by Tyler, J. D.
He’d saved his mate, but the cost had been great. Not just for him, but the entire team. Nick would probably fire him for what he’d done. But the memory of holding Kira’s broken body shook him, and he knew he wouldn’t change what he’d done.
Underneath him, she shifted, and he did, too. Big blue eyes gazed up at him, confused and worried. “Why did you stop me? I could’ve saved him,” she whispered.
Tears escaped to stream down his face. He couldn’t have stopped them if he tried. “I know you could have. You did.”
“What?”
“You saved Aric, but Beryl pushed you from the helicopter,” he choked. “You fell to your death.”
Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “Are you kidding?”
“I wish I were. I’ll never forget it as long as I live.” Scooping her into his arms, he crushed her against his chest. He was barely aware of himself, Kira, and Ryon being joined on the roof by the rest of his team.
“I think I remember falling,” his mate said after a few moments. “It’s like a dream.”
“A bad one.”
He wasn’t sure how long he’d held her when suddenly clothing appeared on him and Kira. Looking up, he saw Kalen standing nearby with a faint smile on his lips.
“You guys were blinding me,” he said.
He gave a hollow laugh. “Thanks, Sorcerer.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“I don’t suppose you could flash that helicopter back here?”
Regret etched his face. “I’m sorry, man. I tried to perform a grounding spell, but it got away before I could get a good grip on it.”
Jax stood and helped his mate up, limping a bit on his bad leg. He’d have to get the wound checked out. Later. “That’s all right. It’s my fault those sons of bitches got away with Aric. I take full responsibility.”
He drew her into his side, unable to let go. Not now, maybe never. How was it possible for a man to be so elated, yet completely consumed with guilt? Whatever happened to Aric was on his head.
To have his mate alive and healthy, he would pay whatever price the future held.
“Is everyone else okay?” he asked Kalen.
The Sorcerer nodded. “A little beat up, but healing.”
“That’s good.”
Nick walked over, his expression unreadable. “We’ll talk at the compound.” His gaze flicked to Kira. “I’m glad you’re all right.”
“Thanks to my mate.”
“Yes.” Their boss was silent for a moment. “Let’s finish our sweep, make sure there are no captives here, and get out.”
They finished their jobs, speaking very little. The others knew what he’d done, remembered more than Kira did. He could tell by the solemn stares directed his way. They’d never begrudge him his mate’s life, but they were all sick about Aric.
No captives were found, nor was there any scent of Micah or any other shifters in the lab or holding areas. The computer hard drives contained no information they could use. The entire scene that Zan and Kalen had observed, with Bowman, Chappell, Beryl, and their henchmen moving crates and equipment into this building had been a ruse. A setup from start to finish to trap them.
Weary, the team began the long trek home, made interminable by the loss of one of their own. By the time they reached the compound, dawn had broken. They dragged themselves inside and headed for their separate quarters. Jax turned to his boss and awaited his instructions, stomach churning.
“You going to give me walking papers?”
Nick sighed. “I don’t know. You two get some rest and I’ll see you in my office this afternoon.” He left them standing there, staring after him.
“Come on, handsome.” Kira tugged on his hand. “Let’s go.”
He let her lead him to their apartment, pull him inside. As they undressed, he recalled his bullet wounds and inspected them in the bathroom mirror. Just a scratch across his right butt cheek, and the wound in his bad leg was already healed. It still hurt, but he could live with it.
He had his mate.
They brushed their teeth and then he turned on the shower. He let the water get hot and then pulled her inside with him. Just held her as the spray washed away some of the terror and sadness of the past few hours.
“I couldn’t lose you,” he said hoarsely, tightening his arms around her.
“You didn’t, and you won’t have to.”
His cock filled to press against her belly. He’d almost lost her, and both the man and the wolf needed to reaffirm their connection. Reclaim their mate.
Nuzzling her, he kissed his way to her nipples, licked at the droplets streaming over them. He suckled them until she squirmed, tugging at his wet hair. He straightened and a small hand found his sac, fingers manipulating him. Driving him insane.
