Great. For all he knew, it had followed Marley home. And that left him with only one job here today. “Just one?”
“All I saw.”
“What exactly did it look like?”
“Smelled like sulfur. It was a black blur and it ran by too fast for me to see. It growled.”
He would have to get Gillian the hell out of here with a distraction. He needed Kill. The man could manipulate minds, so it was either that or a violent breakout.
Brother Wolf would prefer the latter for sure. But Rifter would have his head. And still, they were running out of time for any option to remain viable.
“There’s a side door right here,” Lynn murmured. “If your friend opens it from the outside, you can walk out.”
“And leave you here?”
“I help,” Lynn said.
“You don’t want peace?”
“I’d rather give it to them.” It reached out and ran a hand over Gillian’s hair and the wolf murmured something, smiled. “I’ll pull the alarm. You go.”
Jinx owed Lynn more, but he couldn’t force her to cross over. He waited for the alarm to blare and the mass confusion that followed.
Gillian was crumpled in his arms and she remained that way until they reached the Dire mansion.
Chapter 4
After Vice left, Rogue couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything. He paced the floor, realizing he might never want to lie down again ever, and especially not on that damned bed.
First order of business—burn the bed. Well, once the rest of the Dires knew he was up and functioning because they’d definitely notice a bonfire in the middle of the backyard.
Still, he turned it on its side, because he could. It felt so damned good to actually move, to stretch, to have total fucking control of himself again.
He glanced down at the healing wounds on his arms and chest, cursed the mare and rolled the stiffness from his neck. His Brother Wolf was slowing waking as well. When that wolf wanted out, Rogue wouldn’t be able to control him. It was almost like being a newly shifted wolf—he would have to relearn the controls, until Brother Wolf was satiated and well run.
He stripped, began to pad toward the shower when he stopped cold.
Jinx was coming—he was close—and he was bringing trouble with him. Rogue’s twin sense was coming back strong, which meant Jinx was feeling him as well. He was also pretty sure that Vice would tell Jinx that he’d woken up, but he couldn’t blame the Dire for that.
Vice would’ve done the same for him if the roles were reversed. And it made things easier, because what was Rogue supposed to do, ring Jinx up and say, “Hey brother, I’m back and you’ve really fucked up big-time.”
So yeah, Rogue was awake and already keeping more secrets than one wolf should ever have to. There would be a price to pay for all of this, including not going to Rifter straightaway, but for the moment, Rogue reveled in simply moving forward, in the feeling of the shower prickling his skin—he’d taken three—and watching the deep scratches from the mare slowly heal up.
What wouldn’t go away were the markings on the left side of his face. Those had come out because of Seb’s spell and they would be a party favor that would keep on giving, linking him to hell. He had no idea what those ramifications were, but wasn’t anxious to find out. He’d sprinkled salt around his windowsills already as a precautionary measure.
After half an hour, he knew Jinx was closer to the house and he stepped out, dripping on the floor. He used his hand to squeegee the water out of his hair. No one had cut it while he was sleeping and he needed a haircut, never liked wearing it this long.
He grabbed a pair of scissors and began to chop. Maybe he should wait until he could get a professional to do so, or maybe he should just start fresh. Completely, totally new.
He hacked until his hair was an inch from his scalp, and then he grabbed the buzzers and went to work. After he’d cueballed himself, he noted that the markings were all along his skull as well. “Might as well not try to hide it.”
It fit with the biker mode they had going on. Made his eyes darker.
If anything, maybe the spirits would stay away from him when they saw he’d been marked by hell.
* * *
The deadhead drove as Jinx kept checking Gillian’s breathing, her pulse—which was racing—until Jez asked, “Are we just storming the mansion or are you calling ahead, wolf?”
Shit. He pulled his phone from his pocket, keeping one hand on Gillian and dialed Gwen. The new queen had been most kind to him, calling to check on him. He was sure she wasn’t doing it behind Rifter’s back, but Gwen definitely had a mind of her own.
