined in, but then he asked, “Why didn’t you tell her?”

  Dash shrugged but didn’t meet Jazz’s eyes. “I don’t know what she’ll do with the information. I guess I was worried.”

  “About me?” He tried not to grin.

  “Yeah.” Again, no eye contact.

  “Because of my adorable furriness?”

  “Something like that.” He looked at Jazz sideways and smiled softly, an expression designed to light a heart on fire while exploding a guy’s balls.

  Jazz wanted to dive across the console and check out both those options, but some trickle of a thought about his date with Baldwyn locked him in the seat. Jazz cleared his throat. “I think the time has come to choose.” He held up a hand. “Don’t misunderstand. I’m not saying her or me. I just mean, are you or aren’t you in on whatever we decide to do about Evenride and his band of merry liars and thieves?” He held up his other hand. “And if you’re with us, you have to be pretty selective about the stuff you share with Lysandra.”

  “I’m with you.” He looked a little shell-shocked but nodded firmly. “Yes, I’m with you.”

  “Then let’s get in there and find out what’s going on.”

  “Okay.” Dash didn’t move.

  “Okay?” Jazz stared at him.

  Dash turned his glistening stare at Jazz, and suddenly any trace of average guy vanished. His eyes glinted emerald green, the fire in his hair blazed, his skin glowed like alabaster, and even the tint of his lips was some perfect shade of pink.

  “No fair,” Jazz whispered. His stomach had just enough time to do a double backflip before Dash shot out a hand, clasped the back of Jazz’s head, and pulled their mouths together.

  For an instant, Jazz froze. Then a bolt of electricity zapped through his lips into his brain and headed south. As it traveled, Jazz’s wolf awoke, took a big stretch, and growled low and hungry. Some humanlike piece of Jazz’s mind cringed in panic, but his alpha nature reveled in the heat and wanted to roll on the ground naked, pulling Dash with him.

  Dash’s mouth felt full of light—cool and hot like the moon and the sun at once. His tongue plunged deep and explored while his fingers twined sinuously through Jazz’s hair. Dash really knew how to kiss. Do they teach you that in wizard school? If so, sign me up.

  Jazz wanted to follow Dash’s lead, but his wolf was racing way out in front. Jazz wrapped his arms as tightly as he could get them around Dash and half crawled across the console. But this was a very small car, and they were very tall guys.

  His wolf didn’t care. It wanted to get closer, skin to skin, and grind and thrust and….

  Dash pulled back. “Did you growl?”

  For a second, the wolf’s eyes stared out through Jazz’s, and all he saw was sex. Better than food, but scary.

  “Holy crap, your eyes are glowing,” Dash gasped.

  Jazz sucked in a breath and blinked. “Sorry. Yeah, sorry.” A couple more inhales had his wolf grumbling in retreat.

  “Whoa. I really believe you’re a werewolf.” Dash barked a laugh.

  Jazz burrowed into the cushy leather seat. “It’s a curse.” He looked up. “I don’t mean being a werewolf. That’s actually kind of cool. But sex or even romance with a werewolf is tricky. We’re aggressive and dominant, which is okay if you’re with another shifter, but with humans, it can be dangerous.” He made a rude noise. “And if you’re gay, it’s a big fat zero because my community believes there’s no such thing as a gay werewolf.”

  “Uh, don’t you and your brothers and miscellaneous same-sex couples prove them idiotic?”

  “Of course, but most weres believe we’re just aberrations.”

  “Yay for aberrations!”

  Jazz snorted.

  “What about your date tonight?” Dash gave him a side-eyed glance.

  Jazz stared at Dash. What the hell, he knows anyway. “The truth is, the Harker and Marketo Packs, the big cheeses in this territory, don’t have a born alpha in their packs who wants to be leader. In fact, my father and my brother Winter are both Marketos, but neither wants the job. So the alpha of the Marketo pack came up with a plan. If they can marry me to a Marketo, then they have their alpha.”

  “Your date tonight is a Marketo.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want to be alpha?”

  “I don’t know.” He turned to Dash. “I don’t think so. I just—I’m pretty confused about who I am and what I want. This whole wizard business doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Do you think there are more like me, or am I some kind of freak?” Man, that would be just his style. Solid gold weirdo.

  “No idea. Like I said, I never knew there were wolves.”
Dash made a face. “I don’t believe many of my kind know about your kind, or I would’ve heard something, at least rumors.”

  “But it looks like your kind is my kind or vice versa or something.”

  “Guess so.”