“I can’t wait, baby. I need to be inside you.”
“Then don’t wait,” she urged breathlessly. “Fuck me.”
Holding her around the waist, he lifted her and pinned her back against the tile. “Hang on.”
She clung to his shoulders, legs going around his middle, and he positioned the head of his throbbing length to her opening. Pushed slowly inside and impaled her, inch by inch.
“Oh, God! That’s so good,” she praised. “More.”
He gave her all of him, supporting her with his hands cupped under her bottom. Began to thrust, loving the feel of her slick heat massaging his cock. Again and again he drove into her, knowing this wouldn’t last long.
When she shuddered around him, crying out, he went over the edge. Pumped himself deep inside, giving her all of him. This was where he belonged.
“I love you, Kira.”
“I love you, too. So much.”
He drew back to see tears in her eyes, and wiped them away. “Don’t cry, angel.” Carefully, he pulled out and set her down.
“I can’t help it. You saved me, and now Aric—”
“Shhh. I wouldn’t change what I did even if I could. We’ll find him. In the meantime we’ll move forward and live all those perfect moments, just like we planned.”
“And the not so perfect ones.”
“Those, too.” Drying them both off, he carried her straight to bed and held her close.
“Hey, I just realized I lost the bet,” she said, voice drowsy.
“What bet?”
“I didn’t get Raven or Belial rehabbed within the month. Now I have to wash the whole team’s dirty laundry.”
She sounded so mournful, he chuckled. “I never told the others about that, you know. I think we can let it slide.”
“Yeah?”
“Absolutely. Sleep, baby.”
She drifted off, but slumber eluded him. Instead, he simply enjoyed her warm body tucked into his. Cherished the fact that she was here, whole and healthy. He wouldn’t waste this second chance. He owed that to her.
And to Aric.
Nick was waiting when Jax walked into his office several hours later.
“Take a seat.”
He did, certain the ax was about to fall. “I’ll have my stuff cleared out and Kira and I will be gone by tonight.”
His boss arched a brow. “Just like that?”
“Yes. It’s what I deserve.”
“Really? You think you deserve to run from the consequences of your actions? You think your team deserves to have you desert them just when they need you the most?”
Jax sat back, stunned. “Well, no. But I don’t understand how you can go easy on me after I chose Kira over one of my own brothers.”
“Is that what you think? That I’m going easy?” Nick smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “No, Jax. You’ll stay here and do your part on this team. You’ll help us win the war against Chappell and find out who’s backing him. And you’ll help us locate Aric, Micah, and anyone else they’ve gotten their dirty hands on, and bring them home. That’s your mission. Is that understood?”
He swallowed hard. “Yes, sir. I won’t let any of you down again.”
“You didn’t let us down with your choice to save your mate,” Nick said softly. “Everyone understands, even me. Especially me. But actions have consequences, sometimes far-reaching ones.”
“Have I completely screwed up the future, put us in even more danger?” He dreaded the answer. But it wasn’t what he expected.
“No man should be cursed with knowing what the future will bring, or how the endless array of choices made every second affects the possible outcomes. Those choices are like balls striking one another on a pool table—you know?”
“I—I think so.”
“Each choice affects another. A single deed or whispered word can topple an empire . . . Or save a loved one. All we can do is weigh the risks and rewards, and move on. That’s all any man can do, and for all your abilities, you’re still a man at heart. Nothing more.”
His words humbled Jax. He hung his head for a moment, thinking. Then he looked at his boss, and friend. “I can’t help but feel like we failed.”
“No,” he said firmly. “We learned what Chappell and his partners are up to, and we learned Beryl is alive and is one of them. We rescued two shifters and we’re going to liberate more, including our own. We’re on the trail of our enemies, and we’re going to win.”
“If we make the right moves.”
“Of course.”
Jax knew Nick wouldn’t reveal more. He stood, offered his hand, which his boss shook. “I won’t let you down,” he repeated. “Or my team.”