“Jinx, what’s wrong?” she asked without saying hello.
“I’m bringing a Dire wolf in.”
“Who’s hurt?” she demanded.
“No one you know. It’s a full female Dire.”
There was a long silence and then, “I’ll open the garage for you. Come right into the clinic.”
She hung up and Jinx directed Jez to park in the garage in between the Hummers and the Harleys and various other sports cars and classics. He moved quickly, with Gillian in his arms and Jez trailing behind him until he saw Gwen waiting in the hallway. She motioned for him to follow her and he did, placing Gillian gently down on the stretcher before backing away to give Gwen room to work.
But for a long moment, Gwen simply stared down at her.
“She’s full Dire,” she finally breathed.
“Yes. She was in a psych ward.”
“So she has no idea what she is?” she asked as she turned her full attention back to Gillian. “She’s pretty.”
Jinx agreed, watched Gwen put two fingers on Gillian’s wrist as she placed the stethoscope on Gillian’s chest under her T-shirt. Jinx heard his growl, low, warning, before he could stop it.
Gwen stilled and stared at Jinx, her canines elongated.
“Jinx, you’ve got to back off and let Gwen check her. She’s not hurting her,” Jez said and when Jinx looked at the vampire, his fangs had come down too.
“Jinx is feeling . . . protective,” Jez told Gwen and she stared between Jinx and Gillian. The bond was palpable, at least to Jinx and from the look on her face, she felt it too.
She looked back at the vampire, who simply smiled.
Christ. He stared at the floor, took a deep breath and tamped down that reaction because what the fuck? “Sorry,” he mumbled after a long, tense moment and Gwen went back to her exam.
“Do you know if she’s been drugged like this for five years running?” she asked.
“I’m assuming so, but maybe not as heavily. If they have her birthday listed correctly, she’s due for her first shift in three months.” Jinx went for the intercom. “Maybe Stray can look into her records.”
“That’s a good idea,” Gwen said. “Because I have to know how bad her withdrawal’s going to be.”
Jinx put his finger on the button but he hadn’t pressed it yet. Gwen went over to him and pressed, called up to Stray. “Come to the basement and bring your laptop. Stat.”
Stray gave a sharp “Will do,” and she added, “Bring Killian.”
Jinx looked at her with a furrowed brow.
“Gillian might be from the Greenland pack,” she offered.
“Right. They might know her.” His entire body tensed at the thought of other Dires coming down here, coming near Gillian. And it had to have shown, because Gwen asked, “Are you going to be able to hold it together?”
“Of course he can,” Jez said. “What? I have impeccable hearing. It’s not just you wolves.”
Gwen gave Jinx a lingering look and then went back to Gillian. She ran some IVs, explaining to Jinx, who’d been a medic in the Army, what each one was—he’d know what they’d do. It was nothing he wouldn’t have done for any of the Dires, nothing that could hurt Gillian. Rather, this could push the drugs out of her system, but not so fast as to cause a reaction.
It dawned on him then. “You
think her body’s addicted to the drugs?”
“I don’t know. Can wolves get addicted? Don’t forget, this is all preshift,” she said. “I mean, our metabolisms are really too fast for drugs to stay in long, but this kind of exposure, day in and day out . . .”
“She ran away for days at a time. And she always came back. Wouldn’t she have gone through withdrawals then?”
“Maybe she was. Or maybe the wolf was urging her on. I can’t be sure, Jinx. But I’ll do everything to make sure she’s comfortable,” Gwen promised and Jinx believed her.
He heard Jez at the door talking to Killian and Stray, and he could make out the bare-bones conversation that consisted of If you get close to her, Jinx will flay you.
Message received, because Stray and Kill both gave him a warm greeting but stayed by his side when looking at Gillian.
“Do you recognize her?” Jinx asked.
“She’s got to be from the Greenland pack but I don’t recognize anything about her,” Stray said tightly. “Then again, if she’s not immortal, I might not ever have known her.”
