Dire Desires_A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan

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Dire Desires_A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan Page 18

by Stephanie Tyler


  He turned to her. “The weretrappers are back.”

  She clung to his side as she shifted. He bent down to look at her wolf. “Sister, you run. Don’t look back, don’t shift back. Go as fast as you can toward the house—I’ll be right behind you. But you’ll get there faster. Go get help.”

  Sister Wolf listened, took off at a dead run in the direction of the house while he ran behind her. He needed to be able to fight and if the weretrappers tried to tranq him, it would be far worse on him if he was in wolf form when they did so. They had drugs that they experimented with that were rumored to keep wolves in wolf form forever, and for Jinx, the idea of Brother living like that was too much.

  He caught sight of Gillian far ahead of him as the tranq darts whizzed by him. There must also be trappers stationed ahead of them, prepared to drive them back into the woods. He passed several drugged Weres—the ones who were supposed to be helping guard the Dires—before he felt the hits.

  Gillian was still moving. Her new wolf’s metabolism was running high and she was able to do as he asked. He was hit three times to her single time, and the last thing he remembered was seeing her continuing to run as he collapsed.

  Don’t come back for me was his last thought.

  • • •

  She’d been hit. She’d been prepared to remain in wolf form, as Jinx had told her, but she felt her wolf’s fear of the drugs. She shifted as she ran, turning around to catch Jinx’s eye.

  It was only then she realized that Jinx was no longer behind her. Naked, dazed, drugged, she turned to look for him, knowing better than to yell his name. It was at that moment a hood went over her face and tightened around her neck. Instinctively, she grabbed to loosen it, to pull it off but her hands were yanked behind her.

  “It’s definitely Gillian,” she heard and that’s when she began to kick and yell in earnest. Even the police finding her would be better than this.

  “Relax, Gillian—we work for your parents. We’re going to bring you back someplace safe.”

  No. She bucked and kicked, felt another tranquilizer being injected, taking with her the last of her resistance. From what she’d learned about wolf metabolism, the drugs would metabolize out fast enough. She should remain still, even after they wore off, and she could give a surprise attack.

  But if she’d already been taken away, locked up where no one could find her . . . what if she had to shift again?

  Don’t panic. You’re strong, just like Jinx said. She went limp for a long moment, even though she knew it would be hard for her to pull herself back up. She heard the man carrying her curse and nearly drop her and she let him bring her close to him before slamming her head back and knocking him in what she assumed was his face with the back of her head. She heard a crack and a cry and she was dropped. She heard yells, a scuffle and she assumed it was from what she’d done. She managed to shove the hood off her face in time to see a tall, handsome man wrap his hand around one of her abductor’s necks. There was a snap and the man dropped to the ground.

  And then the tall human came toward her. The last thing she remembered before she passed out was an attempt to punch him in the face and then him picking her up and carrying her away from the van.

  • • •

  Jinx woke. Blinked. And attacked. Unfortunately, the wolf on the other end of the attack was Vice, who cursed viciously and returned the punches, even when Jinx pulled back.

  “Fuck, Vice, come on.”

  “You started it.”

  Jinx weaved backward, the drugs still wreaking havoc with his system. Vice moved forward grudgingly to catch him before he embarrassed himself by falling on his ass on the floor. “Thanks. Gillian—”

  “She’s okay. Well, drugged and unconscious, but she’ll be okay, according to Gwen,” Vice admitted. “She’s right next door.”

  Jinx pushed away to try to head that way but Vice held him fast. “Do you think you could maybe sit down for half a fucking second and get yourself together before you race away? Don’t you fucking trust me anymore?”

  “Of course I do.” Jinx’s tone came out with astonishment, especially when he realized Vice was serious. “Shit, Vice, I didn’t mean . . .”

  “Yeah, I know.” Vice studied his face. “She’s yours. I get it. And you’re going through shit and Jez is helping you. I’m helping Rogue. But you and me, are we cool?”

  “We’re cool.”

  “You’re keeping shit from me. I don’t like it.”

  “I know.” Jinx stared at his bare feet, not able to say anything more.

  “You’re going to have to tell me what it is. All of us. You need us to get you through it.”

  “I can’t, Vice. Trust me on this. I really can’t. But I’ll make it all right.”

  Vice shrugged. “If that’s the best you can do—”

  “Thank you for rescuing her.”

  “I didn’t. Not exactly. She came to when I got there, told me that some guy rescued her from men trying to shove her into a van. She didn’t remember anything, came to next to you.”

  Jinx raised his brows. “Find that guy.”

  “The twins are already on it. They wanted to wait to make sure you were okay, but I convinced them they’d do more good for you that way.”

  “They know who it was?”

  Vice shrugged, then admitted, “Cain thinks it was a hunter. And we know the hunters can’t protect her forever.”

  “They shouldn’t be protecting her at all—that’s my job,” Jinx growled.

  “Our job,” Vice corrected. “And we can use all the help we can get. One of your twins trusts one of them—it’s that fed, Angus.”

  Jinx muttered something and ran his hands through his hair. “Gillian wants to know her heritage—why she was given away or taken.”

  “Not an immediate goal.”

