by Bella Jacobs
Swiping at my face, I smash my foot down on the only pedal on the floor—assuming it must be the brake since the levers control speed and direction. After a heart-lurching skid across the carpet, the brakes rock the machine to a stop.
I pitch forward, my chest colliding with the control panel, reminding me that I’m naked. I’ll have to find something in the wreckage to throw on before Maxim and I make a run for the car.
Please let Maxim be in one piece and able to run for the car…
Please don’t let it be Maxim dangling from the front of my makeshift murder weapon…
“Willow, are you hurt? I can’t get to you over these fucking wheels.”
Maxim! He’s alive.
I turn with a sob of relief, shifting onto my knees on the bench seat. Maxim is back in his human form with his hand braced against one of the large back wheels. He’s pale and still bleeding from the wound at his throat, but the blood isn’t coming fast and otherwise he appears to be in one piece.
But I’m pretty sure the same can’t be said for his brother.
Swallowing hard, I glance back over my shoulder. The plaster drifting through the air has cleared enough to make it easy to see Bane hanging from the front of the machine. The claw hit him right under his ribs, nearly slicing him in half, just like in my vision.
The sight of him hanging there, soulless and empty, like a pig ready for butchering, hits me in the gut. My stomach pitches and I lean over just in time to avoid vomiting all over myself.
I’m sick for several seconds. By the time it feels safe to sit up straight again, the man from the hotel office is outside the demolished room, shouting at the top of his lungs.
“What the fuck have you done? What the fucking fuck?” he shouts, dragging a shaking hand through his thin brown hair as his eyes do their best to leap out of his head. “Is that a fucking wolf in there?”
“The animal was rabid,” Maxim says, limping around the bulldozer to the overturned table, wincing as he steps on shattered glass. “It must have smelled our food or something. It jumped through the window and attacked us while we were sleeping. But don’t worry, we’ll pay for all the damages.”
“Fuck,” the man says, his head shaking numbly back and forth as he squints at what’s left of Bane. “That’s the biggest wolf I’ve ever seen. It’s like something from a fucking video game.”
“And, unfortunately, it bit me before my wife killed it,” Maxim says as he locates our bag and his jeans on the floor. He steps into them as he adds, “So, we need to get to the hospital as soon as possible.”
“But we’ll leave you our number in New York,” I say as I climb over the seat and hop down onto the carpet.
“All right,” the man says, glancing my way, then quickly averting his gaze, clearly more uncomfortable with my nudity than Maxim’s.
“We’ll be home in a couple of days and can wire the money right away,” Maxim adds, pressing my sweater into my hands.
By the time I pull it over my head and twist my wild hair into a knot at the nape of my neck, he’s found my jeans, too. No panties, but at this point, rough denim irritating my tender parts is also low on the list of things I’m worried about.
“Doesn’t seem fair for you to pay for damages when you were attacked in your sleep,” the man says, moving deeper into the room to get a closer look at Bane. “I’ll talk to my insurance rep. This might be covered by my policy. Nothing about people driving construction equipment through walls in there, I’m sure, but what else was a tiny woman supposed to do against a monster like that? Not like you could’ve fought that thing off with your bare hands.”
“No, I couldn’t have,” I agree, appreciating his understanding, but knowing we don’t have any more time to waste with small talk. Bane seems to have been alone, but there could be other members of his army nearby. “Let me give you our New York number and then we really have to go. I want to get to the hospital as soon as possible.”
“Right. Right, of course.” The man reaches for the pocket of the jean jacket he wears over his sweatpants and T-shirt, pulling out his cell. “I’ll type it into my notes.”
Maxim gives him the number, tells him to ask for Carrie in accounting, and then wraps an arm around my shoulders, leaning on me as we start for the car.
“Did he hurt your leg again, too?” I whisper in a rough voice, my throat raw from being sick.
“No, I’m playing it up so the guy will let us go,” he says. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You’re still bleeding from puncture wounds on your neck,” I say, tears rising in my eyes. “He almost killed you.”
