Twilight Hunter (The Execution Underground)

by Kait Ballenger

  “What I did? You were the one who left me, Allie. Not the other way around. I loved you. I wanted to marry you.”

  She stomped toward him and stabbed her finger into his face. “Don’t you dare act like none of it was your fault. You can’t play the victim with me, David. I won’t fall for it.”

  Anger boiled underneath his skin. “You were so scared of hurting anyone that you left us all behind and hurt everyone anyway.”

  She stepped away from him.

  He regretted the words as soon as they’d left his lips. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. What I meant was—”

  “Don’t!” Her hand quivered at her side, and he could see her thoughts on her face. He almost wished she would go ahead and smack him. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

  “Allsún...”

  Without another word she turned, and ran down the alley and out of his life again.

  * * *

  WHOA.

  Jace shook his head, trying to forget what just happened, and focused back on Frankie. He would deal with David’s emotional baggage later.

  Just as Frankie was about to speak again, someone else parted the crowd. A beefed-up male werewolf who looked like he’d been injecting steroids before he’d been weaned off the bottle stepped onto the platform.

  “You can’t call for a vote, Frankie.” He held his head high and puffed out his chest. Another pack member wanting to look like a badass.

  She brushed him off as if he were nothing more than a fly buzzing near her food. “Step down, Marshall.”

  Marshall shook his head. A cocky grin crossed his face. “That’s packmaster to you.”

  Frankie raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. She scoffed. “Excuse me?”

  Marshall stepped farther onto the platform, making certain to flex his massive biceps as he went. Jace had to fight not to laugh. The asshole might as well have put a sign on his forehead that said Overcompensating.

  “I’m the new packmaster,” Marshall said. “When you failed to take a mate, pack law dictated that you were no longer able to be packmaster. The title passed to Alejandro, but he refused to take a mate other than you, so he didn’t qualify. I’m next in line after him.”

  Frankie laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Marshall. Get over your little power trip and step aside.”

  Marshall let out a low growl. “Under pack law, I am the new packmaster, and I won’t let any ex-pack leader bitch talk to me that way. And I sure as hell won’t let any hunters near my pack.”

  Frankie snarled and bared her canines. “That’s where you’re wrong, Marshall. You see, Jace happens to be half-werewolf and he was there during the call. I’m not mated to any of our pack members, but I am mated to Jace.” The crowd fell silent and Jace watched Alejandro’s face fill with anger.

  Jace froze. He’d slept with her and now he was mated to a werewolf? His head spun with anger at himself for not listening to her warnings that night. What the hell had he been thinking? As much as he wanted to be nothing but pissed off, though, a small sense of relief flooded him. No wonder he was so hung up on her.

  Frankie continued. “So by pack law, I am still in power and if I say we’ll have hunters help us in catching this sadistic son of a bitch, then my word goes.”

  Marshall cracked his knuckles. “You’ll have to fight me for the position, then.”

  Frankie laughed. “Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your fellow pack members.”

  Without warning, Marshall charged Frankie full speed. But her reaction time was clearly faster than he’d expected. She hit him with a spinning back-kick that collided with his face. He dropped like a sack of chemically enhanced potatoes, clutching his bloodied nose.

  Before he could jump to his feet, she grabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him straight under the chin. A loud crack of fracturing bone sounded as he toppled back onto the floor. After delivering one final blow to his solar plexus, Frankie jammed her tennis shoe into his windpipe and stared him down.

  The growl that ripped from her throat sent a chill down Jace’s spine, and he suddenly knew why she was packmaster.

  “Fuck with me again and I will cut off your balls and feed them to you like they’re scrambled eggs.” She pushed his head to the side with her foot and turned away from him.

  Marshall peeled himself off the floor, bloodied and humiliated.

  Paying no further attention to the asshole, Frankie cleared her throat and addressed her pack. “As I was saying—”

  Marshall ran at her from behind and lunged.

  “Frankie!” Jace yelled.