  Just then, Stray and Kill entered the room, with Stray turning on the TV.

  “News conference,” he said, his voice tight with anger as the screen flashed the Blackwells and a man named Joe Hinze.

  The crawl under the screen showed he was a former Green Beret working in conjunction with the family on the search. In reality, the man was a leader of the East Coast trappers—and he was no doubt behind the tranq attack of Gillian.

  “It has come to our attention that Gillian was spotted in upstate New York. She was with several men who grabbed her when she tried to come in with myself and the men helping to aid in the search,” Joe said.

  “Bullshit,” Vice muttered.

  “Agreed. And I think it’s time to start checking into Gillian’s background more seriously,” Killian said. “Stray and I overheard you guys in the woods—we know she’s got an ability.”

  Jinx shrugged. With wolf hearing, it was hard to keep anything a secret and the door had been open. “I wasn’t going to hide it.”

  “They also know you were beaten by a girl,” Vice interjected and Jinx shoved him.

  “Could be a reason they gave her away,” Stray said, but he didn’t seem convinced either. “But I don’t think they would’ve known that—not that early. And unless the Elders hid a prophecy from us . . .”

  “The Elders, screw us over? Say it isn’t so,” Killian muttered sarcastically. “Look, the Greenland pack believes in that twin curse.”

  Jinx had dealt with the fallout from that twin curse bullshit for his first twenty-one years. “So I think that’s the more likely scenario,” Killian continued. “She was hit with the double whammy—being a twin and having an ability. Which means both probably have abilities.”

  “Two sides of the same coin, like me and Rogue,” Jinx murmured.

  “Who’s going to tell her?” Vice asked and they all looked at Jinx. “Dude, I so totally nominate you.”

  “Dude, why did the eighties have to happen?” Jinx groaned. “Can’t you move past
it—come at least up to the nineties and I’ll buy you some nice flannel and Nirvana’s greatest hits.”

  “Don’t you make fun of the eighties,” Vice sniffed. “And Stray likes his hair bands.”

  Stray shrugged, because it was the truth. “Way better than grunge. And I nominate Vice to go talk to the lawyer who did the adoption for the Blackwells.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Guy’s a former Marine.”

  “Semper fi,” Vice said seriously.

  • • •

  There was no noise. The air even stilled and Angus simply froze in place as instinct took over. Good human, Cain thought to himself as he padded silently toward the man’s back.

  In seconds, Cain rolled him to the ground, his canines sharp and hovering over Angus’s neck. At least he’d had the sense to bare his neck in that show of submission that made Cain sing with pleasure, but he’d have to do this with every goddamned Were who attacked him. And, as a hunter, they would be lining up to take a shot. Killing hunters was weresport in more circles than he cared to think about.

  “Good to see you too, Cain,” Angus managed without moving a muscle. Cain leaned in, let a tooth scrape Angus’s soft flesh and he felt the man’s cock jump. He did it twice more, then licked where he’d scraped and heard the grunted intake of breath.

  Yeah, can your boyfriend do that to you? I don’t fucking think so.

  “Are you this easy for all the Weres or am I special?” he asked finally.

  “Fuck you, Cain,” Angus said, but his voice was soft, not angry. Cain pushed off him, sat back on his heels and watched Angus not bother to try to compose himself or hide how turned on he was. Instead, he propped up lazily on his elbows and stared at him, his eyelids deceptively heavy lidded and lazy-looking.

  There was nothing lazy about this man—he was the human form of a predator, and Cain wouldn’t take any chances.

  “Did you bring backup this time?” Cain asked and Angus shook his head.

  “We’re all alone. Unless you have Weres stalking me in the bushes.”

  “I do my own dirty work. Always have.”

  “So do I, Cain. Those men with me . . . we were working, but I would never bring anyone with me if I thought I’d see you.” Angus stared at him unflinchingly and Cain felt a tug in his gut.

  Cain decided to get right to the heart of the matter. “You’re really a goddamned hunter?”

  “Yeah, I really am.”

  “What the hell? Hunters are—”

  “Crazy.” Angus paused. “Like trappers and wolves. We formed to keep the peace. We look out for humans and wolves.”

  “Spare me the PR. They only accepted you because of your scars.”

  “So what? I’ve been there—on the receiving end of a Were attack. I never said all Weres were bad. But I know how this world works now, and I can’t go back to the way things were for me. I have to do something.”

  “Like avenging whoever the hunters tell you to?”

  “What the hell do you want from me?” Angus demanded, pushing off his elbows and in seconds, they were on their feet, facing one another.

  Angus was getting riled again. Good. Cain wanted him angry and pissed off and uncomfortable. Anything but indifferent. That would kill Cain. “I didn’t save you so you can get yourself killed.”

  Angus laughed then, looked up at the sky and muttered, “How is locking me up saving me?”

  “You know why I did it.”

  Angus’s stance softened slightly. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m trained. And I have backup.”

  “Wolves don’t follow your rules.”

  “They don’t have to follow any rules and when they lose it, we stop them.”

  “I’m glad you think surviving one Were attack makes you invincible,” Cain muttered. “Why did you save her?”