  “Why’d you kiss me?”

  Dash whipped his head around to look at Jazz straight on. “Felt like it.”

  “I’m a werewolf. I could eat you.”

  “Be my guest.” Dash stared directly at Jazz.

  Jazz snorted, then frowned. “I’m not kidding. Alpha wolves can be violent, and you’re pretty breakable.”

  Dash smiled. “Don’t bet on it, Fuzz Face. I’m a mage. I could turn you into a mouse.”

  Whoa. “Seriously?”

  “Pretty much, yeah. Although you’re also a mage, so you could fight back—if you knew how.”

  Jazz sat suspended, lost in the solar system of Dash’s eyes.

  Knock, knock, knock. The sharp rapping on the glass of the car window made Jazz gasp. Dash looked equally surprised.

  Jazz turned and came face-to-face with Carla, who was pressing her nose against the glass. “What the effing hell are you two doing sitting in the car? We’ve got work to do!” she yelled.

  Jazz held up a finger. “Be right out.” He turned to Dash and whispered, “How much can we tell her?”

  “We better think about it. Be careful.”

  Jazz turned back and opened the door. “Hey, sorry.”

  “What the hell are you two up to? Don’t you know what Khadija discovered?”

  He took a breath. “Yeah, we both do. That’s what we were just investigating. We found out what the evidence is.”

  “Holy crap! What?”

  Jazz got out and closed the door, hearing Dash slam the driver’s door behind him. “Let’s go find Dij and BeBop so we can tell everyone at the same time.”

  For a second, she looked kind of hurt.

  He wrapped an arm around her neck and said close to her ear, “I want to talk just with you, but we don’t have much time. We need to get on this.”

  “Got it. Let’s go.” She took off with that long stride, making Jazz and Dash walk fast to keep up. After a couple of quick elevator rides with other people, they barged into the lunchroom, where only a handful of employees still hung out over food or coffee. The lunch lines were shut down, and the staff was cleaning in prep for the light dinner the company provided to the late workers.

  Khadija and BeBop, both nursing cups of something, looked up anxiously. Carla rushed to them.

  Jazz glanced at Dash and tried to think more about his family being in danger than the feel of Dash’s incredible lips on his. He pulled out a chair and sat. Okay, choose your words carefully.

  BeBop looked between them. “What’s up?”

  Jazz took the lead. “When Dij told me that Evenride was here with the evidence, I knew I had to get up there and figure out what to do, quick. I didn’t know she’d already told Dash, but he had the same idea. So we met up on the sixty-second floor… and saw the evidence.”

  “How?” Carla asked.

  “Through Jazz’s contact in the department,” Dash said. “We learned that Evenride has some grainy, weird pictures of people wearing fur, and he’s claiming that these photos are a bunch of devil worshippers who are trying to be—are you ready for this?—werewolves. And furthermore, he claims these people are Jazz’s relatives.”

  Carla stared at Jazz with wide, dark eyes. “Werewolves! Oh God, Jazz. I’m sorry. No wonder you’re upset.”

  Jazz gave her a grin. “Given your taste in movies, I thought you might like me better if I were a werewolf.”

  She smiled back, and a couple of the knots in his stomach loosened.

  Dij gazed at Jazz. “You’ve seen these photos?”

  Jazz couldn’t keep from looking at Dash.

  Dash shook his head. “We just heard about them.”

  Carla frowned. “Nobody with a brain’s gonna believe this crap.”

  Dij raised a finger. “Trust me when I say that people are often fearful of anything different. It’s surprising what they will believe.”

  “Yeah, I get that, but how can this really hurt the Vanessens? In the dictionary where it says rich and powerful, it’s got their picture.”

  Crap. He couldn’t exactly say a bunch of bloodthirsty werewolves might attack his family if this crap became known.

  Dash came to the rescue again. “It’s hard to know who’s really behind this and what bigger plans they’ve got.”

  Carla nodded. “So we’ve got to get those pictures.”

  BeBop shook his head. “Nah. Those things can go viral before we figure out a way to attack Evenride in an alley.”

  “Or pick his pocket,” Carla said. “Dij figured you’d know how to do that.”

  BeBop lifted a brow. “You’re a wise woman, Ms. Hafeez.”

  They all laughed.

  “Look,” Dash said, “maybe we can cut this short. Jazz and I haven’t done any real work today, plus I’ve got to get him home in time for his date.”

  “Date?” BeBop squeaked.

