Falling for the Billionaire Wolf and His Baby (Blood Moon Brotherhood)

by Summers, Sasha

  A bright blue plus sign.

  She frowned, sitting on the toilet in shock. It had to be wrong. It had to be. Please let it be wrong. But the only way to know was try again.

  “Mr. Brown,” she asked through the door. “I need another one.”

  Mr. Brown returned minutes later with another test.

  She stacked the pregnancy tests side by side, promptly bursting into tears when the second bright blue plus sign appeared.

  “Miss Talbot?” Mr. Brown knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

  Her wailed, “Fine,” wasn’t convincing. And seconds later, Brown stood inside the small woman’s restroom, glancing from her to the tests.

  She didn’t bother asking how he picked the lock. Or argue with him when he tucked both tests into the plastic bag containing her latest wardrobe change. No, he offered her his hand and led her from the bathroom without a word.

  When they were headed north on highway seventy, he asked. “What can I do for you Miss Talbot?”

  She glanced at the man. “Can you tell me about Cara, Mr. Brown?”

  He was quiet.

  “Please,” she pushed. “More specifically, how much time passed between Finn’s… involvement with her and Oscar’s birth?”

  Mr. Brown cleared his throat. “No more than six months, I believe.”

  She nodded. She’d have to google a wolf’s gestation cycle when she had the chance. Or talk to Hollis. Chances were this wouldn’t be a run-of-the-mill pregnancy. Why would it be? For an hour, she stared out the window, aware of trees, snow, and winding roads. No traffic this time of the morning, most of the world was still asleep. And silence. She jumped when Mr. Brown murmured, “We’re almost to the airfield.”

  If that was supposed to be comforting, it wasn’t. “Airfield?”

  “Better to puddle jump in a smaller plane than attempt travel through a large airport. Too many eyes.”

  She rested her head against the headrest. “Mr. Brown, what did you do before all of this?”

  “I was a Navy SEAL, Miss Talbot.”

  She nodded. “I suppose there’s always some sort of fight or conflict surrounding Finn.” Poor Finn. What would he do when he found out about the baby? She covered her face with her hands. A baby that would be like Oscar…

  Panic pressed in on her, so she focused on the sound of Brown’s voice.

  “Until last month, Mr. Dean’s life was fairly mundane. We knew of the Others’s existence, had seen what they were capable after they attacked Mal, but they tended to stay on the sidelines where Mr. Dean was concerned. More like they were watching him, studying him.”

  She glanced his way. “Studying him?”

  “Best way to understand your opponent—determine what their next move is.” He nodded. “Mr. Dean’s very good at being unpredictable. I’m sure he frustrated the hell out them.”

  She smiled. “Good.”

  Mr. Brown smiled, too.

  “Why do you work for him?” she asked. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is?”

  “Mr. Dean and Mr. Robbins—”

  “Mr. Robbins?”

  “Hollis,” he clarified. “They saved my life. And they gave me a reason to live after I lost my family.”

  “I’m so—” Her words were cut short as their rental truck was rammed. Jessa had no time to think or brace, only hold on as the vehicle went spinning across the highway into oncoming traffic.

  Her head smacked the passenger side window, leaving her ears ringing and a hot throb in her temple.

  “Miss Talbot?” Mr. Brown’s voice was firm. “Can you move?”

  She hung, upside down, the blood rushing to her head, and she promptly threw up.

  “I’m unbuckling you,” Mr. Brown said, his hands working the seat belt clasp and releasing her.

  It wasn’t far to go—the truck cab had collapsed.

  “Light it?” A woman’s voice. Outside.

  A man spoke, irritated. “Give them a minute.”

  Jessa glanced at Brown. He’d pulled his gun from the holster under his jacket. “Can you move?” he whispered softly.

  “Others?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “I can move,” she whispered.

  “Take this.” He shoved a second gun into her hands. “Let me go out first, then follow me, out your window.”

  “I’m lighting it,” the woman argued.

  “Maybe they’re dead.” The man sounded hopeful.

  “They’re not dead,” another voice, one she knew. One that left her cold and quaking with fear. “We need to make sure.”

  “Cyrus,” she whispered.

