Bill's cell buzzed while Opal and Hank glared at one another.
I'm at the Christopher Hotel, the text read. I don't want company tonight.
"She's at the Christopher." Bill turned his phone around so the others could see.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
I'm sorry you saw that, Hank's text read. Janine was a mistake, but I took her on because she needed a firm hand. I guess you know that, too. I wish I could take those images away. Now I understand better what you've been suffering through all this time.
Bree, Jayson's text read, come home to us. We'll make this better, I promise.
Breanne, I love you. Please don't let this upset you. I know this is difficult, but will you still go through KingDom's tomorrow night? I desperately need the information, sweetheart. I sighed as I read Bill's text.
Bree, men are assholes most of the time. I wanted to laugh at Opal's message. I brushed tears away instead.
Opal, bring Bill to the Lean Bean at nine tomorrow morning, I replied to Opal's text. We'll talk about KingDom's there.
Okay, her reply was immediate. We'll be there.
* * *
"You didn't sleep, did you?"
Hank and Jayson had come to the Lean Bean with Opal and Bill. Hank's dark eyes narrowed as he assessed my appearance. I ignored his words. I hadn't invited him. Or Jayson. They'd come anyway.
"I thought Trina was going to hit me with a skillet this morning, and Mom won't speak to me," Jayson said as he slid into the seat across from me. I'd chosen the back booth by the window so the spotty sunlight might warm away some of the chill. I was cold again, and even the latte I'd bought wasn't helping.
Bill scooted in close to me, while Opal squeezed in on the outside. Hank took the spot next to Jayson with a heavy sigh.
"Bree, you don't look like you feel good," Bill began. He was right—I didn't. Images of Janine, strapped to a Saint Andrew's cross kept popping into my head while Hank—I shuddered and forced the images away for perhaps the fortieth time.
"You keep seeing it, don't you?" Hank said.
I turned away from Hank, but that didn't mean his words weren't true—all those things I'd read in Janine the night before played like a loop through my memory. I had no idea how to shut it off. I'd spent half the night sitting atop Morro Rock after discovering that sleep was impossible.
Yeah, I'd folded to Morro Bay and sat at the top of that dome of rock, like Lissa would in the future, and stared at an endlessly moving body of water. The Pacific's waters were the same as my thoughts—none of them calm or still at the moment.
Bree, I don't love Janine. I do love you, Hank's voice filtered into my mind.
You remember what I told you at the beginning? That there's no place we can meet in the middle? You are what you are. I'm this. I stared out the window. Eventually you'll want those other things again, I went on. Find somebody to make you happy. I'm not that girl.
Breanne, I don't know what to do to convince you that you're wrong. Someday, I hope you understand that. For now, give me a chance. We really need to protect you—Bill, Jayson and I. Opal, too. I thought she was going to take my head off over Janine.
You need to impress upon Janine that she has to stop stalking you. And me. She wants to murder me, Hank. If you don't do something about that, I will.
You don't intend to kill her, do you?
Hell, no. What do you think I am? I'll just hand her a bit of vampire compulsion and send her ass on its way. I don't want to be constantly looking over my shoulder for the ex-girlfriend, in addition to all the others who'd like to destroy me.
She's not my ex-girlfriend. That wasn't our agreement. She signed up for six months of training. I was glad to get rid of her afterward.
Unbelievable.
Baby, stop obsessing about this. I don't know how to get that crap out of your head, but if you have any suggestions, I'll be happy to work on that.
I have no idea what might work, short of a lobotomy.
Let's get this KingDom's mess settled; you need to come with me today. I want to hold my girl.
Hank, no, I whimpered mentally.
Baby, I've never asked you out. I'm asking now. I should have done that from the beginning, instead of what I did.
And where are we going?
Down the coast. Lunch. I don't think I've ever bought you anything except a sandwich.
Fine. I moved my shoulders uncomfortably.
"Are you done having a private conversation?" Jayson asked. "Some of us have jobs to do." A grimace crossed his face—he didn't like being left out of the conversation.