  She spun around just in time for Marshall to collide with her midsection. He knocked her back and tried to climb on top of her. Twisting just out of his grasp, she shot to her feet, grabbed hold of his head and chin, then wrenched them to the right. With a deafening crack, she snapped Marshall’s neck as if were a chicken bone. He crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

  For several moments Frankie stood there, panting as she regained her composure. Then she rolled her shoulders, let out a long breath and turned back to the crowd. Her voice was filled with fury. “If any one of you ever tries to assume my position again, the means by which I kill you won’t be so painless.” She cleared her throat. “I am now calling for a vote on whether Jace should be allowed to shift.”

  Jace stared out at the room, memorizing the members of both sides as the tension grew with each passing second. Two groups—those loyal to their packmaster and the dickweeds who wanted to fight.

  Alejandro got up in Frankie’s face, and it took everything Jace had in him not to rip the bastard to shreds right then and there. “There’s no way I’ll allow it,” Alejandro said.

  Frankie shoved him out of her face. “It’s not up to you, Alejandro. The whole pack needs to take a vote.”

  Jace could tell by the way her hands shook that her patience was about to break.

  Without another word to Frankie, Alejandro turned to stare down at Jace and glared. “If you’re as strong as we are, prove it.”

  “Jace—” Frankie began.

  Ignoring her, he stepped forward and gestured for her to move aside. “Frankie, don’t try and tell me I can’t do this. If they want proof, I’ll give it to them.”

  “I wasn’t going to say that.” She gave him a little smile. “Just don’t kill him.”

  Jace couldn’t help but smirk as he stripped off his coat and handed it to her. Rolling up his sleeves, he stepped onto the platform. The little prick dropped into a fighting stance, like he was about to go all jujitsu on his ass. It took every ounce of control Jace had to keep a straight face. Within seconds, Alejandro charged. Jace dropped to the floor and swept the other man’s feet out from under him. Alejandro toppled to the ground in a pathetic heap.

  Jace shot to his feet again. “You were seriously going to try and body-slam me?” He ground his boot into the bastard’s spine. “I’m twice your fucking size.”

  He lifted his foot, ready to deliver another blow. Alejandro grabbed him by the ankle and twisted, pulling Jace down onto the platform, his hand throbbing from trying to break his fall. Jace kicked out hard, and the heel of his boot collided with the moron’s nose. Blood gushed from Alejandro’s nostrils like a waterfall. Jace glanced at his foot. Damn, he really needed to clean all the dried blood off his boots.

  Alejandro pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back in a futile attempt to slow the bleeding. He coughed as the blood seeped into his mouth.

  “You know you don’t get a break just because I busted your nose, right?” Jace hoisted himself to his feet.

  Gripping Alejandro by the front of his shirt, he threw a right hook. His fist collided with Alejandro’s cheek, and he felt the familiar crunch of broken bone and damaged cartilage beneath his knuckles. Jace yanked his arm back to deliver another blow.

  Sharp animal claws ripped across Jace’s face. Dropping Alejandro, he stumbled several steps backward, then touched his
cheek, his fingertips finding fresh blood. The bastard had managed to half-shift, his hands covered in fur with the claws of a wolf.

  “You can’t fight me without your claws, huh?” Jace stepped toward him. “Shift full form for all I care.” He plowed forward like the world’s fastest bulldozer and aimed straight for Alejandro’s center of balance.

  Alejandro threw himself forward to meet the attack, shifting in midair. Jace stopped in his tracks to throw his opponent off-stride. The large black wolf growled at him, its teeth bared. Jace readied himself just as the wolf pounced. Jace’s sheer size gave him the upper hand. The two of them rolled to the floor with Jace on top. He slammed his fist into Alejandro’s furred jaw.

  The wolf let out a high-pitched yelp and squirmed beneath him, fighting to be free. His canines dug into Jace’s shoulder, ripping through flesh as if it were butter.

  Jace let out a cry of pain and pulled back. To hell with letting this dickhead get away with this crap. Blood poured from his shoulder, but he fought through the pain, reached down to his ankle and pulled his blade. Throwing himself on top of the wolf, he pinned the animal to the floor and pushed his blade against Alejandro’s fur-covered neck.