“But he didn’t,” he says, squeezing my shoulder as we stop beside the car. “Because you saved my life again. You really have to stop that or I’m going to be in your debt forever.”
“No way,” I say, wrenching open the passenger’s side door with a rush of breath. “I’m never going to stop, but the sooner we can get back to something closer to normal, the better.” I make a show of holding onto Maxim’s arm and helping him into the car as I add, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. When Bane jumped on top of you… I thought my heart was going to punch a hole through my chest. How the hell did he find us so fast?”
“I have an idea, but we should drive first.” He nods subtly toward the ruined hotel room. “That guy is going to come down from the adrenaline rush and realize how strange this is pretty soon. We should be gone before that happens.”
“Right.” I stand as Maxim buckles his seat belt, lifting a hand to the man watching us from the shadows inside the room as I jog around to the driver’s side. “Thank you! And sorry again!”
He lifts a bewildered hand and says something I can’t quite make out, but that sounds like, “Its eyes look almost human.”
Almost human…
It’s an accurate description for Bane. Almost human, but not quite. Not enough to grant him compassion or empathy or any of the things he would need not to become a power-hungry psychopath.
But now…he’s dead.
“Why don’t I feel better?” I ask as we pick up speed, zooming down the abandoned country highway with nothing but our headlights on the road ahead of us. “He’s gone. I should be relieved. It’s over. Right?”
“That would be nice,” Maxim says, pushing up the sleeve on his sweatshirt. “But I don’t think so. Not yet. Maybe not even close.” He lifts his hand, making me gasp as he shifts just one finger into a sharp claw.
I swerve into the other lane before I recover and guide the car back onto my side of the road. “You can do that? Shift just…one part of yourself?”
“I can. I’m an extraordinary specimen,” he says dryly as he traces the claw over his muscled forearm. “You really are a lucky woman.”
“I really am,” I agree in an equally dry voice. “What are you—” I break off with a gagging sound as he digs his claw into his skin, slicing a half inch cut that immediately begins to bleed onto his jeans. A beat later, his fingers are all human again and he’s digging a tiny gray pellet from his torn flesh.
“Tracking device,” he says, holding it up between two fingers. “I thought I dreamt that part, but…guess not.” He sighs as he rolls the window down and tosses it out of the car. “Which means I nearly got us both killed.”
“No, you didn’t. Bane did,” I say, reaching out to rest a hand on his shoulder. “You were tortured, Maxim. It’s okay that you can’t remember everything that happened to you. And I feel partly responsible for how unprepared we were. I shouldn’t have worn you out the way I did. You were already weak and I—”
“Don’t you dare,” he says, capturing my hand and squeezing it tight in his. “Don’t apologize for that. That was the best sex of my life. If I’d died tonight, I would have at least died a happy man.”
I fight a smile.
This isn’t the time to smile, but I find I can’t help myself.
There’s still the hint of a grin in my voice as I ask, “Really?
The best? Even better than with supermodel fairies with legs as long as my entire body who can tie themselves into pretzel shapes?”
“Way better. No one can hold a candle to you, little wolf.” He squeezes my hand. “My dick and I are yours. For life.”
My grin spreads. “Well, shit. All right. I guess I can find a way to put up with that.”
“You’re good to me. Benevolent some might say.”
I nod. “Charitable, even.”
“Absolutely,” he says. “The Mother Teresa of fucking.”
I snort, then immediately feel horrible about it. A man is dead—a horrible man, yes, but it still isn’t a time for flirting and laughing. I pull in a shaky breath and ask, “Are you okay? With…what happened? I know he was a monster, but he was still your brother.”
“I don’t feel anything,” he says in a softer voice. “Not sadness. Not happiness. Just…relief, I guess. He wasn’t my brother anymore. He hadn’t been for a long time.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, my chest tight. “I don’t know if my sister is my sister anymore, either. I guess we’ll see. If she backs down now that Bane is gone and agrees to make peace, then maybe there’s still some good left in her.”
