“Why would Bastian commit this alleged crime?” he asked. “Or, more specifically, why you?”
Brody stared at him. He’d kept this secret for too long—ever since he was six years old. He bore the scars of his shame on his face, for everyone to see.
But his mother loved him. She’d almost blasted her brain apart protecting him, with the same power that had harmed him all those years ago.
Maybe he’d inherited the white wolf instability. Maybe not. But his mother couldn’t help who she was, and in the end she’d done right by him.
He straightened up. “You know why,” Brody said quietly. “She’s a white wolf.”
Timber’s eyebrows went up, but the surprise didn’t ring true. He’d known—or he’d at least suspected.
“That would make you a half-breed,” Timber said.
“What’s your point?” Jasmin snarled.
Timber ignored her, keeping his gaze on Brody. “My point,” he said, “is that you did not disclose your ancestry when you applied to join this pack. The white wolf strain comes with dangerous instability, which was why Creston was working with those who study it and try to mitigate its effects on the general wolf population.”
Mitigate meaning incarcerate, dissect, and treat like a lab rat.
The entire Bad Blood Crew started growling simultaneously.
Even Timber Jenkins looked a little intimidated at that.
He added defensively, “I can’t have that instability in my pack. I can’t have someone in my pack who can’t be trusted—”
At that, the Bad Bloods stopped growling and busted out laughing, except for Jasmin and Flynn.
“Did you hear that?” Xander said. “He thinks he can trust his pack.”
Sloan went straight for the badly camouflaged cough-insult. “Backstabbers,” he coughed out.
Xander chimed in with a coughed, “Poisoners.”
Tank coughed, “Cheating fucks.”
Brody bit his lip to keep his face straight. “I’m pretty sure the only trustworthy members of this pack are in Idaho,” he said.
Timber gave a sigh, and he suddenly looked tired and weary. “You think I don’t know my father was a bastard and this pack is a train wreck? I’m doing everything I can to keep it from completely falling apart.” He turned to the lion shifter. “What do you want, Flynn?”
Flynn said, “I want you to release Brody from your pack. I want him for the Bad Bloods.”
Brody spun around, shocked. “You do?”
Flynn hadn’t given up much about his intentions on the way here, being preoccupied with questioning Bastian. Brody had figured he just wanted to stain Timber’s floor with Bastian’s blood and intimidate him into shutting down any of Creston’s other followers who were still left.
Flynn cut his briefly eyes to Brody. “Not really. I have enough unstable idiots on my hands.”
“Hey,” Lissa protested, punching Flynn’s rock-hard triceps from behind. “We’re standing right here.”
Brody felt sudden warmth spreading through him. They wanted him. They hadn’t just come for Jasmin, tonight. They’d come for him.
Flynn went on as if Lissa hadn’t spoken. “But Jaz likes him, and she gets cranky if she doesn’t get enough sex. And he chops a mean onion.”
Brody didn’t even know what to say. Emotions rushed through him. Relief. Happiness. Hope. The Bad Bloods were crazy, but they had each other’s backs. He’d never been in a pack that was that tight—that would fight and die for each other, not because they were told to, but because they cared about each other.
But Timber wasn’t done with him yet. “That’s an interesting proposition. However, despite his unfortunate heritage, Brody fills an important role in our business structure. If I let him go, what would Nashville get in return?”
Flynn stood for a moment, legs apart in an aggressive stance, grenade launcher held loosely in his hands, head cocked as if he were thinking.
“If you let him go—with a nice severance package from your HR department, by the way—in return, Nashville gets to claim to the Council that this piece of shit,” he nudged Bastian with his foot, “was acting without your knowledge or instructions, and has been dealt with by you. Severely. Which will be true, or I’ll come back and fucking deal with him myself.”
His voice grew low and threatening, and his alpha presence filled the room. “And trust me when I tell you, you don’t want that.”
He gazed at Timber. “This way, I can leave him bleeding on your floor instead of mine. Saves on all that mopping up. Oh, I also may need to borrow one of your corporate jets in the next few days. I’ll supply the pilot.”
