Four Days (Seven Series #4)

by Dannika Dark

  Austin patted his lap. When Lorenzo sent him a sharp glare, Austin returned the glance—his cocky eyes lit with amusement.

  So Lorenzo patted his leg.

  Ivy wagged her tail and growled low, looking between the two men. She sniffed harshly, showing her frustration, and then bowed.

  “Ivy, come,” Austin said.

  She lifted her brown eyes to her Packmaster and Lorenzo could see the compliance in her posture. This became more than a game, but a contest to show which man Ivy’s loyalty lay with.

  Lorenzo patted his chest and tilted his head to the side. “Come, Ivy,” he said softly.

  She barked at both of them.

  “Shhh!” Denver said. “What the hell are you two doing over there? You’re going to wake everyone up.”

  After a high-pitched whine and another growl, Ivy walked forward and stood between them. Then she turned around, facing away, and wagged her tail so hard that it slapped both of them in the face. Eventually she settled down, folding her front paws and resting her head on them.

  “Now I think we need to talk,” Austin said with a hard sigh. “What’s your plan?”

  “She’s accepted my offer to pursue her.” Lorenzo crossed his legs at the ankle and noticed Reno’s woman lying on the floor behind Jericho’s sofa. Just a spray of bright hair peeked out from a dark sleeping bag.

  “Ivy didn’t mention that.”

  Lorenzo smirked while Austin scratched his stubbly jaw. “She only just agreed an hour ago while on a food run. Is that how you value a woman of her character? Send her for peanuts while a man who assaulted her is on the hunt?”

  “My men have secured this building. It won’t take long to spot someone who’s out of place. In case you haven’t noticed, Church, we’re not trying to hide from Fox. We’re luring him out of his foxhole. Soon he’ll realize we have all the comforts we need in the city and he’ll make a stupid move. Let him try to burn this club down and face the wrath of a hundred pissed-off immortals who would love nothing more than to make a fur coat out of him.”

  “Are your men armed?”

  “Judge all you want,” Austin said. “When a man threatens my family, it’s not about fair. You come at my pack, and I’ll come at you with guns blazing. I spent years working as a bounty hunter, and the one thing I learned was that nobody plays fair.”

  Lorenzo respected that. “Do you think Fox has found the child?”

  Austin coughed into his hand and took a swig of beer. “I think he’s blowing smoke. That’s what men like him do best. Reno’s pulling a few strings to track the boy down, but I don’t think we’ll need to worry about that.”

  “What if Ivy wants the child back?”

  Austin drew up his knees and draped his arms over them, covering up the hole on the left knee. “We’d take him in. But if she does that, no Shifter will want her. That’s about as scarlet letter as it comes, and most men don’t want to raise another man’s child. That’s something she’ll have to consider, because it’ll be life changing. She’ll always have my pack’s protection, but Ivy could be giving up a future of having her own family. Even when the child is grown, the stigma will be there. People don’t know her story, and they’ll just assume she was unfaithful or promiscuous.”

  Unfortunately, this was true. Shifters had only recently acquired their freedom from slavery, so in many ways, they were still wrapped up in the ways of the old world. Wolves mated for life, and a woman with a fatherless child represented a woman unwilling to devote herself completely to one man. Lorenzo was beginning to see how fallible that belief really was.

  “So tell the truth, Church. As a Packmaster, how serious are you willing to get? Are you ready to stand up to your pack and any outsider to defend that choice?”

  Lorenzo stroked Ivy’s silky fur and admired the exquisite layers of color that blended from dark grey to white to silver on each hair. “I’ve given it consideration.”

  Austin chuckled. “That I don’t doubt, but I have a feeling Ivy will have a problem if you cut a man’s throat for calling her a gimp. She’s not the kind of woman who puts up with that kind of shit. Ivy’s never embraced violence as a form of punishment. I wouldn’t mind going a few rounds with some of the jackasses in my pack, but now I get where she’s coming from. I don’t want the women or children in my pack to become afraid of me because I condone physical punishment among the men, so I’ve found other creative ways to enforce my rules. There’s more than one way to run a pack and earn their respect. But yeah,” he said with a laugh, rising to his feet. “Good luck with that.”

