Her words seem to soothe her, despite my inability to respond in kind. I nudge her thigh to show I’m listening. Sometimes, all a woman wants is to know her words are heard and understood.
“I tried once to organize the unhappy males, get them to rally behind me so we could overthrow Hector together. He was a poor leader in other ways, too. But it didn’t work. Hector found out and beat me to a pulp—first, and last, time he ever hit me. Claimed he needed to show me my place. That’s when I discovered…”
My ears perk forward. Is she about to say what I think? Is she referring to when she learned how to partially shift?
“Well, let’s just say, I learned how to take care of myself after that.” Her hand tightens in my fur. “I never had to worry about him laying a hand on me in anger again.”
I quicken my pace, eager to arrive at her place so I can pursue this topic further in human form. It sounds like she discovered the ability to transform on her own, out of necessity. Is it only a question of wanting it badly enough? Being pushed into a dangerous situation? Or is it about focus? Could there be a ritual involved, like with magic?
Magdelena lengthens her stride to keep up. “My, you seem in a hurry all of a sudden. We’ll turn up ahead, at the lamppost. The entrance is off the street.”
I note the location, lifting my head when the wind changes, bringing the scent of Weres to me. I hesitate, slowing to sift through all the smells and what they mean. She did say she lives on a street with other packmates.
“What’s wrong, Jon? We’re here, let’s get inside and warm up.”
I stop and she walks ahead, sure of herself and her surroundings. I issue a low growl to get her attention. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. She halts at the mouth of the narrow side street. “The door is back here, come on,” she says, motioning with her head. Concern fills her eyes as I wait, poised for action. Paranoid or not, something feels off.
Maybe it’s your mind’s way of making sure you don’t have to sleep with her.
Geez, that’s a dumb thought. Wish I could tell my head to shut up.
“Jon?” Magda asks, stepping toward me. A man reeking of werewolf musk steps out from the alley and grabs her arm, pulling her into shadows the rising sun hasn’t had a chance to scatter.
I bolt forward, hackles raised, ready for retaliation. I round the corner and slam to a halt, seeing Magdelena surrounded by four very angry Weres.
They’re all bigger than the slight woman, and all look tired, like they’ve been waiting a long time for her to arrive. The men are dressed in dark colors, as if they expected to take her by surprise in the night. I’ve not met three of them, but one familiar face stands out—Manny, the bartender from Lupine Luna.
Magda tears her arm from the man’s grasp. “What the hell is this all about?” She turns to the bartender. “Manny?”
“We know you’re behind the killings, Magdelena,” Manny says, stepping forward to confront the smaller woman. “Another body was recently discovered—beaten to death in her home—right around the time you left with your pretty wolf-boy for a late night run.”
Wolf-boy? Are they referring to me? I step closer and growl, the sound unmistakable in the quiet alley.
“It wasn’t us! I swear it. We were tracking down the real killer. It was an hombre gato. We killed him in the subway, just a little while ago.”
One of the others steps closer, menace in his face and voice. “An hombre gato? Now you’re making shit up. They haven’t been around in hundreds of years.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” The angry woman’s voice sounds deadly.
Manny breaks in, his voice heated. “This is bullshit. Where’s the body? If you killed it, I want proof. Take us to it.”
The unsure alpha’s composure slips for a second, and the heated Weres see it, like sharks picking up a drop of blood in the water. “It turned to dust when we killed it. There is no proof.”
Manny’s laughter spills into the deserted side street. “Isn’t that convenient? Or it’s just another one of your lies.”
“Lies?” Magda draws herself up, her slight frame seeming to expand as she stares them down one-by-one. “What lies have I told in the past?” She steps closer to the one who doubted Cat Dude was real. “Did your wife lie when Hector took her against her will? Do you lie to yourself every day when you look in the mirror and think you are the one who stopped her torment?”
She turns toward the next man, this one younger and slimmer. “Or did your sister lie, Diego, when she cried rape?” She pivots to face the last man I’d not met, the youngest of the four. “Orlando, did you lie when you said you saw Hector abuse your mother after your father died?”
While she’s talking, her body has been slowly changing, growing larger, sprouting fur and claws, in anticipation of a confrontation. “You people make me sick. I stopped a man from abusing those you love. And all you see is this—” her face, the last to change, transforms before our eyes into the fierce wolf-human mixture I saw in the subway tunnel. “I will take your ridicule and scorn no longer!”
Without warning, she whips around to the last Were, Manny, and delivers a lightning fast swipe from his neck to his waist, slicing him deep with four razor sharp claws on the end of her transformed hands. “I trusted you to run my business!” Her left hand swipes upward, reversing what her right hand just did. “I trusted you to have my back!”
Shocked for a split second, the other men stand frozen, then burst into action, tackling the transformed woman from behind. The five go down in a blur of fists and kicks. I leap forward, tackling the one she called Diego, driving him to the ground with a snap of my jaws at his face. I have no desire to permanently harm her packmates, but these bastards have gone too far.
Diego yields to my retaliation, looking away and lowering his chin. I snap my teeth at the air in front of him again to drive home my point, and then leap off him to take down another man.
