by D. Fischer
“I’d put money down that she gained a few extra wolves from the Gray Pack,” Bre growls.
Kenna snarls, her face hardening. “I’m fucking done with that bitch.” She begins stomping her way to the house. It is more of a waddle with heavy footfalls. “If I have to do this myself, I’ll make sure that girl is sent straight to the flames of hell. She can take it up with the devil himself.”
I need to think of something. No . . . I have to do something. No more deaths will fall on my shoulders. I begin to form a plan.
Kenna takes a step up on the stairs and stops.
“Kenna?” Evo asks after a moment.
Kenna looks down. “I– I think I just peed myself.”
“Shit,” I curse, that word rarely leaving my mouth. My heart sinks to my toes as the beginning of forming my plan must be put on hold. “Bre, call Jacob and have him send Reese.”
Bre pulls her phone from her pocket, her fingers quickly swiping across the surface and placing the phone to her ear.
Evo rushes over, the rest of the Pack—except Flint, who is still wordlessly kneeling next to Dyson—follows him, confused expressions on their faces. Evo looks at the wetness forming around Kenna’s nightgown. “What? What’s going on?” he asks.
“Her water broke,” I say, helping Kenna with the next two steps and leading her into the house. We stop at the door frame and she grips the door handle, bending over with pain in her eyes.
“Holy shit,” Kenna grunts, clutching her stomach.
“Is that a contraction?” Bre asks, joining us. Her voice is less excited than a normal ‘aunt-to-be’ would be. The death of a Pack mate taking this cherishable moment right out from under them.
“Yes,” I say patiently as I wait for Kenna to stand upright, rubbing her back soothingly.
Darla squeezes past us and points to the stairs. “To their bedroom?”
I nod my head and she takes hurried steps up the stairs to prep. She’s had two kids of her own—I have faith that she knows what she is doing.
Kat taps me on the shoulder. “I’m going to head home,” she mumbles.
“Can you wait? For just a minute?” I ask and Kat nods, crossing her arms over her chest. I turn to Evo. “Will you carry her up the stairs? Bre, can you help Darla?”
Both dutifully take their tasks in stride and disappear. I peek outside the door, Flint now holding Dyson’s hand. My heart breaks for him and the Pack, but I have a plan that needs to be implemented. Jazz won’t stop until she gets what she wants.
I grab Kat’s hand and lead her to the kitchen. I suddenly stop and she nearly knocks into me. “What are you?” I ask as soon as I turn to face her.
She frowns. “What do you mean?” She places her hand over my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
I swat her hand away. “Kat . . . I’ve never seen a witch with such strong capabilities. And your eyes had a fiery ring around the rims.” I mimic a circular motion around my irises. “And you had a ball of flames in your hand!” My voice raises.
She remains silent, chewing on the inside of her lip.
I take a deep breath, trying to ease my tense emotions. “Is this why you no longer have a Coven?”
She shrugs, her teeth freeing her lip. “Yes. But I can’t talk about it. Not right now.”
I growl as I search her eyes. Her sincerity pleads with me to understand. I sigh and rake a hand through my hair before nodding. Secrets you can’t discuss is something I’m privy to. Except, this time, I’m going to share my secret with her . . . because I have no choice.
I did this. It’s my job to make it right. It may be my brother’s life on the line, but my choice is simple. Sacrifice one and save many, or save the one and doom many. In the light of day, in this very moment, the choice is clear . . . and I may not survive it. That’s something I can live with.
“I need your help,” I declare, my words rushing out of my mouth. Time is precious.
Flint Rockland
Sliding the back of my hands across the blades of grass, I push them under Dyson’s body and lift. His head falls back at an odd angle, his mouth hangs agape as his lifeless eyes continue to watch the sky.
I stare at him, my cheeks wet, and I take the steps up the porch and enter the house. Smells, lights, textures, and sounds seem more surreal than they were before.
I head to the last remaining guest room just off the living room and place him on the bed. Hushed voices can be heard through the house along with Kenna’s moans as she hits another contraction. I block them out, my focus on my lost friend.