  Ivy hopped to her feet and trotted over to Denver, licking his face. He turned away and looked annoyed as she continued cleaning his neck with her pink tongue.

  Austin set his beer on the black bar. “Do me a favor and tell Wheeler to come back. I want him to get some shut-eye and switch places with Jericho. Ben slipped out before you came in, so tell him to get back in here too. I’ve got five women, one child, and three men in here. That ain’t sittin’ well with me.”

  Lorenzo rose to his feet and threw Austin a frosty glare. “I’m not your runner, but since I could use a drink, I’ll pass along the message as a courtesy.”

  Lorenzo headed into the bar. He’d lost track of the time since there weren’t any clocks. Vampires didn’t require sleep, so their clubs were busy morning and night. He neared a table on his left that was located next to a half wall, giving its occupants privacy.

  Wheeler had his fingers laced behind his head and was leaning back in his chair.

  Ben sipped his drink, watching one of the waitresses strut by. “I’d give my left nut for some of that.”

  Wheeler took notice of her slim legs and perky breasts. “I’d give your left nut for some of that, too.”

  Lorenzo lifted the edge of the table and tipped a few empty bottles.

  “Hey, what the shit?” Ben complained.

  “Your Packmaster wants you to return to the party. Both of you.” Lorenzo watched them get up as he sat in one of the chairs. Wheeler seemed the more obedient of the two, which came as a surprise given that his physical appearance made him seem more rebellious. Ben looked nondescript and forgettable, and Lorenzo noticed his reluctance to follow orders.

  Jericho swaggered into the room—jeans ripped in various places and his concert shirt unkempt. The bear claw hanging from his neck caught Lorenzo’s eye; only warriors carried tokens like that. Jericho kept his shoulder-length hair in his face and tugged at the long sleeves of a thin shirt he wore beneath the T-shirt. The grey sleeves were jagged at the cuff, as if cut with a pair of dull scissors. He sat in the chair across from Lorenzo.

  “No one recognizes the big rock star?” Lorenzo said more than asked.

  “This yours?” Jericho lifted one of the glasses.

  “Ben’s.”

  Jericho knocked it back and shivered like a woman. “Damn, he drinks that nasty shit that tastes like licorice. Nah. No one recognizes me as long as I cover up my tattoo. I wear the thick eyeliner onstage because without it, people aren’t sure. Just a few tricks I learned over the years about creating an alternate image.”

  Lorenzo studied this tall wolf for a moment. “I saw you have a little one on the way.”

  His face beamed. Milky-green eyes flashed back at him. “Yeah. Izzy’s pretty settled on the name Melody if it’s a girl.”

  “And if it’s a boy?”

  He shrugged. “I suggested Floyd, but she’s not digging it. I guess we’ll meet the little fella first before we give him a name. Or her. Either way, I’m having a bunch of babies with that woman, so we’ll have plenty of opportunities to choose names,” he said with a laugh.

  Lorenzo felt his chest constrict. The idea of family had never struck him as profoundly as it did now. For a fleeting moment, he imagined Ivy with a full belly, sun shining on her honey-brown skin, soft hair cascading down her back. Then a realization entered his mind that she had once reflected that very image, and no one had admired her beaut
y or glow because she was only a child herself. Then to have her baby cast away as a shameful secret filled him with rage. Not even her father had given her unconditional acceptance.

  What he felt for Ivy was more than an alpha’s desire to care for a woman in need. Why else would his heart soften when thinking of the way she smiled at him? Or her sweet laugh when she called him Thunder? Even that nickname roused an unexpected heat in him. He loved the way she’d throw back her shoulders when standing up to him, and he loved the resilience in her spirit that made her accept her fate of having a limp, because she had endured much worse pain in her life. Sorrow and heartache—emotions he wanted to erase with a kiss on her lips and tender words whispered in her ear. He had never been struck by anything so fast as the love he felt for Ivy.