Despite their odds, the men are not able to hold their own against the enraged woman. She’s tearing huge chunks of flesh from them now, her anger a force to be reckoned with. “No longer!” Her rough voice doesn’t even sound winded as she lands continuous blows on the charging men. “No longer will I tolerate this bullshit!”
I dive at Orlando, sinking my teeth into his shirt when he twists to the side. The fabric rips as I drag him down, climbing onto his back before he can right himself. I clamp my sharp teeth over the back of his neck, tightening my hold and slamming him to the pavement below. Knowing I’m one step away from breaking his neck, his body falls limp in defeat.
Manny stands, swaying on his feet, blood pouring from a dozen different wounds on his body, but still, he doesn’t relent. “You are an abomination! No one should have the ability to half change like this. You are either wolf or man, not both.”
I growl as I let go of Orlando’s neck, conveying my desire he should not move. Shifting positions, I move to stand by Magda’s side. She doesn’t sway under his harsh proclamation, she stares him down. “You’re an ignorant fool, Manny. This,” she says with a gesture toward her body, “this is the truest representation of our two halves. Like this, I am wolf and woman.”
I raise my head in pride, her sentiment is exactly what I said to her earlier.
“You, you pitiful man, are stuck between one or the other—never able to fully benefit from both halves of your soul working together. And you,” she snaps around to address all the men who attacked her tonight, her gravelly voice a deadly caress in the still morning air, “are no longer welcome in my pack. Get the hell out and never return. If I see you again, I’ll kill you.” She tilts her head up, exposing her throat toward the pink of the dawn sky, and lets out a long, sorrowful howl.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Vivian
Unwilling to wait any longer for Jon to return, and hoping he had better luck tonight than we did, Rafe and I retired to our small basement bedroom shortly after dawn. I felt uneasy closing my eyes without Jon here to watch
out for us, but Rafe soothed me into sleep, convincing me to relax with his agile fingers and sweet kisses.
It’s well after noon when I awake, only to find Jon has still not returned.
Sensing my unease, Rafe reaches for me in the dark room, drawing me close before speaking. “Maybe he got lucky and Magda let him stay at her place.”
“I can check easily enough.”
Rafe smothers a yawn. “Then why don’t you?”
I shrug, not sure how to put it into words. “It doesn’t feel right to barge into his privacy. I know, some sense deep within me, that he’s fine. Therefore, pushing into his head to double-check seems like overkill.” I sigh and relax into my husband’s arms. “I just have to trust him. He’d contact us if he needed to.”
“I agree. How about we get up and start formulating a plan? I haven’t been comfortable with this run-around-and-put-out-fires crap we’ve been doing since you returned to the city.” He sits up and leaves the warmth of the bed, rummaging through his bag for clean clothes. “I love this city, don’t get me wrong, but these killings aren’t our problem. I understand we initially feared Magdelena might reveal your daytime resting place or somehow try and blame the murders on Jon, but that’s behind us now.”
“How about because it’s the right thing to do?”
“I disagree.” He pulls on clothes, while I watch from my comfortable cocoon of warm blankets. “The local alpha and Jon seem to have an understanding between them now. He didn’t mention she’s still tossing out threats or anything like that. We need to focus. I was discouraged last night after we lost Rolando, but overall, I know we’ll flush the bastard out soon.”
My husband finally looks my way, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t make me pull the covers off you. Get your cute butt out of bed and get dressed.”
I smile, loving the commanding edge to his voice. “Yes, sir. Should I crawl over and suck your cock, too, to prove how in charge you truly are?”
He snorts, enjoying my teasing. “We had plenty of that this morning. Seriously though, get up and join me in the other room. I need to make breakfast.”
“I’m going to shower first. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Rafe leaves as I snuggle deeper into the covers, debating if I could get away with pulling them over my head for five more minutes of luxuriating in his warmth and scent left on the sheets.
The sounds of cabinets opening and pots banging reach me, ensuring I’ll never get a chance to pretend the day hasn’t started.
“Get up!” he calls. “Don’t make me bring in the wet rag.”
What happened to the sweet guy from yesterday asking me if I needed more rest?
Rafe reads my mind and calls from the kitchen, “He was subjected to your demanding lovemaking and knows, without a shadow of a doubt, you are completely healed.” I hear the water run and see the image of the wet dish towel in his hand. Bastard is going to come in here and shock me with the cold water if I don’t get up.
“That’s right,” he says with a chuckle.
I toss back the covers and stalk into the bath between the two small bedrooms. In twenty minutes, I’ve showered and dressed, and pulling my damp, freshly-combed hair off my face into a ponytail. By the time I get to the tiny table and chairs in the space between the small kitchen and living area, Rafe has finished eating.
“I’ve been thinking,” Rafe says, his hand curled around a steaming mug of coffee. “These killings, these distractions, could be more than we originally thought.”
I pour myself a half-mug of black coffee and take the seat across from him. “What do you mean?”
“You mentioned last night that the decoy spell and the trap door could all have been a set up to allow our prey to slip away.”
“Uh-huh, do you disagree?”
“No, on the contrary. What if everything we’ve encountered this week has been for an ulterior motive?”