My friend, my Pack mate, . . . my wolf grieves inside me. I lay him on the bed and cross his arms over his chest. A sob escapes me as I close his eyes with shaky fingers.
“I love you, too, man,” I whisper, the lump in my throat making my voice harsh.
I stare at him a few minutes longer. The front door closes, taking me from my memories. I exit the room and wipe my face with the bottom of my shirt.
Taking a deep breath, I search out my Alphas and climb the stairs. My footsteps are loud in such a quiet house. The chatter from the kitchen is gone, but I can hear Kenna curse from their bedroom. I figure Irene will be in there, tending to Kenna’s needs. I need my mate, even if she’s busy. Her presence will be enough.
I knock on the door before stepping inside. Darla is holding Kenna’s hand while Evo sits behind her on the bed, his hands rubbing her lower back.
Bre walks over to me, fresh tears staining her blushed cheeks, and gives me a hug. Kenna’s hair whips out of her sweaty face as she glances at the door. Her eyes narrow as she breaths heavily. “Where’s Irene?” she growls.
I frown and glance around the room. “Where is she?” I repeat.
Bre removes her arms from around me, the same frown distorting her features. “She told me to call Jacob for Reese, which I did, but I haven’t seen her since. I thought she was downstairs with you and . . .” her voice trails off as her eyes slide to the floor. Her grief is thick at the thought of our fallen Pack mate. A tear slips down her cheek, drips from her jaw, and disappears into the carpet.
I shake my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “She’s not downstairs.”
Evo glances up at me. “Never mind that. She’ll turn up—she probably needed a breather. It’s been a bad day for everyone.”
Kenna growls. Her eyes are hard, masked behind closed doors as she blocks off her emotions. “We seem to be a fucking lightning rod for those.”
Evo glances at her before returning his eyes to mine. “Ben and Romaine are starting the interrogation. Would you mind assisting them?”
I nod once. The vampires brought my dead friend to our doorstep. Time to return the favor.
Anger replaces my sorrow and I leave the Alphas’ quarters, back into the quiet night. The dew is setting in, it’s well into the wee hours of the morning. A stick snaps under my foot as I make my way to the garage with purpose in my step.
I wipe my face with the palm of my hand once more before I place it on the handle of the side door to the garage. I pause, hearing the crunch of gravel just as Reese’s car pulls into the driveway. Lingering by the door for a moment, I point my finger to the main house when she waves at me. She gives a curt nod and climbs out of her car. She still wears her scrubs from work.
I step inside the garage, the dim light comforting to my swollen eyes. Ben, Romaine, and the vampire turn their eyes to me as I enter, my shoes padding across the cement. I glance at the car Irene and I drove in for our date—a happier, less complicated time just before my eyes zoom in on the vampire. Black veins are visible under his skin. His eyes are as red as the blood he drinks. He looks . . . civil. His pointed fangs seem less threatening when he doesn’t hiss.
My eyes travel down to his folded hands in his lap. “Why the hell isn’t he shackled?” I growl.
Ben and Romaine, who sit in lawn chairs across from him, stand up. Ben holds his hand out. “He’s not a threat. He’s willing to give information.” Ben’
s eyes search my face. “What happened to you?”
I stop just in front of him. “Dyson is dead.”
His frown falls, the features relaxing as his eyes grow wide. “What happened?” he barks.
“Your little vampire’s friends dropped him on the door step,” I say to the vampire in the chair.
The vampire’s eyes grow wide as the three of us turn back to him. He holds up his hands, palms facing us. “Let me explain.”
“You better get to it,” Ben growls, his fist clenching.
The vampire’s red eyes wildly flit between us. “She killed him.”
Romaine grabs his shirt by the collar and yanks him to him. A stirring of his stench reaches my nose. “Who is she?”
“The One.”
Ben balls his fists into a tighter not. “I’m so sick of hearing about someone who calls themselves The One. Who is this person?”