  Love. Something he knew little of when it came to women. Was his grandmother right in that they were fated? Then he thought of her prophecy of blood.

  “Uh-oh,” Jericho said. “I’ve seen that look before.”

  Lorenzo cleared his throat, coming out of his thoughts. “What look is that?”

  “There’s nothing innocuous about the faraway look in your eyes. Especially combined with that ghost of a smile that you probably didn’t even realize you were doing. Not to mention the blush on your face when I suggested it, and yeah, men don’t blush unless it’s over a woman or someone finding their dirty magazines. Not to mention the contemptuous look you’re giving me right now. Yep. Someone’s been acquainted with lady love. Can’t say I blame you; Ivy’s one of a kind. But just remember she belongs to our pack, and I’ll say this in the nicest way possible—don’t fuck with my sister’s head.”

  “Tell me how that redheaded wolf in there came to fall in love with a man with one of the worst reputations in town.”

  Jericho laughed and shook his head. “You can’t help who you love. It is what it is. You remember how as kids we used to tug their hair and call them names? Well, paybacks are a bitch. That’s when you know you got her heart in your pocket—when she can’t stand to look at you. You represent something she hates, or you’ve done something to hurt her. But either way, she’s mad as hell at herself for loving you, so she spits fire. They don’t make it easy.”

  “And that one in there gave you trouble?” Lorenzo asked. Redheads were known to have fiery tempers.

  Jericho lifted the bear claw and turned it in his hand, staring at the tip. “A good woman doesn’t make it easy. They want to push all your buttons to see how willing you are to chase after them. You don’t get a woman like that by saying you love her. You’ve got to write them a song, walk through fire, jump off a building, or slay a bear. And you know what? If you love ’em enough, you’ll do it. I wake up every morning at five to get my woman donuts, fry her bacon, or just make love to her. And not because she asked me to. When you can do all that and because of it feel like more of a man and not less, then that’s the girl. That’s the one. The only one. It never gets old either.” Jericho let the necklace fall against his shirt and glanced around the room. “There isn’t a woman in this world that compares to my Isabelle. Even when she’s yelling at me because I got potato-chip crumbs in the bed or when she’s hiding her face because it’s too early and she thinks I won’t love her anymore when I see her morning face.”

  “Love is a weapon,” Lorenzo remarked. “I’ve seen it ruin men.”

  Jericho snagged a cigarette from behind his ear and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a silver lighter. It made a melodic clink when he opened it. After a few puffs, he blew a steady trail of smoke upward and nodded. “Maybe so, but I don’t care.”

  “Did Alexia tell you about her real father—my uncle? The one who hired a man to murder his mate and child?”

  He nodded and looked at the end of his smoke. “I heard. Did you ever consider that maybe none of that went down because of love? A man doesn’t put a hit on his life mate and child because he loves them; he does it because he loves himself. His pride, his pack, whatever. No offense, Church, but that was a man who couldn’t live with the shame of a cheating mate. Didn’t sound like he knew much about forgiveness either. Yeah, we all fuck up in our lives. But when someone loves you enough to forgive you, it changes a man. Doesn’t mean you get a second chance with them necessarily, but you let go of all that hate and bitterness. If you really think love can ruin a man, then I don’t want you near Ivy.”

  He dropped his smoke in a glass and stood up, giving Lorenzo a pointed look. “She deserves more than a wolf with a cold heart. Your iron fist won’t keep her warm at night.”

  After Jericho left the table, Lorenzo rubbed his face with his hands. Taking love advice from the Weston pack was like being kicked in the testicles. Austin’s pack created unrealistic expectations of what a mate should offer. Lorenzo could provide her wealth, security, power, and position. Waking up at dawn to bring her donuts? He could never be that man.

  Although he had left cream cheese on her tray. Maybe that was the best he could do.