They both knew Stray wouldn’t have known her at all, the way he’d been caged and isolated by his family in Greenland. There was no love lost for that pack from anyone in this household.
Kill walked to the end of the table and uncovered Gillian’s feet. Gently, he lifted the left and checked the heel, nodded as though he’d found what he expected. “There’s a marking here. A brand given at birth to everyone born to the Greenland pack, for tracking purposes.”
Stray went to look at his own heel but Kill said quietly, “You weren’t given one. It’s a good thing, brother.”
Stray’s brow furrowed. “I guess it is.”
Kill recovered Gillian’s feet. “She looks like Arrow’s family,” Kill said decisively. “Are her eyes blue? Aqua?”
“Yes,” Jinx confirmed.
“That’s their signature. Never seen a color quite like it before. Arrow’s one of the nobility—their family’s been running the pack since forever. But this doesn’t make sense. She’d have been too young for any of them to detect powers. No prophecy on her. Why would they let her go like that?”
“Stolen?” Jinx suggested.
“Could’ve been,” Stray muttered. He had his laptop open and went to the corner where Gwen had a small desk set up. “Let me get on her records.”
Jinx stroked the hair from Gillian’s face. Gwen had given a quick sponge bath to the unconscious Dire, so now her golden skin seemed to glimmer under the lights. She’d also brushed Gillian’s hair so it shone with health. But despite how healthy she looked, this would still be a rough road for her.
“I’ve got to go,” Jinx told Gwen.
“Rifter’s on his way,” she started but he shook his head. This was too hard—leaving her—without seeing his king again. He wasn’t ready, wasn’t accepted back and none of this was right.
“Just take care of her. And keep me up-to-date.”
“I will, Jinx.” She turned to the vampire. “You take good care of him or I’ll kill you myself.”
“Impossible, but point taken,” Jez said dryly.
Chapter 5
The truck was halfway down the driveway when Jinx slammed out of the moving vehicle, ignoring Jez’s cursing. He was halfway across the yard in the dusk at record speed until he stood directly in front of his brother.
“You’re not a fucking ghost, are you?” he breathed and Rogue shook his head, which was shaved and covered in markings on the left side of his skull and cheek. He wore a black wife beater and old jeans and he looked nothing like the wolf he’d grown up with.
Everything about Rogue had changed, and Jinx didn’t know how he’d failed to notice the transformation over the past six months.
Because you didn’t want to.
“I’m very much alive,” Rogue said finally, his voice a rasp.
“Vice said . . . he said you’d call. But you didn’t.”
Rogue didn’t look surprised. “No, I didn’t.”
“I didn’t feel you,” Jinx confessed.
“It took for you to be close to the house before you were on my radar,” Rogue told him. “Maybe it’ll never come back for you. Maybe it’s not meant to.”
“Right. Because I’d corrupt you and your gift.” Jinx didn’t mean to sound so bitter but Rogue was acting like he was a perfect goddamned stranger. Granted, he hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome wagon or raced over here when Vice filled him in, but he’d convinced himself that he was helping Rogue, keeping his secret until he was ready for his big reveal to King Rifter and the others.
But it wasn’t that at all. He was scared to see Rogue, and he still wasn’t exactly sure why. As he scanned his twin’s face, he noted no judgment in his expression, but it had to be there. Jinx judged himself too harshly to not believe another Dire would.
“I missed you, brother,” Rogue said quietly.
Jinx swallowed hard, wanted to reach out and touch the markings from hell on Rogue’s face and skull, wanted to tell his twin that everything would be all right, just the way Rogue had done for him a zillion times since childhood. But his throat tightened and his head spun. He simply nodded and Rogue’s brows furrowed.
He flashed back to the night he discovered Rogue and Rifter had been captured. He was supposed to be there, but he’d gotten held up at a haunting. If he’d been there . . .
“If you’d been there, you’d have been captured too. I’d never have wanted that.”