The vampire stutters before spitting out words. “I don’t know her name. She called the Vampiress of our Hive. She paid us a wealthy fee to stop by here . . . ” his voice trails off, his eyes going to the floor. “She’s going to be so mad when I’m the only one to return.”
‘Paid a wealthy fee,’ echoes in my head. The money in the safe . . .
If I have anything to say about it, he won’t be leaving the spot he stands on.
“What does she look like?” I ask, the anger barely contained in my voice as my eyes glow. I already know the answer. The discussion my Pack had earlier around Dyson’s body makes this easier to connect the dots.
“I only saw her the once. Blond hair, huge shoes, loads of sparkly crap on her wrists.”
Romaine cocks his head. “You mean jewelry?”
The vampire bobs his head and Romaine shoves him back into the seat before turning to Ben and me. “She used to visit the Gray Pack.”
“It’s Jazz,” I mumble.
Ben gives a curt nod. “I have no doubt.”
I turn back to the vampire. “Why did the Rogues kill him?”
The vampire frowns as if we should have already suspected the answer. “Because he was of no use to her anymore.”
My nails dig into my palms. “What do you mean?”
He shrugs. “I wasn’t informed.”
Then it hit me. Dyson’s last words repeat in my head as Ben growls and demands more answers for the vampire. Their voices sound muffled, like they are underwater, as I revisit the memory again.
I love you, man. Treat your mate right, okay? Don’t waste a moment with her.
“He was saying goodbye,” I whisper, staring over the top of the vampire’s head and seeing nothing but Dyson walking off to the garage for his errand.
Three sets of eyes land on me.
“What?” Romaine asks.
“Dyson. The last thing he said to me. I thought it was odd at the time . . . but he was saying goodbye.”
Ben frowns. “How could he possibly know he was going to die tonight?”
The vampire purses his lips over his fangs. “Perhaps your friend was a double crosser.”
The three of us remain silent. More information pops into my head.
After George broke my leg, my wolf shifted. They separated us. In my absence, did Dyson compromise with George to work it out? So that we’d live?
Dyson’s hygiene had declined since I was able to shift back. He avoided the Pack. His voice breaks into my head—memories of the past weeks.
I was trying to keep you alive.
Just remember, Flint, you’re not the only one who suffers.
Not a whole lot. Research. A lot of video games, I guess. Trying to get right with myself.
Actually, I have an errand to run, but I’ll be back.
I love you, man.
“He did it to save my life.” I scrub my face and plop into a lawn chair, disgusted with myself.
I don’t know what sort of information he was feeding Jazz. He saved my life and in the end, sacrificed his own.
Ben puts a comforting hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “That’s not all we’ve discovered tonight, Flint.”
I glance up at him.
He continues with reluctance, “Our little friend here,” he nods at the vampire, “said your mate has been a busy girl. One of his own was ordered to deliver a message. A message to do as she’s told or our Pack falls.”
The vampire shakes his head. “No, no, no. That wasn’t the message. It was, ‘bring the baby or the Pack dies.’” He narrows his red eyes at Ben.
My heart skips a beat, denial thick in my veins as it continues to pump. “No.” I shake my head. “Irene wouldn’t be teaming up with Jazz.”
The vampire giggles. “Oh, but she would. She did. She has.”
I stare at him, the sounds of voices once again are blocked out. My jaw ticks, but the rest of my face remains relaxed. I ball my fist as my claw expands. My eyes glow. Ben gives a warning, but I don’t listen.
Quick as a flash, I bury my clawed fingers into his chest, the sound like a boom of thunder as it breaks through skin and bone. It feels just like the last heart—thick, slimy, heavy. I squeeze his heart to dust before I can pull it out. The vampire’s giggle is cut off, his eyes wide before he dusts on the chair. A pile of tiny black particles where he once sat.
I stare at the pile. Every feeling I have is raw and exposed before my body tries shutting it off, making me feel nothing. I smother that void of emotion, forcing myself to feel every single one. I refuse to back down from them.
“You going to be okay, Flint?” Romaine asks, bending in front of me and trying to make eye contact.