Timber opened his mouth to object, but Flynn talked over him. “Or, I can tell the Council that Nashville broke our treaty, less than three months after making it, by going after the mate of one of my crew.”
The word ‘mate’ raised Timber’s eyebrows again, but Brody just gave him a bland look, even though he was fizzing with happiness inside. Jasmin slid her hand into his and squeezed it.
Flynn finished, “And, I’ll tell them that you were party to dealing with underground shifter hunters and sanctioned the kidnapping of an unaffiliated wolf and turning her over for illegal experimentation.”
There was a beat of silence. Timber sighed.
“Fine. You can have him. I’ll draw up the paperwork. You can come and get it on Monday, or I can fax it—”
Flynn laughed. Nobody else moved. They all just stood there, arms folded, gazing at Timber.
“Fine, I’ll do it now.”
“Better hurry,” Flynn said. “Bastian will probably still make it, but it’s getting to be a close thing.”
“Damn,” Sloan said. “He’s not dead yet? You gotta try harder next time, Brody.”
“I can finish him off for you,” Xander offered helpfully.
Flynn didn’t say anything, just gave Timber his crazy grin.
Timber tapped the intercom on his desk and gave instructions to his assistant. They all stood and waited until she brought in the paperwork. She was a petite blond, and looked terrified of the Bad Bloods.
“Hey, sweetheart,” Xander said, grinning at her through the blood caked on his face. “Looking for a mate?”
She scuttled out again.
Xander put on an offended face. “She didn’t even ask to see my dick.” He looked at Lissa. “At least you offered to take a look at it, when I asked you.”
“Tried to intimidate me, you mean,” she said. “You’re lucky I like you, or I’d kick you right now.”
Timber signed three copies of the papers, then passed them off to Brody to sign. They said that Brody was released from all obligations to the Nashville pack, and they contained a generous severance offer. With a check.
Sweet.
Flynn checked over the papers, signed, then handed one copy back to Timber, with a nice bloody thumbprint on it. He folded the other two. One he stuck in the pocket of his combat vest, and the other, with the check, he shoved into the pocket of Brody’s shirt, patting it with his palm afterwards.
“Let’s go,” he said.
As they trooped out, Flynn added, “Merry Fucking Christmas, Jaz.”
Brody grinned.
Chapter 30
When they got back to the compound, Adele was already asleep in Tristan’s old room. Brody and Jasmin went into check on her.
“How’s she doing?” he asked.
Tristan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, looking worried. “That last blast of power… I don’t know how much damage she’s done to her brain.”
Jasmin saw the heartbreak in Brody’s eyes. “She shouldn’t have had to do that,” he muttered. “Fucking Bastian.” His hand closed over Adele’s thin one. “I’m sorry, Ma,” he whispered.
Jasmin slid her arms around his shoulders and leaned her cheek on his hair, his heartbreak hurting her too. There was nothing she could say to make him feel better. All she could do was be with him.
Rac
helle, the dark-haired snake-horse woman, said, “Brody, you need to let us take her.”
Brody shook his head. “You can’t take her. She’s wanted by the Council. They’ll put her down.” He looked up at them, eyes burning. “You can’t tell them you found her.”
Rachelle and Tristan exchanged glances. Rachelle raised her eyebrows in a question.
Tristan sighed. “Your mate’s not gonna like it, Raven. You know how he is about everything being open and above-board.”
“You let me handle Kane,” she said, with a little smirk. She turned to Tristan.
“I know some people,” she said. “They have a small experimental treatment program for shifters with powers they can’t control.”
Jasmin growled deep in her throat. “They’re not experimenting on her.”
Brody shook his head. “No way.”
Rachelle put a calming hand on Jasmin’s arm. “I know what you all have been through. Jesse told me,” she said. “I’m a member of the Silverlake pack.”
“You don’t look like any wolf I’ve ever seen,” Jasmin said.