  “Your pelt will look nice spread out on my apartment floor.” He moved to draw the blade across Alejandro’s throat.

  “Jace, don’t!”

  Frankie rushed over to him and pulled on his uninjured shoulder. “You’ve won, Jace. Get off him.”

  For a long moment he didn’t budge, but finally he gave in to her pleas and decided to move on his own. A low groan escaped the asshole’s lips as Jace stood and stepped away.

  “Greg, take care of Alejandro!” Frankie yelled, as she started to lead Jace away.

  “Coward.” Alejandro’s accusation stopped Jace in his tracks. “Only a coward steals another man’s woman.”

  Jace paused, then turned to face Alejandro. His eyes narrowed to thin slits. “What are you talking about?”

  “Alejandro, shut your mouth,” Frankie snapped.

  “She’s mine,” Alejandro hissed as if he were a venomous snake, ready to strike.

  “That was a direct order!” Frankie screamed at Alejandro. Her cheeks were red with anger.

  “She was mine,” Alejandro said to Jace, ignoring her. “She was promised to me. She was going to be my mate. My wife. If she’s yours now, it’s only because you were there when anyone would have done. Don’t kid yourself that she actually gives a damn about you.”

  Jace met Frankie’s eyes. He didn’t need to ask. He knew the truth from the fading light in her chocolate eyes. Shit.

  She latched onto his arm. “Jace, it’s not like that any—”

  He plucked her hand off his bicep and stepped away. “Stop.”

  “No, Jace, you don’t understand. It’s a mist—”

  “You’re right. It is a mistake.” He turned to Alejandro. “Keep her. I never wanted her to begin with.” He stormed out of the club with a heavy weight on his shoulders and an empty numbness in his chest.

  * * *

  DAVID PRESSED HIS palms against the brick wall to support his weight. His warm breath clouded in front of his face as he exhaled raggedly. She’d been right within his reach. Inches from his grasp, but he’d lost her again. The image of her face lingered in his mind. Her green-gold eyes. Her auburn curls and full lips.

  The permanent ache in his chest throbbed. All the years that had separated them had disappeared as soon as he saw her face. He let out a low groan. She was always on his mind, and she visited him in his dreams every night. He pushed off from the wall and walked down the alley. Shit, he was pathetic. Hung up on a woman who didn’t want him, a woman who’d left him with no explanation and without looking back.

  I can’t see myself with you forever. Her words echoed in his head.

  He punched the metal Dumpster, sending a loud bang rattling through the alley. She wasn’t even there, and still his brain had melted to mush because of her.

  His hand was throbbing from the blow, and he cradled it against his chest.

  * * *

  ROBERT LINGERED ACROSS the street from K9’s, waiting for the opportune moment. All he needed was for someone, anyone, to come out of the club. Someone he could use to lure Frankie to him. He’d stood there, waiting in the cold, for at least half an hour. They would all have to leave eventually, he told himself. Then, as if the gods had granted him a stroke of luck, a small, curly-haired bitch emerged from the alleyway behind the club and ran down the road without looking back.

  For a brief moment Robert wondered what she was running from, but then a grin spread across his face. It didn’t matter. Now she was running from him.

  He followed her without hesitation, easily keeping up with her. After several blocks she slowed to a walk and then stopped to catch her breath.

  She bent over and braced her hands on her knees. After a long moment she straightened and sighed. The smoky outline of her breath swirled in the air before it quickly dissipated.

  A sudden gust of the northern Canadian wind hit, and she gave a visible shiver. She rubbed at her bare arms and cursed. The streetlights cast dim shadows over the empty streets. She would look so sweet on his torture rack.

  She quickly reached into the rear pocket of her jeans, probably in search of her phone. Now was the time. Slowly, he approached her from behind. In seconds her phone crashed to the pavement, a spiderweb of cracks fracturing the screen as he grabbed her from behind.