"Rome, shut up," Hank said amiably. "Bill, you have the floor." He nodded toward Bill, a slight smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. Well, he'd just gotten what he wanted and I was left sitting there, wondering why I didn't seem to have a spine where Hank was concerned.
"Breanne, are we still on for tonight?" Bill asked.
"I guess," I went back to staring out the window.
"What will you do if that woman appears again?" Opal asked. I turned around to blink at her in confusion, but the question wasn't aimed at me. She was asking Hank what he intended to do.
"I will send her on her way, after telling her a restraining order is never attractive on her record. I'll be happy to file one, and I'll make sure Breanne does as well," Hank replied with a frown.
"Breanne doesn't have to. I've already taken care of that this morning," Bill held up his cell. "Talked to the DA and a judge. I don't have names for those assholes on the Internet yet, but I do have Janine Webster's information. Maybe you ought to impress upon her that the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Department is watching her carefully from now on."
"Thank you," I said.
Bill smiled gently at me and said, "Sweetheart, I'd do just about anything for you."
"Same here," I nodded. Right then, I was glad I wasn't forced to choose between him and Hank. I might lose my mind if I were. Are you sure you don't mind—this multiple mate thing? I asked mentally.
Sweetheart, it doesn't make any difference to me, as long as I know you care.
I love you, I said simply.
"I love you, too," he said aloud and leaned in to kiss me.
"Hey, where's mine?" Jayson complained.
"Do you deserve one?" I said when Bill pulled back with a satisfied smile.
"No idea. I want one anyway," Jayson shrugged.
"Suffer," I said.
"Always the way," Jayson grumped.
"You poor thing," Opal snickered unsympathetically.
"Eight tonight?" Hank asked. "So I can get Breanne back in time to dress her appropriately."
"Sounds good. We'll wire you and Jayson, and you're authorized to carry weapons through the Department. Don't hesitate to send mindspeech if you need me. I'll have a few people on standby, including Opal."
"You're really worried about this, aren't you?" I watched Bill's face closely. I didn't want to read him—he needed that space between us.
"I've gotten some intel, and let's just say the financing behind that club is murky. That means the money may have come from criminal activity. We're still tracking information on individuals associated with the ownership, and that hasn't been easy. I want some answers. And, if things are like Hank and Jayson suspect and there's a connection to the club and the murders, then we really need to shut this down fast. It may only be an attempt to get rid of the competition. It could be something deeper and much worse."
"This doesn't sound good," I rubbed my forehead.
"Baby, you can sleep while I drive down the coast," Hank offered. "Come on. Bring your coffee and I'll buy an egg and cheese biscuit for you on the way."
"That sounds good," I said. "I didn't eat anything this morning."
"Not surprised," Hank muttered. "Bill, if you'd like to come with us," he added.
"I'd like to, but I have work," Bill said. "We'll get together another day."
We walked out of the Lean Bean
together, and I found myself surrounded by all of them. Jayson's SUV was parked nearby, and Bill and Opal climbed in with him, leaving me with Hank.
"I asked Trey to park a car near the club," Hank leaned in to whisper in my ear before kissing it carefully. "It's borrowed, so Janine or anyone else won't recognize it."
"Hank," I hugged myself.
"Come on," he pulled me against his side. "Don't let this upset you. This is our day, remember?"
"Hank, it's Monday."
"It is," he grinned.
"Where are we going?"
"It's a surprise."
* * *
"I know they were in that coffee shop, but I never saw them come out," Wildrif whined. He couldn't understand how Bill Jennings kept appearing and then disappearing from his visions, either.
"Where's that thing you have—that foresight?" Zachariah Tanner demanded. "Obediah told me you were something amazing, but I haven't seen much of it yet," he fumed.
"I am formidable," Wildrif defended himself.
"You are an idiot," Zachariah spat. "I asked you to watch Bill Jennings, and you let him get away."