Rachelle smiled. “Nope, definitely not a wolf,” she said. Jasmin noticed she didn’t say what she was. She spoke to Brody. “I would never let what happened to Jesse, and to this crew, happen to your mother. This isn’t like that.” She exchanged another glance with Tristan. “It’s not strictly legal, but no one is harmed. I can swear to that.”
Brody bit his lips. “I’m supposed to take care of her,” he said. “I can’t just send her away.”
Jasmin sat on the bed beside him and took his chin, turning his head so he looked into her eyes. “You did everything you could for her, babe,” she said. “More than anyone could have ever expected. But you can’t help her any more. If there’s someone who might be able to, don’t you owe it to her to try?”
She added, “Tris is one of us. If he’s willing to vouch for Rachelle and her people, then you can trust them.”
Brody took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and then let it out. “Okay,” he said finally. “Okay.”
Tristan gripped his shoulder in approval, and Rachelle smiled. “You’ll be able to come and visit her,” she said. “But I think we should get her there right away.” She turned to Tristan. “Did I hear something about a private plane?”
Lissa ended up having her Waltons Christmas after all. Or at least, as close to it as the Bad Bloods were likely to come.
On Christmas Eve day, they saw Brody’s mother off on Timber Jenkins’ private jet, heading out to meet Rachelle’s contacts. Rachelle and Tristan went with her, Tristan promising to come back soon for a visit.
Then Lissa insisted that she and Tank had to take Brody and Jasmin shopping.
“I know for a fact you haven’t bought any Christmas presents at all,” she said to Jasmin. “And there will be no Grinching at my tree, or blood will be spilled.”
“Merry Fucking Christmas,” Xander muttered in passing.
Jasmin had never bought a Christmas present, so this year was no different. “I’m cooking,” she complained. “Isn’t that enough?”
Lissa just gave her the slitty-eyed glare.
But once at the mall, she had to admit the shopping trip was a good idea. Buying presents seemed to take Brody’s mind off his mother. He helped Jasmin pick out presents for everyone, declaring they’d be from both of them, and he seemed easier with himself afterward, as if he’d reconciled himself to giving up the care of Adele to someone else.
Christmas day was sunny and clear, the light sparkling off the snow and making everything look like a Christmas card. Flynn made his special pancakes, with brandy sauce, and after breakfast Lissa danced around like a demented elf, putting Santa hats on people’s heads.
Xander batted her hand away. “Forget it, Christmas Nazi Bear,” he said. “The only way you’ll ever get a Santa hat on my head is if you put it on me in my coffin, after I’m dead. And even then, I’ll come back to haunt you.”
“No brawling on Christmas,” Tank bellowed from the kitchen.
“Presents,” Sloan called, doing a baseball slide to the foot of the tree and rattling boxes. “Who’s first?”
They gathered around the tree, opening gifts. There were silly presents and useful presents, and a crap-ton of alcoholic presents. Lissa had way too many gifts, because Tank couldn’t stop buying her things, but everyone had something. Jasmin and Brody had gotten Flynn an oversize coffee cup with a picture of a kitten behind bars and a mug shot in the background. The caption read, “Bad Kitty.” He grinned.
“The baddest,” he said.
“Jasmin, open mine and Xander’s,” Lissa said. “And there’s one for Brody that goes with it.”
Brody gave Jasmin a questioning look, and she shrugged.
Lissa’s present was a long shallow box. Inside was a randomly-shaped piece of flat red vinyl, like a frozen puddle. One side of it turned down at a ninety-degree angle, with irregular shapes like drips.
“Um, thank you?” Jasmin said, looking questioningly at Tank.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “I don’t know what the fuck it is.”
“It’s a cutting board,” Lissa said. “Except, it’s shaped like a pool of blood.” She demonstrated on the coffee table, laying it flat on the top and shoving the angled part against the edge. “See? Some of it is dripping over the side.”
Lissa beamed at Jasmin. “Every time you cut vegetables, it will look like you’re killing someone.”
“I like it,” Jasmin said. “Thanks, assholes.”
Xander shot a beer cap at her. “Lissa made me. She made me go in on Brody’s too.” Behind him, Lissa was shaking her head and pointing at Xander. He picked them out, she mouthed.
