Virtue: A Knight World Novel (Fireborn Wolves Book 2)

by Genevieve Jack

  “Someone broke into the vault at Bojingles Fae Hospital and stole fire lily juice. There was nothing on any of the internal security recordings, but when the invisible thief was leaving the hospital, a device outside the entrance caught her moonlit reflection in the glass door to the building. A specialist on Silas’s team blew it up and refined the image. It was Nickelova.”

  “Fire lily juice?” The juice of the fire lily could only be collected and administered by the fae, but it could cure a wide range of injuries and illnesses in supernatural beings. “She’s still trying to heal Alex.”

  “That’s what Silas thinks too,” Laina said. “I nearly bit Alex’s abdomen in two. He was bleeding out. I have no idea how she’s kept him alive so long, but what else would she be doing with it?”

  “Does Silas have any idea where she is now?”

  “That’s where Soleil comes in. One of her patrons was asking around about supernatural healers last night. Could be a coincidence, but…”

  “It could be someone helping her,” he finished.

  “We all know if she is anywhere near Carlton City, she’ll target my wedding. Pack security is on high alert. And if she succeeds in healing Alex, the entire pack is at risk.”

  He licked his lips. “I’ll be there and I’ll make sure I’m ready for anything.”

  Once they said their good-byes, Jason walked the periphery of his condo, ensuring every door and window was locked. Nickelova was one fish he hoped would get away for good. Far, far away. He hadn’t known she was a dragon fae when he slept with her. Hell, he hadn’t known her at all. They’d met at a bar and he’d forgotten her first name almost immediately after they screwed. But she played him for a fool. She’d been helping Fireborn pack’s deadliest enemy, Alex Ravien Bloodright, a rogue wolf whose goal was to kill Silas and gain control of the Lycanthropic Society. Nickelova had used Jason for information, to lure Silas out of hiding.

  Jason rubbed his chest, a wave of guilt dragging him under again. He should have been more careful. He should have known Nickelova was supernatural. His vice had almost been his pack’s undoing.

  He finished off the bottle of wine, too antsy to work, and only flopped onto his bed when the hour and the alcohol got the best of him. “A service to the pack,” he mumbled as he drifted off. “The cursed prince.” He fell asleep, fully clothed, the empty wine bottle still in his hand.

  Chapter 2

  The blissful nothingness of sleep was something Jason only appreciated when it was gone, shattered by the blare of his phone’s ringtone. He forced one eye open, blinking rapidly against the lure of sleep. 4:30 a.m. Who the hell was ringing him at this hour?

  His hand slapped clumsily at the phone, knocking the empty wine bottle he’d been sleeping with to the floor. It made a hollow sound as it rolled across the hardwood and clinked into the wall. Heavy with sleep paralysis, he fumbled with the device, desperate to stop the ringing. Somehow he managed to tap the screen and manipulate it close enough to his ear to be effective.

  “Mr. Flynn? It’s the night doorman. I have a Teresa in the lobby for you.”

  Teresa. Who the hell was Teresa? “Uh, who?”

  “Redhead,” the doorman whispered.

  “Oh. From the gatehouse. Send her up.”

  Jason rolled out of bed and visited the bathroom for some last minute primping. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, swished some mouthwash to combat morning breath, and dripped Visine into his green eyes to get the red out. Two spritzes of an enchanted cologne he’d brought back from Monaco and he was ready for action. The witch who’d made it for him said it enhanced attraction. By all accounts, based on previous experience, he’d gotten what he paid for.

  When the knock came, he was already at the door. She was still wearing her Bachman Building uniform, her smile taking up more than its share of real estate on her face. He invited her in and offered her a drink.

  “Wine,” she said. “Whatever you have that’s good.”

  “Make yourself at home.” He drifted to the bar, leaving her standing awkwardly in the center of the room. He’d finished off the white wine. He selected a bottle of red, Pinot Noir, and reached for the corkscrew.

  “Do you live here full-time?” Teresa asked, staring at the oatmeal couch, lips parted slightly.