“By whom? And for what purpose?”
“At first, due to the rumblings Jon reported in Magdelena’s pack, I wondered if maybe the local pack could be involved. But now I don’t think so. And I wouldn’t think they’d kill a vampire on purpose, especially right in front of vamp HQ. They’d have some sense of self-preservation to know better than attack the undead.”
“It’s true, with all the vampires in the city, the pack wouldn’t stand a chance. Are you saying now that you don’t think Justin is the cause for the magical imbalance that brought the legendary creatures to life?”
He shakes his head. “Honestly, I don’t know what to think. It’s all too convenient. But what if he is responsible for it? What does that mean in regards to the rest of us? That his blood happened to be rejected the very week you’re scheduled to return into the city?”
“But no one knew I was coming back, let alone that I’d left to begin with.”
“Your moves were logical, your retreat to heal a wise move.”
I bristle at the use of the word “retreat” and the implication of weakness it conveys. “So, essentially we’re back to our original idea—that someone is calling these things into being. A magical conjuring of some kind. But to what end? To cause havoc in the city? Is it a diversion from something else that’s happening that we’ve failed to notice?”
Rafe sets his mug down, a speculative look on his face. “Now there’s an idea worth following. If this was a redirection, what did it divert us from?”
“The assumption there is the distraction was aimed at us. But what if it wasn’t? What if it was aimed at someone else?”
“Like who?”
“Like a group—the local pack, one of the various covens in the city, or even the Tribunal. Could they have an enemy who conjured these magical creatures with the sole purpose to distract and cause harm? And if yes, what harm has been done? We’ve been so focused on finding these things we haven’t thought of what else we could be missing.”
My cell rings from the other room. I rise to get it, thinking it has to be Jon or the inn calling, as no one else has the number besides Justin. Digging through yesterday’s pockets, I find the phone and answer it, Jon’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey,” Jon says. “Just wanted to let you know I’m all right. I didn’t wake you did I?”
“No, we’re up and discussing theories. Where are you?”
“I… uh… I stayed at Magda’s and crashed on her couch.”
My eyebrows go up at the mention of her couch. Wonder how that happened and he didn’t wind up in her bed.
“I’ve got a lot to fill you in on,” he says. “First and foremost, the hombre gato is dead.”
“Glad to hear it. And you’re all right?”
“Thanks to Magda, yeah.” I hear cars in the background of wherever he’s calling from. “I’ll fill you in on the rest. I’m on my way home now, via the subway to throw off my scent.”
“You left already?”
Jon chuckles. “Yeah. Crept out while she was still sleeping. Seemed like the smartest move.”
“Yeah, for a thief in the night maybe. You should have said goodbye.”
“That was something I was trying to avoid.” He sighs. “Look, it was a long night, didn’t end ’til after sunrise, and I still had to trek back to the bar to get my clothes and phone. I was in no mood to rehash it all and told her I was wiped out, which was not a lie. Thankfully she was exhausted, too. I’ll catch up with her later. When my head is on straight.”
“Uh-huh.”
“We’ve got more important things to do. Find Rolando, right, Dria?”
By the tense tone and his use of my real name, I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it anymore. I don’t blame him. “We’ll see you soon,” I say, disconnecting the call.
Rafe wandered in to lean against the doorjamb, and heard both sides of the conversation. “He didn’t sleep with her, did he?”
“Nope. But he may not have to seduce her to learn what he wants to know. I’m inclined to let him handle it. If he can’t find out what
he needs to know before it’s time for us to leave, then I’ll pay the new alpha a visit and rip the knowledge out of her head.”
“Why wouldn’t you have made that offer first, rather than put him through all this?”
“Because it’s his pack, his desire to lead it, and his aspiration to unite all the packs with this knowledge. It should be him who makes the sacrifices to uncover what he needs to know.”
“Won’t you be defeating all that if you take the knowledge for him?”
“If he’s unable to finish what he’s set out to do and unable to extract what he needs to know, it doesn’t change the fact that him knowing the skill will make him a better protector and stronger right-hand man for us. I’d rather take whatever he needs to accomplish those goals than sit around and watch him flounder—but that doesn’t mean I don’t give him time first. He may be able to pull it off in the end.”
“Okay, fine. Come back to the table. I’ve just thought of another way to approach this.”
“Really? How?”
“With a city map. Let’s mark what we know and where it happened, and see if we can find a center point where the magical conjuring could have originated, or perhaps an overlap of distances that could relate to a commonality.”
“And if we do all this work and it still leads to Justin?”
“Then a duck is a duck. I won’t fight it anymore. But something seems too… easy in blaming Justin and a magical imbalance. And the timing is too coincidental.”
“Ahh… is this where you start quoting TV to me again?”
“You do remember!” Rafe smiles and draws me into a big hug. “‘Rule thirty nine: There’s no such thing as coincidence.’”
“God save me from TV quoting men and performance anxiety werewolves.”
“Hah! You think Jon’s anxious about his seduction of Magdelena? That’s a good one!”
“Don’t tell him, though. He’ll get all defensive and loud, and start posturing. And really, how much testosterone is one woman supposed to take before she gags on it?”
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