“And if she doesn’t, we’ll have to fight her and Bane’s army. He might prove even more powerful dead than he was alive. Fanatics love a martyr.”
I shake my head. “No. Kelley will help put a stop to this. She will. I’ll talk to her and convince her that her plan isn’t necessary anymore. I’ll prove to her that you’re not a monster and everything is going to be okay.”
“I hope so,” Maxim says. “I really do.”
But I can tell he doesn’t believe an easy out is in the cards for us.
And as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t either. I think tonight was just the beginning, not the end, and that there’s still far more blood to be spilled.
Chapter Four
Maxim
I wake to the sound of a deep horn blaring in the distance and the screech of seagulls. My eyes open to dark gray sky visible through the back glass of the station wagon and the events of the night before come rushing back.
Willow and I found a safe place to stop in a diner parking lot near the ferry station in Hoboken, New Jersey, but we can’t stay here long. Soon, the diner will open, and people will begin to arrive.
We need to be on our way to the ferry before we’re spotted.
There aren’t as many shifters living on this side of the Hudson as in lower Manhattan, but there are enough that if we linger too long, we’ll risk someone seeing us. And I don’t want rumors of our return getting back to the tower until we know that Cam hasn’t turned our pack against us.
I start to sit up, only to find my arm pinned to the thin blanket beneath me.
I turn to see Willow curled up beside me, her head on my bicep and her hands fisted in my sweatshirt, clinging to me in her sleep.
The sight of her holding on so tight goes straight to my chest, making it feel too small, too full, but also perfectly right.
This tiny, fierce, brilliant woman is really mine.
My mate, my partner, my defender, my missing piece. Gazing at her sleeping face, I vow again to do whatever it takes to give her the peace and happiness she deserves.
Even if it means giving up my place in the pack.
We can start with organizational changes and see how that goes, but I don’t ever want to have to choose between my people and my mate again. I can no longer trust myself to make the choice that serves the greatest good. I sense, from now on, I will choose her.
That I will always choose her, from today until my last day.
I just hope we live long enough for me to prove to her that I deserve her trust and this second chance.
“Wake up, little wolf,” I whisper, brushing her hair from her cheek. “Time to save the world.”
She moans sleepily. “Five more minutes, Dad.”
“Not your dad, thank goodness.” I roll on top of her, grateful for the spaciousness of this awful car. It smells like mildew and drives like a tank, but with the seats folded down, there’s plenty of room for two people to sleep side by side.
And plenty of room for me to nudge Willow’s thighs apart and settle between them. I nuzzle my face into her neck. “Hmmm, you smell good all sleepy and warm.”
“And with vomit mouth,” she says, turning her head away. “God, I’m disgusting. Move away.”
“You’re not disgusting, you’re delicious,” I say, kissing my way down her neck as I skim a hand under her sweater to cup her breast. “And I think fucking you is the best way to start the day.”
“Not a chance, psycho,” she says, shoving at my shoulders. “You’re wounded and we’re in a public parking lot. We have way too much to do to risk getting arrested for public fornication.”
“Humans.” I sigh and continue to play with her tight little nipple. “So uptight.”
“Also, you smell like dried blood,” Willow says, slapping at my hand. “So, stop that. Before you make me too turned on to think straight.”
I reluctantly withdraw my fingers. “Fine. But if we’re lucky enough to end up in my bed tonight, I want a raincheck. I’m not too wounded to make you come, woman. At least four or five times.”
She smiles and nods before lifting her hand to hover in front of her mouth. “Agreed. But right now, I need to pee. And brush my teeth. Is the diner open yet?”
Turns out it isn’t, but the liquor store across the street is. They apparently close at five thirty a.m. and open up again at ten.
Using the last of the money Felicia gave us, I purchase two small bottles of decent quality whiskey while Willow uses the bathroom. Then I take my turn using the facilities and brushing my teeth, thanking my past self for having the presence of mind to put our meager toiletries back in the duffel after our shower last night.