  Carla quirked her lips. “Yeah. Some weirdass relatives are trying to fix him up so he can take over the family business.”

  “What?” BeBop just looked confused.

  “It’s a long story.” Her eyes widened. “Hey, why don’t you two come and spend the night at my place—also known as the governor’s mansion—with me and Dash? Bet if you put it that way, your fam will let you come.”

  BeBop leaned back on his chair. “That could work. Good thinking.”

  Dij gave a little smile. “Yes, perhaps it would.”

  “Cool. Let’s talk to them. If you don’t want to go home first, Dash and I have stuff you can sleep in.”

  Dash nodded. “Work that out. Meanwhile, Jazz and I are gonna get fired from positions we don’t even get paid for if we don’t show up soon. Tonight, while he’s fending off some arranged marriage, we can figure out what to do next.”

  Gods, don’t remind me.

  Carla turned to Jazz. “If this meetup tonight is total crap, text me. I’ll call you and say my aardvark just died, or something, and you have to come and console me.”

  Jazz laughed. “I’ll just text A for aardvark.”

  “Deal!”

  DASH STEPPED into a side hall and grabbed his phone. It was always better to be preemptive. He dialed.

  “What the hell is going on?” Lysandra’s voice snapped.

  “I had a chance to see what this so-called evidence is against Vanessen, so I took it.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just some grainy photos of furry creatures like wolves or something. I guess they’re digging up the old werewolf myths, claiming Vanessen and his family are devil- worshipping fuzz faces. Seriously. That’s all I saw. I had to get out of there before I got caught.”

  “They’re actually thinking they can go someplace with that sci-fi story?” Oh, she sounded convincingly outraged.

  “I guess so. Maybe they have more.”

  “You kicked up a lot of energy finding that out.”

  “I guess so. But don’t worry. I haven’t come across anyone with power at Vanessen except Jazz. Oh, and there’s another intern who has an unusual vibe, but she’s no mage.”

  “Worrisome?”

  “No. She may not even know it.” He breathed. “Sorry. I need to get back to work.”

  She laughed her melodious chuckle. “My little working boy. Keep me apprised.”

  “Of course.” He hung up and waited a few seconds for his hands to stop shaking.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  JAZZ WIPED his face where he’d just run a perfunctory razor over it and slid his fingertips through his too-long hair. He was of two minds. One piece really wanted to talk to his family about himself. Who and what he was. Wish I knew that myself. Another part wanted to get to dinner without being even later. He needed to know what this whole pack alpha business was about. What the stakes w
ere.

  Then there was Dash. The ride home had been tense—not epic, but still uncomfortable. They didn’t talk about Jazz’s date much, but he still felt like a cheater. The kiss had changed things besides the fit of Jazz’s jeans.

  I’ve gotta do this. I said I would.

  He walked toward the staircase, but his brain kept spinning. How much should he tell his family? How much could he tell his friends?

  Voices and laughter came from the living room. He’d have liked to stay home and laugh with them. Still, all the shit going down made him feel different, separate. They were wolves and humans. He wasn’t one of them.

  “Jazz?” He heard his mother’s voice.

  He stuck his head into the big cozy room. “Hi. I’m late. Gotta go.”

  She frowned. “Is this your dinner with the Marketo boy?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Her lips tightened, but Pop-Pop said, “Have a fun evening, Jazz. I’m sure you’ll discover you have things in common.”

  “I really need to talk to all of you, but I better get going or I’ll be late.”

  “Is there something we should know, Jazz?” Lindsey asked.

  He sighed. “About a million things, but I don’t have the time to get into it right now. I’ll see you later, or tomorrow. Love you.”

  “We love you too, Jazz,” his mom said.

  That was the best.

  WYN WAS being a charming date. First, he’d chosen a great restaurant. It was a steak house, and simply inhaling the smells set Jazz’s wolf’s hunger on edge. Wyn had managed to cop a very private booth in the back. Plus, he looked good. Very good, actually. He’d cleaned up real nice, and his jeans and linen sports coat looked lit, while his long red hair drew Jazz’s eyes to his pretty face.

  Right. His pretty lying face. Interesting. Wyn smelled like deceit, but it wasn’t the kind that made Jazz think the other were would do anything to hurt him. It was like Khadija. Secrets upon secrets. And one of those secrets was how much power Wyn actually had. He could disguise himself, and that took some serious wolf balls. But not much could hide completely from Jazz’s sense of smell.

  Wyn extended his glass of beer, and Jazz offered up his iced tea. “To us,” Wyn said.