“Where’s Irene?” Ben mumbles, his deadly voice chilling my bones.
ChapterTwelve
Irene Scott
I park my car where the greasy blond, Luke, always parked. Funny—twice before, I was a hostage. Now, I’m a willing victim, sacrificing my life, and possibly my brother’s, in an effort save my mate, his Pack, and the newborn that will surely soon arrive.
The territory wasn’t hard to find. A quick peek inside Dyson’s quarters and the information was instilled in my brain, frozen, like a map burned behind my eyelids.
Before, I worried about Flint dying, about my friends. I never thought I’d be the one to succumb to that fate.
I take the keys from the ignition and jingle them in my hand. What do I do with them? I suppose it doesn’t matter.
Irene? Where are you? Ben just called, said you’ve gone off the radar, Jacob growls inside my head.
I close my eyes and my heart breaks for what I need to do. The choice I must make crumbles it to pieces.
There’s this moment . . . it exists outside of time, outside of your own body . . . and the difficult choices become easy. Every choice and decision you make has a price, a ripple effect. The decisions to be made are simple, even if that means cutting out tiny pieces of the things that make you, you, in an effort for the greater good. The ultimate sacrifice. The path becomes visible and you bolt down it without a backward glance.
I’m about to make a deal with the devil and watch her dance around her fires as they consume me. The choices I’ve made have brought me here. And even then, while I reside in the effects of these choices, I’ll know with certainty that I made the right call. I can take comfort in that. I’ll make a deal with that devil, in hopes her torment stops with me—that the ripples meet the borders of the pond. I’ll accept what comes with my last breath.
Irene? Jacob tries again, a little softer.
I close my eyes and sever my link to my Pack. An invisible band inside my head snaps as I break the connection to my Alpha . . . to my loved ones . . . to my friends. My wolf stills inside me, the disconnect painful. She howls, angry with my choice and this situation. She has no Pack. We have no Pack. But it doesn’t matter. Not for much longer.
I place my keys in the cup holder and glance around. My heart aches, but I ignore it.
A swarm of Rogue wolves exit the shed like an army of ants and I step out of the car. They’re
fully dressed. It would seem they were expecting company.
Naturally, Zane reaches me first and grips my arm, twists it behind my back, and slams me into the side of my car. I wince at the pain to my face—a bruise will surely form there.
Jazz comes into my view, her scowl matching those around her. She stops and stares at me. “Go. Make sure she’s alone,” she says to no one in particular. Several wolves melt away, jogging off to investigate.
She crosses her arms, a smirk replacing her scowl. “Did you get my little present?”
My eyes glow wolf. “The dead Pack mate or the hoard of vampires? You’ll have to be more specific because each of those were surprise-worthy.”
She waves a hand in the air. “The dead wolf, of course. The vampires were just for fun. I had to get the dead body on the territory without detection, you know.”
I growl, my bruised cheek vibrating against the metal of the car. “Mission accomplished.”
She giggles like a teenager whose daddy just bought her a brand-new car. “Good.” She looks inside my car. “Where’s the baby?”
“Not here,” I comment dryly.
Jazz clucks her tongue. “That’s unfortunate. Before dear Dyson lost his life, he shared some information. I should be congratulating you on finding your mate. But . . . that sort of acknowledgment would hold no meaning coming from me.”
My heart breaks again. Flint, his smiling face, flashes before my eyes.
Jazz continues, her voice so sickly sweet it raises goosebumps on my arms, “I don’t think we’ll need that baby, after all.”
I glare, my eyes still glowing wolf and reflecting off the paint of my car.
She leans against the car and gazes at the stars. “Now that we have you, the mate to a Cloven Pack member, they’ll surely come for you.” Her gaze turns deadly before her eyes lower to mine. “I don’t plan to let you live long enough to witness it,” she adds, each word clipped and dipped with malicious intent.
She nods her head at Zane. He yanks me from the car and shoves me toward the shed, my fate in his hands, my plan working with perfection.