  Angus wasn’t surprised that Cain had figured out who had helped Gillian. “That’s what I do.”

  “A real do-gooder. Nothing to do with grabbing her to collect the five-million reward and getting caught by the weretrappers before you could bring her to her parents.”

  “I found her being shoved into a van by the weretrappers. I grabbed her and brought her straight to Jinx.”

  “Jinx doesn’t remember seeing a van.”

  “Because he was drugged and lying on the ground. I know how to make people disappear, Cain. If I had Gillian and wanted her, why would I give her back?”

  “I stopped wondering what was on your mind when you left.”

  That was like a knife, straight through Angus’s heart. “She was minding her own business. She was with Jinx—I’m assuming she’s not as dangerous as they say if the Dires are protecting her,” Angus offered.

  “You’ve really come a long way, Angus.”

  This proximity to the man was killing him. Cain’s wolf wanted to smell him, lick him, taste him. Mount him, right here in the woods and he didn’t think Angus would mind. “You’re still playing with fire, Angus. Haven’t learned your damned lesson.”

  “Maybe you should teach me,” Angus said.

  “You had your chance.” It made him ache to say that. Obviously, the fed had saved Gillian—and Jinx, in the process. “We can’t be seen together, for your sake. Just stay the hell away from the Dires and you’ll live. Take care of yourself, human.”

  He pulled himself away from Angus, who looked angry and disappointed. Cain was equally so, but he wouldn’t allow it to cloud his judgment.

  He ghosted into the woods and still managed to feel Angus’s eyes on him the entire way back to the mansion.

  Chapter 28

  Stray found a gold mine by sending Killian to break in to the Blackwells’ safety-deposit boxes. He’d gotten the name of the adoption attorney and tracked him down in a nursing home in Ohio and Vice had left several days after Jinx and Gillian were attacked, wanting to make sure that they weren’t going to need to defend themselves against an all-out trapper attack.

  Thankfully, the trappers seemed to have no clue that Gillian was a Dire—or a wolf at all, for that matter. That was the word on the street anyway, according to Cyd.

  Now, Vice had used his Marine background to get into the man’s room, claiming that he’d been trained under him. No one here batted an eye about the age difference because no one really gave a shit. Not that they expected a wolf to come in seeking information from an almost ninety-year-old man.

  Vice said he was a Marine who’d been assigned to visit vets in nursing homes and slipped the man named Walter some good scotch and a cigar. They talked about the Marines and the like, both having coincidentally served in the same battalion, just years apart. Vice didn’t bother telling Walter that he’d actually served first. Guy was confused enough by Vice’s appearance.

  But finally, Vice confessed the real reason he was there. “I’m in the PI business these days and I’m trying to help out a friend. She’s pretty desperate to find her birth mother. She needs to know about a certain medical condition. She doesn’t want to mess up the chick’s life or invade in any way. But medical records are pretty important. She was adopted by the Blackwells twenty-one years ago.”

  Walter agreed. “That’s a tough one, I know. But it was a private adoption, so the records are sealed. I don’t know how difficult of a time your friend will have with the courts. They’re more open about it today.”

  “So you remember the girl?”

  “My last case.” Walter stared off into space, like a dog hearing something in the distance and Vice bit back his impatience and sat as still as possible. Kill and Stray weren’t right for this job because they didn’t want to risk influencing an old man whose memories were in and out, depending on the day.

  Vice hoped it was a really good day.

  Finally, he snapped his fingers and Walter looked back at him like it was the f
irst time he’d seen him. “Son, you wear more jewelry than my wife used to.”

  Vice spread his hands in a what-are-you-going-to-do posture as Walter continued, “And all those tattoos? How are you ever going to get a respectable job looking like that, Marine?”

  “Heard it all before, old man. Can we move this conversation along?”

  Walter stared at him and then broke into a smile. “I like you. You’re not like those sycophant grandkids of mine who’ll say anything to get my money.”

  “Not interested in your money. Interested in an adoption you brokered twenty-one years ago, remember?”

  “Right. The twins.”

  Twins? Yeah, Stray and Killian had good instincts. “I’m talking about one girl—she went to the Blackwells. You’re saying she had a sister?”

  “Right, the rich folks. And one of the girls went there. The mother didn’t want them going to the same family. I couldn’t understand why—the Blackwells would’ve been able to take them on, no problem. But she insisted.”

  “What was her name and where is the other girl now?” he asked.

  “Ah, Vice did you say your name was? My files are all locked up in storage. Can’t fit them all here.”

  “Names, Walter. Think. Anything—first, last. City and State.”

  The old man scrunched up his face and then shook his head. “I can give you a key to the storage boxes but I can’t remember where they are.”

  “Yeah, I’ll take it. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.” He palmed the key and tried again. “Where’s the storage facility?”

  Walter scrunched his face up again. Ah shit. “Walter, what hospital were they born in?”

  “Not in this state.”

  “She had to bring you birth certificates, right?”

  “She brought enough money for me to make them,” Walter told him. “I had six kids to feed.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’ll get this key back to you.”

  “And some whiskey,” Walter whispered. “They won’t give me any in here.”

 

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