  She screamed and elbowed him in the gut. He grunted but ignored the temporary discomfort. Then she jammed her heel down onto his instep, grabbed his hands and swept her leg behind his. She gave a quick twist, and suddenly he was toppling to the ground as she stumbled out of his grasp. Dirty whore. He was going to enjoy ripping her to shreds. He grabbed her ankle and wrenched her down to the ground beside him.

  “Hold still, you little bitch.” The heel of her shoe collided with his neck, and she twisted to see him. He saw his golden wolf eyes reflected back in hers.

  He smiled. “I enjoy a woman with some fight in her.” He allowed her to move beneath him, testing her strength and resilience.

  She rolled onto her back, their noses nearly touching, before she spat in his face. He recoiled slightly. She used the opportunity to pull her knees to her chest, lodge a foot against him and push. He slammed his hands into her shoulders, knocking her head into the pavement.

  His silver dagger glittered in the orange light of the streetlamps as he held the blade against her windpipe. “Don’t worry. I’ll wake you before the fun starts.” He laughed and swung at her face with his free hand. The light in her eyes faded as blood gushed down her forehead.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JACE STORMED OUT of K9’s and into the street. His heart was pounding like a construction worker’s jackhammer, each blow heavy and fast.

  Not just a boyfriend. A fiancé. And no one got engaged unless they were in love.

  Love. The word slammed around in his head. What the hell was wrong with him? He should have known. He paced, cursing under his breath. She was a female werewolf, and not just any werewolf: the Rochester packmaster. Sure, she’d claimed him in public, but that had only been to hang on to her position, because bottom line? She was engaged. Not only had he messed up the first night, he’d fucked her again and been shut down completely afterward. How many times was the universe going to stick it to him?

  “You gotta be fucking kidding me!” Jace yelled.

  A woman passing by on the other side of the street clutched her purse tighter and sped up her pace.

  Jace growled. “I don’t need this.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. The smoke filled his lungs but didn’t calm him down. How could he calm down with all the lying bullshit being flung at him? She was perfectly willing to screw him, even though she couldn’t even admit she wanted him, not to mention she was promised to someone else.

  Adrenaline pumped through him, and he flexed his free hand into a fist at his sid
e. He’d made a total idiot of himself, thinking for even two seconds that sexing up a werewolf was acceptable. Dumbest idea he’d ever had. What an idiot he’d been to think she had real emotions when she wasn’t even human.

  He sighed and blew out a puff of smoke. “Of course neither am I.”

  “You’re not what?” a male voice said from behind him.

  He turned to find David leaning up against the building.

  Jace ran his fingers through his hair. “Nothing.”

  “Well, something’s up with you.”

  Jace raised a brow. “You’re one to talk. You look like shit.”

  “Thanks for the compliment, sugarplum.”

  Jace shrugged. “Any time, baby. So what happened to you?”

  David shook his head. “You saw. Allsún was here. What about you?”

  Jace took another drag on his cigarette. “You go first.”

  Jace watched as David stuffed his hands in his pockets and stared up into the dark sky. You could never see the stars in Rochester. Every night the lights from the city obscured them. That was one thing Jace missed about Honeoye Falls.

  He threw his butt to the ground and stomped it out with the heel of his boot.

  “David, how come you never told me Allsún’s a werewolf?”

  David shook his head. “Because she’s not. She was just looking for the company of other supernaturals.”

  “What do you mean ‘the company of other supernaturals’?”

  David sighed. “She’s half faerie—pixie, specifically.”

  Jace cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Pixies? You’re in love with a damn pixie?” He lit another cigarette and took a hard drag. “What is the world coming to?”

  “Most of them still live on the Isle of Apples. You know, Avalon. It’s hidden off the coast of Scotland. So when her mother passed away a few years back—her mom was full-blooded—Allsún didn’t have any other faeries around. Your girl let her sort of join the pack, so she would have other supernaturals to be with, even if they’re werewolves.”

  Jace raised his eyebrows. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “That’s wild.”