  Brown’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Ready?”

  No, she wasn’t ready. But Brown was out the window before she could answer, and the noises that followed didn’t offer much comfort. She scrambled out her window, wincing as broken glass cut through the back of her shirt and embedded in her palms. By the time she was on her feet, Brown had shot one man and was staring at the woman—gun ready.

  “Can you do it, Mr. Brown?” Cyrus’s voice was taunting.

  Jessa huddled behind the truck, bracing her shaking arm on the bent metal frame of the vehicle they’d been driving. She wiped the wetness from her face, rubbed it on her white leggings. She gripped the gun in her hand, but her arm was shaking, going numb.

  Brown’s arm fell, dropping to his knees in defeat.

  “The weakness of humanity,” Cyrus said. “Now, watch her do what you couldn’t. Tess.”

  The woman was staring at her, eyes narrowed, a small smile on her face. The sort of smile that caused fear to churn in the pit of her stomach.

  Cyrus grabbed Brown by the hair, forcing the man to turn—to see her. “Run Jessa,” Brown called out.

  That was when Jessa saw the gun in the woman’s hand. She pushed off the car, swaying on unsteady legs. Walking wasn’t easy, running was almost impossible. She tried to make it off the road and into the woods. Maybe in the trees, she could lose them.

  The gun went off, and Jessa was knocked forward, a shooting pain in her right shoulder. Two more shots and she was on the ground, her nose buried in wet leaves and dirt. She couldn’t move, her limbs were too heavy…

  “You killed one of mine. I killed one of yours,” Cyrus’s voice rang out. “You tell Mr. Dean what happened here. You tell him I shot her in the back and she died in the dirt. Tell him I’ll be waiting.”

  Cyrus’s words echoed in her ears. This was all to get Finn. All of it.

  “If he doesn’t come, his pup is next,” Cyrus continued.

  Jessa sobbed, an odd numbness seeping into her limbs and weighing her down. She hurt, yes, but it was dull—fading.

  She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave Finn or Oscar. Or the baby their love had made. Breathing became difficult, her vision blurred…

  “Jessa Talbot,” Cyrus said, lifting her easily into his arms. He sniffed her temple, his cold eyes narrowing. “You smell different now.” He sniffed again, bending close to her. “Plus one?” His smile grew. “I have to give it to him. Mating is a more exciting way to build a pack than biting.”

  “Am I going to die?” she forced the words through stiff lips.

  He held her away from him. “Now? No. Tranquilizer darts. I still need you.” His hand tilted her head back, his pale eyes searching hers. “Until this pup is born, that is. After that, I might decide to keep you as a pet. Or I’ll kill you.” He frowned then. “You’re bleeding. Let’s wrap this up so you can rest more comfortably.”

  He carried her back to the street as a black SUV pulled up and two men climbed out, immediately going through the wreckage. It was hard to keep her eyes open now but she tried. She had no idea what they were looking for.

  They dumped the contents of her purse on the road, shredding the fabric and tossing it carelessly. They found the shopping bag and the pregnancy tests.

  He held his hand out, taking one of the tests. “Leave the other o
ne in plain sight,” he said.

  She started crying when she saw Brown, his head bashed and bloody.

  “He’s alive, Jessa.” Cyrus said. “He needs to stay alive.”

  She glanced at him, torn between tears and fury.

  He smiled down at her. “Miss Talbot, let me make one thing clear. Until this pup is born, I will treat you generously. But never mistake my patience with tolerance.” He sighed. “You may disagree with my manner of doing things. You may feel anger, or fear, for me. But I will not tolerate disrespect. So, when you’re feeling especially annoyed, I recommend you keep your eyes on the ground. Or I will feel obligated to discipline you.” He gripped her chin with one hand. “And while I know I would enjoy your lessons, you, I promise, would not.”

  Jessa closed her eyes, unable to fight the darkness creeping in.

  “Sleep now, Jessa,” his voice was low, almost sympathetic. “You’ll need your energy.”

  …

  “We can take ‘em,” Mal said, pacing the rooftop.

  “Her brother is inside.” Finn ran a hand through his hair, exhaustion weighing him down.