“I know. Now go find that mate of yours.” He released his grip. “Tonight we rest. Tomorrow we’ll regroup.”
“And kick some ass.”
Nick laughed. “That’s the plan.”
Jax walked out of his boss’s office feeling optimistic. Chappell and whoever were pulling the strings might have won the battle, but they weren’t going to win the war.
“Hold on, old friend,” Jax said. “We’re coming for you. Count on it.”
With new purpose in his stride, he went to find his mate.
His heart and soul.
Aric awoke slowly, head pounding. His brain felt stuffed with cotton, and his entire body ached. Where the fuck was he?
He tried to move, only to find he was chained against something solid, maybe a wall, arms and legs spread wide.
And he was naked as the day he’d been born.
From the shadows, a tall slender figure emerged. A woman with long hair a darker shade of red than his own. She was dressed in black slacks and a skimpy top that left little to the imagination.
“Beryl, you bitch,” he hissed.
Her laugh sparkled with amusement. “Is that any way to speak to your sister?”
His voice was cold. “I don’t claim you. I never have.”
“Is that why you never told your sexy friend Jax the truth? I wonder how your team will react to your betrayal,” she mused aloud. The prospect apparently pleased her. A lot.
“I didn’t betray them. I thought Jax was happy, and despite what a skank I know you are, I didn’t want to interfere. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“No, you won’t get the chance.” Too late, he saw the knife in her hand, glowing red from being placed in the fire.
“Scream, dear brother.”
As she pressed the hot blade into his side, he promised himself he wouldn’t. But half an hour later, he failed, screaming until his voice broke. Until consciousness began to fade.
Ryon? Someone, find me, he begged. Even though I don’t deserve it.
Please find me.
Blessedly, the knife, Beryl, and the horror faded to nothing.
Read on for an exciting preview of
SAVAGE AWAKENING,
an Alpha Pack novel by J. D. Tyler Coming from Signet Eclipse in April 2012.
Rowan Chase jerked the wheel in a hard left, brought the car skidding to a stop in the filthy, garbagestrewn alley between two run-down buildings, killed the ignition and was out before her rookie partner, Daniel Albright, even got his seat belt unbuckled.
One glance at the situation told her things had already gone FUBAR.
A crowd of about twenty Hispanic men of varying ages surrounded two who were rolling on the ground, the edgy group shouting obscenities, egging on the fight. Quickly, her brain assessed the struggling pair, taking in the information, rapid-fire. One stocky male, six feet, about two hundred twenty pounds. The smaller one younger, slender, five-seven, about one sixty. The younger man was Emilio Herrera. Both wore the East Side Lobos’ colors. Family fight. Over what? Drugs, a girl, or some imagined slur? Who knew?
Sunlight glinted off a sliver of metal between the combatants, and blood blossomed on the smaller guy’s shirt. Knife. Shit. Rowan unclipped her holster as she jogged toward them, adrenaline rushing through her veins.
“LAPD!” she shouted, her pistol clearing leather. “Break it the fuck up!”
“Get back! Give us some room!” Danny bellowed.
Danny was green but he was a good officer. She trusted him to control the agitated crowd while she dealt with the fight, and trust was imperative. A second unit was on the way, but that didn’t mean it would arrive in time to prevent disaster.
The pair was oblivious at first, the young man completely focused on defending himself against his assailant. The stocky man was clearly the aggressor, his rage palpable. He was the one she needed to reach.
“I said break it up! Now!”
Switchblade in his meaty fist, straddling the younger man, the stocky one turned his head to glance at her, a snarl on his face. She sucked in a breath, recognizing him. Luis Garcia. She should’ve known. He was a dangerous bastard with a long rap sheet full of violence. Worse, he was unpredictable, his mind fried from a lifetime of drug abuse.
“Little puta stole my shit,” he slurred, spittle flying.
“I didn’t!” Emilio cried, holding up his hands. “I don’t do the powder—you know that! La familia knows that!”