Brody opened the matching box. In it was a full set of knives, with a knife block in the shape of a cartoon man. When you put the knives in it, it looked like they were stabbing through his body.
Brody burst out laughing. “Awesome,” he said. “Makes me feel like a real Bad Blood.”
“You are,” Lissa said. “You’re Jasmin’s mate. That makes you one of us.” She reached for Tank’s hand and squeezed it.
“Yeah,” Sloan said. “Someone has to keep Jasmin in line.”
Jasmin stiffened, but the conversation moved on. Only Brody noticed her reaction, a small frown creasing his forehead.
Chapter 31
Later that night, after too much food and several amiable wrangles over what sports channel to watch on TV, Jasmin drifted off to her shed.
The night was cold and clear, the stars bright overhead. She could hear muffled shouts from inside the house, as one hockey team or another scored.
She lit the woodstove, opened the skylight and lay down on the futon, looking up at the stars, glad to have a few moments of solitude to just be.
Mates. She and Brody were mates. She didn’t regret a single thing, and she loved him completely.
And yet… there was still a part of her that was afraid.
She’d submitted to him. What would things be like between them now?
She heard the door open, and looked up to see Brody standing there. He leaned against the doorframe, arms folded, his muscular body relaxed.
He was so gorgeous, so loyal, so brave. So vulnerable, in his secret heart. A wave of fierce love swept over her.
Ours, her jaguar said. Not alone anymore.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said. “Mind if I come in?”
She sat up. “You live here too, now,” she said.
He shook his head. “This is your space,” he said. “We’ll build a cabin, eventually, but Tristan said I could use his room for now. So I don’t crowd you.”
Her heart melted a little at his thoughtfulness. “Come in,” she said. “Please.”
He came over and sat on the futon next to her, brushing her hair back. “You’re worried about being mated, aren’t you,” he said.
She shrugged, looking away. “I love you,” she said. The words felt strange coming out of
her mouth.
He ran his fingers through her hair. “I know that,” he said. “But there’s still something. There’s always been something holding you back, something besides what happened to you in Grant’s cells. Something that was triggered when Sloan made that crack about me keeping you in line.”
Jasmin flinched.
He said softly, “Tell me.”
She bit her lip. She was at the edge of the cliff again, and it was just as scary as the other times.
“You don’t know what it was like, to be a female in the jaguar world,” she said. “My brother got everything—new clothes, a shiny bicycle, a skateboard, his own TV and computer. I got nothing, only clothes my mother made from fabric she bought with what she managed to save out of the housekeeping money.”
Her voice grew even raspier. “My father gave her a couple of hundred dollars every week for groceries, household supplies, clothes, and anything I needed. If he was late giving it to her and she had to ask for it, he used to take the money out of his wallet and hold it over his head, so she’d have to jump to try to reach it. Then he’d laugh and say that’s what happened to greedy little girls. As if she was using it to get her nails done and buy fucking bonbons.”
Brody tried to keep his breathing even, but he wanted to jump off the futon, find that motherfucker and rip him a new jaguar asshole.
“And then he’d drop it on the floor and she’d have to scurry around to pick it up. Sometimes he’d do it outside and she’d have to rush around trying to gather up the bills before the wind blew them away.”
Jasmin was staring off into the distance, as if she’d traveled back in time.
“Sometimes, if she did things he didn’t like, he’d make her sleep on the floor in the laundry room. Like a dog.” Jasmin felt the bitterness in her heart like a knife. “And if I objected, or complained, or tried to stand up for her or myself, I got locked in a closet until I ‘came to my senses’ and ‘behaved like a proper girl.’”
Brody was on his feet, pacing back and forth, his hands clenching into fists.
“That was wrong,” he said. “He wasn’t just an asshole, he was a fucking monster. You don’t treat your family like that. You don’t treat your woman like that, even if you don’t love her. Even if it’s an arranged mating. And you sure as hell don’t treat someone who loves you like that.”
Bad Blood Wolf (Bad Blood Shifters Book 2) Page 17