  He was surprised by the question. “Last time I checked. Why?”

  She turned in a circle. “But, I mean, um, did you move in recently?”

  Oh, she was commenting on the décor or lack of it. “Warm minimalism,” he said. He finished pouring and handed her the glass of red wine.

  “Huh?”

  “The design. Clean lines. Simple décor. It’s supposed to make you feel like you are the most important and interesting thing in the room.” He sipped his own wine. “I think it’s working. You’re clearly the most beautiful thing within these walls.”

  Her lips twitched, a blush creeping from beneath her collar. “Thank you.”

  “Come, darling, sit. You’ve been on your feet all night.” He lowered himself onto the sofa and held out his hand. She glanced from her glass to the furniture, seemingly uncomfortable with drinking red wine on white upholstery. She abandoned the drink on the mantle and joined him, perching on the edge of the middle cushion.

  “I never do this. I’m probably breaking some kind of rule coming up here,” she said.

  “No one in this building will say a word to you. I’ll see to that.” With nothing but empathy in his eyes, he rested an ankle on one knee, calculating how long he’d have to play with the mouse before the wolf could have his meal. “Now, tell me about yourself. What’s an exquisite creature such as you doing working in the gatehouse? It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re overqualified for the position.”

  She paused for a moment, lips parted, eyes staring as if she’d been frozen in place.

  “Teresa? Are you all right?” He rested a hand on her shoulder.

  She buried her face in her hands.

  “Teresa?”

  The girl raised her head and all kinds of freaky hit the walls. Her eyes were white. Solid white and glowing like 60-watt incandescents.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Don’t concern yourself, Jay, or should I call you Jason? It’s so hard to know what’s appropriate. You’ve had so many identities.”

  He’d know that voice anywhere. Lowering his chin, he narrowed his eyes at Teresa’s possessed body. “Nickelova?”

  “Call me Nickie.” Teresa’s head rotated on her neck, listing back and around while the redhead’s features changed, morphing into those of a svelte woman with a sleek platinum bob. A wicked smile broke out across full red lips. “Miss me?”

  “What are you doing here?” The words came out in an anxious slur.

  She leaned toward him, catching the glass of wine as it fell from his shaking hand and placing it on the coffee table. Her face came close enough to his that he could feel her breath on his lips.

  Although he pressed into the back of the couch in an effort to put distance between them, his body reacted to her nearness. He remembered how she looked, spread out before him on the bed or riding his cock like a jockey. He’d had her so many ways before discovering who or what she was and he’d loved every single second of it. Sex with Nickie was like shooting heroin; it went straight to your pleasure center. Magically delicious.

  “Is this for me?” she asked, palming him through his jeans.

  “Don’t touch me.” He swallowed, hard. “I should kill you after what you did to us.”

  “But you won’t.” She shrugged. “And just so you know, even if you did you’d be murdering the redhead whose body I’m possessing, not me.” She snorted. “Besides, I didn’t do anything to your family. That was Alex.” She massaged him through his pants, cupping and sliding her hand in a way that sent electric pulses of pleasure through his body.

  He wanted to stop her. She repulsed him. But his vice needed to be fed, and Nickie understood just how to administer the d
ose of medicine he needed. It was all he could do not to touch her, not to invite more of what she was handing out. There was no way he could force himself to push her away.

  “Why are you here?” Jason murmured.

  “We had something, Jason. Don’t deny it. You felt our connection. You feel it now.” She unzipped his pants and palmed his cock.

  “Stop,” he murmured.

  “I need your help. Alex can no longer follow through on his end of the bargain. But you and I together? We’d be unstoppable. You could do what Alex couldn’t. I need you to join me.”

  “No.”

  She stroked him harder. “The supernatural community has spent far too long denying who they are. With common leadership, a wolf and a dragon as king and queen, we could change everything. We wouldn’t have to tiptoe around humans anymore. We’d be free.”