That twinsense had obviously come back for Rogue, but still not for Jinx. Or maybe Rogue was simply reading the guilt that Jinx was sure plastered his expression.
“You blame me,” Jinx said.
“You’re wrong.”
But he wasn’t—Jinx could see it in the man’s eyes. A lifetime of brotherly fuckups and now it came down to this. Rogue had always been the stronger one, the one who could manage to balance heaven and hell and everything in between, while Jinx only had to deal with the ghosts who were lonely or confused.
Rogue’s ability was always more dangerous and it had taken a toll on him. Jinx would never forgive himself for any of it, even though he never could’ve taken the wolf’s place.
“Jinx, please—”
“I’m just glad you were able to let us know what to do with the Dire ghost army.”
“I knew you’d figure it out.” Rogue’s voice was raspy and he looked pale. Jinx knew he needed to shift soon.
“Yeah, Brother Wolf is begging,” Rogue agreed. He couldn’t read minds but they’d always had that twin thing happening. “Ask the question you want to.”
“Did you know—about purgatory? Did you know before I opened it that it would happen?”
“Yes, I did.”
“You knew what I was going to do and you didn’t stop me?” Jinx growled—Rogue barely blinked. “Come on you fucker—fight!”
But Rogue wouldn’t, still frustratingly calm and collected, even after six months in literal hell. Jinx turned to leave, stopping when Rogue called, “Going back to your deadhead?”
“He’s not my deadhead,” Jinx said through gritted teeth.
Rogue snorted in response and Jinx was probably more pissed because he was going to see Jez. Because he refused to live in the mansion again and it had nothing to do with the fact that Rifter hadn’t invited him. No, he would not come back here.
He and Jez formed a semi-uneasy alliance. Neither would vacate the penthouse so they both stayed there. Jinx told himself it was more helpful to the humans that way, but he’d wanted to know more about Jez and the men. Needed to keep an eye on the deadhead, all the while knowing the vamp was doing the exact same thing to him.
“What else do you know that you’re not telling me?” Jinx called to him. This time, Rogue stopped, turned back until he and Jinx were back in punching distance.
“I know that some . . . things escaped.” He shuddered as he spoke the word things.
“And you know I need your help
to vanquish them.”
“You should stay away from me for now. I’m too vulnerable.”
“If you’re vulnerable, you should be with me,” Jinx argued.
“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way. I’m a liability to you.”
“So you’re never going to hunt again.”
“I didn’t say that. Let me worry about me and you worry about your shit. Apparently, you’re in pretty damned deep.”
Rogue didn’t say the “P” word, but it was for sure implied.
So this was great. Domestic issues. Oh, and purgatory. A nice mix. “Rogue . . . the others don’t know what happened with purgatory.”
“Yeah, I know. You, me, and Kate. And that vamp. I’ll tell you what, brother—you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”
“What’s your secret?” Jinx asked.
“I’m still in hell,” Rogue told him before he turned and walked back into the house.
* * *
Vice had been keeping himself busy with several Weres, because even though it wasn’t party night, he’d needed the stress relief. Besides, he needed to keep his mouth busy so he didn’t spit out, “Rogue’s awake,” by accident.
Besides, there was so much fucking going on inside the house, and he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t freaked the fuck out at the thought of Liam and the twins fighting tonight. He was spinning, his being pulled in several different directions had his hormones working overtime.
Liam had trained well—he was ready. Vice wasn’t sure he was, though. For the first time, he felt really damned old and he didn’t like it.
He’d forced himself not to go back out to the hole by the tree, to think of anything but Eydis, but he was distracted enough that he actually made the Weres in the room as unhorny as he was. They all sat there looking at each other and Vice wondered if he should break out the Scrabble or something.
Finally, he gave a long-suffering sigh and yanked the male toward him. The younger Were kissed him, straddled him, emboldened with the sudden attention and Vice grabbed the male’s hips and ground against him. Pheromones were flying around the room after several minutes of this, and with the female Were now kissing the back of his neck, he might be able to lose himself . . .
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