“You took it and I’m gonna gut you like a—”
“No, you’re not,” Rowan ordered, using her most authoritative voice. She held her pistol at her side, pointed at the asphalt. “Put the blade down and come talk to me. We’ll sort it out.”
“Shut up, lesbiana. You think you have bigger cojones than Luis, sí? Perhaps you do.” He gave a nasty laugh.
Rowan let the insult roll off her. She’d been called worse. “Emilio is telling the truth, Garcia. I know him, and I swear to you he wouldn’t take your blow.” Now, your car? He’d steal that in a heartbeat, but not your coke. “I wouldn’t lie to my own people. Put the knife down.”
To her right, the Lobos’ leader pushed through the crowd, apparently late on the scene. Salazar Romero was tall, muscular, and menacing, with long black hair and a soul patch, arms covered with tats. “Don’t be stupid. Listen to mamacita, Luis. She’s street. One of us—you feel me? Her word is good enough for me, so it’s good enough for the Lobos.”
Finally, a break in the ice. The bigger man visibly wavered, his grip on his quarry loosening. He tried to stare down Salazar, but looked away first, like the dog he was. But that didn’t mean the danger was over. Rowan’s stance remained tense as Garcia let the knife fall from his hand, let go of Emilio’s shirt.
“Climb off him and stand,” she directed. “Slowly.”
Garcia let go a string of muttered curses, but did as he was told. On his feet, he stepped away from the bleeding man and turned toward her, shaking his head. Still cursing. Gesturing and swinging his arms as he became more agitated. She didn’t like his body language. The man was going to lose it again.
“Kneel, hands behind your head.”
His head snapped up. “You said we was gonna talk!”
“First, kneel, hands be—”
“Fuck you, bitch!”
Rowan knew what Garcia was going to do, even as he dropped his right arm, reached behind him to grab something at the small of his back. She reacted a split second faster, brought up her weapon and l
eveled it at his chest, shouting, “Drop it!”
But he brought the gun around, swung the muzzle toward her, his intent clear. She was hardly aware of her finger depressing trigger, and the deafening explosion was over before her brain registered the noise.
Garcia jerked backward, eyes widening in surprise. A bloom of scarlet began to spread across his chest as his knees buckled and he crumpled to the ground. Weapon still trained on his fallen form, she walked over and kicked the man’s gun from reach of his outstretched hand. Wary, she crouched next to his head and placed two fingers on his neck.
“Dead?” Danny asked.
“Yeah.” She heaved a shaky breath and stood, surveying the few people that were left.
Most of them had gotten the hell out of there when Garcia drew down and his act of stupidity proved fatal. Emilio was still sitting a few feet away, a hand pressed to his bloodied side, grimacing in pain. Salazar and a couple of his lieutenants were with him, praising the kid for facing down crazy Garcia, as though the kid had taken him out himself. The little car thief’s street cred had just risen substantially, along with plenty of temptation for a rival gang to add him to their hit list.
And the cycle never ended.
Rowan holstered her weapon, feeling sick. Oh, God. I killed one of my own. Right here on my home turf, among the people I’m supposed to keep safe. Could I have handled this differently? How?
“Chase!”
Startled, she blinked at Danny, who was right in her face, hand on her shoulder. “What?”
“Whatever shit is going through your head right now, stop,” he said in a low voice. “You gave him every chance to give up. Hell, you almost waited a hair too long to draw down and pull the trigger. It was a righteous shooting. No one is going to dispute that.”
“The baby cop is right, mamacita,” Salazar said in a loud voice. “Luis was broken, man. He acted on his own to jump Emilio, and the Lobos wash their hands of him. There will be no retribution.”
Broken, meaning Salazar had recently demoted him. She supposed she should have felt relieved that Luis had already become a problem they wanted erased, or her east side upbringing might not have meant squat. Suddenly aware of several sets of eyes boring into her, studying her reaction, she clamped her mouth firmly shut and gave a curt nod.