  “Do you hear how crazy that sounds? The supernatural communities have different traditions, different needs. They need different leaders. Plus, it’s the law of the goddess that we don’t interfere with humans.” Jason was sweating now, leaning back against the couch as she worked his cock. He should push her away. He should run for his bedroom, lock himself inside. But he couldn’t. His vice held the keys and was the only one driving.

  “That’s how things are, but if we work together, it can be different. We can make it better.”

  He groaned as her hands twisted and tugged in perfect rhythm. Teetering on the edge of an orgasm, Jason suppressed the self-loathing that threatened to dull the edge. He went emotionally numb, thrusting rhythmically against her hands. He needed this. He’d consider the consequences later.

  “Remember,” she whispered in his ear as she worked his cock. A map appeared in his mind, unraveling like a flag. There was a road, a river, and a space between two mountains. He didn’t recognize the place but a feeling accompanied the planted thought. A feeling that he could find the location if he tried. “Come to me, Jason. I’ll give you more of this. All that you can handle. Deny me, and pay the price.”

  For some reason, he opened his eyes, although the last thing he wanted was to see what was happening. On the contrary, he wanted to hide from reality, pretend it was someone else between his legs. But she met his gaze as she lowered her head to wrap her lips around him. That’s when the wolf took over. Jason grabbed the sides of Nickie’s head and fucked her mouth in earnest, pounding the back of her throat until his orgasm sent pulsing shocks that kicked through his body again and again. He tipped his head back, groaning at the ceiling.

  When his wolf finally receded, his self-loathing was enough to make him pull away like he’d been burned, tears welling in his eyes.

  Her lips peeled back from her teeth. “Oh, don’t bother pulling away now, Jason. The deed’s been done. You just signed a contract with your body, activated a curse—a little something to remember me by. From this day forward, every time you have sex, the act will bind you to me. It will give me power over you. I’ve planted how to find me in your brain. Don’t try to tell anyone else; it won’t work out well for you. You can either come to me of your own free will or wait until your vice makes you my robot. Either way, I’ll see you soon.”

  “No. No, Nickie, don’t do this.”

  But Nickie was gone. The redhead was back, on her knees in front of his crotch, looking utterly disgusted with herself.

  Jason shivered and collected himself, the practiced smile snapping back into place. “Teresa,” he drawled. “I can honestly say this has been a first for me.” He tucked, straightened, and zipped.

  The girl looked confused. She glanced at her drink as if he might have drugged her, but it was across the room where she’d left it on the mantle. She’d never even taken a sip.

  “Thank you for a wonderful evening, er, morning.” He helped her from the floor. “I’d love to make a day of it, but I have work. You understand.”

  She nodded slowly, stopping halfway to the door. “What happened? I can’t remember.”

  He paused and took her hand. “Just two people taking solace from an unforgiving world in the safety of each other’s arms. We broke through the daily loneliness, darling, connected on a spiritual level. I admit, I didn’t think we were ready to take this step, but you were so insistent.”

  Even though he felt like an accomplice to a crime, he opened the door and showed her out. “I’ll call you.”

  She smiled and gave him a half wave. “Bye.”

  As he closed the door, a soul-shaking tremble rumbled from deep within him. He staggered to the shower and turned the water on as hot as it would go. The soap wasn’t strong enough but it would have to do. He scrubbed in the scalding heat, enduring the self-inflicted punishment he deserved.

  He needed help. But who could he trust? If he told Silas about what happened, he might find himself without a head. Or, more likely, without a pack. But if he told no one, Nickie would use his vice to make him her slave. Because even as he struggled to wash all remnants of her from his body, a tiny voice inside his head was already whispering about how much he’d enjoyed her and how incredible it would be to have her again.

  Chapter 3

  Jason arrived in Red Grove that night feeling twitchy and uneasy. It didn’t help that the tiny town was home to a cemetery that stretched on for miles, the army of headstones ending at the creepy Victorian home of demigoddess witch, Grateful Knight. No way did he want to run into her or her caretaker husband. The witch was a friend of Silas’s, but Jason always found her eerily unsettling.