  “You were right about one thing.” Mal smiled at him. “Mates and kids, man. Talk about complicating things.”

  Finn smiled, he had no choice.

  “Guess the real question is, is all this shit worth it?” Mal paced.

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t think about it or anything. Just say the first thing that comes to mind.” Mal frowned at him. “I’m serious, Finn. You don’t have to be all loyal wolf-man daddy to me.”

  Finn shook his head. “I don’t need to think about it. Jesus, Mal. They’re mine.”

  Mal was staring at him. “And the plan? We sit here and watch Gentry shoot Thomas through the window? How the hell are you going to explain that to her brother? I’m thinking that might lead to questions we’re trying to avoid.”

  “No.” He sighed. Mal was so ready for a fight he didn’t hear anything he didn’t want to. “I go in,” he repeated. “Gentry will cover me, yes, but he said it’s only Thomas inside. We have to trust his intel. Give me five minutes and follow me in.”

  He nodded. “Let’s do it.”

  Finn’s gaze swept the street again. No cars parked, no suspicious movements. Was Thomas going rogue? What was his plan here? “I want this done, clean and easy.” He glanced at his watch. They’d been inside a half hour, tops. He was pissed that Harry had come home without his driver—but the kid didn’t get how serious the situation was. And while he hoped Harry hadn’t been infected, he’d rather it was only Harry and not Jessa’s entire family changed. Or worse, killed for sport.

  “And if you need backup?” Mal made no attempt to hide his irritation. “If Gentry can’t get a clean shot?”

  “Five minutes.” Finn looked him in the eyes. “Five minutes, Mal.”

  “Got it.”

  Finn went back down the roof stairs of the shop catty-corner from Jessa’s home. She lived in a declining neighborhood of old homes in a forgotten part of the city, far from the growth surrounding the major highways. Far enough off the beaten path that bad things could happen without getting too much attention.

  This morning Thomas had shown up on the Talbot doorstep, and Gentry had freaked. Finn knew time was of the essence. He’d like to think Thomas was scouting the place, looking for any sign of Jessa and her whereabouts. But he couldn’t leave Harry alone and unprotected. At the same time, Harry had no idea of what was happening in the world around him, and Finn would like to keep it that way.

  He knocked on the wooden front door, waving at Harry through the glass oval in its center.

  “Mr. Dean?” Harry’s surprise was evident. “Finn, I mean.”

  “Hey, Harry.” He shook his hand. “You’re here.”

  “Oh, come on in,” he said, looking embarrassed as he stepped back to let him pass. “I got a call about a possible gas leak on the block. They said it was an emergency.”

  “So you left class and headed home?” The hairs on the back of his neck spiking up. Thomas was here, Finn could smell him.

  “I figured ‘emergency’ meant get over here ASAP,” he said, heading down the hall.

  Finn followed, trying not to act like he was ready to attack. “And is it an emergency? What’s the problem?”

  “Don’t know. He’s checking.” Harry nodded at Thomas, who was decked out in what resembled a gas company uniform.

  Finn stared, and Thomas stared back at him, the white-knuckled grip on his binder giving him away. Finn grinned, unable to resist the anger and challenge in Thomas’s gaze. The boy thought he could fight? Finn would be only too happy to prove him wrong—again—but away from Harry. His skin tightened, wanting to shift.

  “I was stopping by to get some things for your sister. I can handle this if you can get these things together?” He handed Harry the bogus list he’d made up. He shook his head, smiling.

  “Sure, I’ll be back,” Harry said, reading over the list. “Make yourself at home.”

  Thomas stayed in his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, a little too confident for Finn’s liking.

  “Why are you here?” Finn asked, not moving.

  Thomas glanced out the window, the muscle in his jaw working. “Waiting.”

  “For?” he asked, his gut tightening.

  “You,” he said, looking at him.

  Finn rolled his head, stretching the aching muscles of his neck. His wolf wanted to shift, demanded he shift. “I’m here.”

  He nodded. “You’re here, protecting her brother from me.” His anger was barely controlled. “And you have no idea where she is.”

  Finn’s heart stopped, turning frigid. She was safe. With Brown. But the victory in Thomas’s eyes had doubt pressing the air from his lungs.