Wildrif's wispy, pale hair lifted in the breeze while mismatched eyes surveyed the youngest of the Tanner brothers. Wildrif knew quite well the Tanners were werewolves. He'd also seen, through his gift of foresight, that Obediah would lend him to Zachariah for this assignment.
Zach was Obediah's lead assassin, and when the offer came to Obediah for Bill Jennings' death, Obediah had demanded (and received) the promise of ten million dollars upon delivery of proof.
Obediah had then instructed Zach to bring back Jennings' head, with or without accompanying agents' heads. Obediah never quibbled over numbers. His only concerns were results and covered tracks.
The trouble was, Zach found it difficult to track Jennings. As a werewolf, he had a keen sense of smell, but Jennings' scent baffled him. That's why Obediah had agreed to lend Wildrif to his brother. Wildrif, with his talent, could generally locate anyone. Bill Jennings was turning into a problem—for werewolf and seer.
* * *
Breanne's Journal
"Baby, we're here."
Hank's words woke me from a sound sleep. I hadn't even realized the SUV had stopped.
"I was more tired than I thought," I straightened up in the passenger seat, attempting—with the limited space available—to stretch the kinks out of arms and legs.
"If you'd been in bed with me last night, I'd have made sure you got some sleep," Hank's eyes darkened as he unbuckled my seat belt. "After a while," he added, leaning in to give me a quick peck. Well, at least I was getting kisses, now. Janine never got that from Hank. I shut off that train of thought immediately.
"I don't want to talk about it," I opened my door and slipped out of the vehicle.
"I get that," Hank climbed out of the driver's seat and shut his door. "I just want you to know that you can talk to me anytime about what bothers you, even if what bothers you is me."
"Sure," I said, turning to see that we were in a restaurant parking lot. It looked busy.
"Does that mean you're blowing me off or agreeing to talk to me about those things?" Hank's hand settled at the small of my back and gently pushed me toward the restaurant's door.
"Hank, I don't feel comfortable with that," I hung my head and watched my feet as they matched his stride.
"So you're blowing me off."
"I didn't say that," I lifted my head and blinked at him. "I wish you'd try to understand. I've never talked to anybody about anything that bothered me."
"Because there wasn't anyone to offer before," Hank pointed out.
"It scares me," I said and lowered my chin. I couldn't look at his beautiful face any longer, and I wanted so badly at that moment to know what he was thinking. I needed to know what he really thought about all this—about me—Janine, everything.
"I know it does, love. It doesn't have to happen all at once. A little at a time is okay."
"Hank, I don't think I can talk about most of it."
"Not even nasty Janine? Tell me what you saw that bothers you the most. I have a good idea, but tell me anyway. That way we can sort through it, and I can explain what was happening."
"I thought this was our day," I tried to move away from Hank when he reached out to open the restaurant's door. "Yet Janine keeps cropping up." Hank wouldn't let me get away; gripping my arm carefully, he pulled me inside with him.
"Two for lunch, please, under the name Hank."
"I have that reservation," the hostess nodded at Hank. Like most women, she couldn't take her eyes off him for several seconds. "Follow me, please." She lifted two menus and led us toward the back of the restaurant.
We were seated at a table next to tall windows overlooking Monterey Bay. The water was deep blue under a noonday sun and long strands of kelp moved with the waves.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Hank opened his menu. "Jayson and I have been here a few times. He talks about buying property here, but hasn't found the view he wants, yet."
"You mean Jayson can't just order people out of their homes?" I opened my menu and stared at lists of items without really seeing them.
"Not so far," Hank shook his head and continued to study the menu. "There are a couple of places he'd bid on if they came up for sale, though."
"No doubt." I shut my menu with a sigh.
"What are you having?" Hank looked up and studied me.
"Not hungry," I said, turning to stare out the window.
"I'll order for you if you don't pick something."
"Isn't that what you guys do anyway? Don't you assert your dominance by telling your sub what to do and when and how to do it?"