If I can’t get to my secret money stash, I may have to walk into the tower in blood-splattered clothes three sizes too small, but at least I’ll have decent breath and brushed hair.
That is, assuming it’s safe to return to my pack.
If it’s not…
I shake my head at my reflection in the paint-speckled bathroom mirror. I can’t think about that now. I’ll cross that bridge if—or when—we come to it.
Back in the store, I find Willow chatting with the clerk, a man with a large belly straining the front of his Led Zeppelin T-shirt and a graying beard that hangs all the way to the center of his chest. He’s beaming at her like she’s the most delightful thing he’s encountered in years and though I can’t say I care to see another man looking at my mate like that, I can’t fault him.
She is delightful.
So fucking delightful that by the time we board the ferry and are standing at the railing, watching the city skyline creep closer, I’m beginning to have serious doubts about our plan.
“We should get a hotel room,” I say, tightening my grip on the metal beneath my hands. “I have some money and a weapon stashed with a friend who works in luggage storage at Grand Central. We can fetch it, get you locked up somewhere safe, and I’ll handle Cam alone. I’m already so much stronger than I was yesterday. If he tries anything, I can handle him.”
“Unless he makes you forget why you’re mad at him,” Willow counters, “Or where you’ve been for the past few days. Or that you and I are on the same team now.”
I glance down, assuring her, “I wouldn’t forget that.”
Her brow furrows. “You might not want to forget it, but Cam is powerful, Maxim. Clearly. If he’s managed to bring entire packs around to Bane’s way of thinking in just a few weeks, we would be stupid to underestimate his gift.” She nibbles her bottom lip, making me want to do the same.
But sadly, there’s no time to indulge those feelings, and we don’t want to attract any more attention than we have already. Willow and I are easily the most striking people on this ferry and driving the most hideous car. Even with the scarf I pu
rchased at the ticket counter wrapped around my neck to hide the wound Bane left behind last night, the combo has drawn more than a few curious looks.
“Honestly, I’m still not sure I’m up for the challenge,” she adds. “What if his gift is stronger than my mother’s and I can’t resist it at all? Or what if I’m just so tired and worn down that I’m not as resilient as I usually am?” She grabs the end of my scarf and gives it a light tug. “I don’t want to forget that we’re friends.”
“Friends?” I wrap an arm around her waist, drawing her closer. “Is that all we are?”
Her lips twitch, but she doesn’t smile, and her green eyes remain clouded with fear. “Fine, I don’t want to forget that your cock is my favorite new toy and I want to kiss you and laugh with you and have babies with you and give you shit every day for the next five or six decades.”
“Seven,” I insist, curling my fingers into the small of her back under her sweater, loving the way she shivers beneath my touch. “I want to wake up naked next to you on my one hundredth birthday and show you I’ve still got what it takes to make you scream.”
“In terror?” she asks, arching a brow. “No offense, big bad, but not even you are going to look good naked when you’re a hundred.”
“Oh, ye of little faith.” I bend, pressing a kiss to her forehead, but she pulls away before I can transfer my attention to her lips.
“Seriously, we don’t have time to flirt,” she says. “What if I fail? What if Cam does a head job on me and convinces me to turn against you? I know I look relatively harmless, but Maggie was right, Maxim. I am ruthless, especially when it comes to protecting the people I love.”
“I know,” I say. “It’s one of the things I like best about you.”
“Thank you, but there’s a dark side to that. You know there is. All Cam would have to do is convince me that you’re a threat to Diana or Hermione or my parents or something, and that’s it. I would be your enemy again. And I would be a bad enemy.” Her lips tighten, shifting to one side before she adds in a softer voice, “Not long ago I was having some very serious thoughts about taking over as Alpha of North Star and locking you away in a cell so you couldn’t mess things up. I wasn’t going to torture you or steal your life essence or whatever Kelley wanted, but…I wasn’t going to be nice or fair, either.”