  “You haven’t heard from her? She didn’t make it to Houston.”

  His skin bristled, the wolf forcing his way out. He pressed his eyes shut, reaching for the medallion that no longer hung about his neck. Jessa had it… Jessa. His fingers popped, the joints dislocating, adjusting for the shift. His arms shook, trembling with restraint. He couldn’t lose it now.

  “Okay,” Harry said, coming into the kitchen. “I have never seen a red sweater, but she had this red sweatshirt so—” He broke off. “Where’s the gas company guy?”

  Finn’s eyes popped open and he pushed off the counter. Where was he? He ran down the hall, slamming out the front door. No Thomas. Finn needed to know the truth. Once he had that, he would enjoy tearing the fucker’s throat out.

  “Finn?” Harry followed him onto the front porch. “You okay?”

  Finn spun, staring at him. “Yeah,” he managed, ignoring his rage and pain and fear. “But I need you to do something for me. No questions.”

  Harry frowned. “I don’t work for you, Mr. Dean—”

  Finn shook his head, running his hand through his head. “Harry, please don’t push me right now.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Harry asked. “I appreciate you giving my sister a promotion. I do. We need the money. But I’m starting to get a different vibe. What, exactly, are you paying her for? Because, as big and powerful and rich as you are, Jessa’s my sister, and it’s my job to protect her.”

  Finn deflated. “I love your sister, Harry. She’s everything to me. And protecting her is exactly what I’m trying to do.”

  Harry blinked, crossing his arms over his chest. “She needs protecting?”

  He nodded, glancing at his watch. Where was Mal? Maybe he was tracking Thomas? He could hope. He leaned forward, waving at Gentry. “In a few minutes, an SUV will be here. From now on I need your word that you will not go out alone, no matter what, no questions asked.”

  “Dude, finals are in a few weeks—”

  “I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t serious, Harry. I’ll make sure you don’t get penalized for this.” He paced the porch, unwilling to leave Harry unprotected. Thomas was messing with him, getting in his head. It was an ef
fective way to torment his enemy.

  “You can do that? Just like that?” Harry asked.

  “Money can do just about anything, Harry, except keep you safe.” He stared at the young man, recognizing the way his forehead furrowed—just like Jessa.

  “Safe?” Harry asked.

  Finn nodded.

  Harry sighed. “Shit.”

  A car pulled up and Gentry got out. Finn met him on the curb, hoping to keep Harry as clueless as possible.

  “Mal tailing him?” Finn asked.

  Gentry nodded. “He went out the back window. Mal was almost on him at the corner. I would have taken the shot but Mal was in the way.”

  Finn swallowed down his frustration. “Take the Talbots to my apartment. Extra security, lock-down until I figure out where to send them.” He pulled out his phone. “I need to contact Brown.”

  Gentry nodded.

  Brown’s phone rang and rang, ratcheting his unease up to full blown panic. Had he been played, lured from Jessa, leaving her vulnerable? He didn’t want to believe it. But his wolf wanted blood.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jessa had been in and out of consciousness for some time. The rhythmic spin of the wheels, the low hum of the engine, lulled her back into the dark. But the occasional bump or stop jolted her awake, bracing, waiting for someone to come get her. Then what? Cyrus’s words offered some sort of comfort—if he honored them. But being kept prisoner until her baby was born… It was a good thing she was too scared to cry, or she’d have made herself sick.

  She tried not to think about Brown. Or her brothers. Or Oscar. Or Finn. She tried to focus on staying calm. She needed to be strong for the baby in her belly. Finn’s baby. A wolf, strong and proud, loyal and fierce.

  She had no idea how long they’d been driving, only that her left arm was completely numb from being pinned beneath her. Her back stung. Her body throbbed, the bag over her head stuck to her temple, sealing in the heat, sweat, and smell of her own blood.

  The car went over several bumps, slowing considerably. She heard voices and a door opening, but the engine was still running. What now?

  Cold air. The car door was open. She pushed away, trying to press herself into the other side of the car. But that door opened too and a huge hand encircled her upper arm and tugged her from the car. She stumbled, uncertain in the darkness that still covered her.