"Now it comes out," Hank breathed. "You saw that, too. It's part of the training. All of it was agreed to at the beginning. She knew what was happening, what was expected of her and why she would get punished if she didn't do as she was told."
"Punishment." I shuddered and my arms wrapped around my waist involuntarily.
"It's a part of it," Hank said softly. "Don't you think we know the differences in people? Some, all you have to do is say a word or two and that's harsher punishment than a dozen blows. Others keep making the same mistakes, when they know the correction is coming."
"That still places all the power with you. Like you know everything and the other person knows nothing."
"That's what it's about. It's a power exchange. They want to give it to the doms and masters. It's all part of the culture and lifestyle. We're not perfect, Bree. We know that. At least the best of us do. When we make a mistake, the best thing to do is to admit it. Right the wrong, if a wrong has been committed."
"So who flogs you, Henry Hank Bell, when you fuck up?" I stood abruptly, my chair making a harsh, scraping sound on wood flooring as I shoved it back.
"Bree, sit," Hank commanded.
"Fuck you," I snapped and folded space.
* * *
At least all the media had left my house. No news vans cluttered my driveway or the street in front of the house. It didn't matter—I would have gone elsewhere if they'd still been there. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to be anyone except who I was. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I stalked through the back door and flopped onto a patio chair. My phone was in my hand shortly after, and I sent an angry text to Hank.
Fuckyoufuckyoufuckoff, I tapped before hitting send.
My next text wasn't quite as angry, but it certainly displayed my rebellion. Bill, appeared on my screen as I pushed letters on my phone, I'll be going to KingDom's alone tonight. Tell Hank and Jayson to screw themselves. I don't need them.
* * *
"What the hell did you do?" Bill wanted to yell at Hank, but he was at FBI headquarters in San Francisco and couldn't.
"Tried to get her to talk. Pushed a little too hard. That's what I did."
"I thought you were taking that trip to calm her down, not send her into harm's way."
"What are you tal
king about?" Hank's voice betrayed his worry.
"She sent a text telling me she planned to go to KingDom's alone tonight. I've tried to get triangulation on her phone, but it keeps breaking up. I don't know where she is."
"Jayson and I will go in as planned tonight. Have your people ready in case there are problems," Hank terminated the call.
* * *
"Did Gavin arrive safely?" Wlodek asked.
"Yes. He sent an email, telling me he arrived at the safe house," Charles set a folder in front of Wlodek. "These need your signature, Honored One."
"Thank you, Charles. That will be all." Charles turned to go. "If you hear anything else from Gavin, be sure to let me know," Wlodek added.
"I will." Charles walked out of Wlodek's study.
* * *
Lissa's Journal
"I don't know why I feel so unsettled," I rubbed my arms and paced at the foot of my bed. I was dressed in a sleeveless tank and pajama bottoms, but if Winkler had his way, I wouldn't be wearing them for long.
"I might be able to distract you for a while," Winkler lounged on the bed, grinning at me.
"You think you can, huh?" I wrinkled my nose at him.
"I know I can. Come here." My werewolf mate patted the bed beside him. Of course he was naked—werewolves are born without modesty. At least Winkler was.
"Are there any modest werewolves?" I lifted an eyebrow.
"Stop teasing me and undress," Winkler's grin widened.
"Stop playing with your dangly bits, it's distracting," I pulled my top over my head.
"Mmmm, boobies," Winkler chuckled appreciatively.
"Are you twelve?" I huffed, shucking my pajama bottoms and stepping out of them.
"I'm a grown werewolf. There's a difference. And these are not dangling at the moment." He cupped himself.
"Everybody's a comedian," I slapped a hand over my eyes.
"Come on. Come to bed." Winkler folded to me, pulled my body against his and ran his hands over my breasts.
"Do you remember when we first met?" I blinked up at him.
"Yeah. You made my junk stiff every time I looked at you."
"Is that all?" I asked innocently.
"Enough of that," his arm went beneath my bottom to lift me against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist.
Blood Revolution (God Wars, #3) Page 10