  Per Laina’s instructions, he turned down a winding road that led deep into the woods and parked near the quaint cabin by the lake where Kyle and Laina now lived. He could see why his sister wanted to get married here; the place was untarnished and magical. The early spring blossoms on the trees above shed petals that swirled overhead and weighed the air with a fantastical whimsy.

  “Welcome. You must be Jason,” a melodious voice said. He scented her before he saw her, his wolf nose detecting a luscious concoction of mango and vanilla with a hint of spice on the breeze. When he divined the source, he was not disappointed. She was tall, willowy, and dressed in a flowing pink robe that matched the blush of the petals that circled her perfectly coifed caramel-colored hair. Standing beside the twisting branches of an oak tree, she smiled at him, and the effect was like something out of a dream. Jason’s wolf responded so fast and hard his legs stopped working. He froze, staring at her dumbly.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, rushing forward to take his arm.

  Her eyes were violet, a rare color he thought must actually be blue in the right light. But it was the innocence in those eyes and the soft, graceful way she touched his shoulder that unsettled him the most. His usually suave and practiced demeanor was nowhere to be found. He struggled to find his voice.

  “I’m here for the rehearsal,” Jason said quietly.

  The woman nodded. “Of course you are.” Removing one of the white flower leis that hung from the nook of her elbow, she lowered it around his neck. “I’m Selene. I’m an acolyte working with Artemis on your sister’s wedding. I don’t believe we’ve ever formally met.”

  “No,” he said. He would have remembered meeting her. For forever and a day.

  “I’m honored to help today. I’ll show you back to where the others are waiting and where the ceremony will take place tomorrow.

  “Am I late?” he asked.

  “No. We are still waiting for the groom’s brother to arrive.”

  Thank the goddess.

  “Wait… Did you say you’re an acolyte?” he asked. “You’re pursuing the werewolf priesthood?” Jason’s face tightened and he realized too late that he was making a face like he’d smelled something bad. Her eyebrows drew together and her gaze dropped to the forest floor.

  “Yes,” she said curtly. “If you’ll follow me, the others are this way.” She pointed a hand toward a trail leading into the trees. He followed her, walking side by side on the narrow path in silence. Had he offended
her?

  “I’m sorry for the reaction,” Jason finally said. “To you being an acolyte. That was rude of me. I haven’t been myself today. This is all… harder than I expected.” Goddess, he wanted to pull the bow at her waist and slip that robe off her shoulders. He furtively watched the silk tug against her nipple as she walked.

  “It’s normal to feel some anxiety about your sister getting married. You may have feelings of pressure to marry yourself or fear that you will never find a mate.”

  No, Jason thought, neither of those things.

  “Think of it like this, you’re not losing a sister, you’re gaining a brother,” she continued. “The scrolls say that a wedding of any within the pack is a reminder of our unity as a species. We are stronger when we work as one.”

  Her words hit him like a bucket of ice water. “The scrolls?” He laughed cynically.

  “You’re not a fan of our holy texts?”

  “No offense, but I find it hard to believe that a goddess loved wolves so much that she turned twelve of them into men, only to curse them to return to their true form for three nights a month during the full moon. Oh, and while she was at it, further cursed them with individual vices that rule their lives almost as much as the turning into an animal once a month thing does.” He laughed acerbically. “If there is truly a goddess, she’s a bitch.”

  Selene balked, her jaw dropping. “The goddess did not curse us,” she said. “It was a blessing. She allowed us to retain an echo of our animal selves while inheriting a higher consciousness. Unlike our animal ancestors, werewolves have free will—we can choose. Our Primary ancestors were as close to wolves as humans have ever been and powerful enough to birth our entire race.”

  Jason snorted. Why were all the beautiful ones crazy? “Or a Homo sapien got it on with a wolf and we evolved. Seems more likely.”

  “Why would that be more likely?”

  Because I don’t feel like a person with higher consciousness or free will, he thought. I feel like an exhausted werewolf orphan who has to live a lie just to survive. “I just don’t believe the scrolls are anything more than stories. They’re fiction.”