  Growing up, Lorenzo had been much smaller than the other children. They’d pushed him down and called him a runt. When he reached his teens, his growth spurt hit and those same children began to avoid him. Lorenzo had learned how to intimidate men with his words and body language. He quickly realized his reputation would be ruined if he lost a fight, so he’d acquired a pack of friends and chose his battles carefully. To his disappointment, Lorenzo’s younger brother didn’t join his pack. Most siblings stuck together and followed their alpha brother, but Luca didn’t like his cold and distant approach.

  Reno was sitting with his back to the main entrance, holding a phone to his ear. He pointed at his eyes and then signaled Lorenzo to watch the front door while he took the call.

  Lorenzo rose from his chair and studied the facial expressions of every man who entered. It was easy to weed out those of another Breed—the ones with unique eye colors or unblemished skin. Sometimes Chitahs wore color contacts to disguise their unique eyes from humans, but they couldn’t conceal their height.

  Two men wandered in, each with thick treads on their boots that left broken pieces of dried mud on the dark carpet wherever they walked. Their eyes scoped out the room, but their posture remained closed. Lorenzo leaned against the bar, resting on his elbows, watching the two men settle in a dark area of the room behind Reno. Most men left their coats in the car so they wouldn’t have to lug them around, but not these guys. Their jackets were zipped up to their necks in a club that felt as humid as a tropical island.

  Lorenzo only had a vague memory of what Fox looked like from the man’s visit to the house. He had been concentrating on the conversation so hard that his memory was a little fuzzy on the details. He ruled out the men in the shadows because a man like Fox craved attention. Men like that wanted to be noticed, even when it wasn’t in their best interest to be. He remembered Fox’s blue eyes and darkish hair, although what his wolf noticed the most was his defect. Shifters in animal or human form were perceptive when it came to noticing any detail that could be a weakness, and his wolf had paid attention to Fox’s mangled left ear. Images flashed in his mind of Ivy’s assault—ones planted from her description of the incident. A despicable man who would assault an innocent and threaten the life of a child—his own son!—deserved a slow death without mercy.

  “Good to see you, Enzo. Can I get you a drink?” Gilly asked.

  “Not tonight. Just enjoying the atmosphere,” Lorenzo replied coolly.

  Reno set his phone on the table and looked to Lorenzo, who nodded toward the two men. A silent conversation of body language formed between them as Reno made a declaration that he was going to move in closer to listen.

  “There are never enough ladies to choose from.”

  Lorenzo turned his head and met the eyes of a Vampire. Short blond hair and eyes as black as oil. He had the aristocratic air that one often saw in families with old money.

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Curious,” the Vampire said. “I could
have sworn I saw you talking to a fetching young woman with a long braid. Not yours?”

  “Polite conversation.”

  “Hmm,” the Vampire said, mimicking the way Lorenzo was leaning on the bar. “The way you had her cornered against the wall didn’t look very polite to me.”

  Lorenzo bristled at the comment. The Vampire had been listening. Normally they tuned out of conversations unless they were investigating someone or had a personal interest. Was he sent by someone? Did he have an interest in Ivy? Lorenzo pushed off the bar and walked away.

  The Vampire lightly touched his arm and caught up with him. “It’s just that if you’re not interested in anyone in particular, I thought I’d see if the young miss would entertain me with a dance.”

  Lorenzo turned on his heel and faced his new friend. “What interest does a Vampire have in a Shifter?”

  The slender Vamp clicked his heels and bowed swiftly. “The name’s Atticus. You’re a Packmaster, right? She has an alluring way about her that’s undeniably attractive, but later tonight, you’ll be giving serious thought to some of the things you promised her. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? We both know Packmasters never choose women with shortcomings such as hers. All I want is a dance with the girl. Have your fun and discard her later, but turn a blind eye and indulge an old Vampire in having a moment with a beautiful woman.”

  “If you go near her, I’ll put a stake in you,” Lorenzo said. A stake wouldn’t kill a Vampire like in the movies, but it certainly deflated their ego by paralyzing them until it was removed. Atticus stood a couple of inches shorter than he did, so Lorenzo let his eyes lower to the man’s mouth to keep from looking into his eyes.

  “So much testosterone flinging about with you Shifters. Maybe you should use me as a way to test her loyalty. If she accepts a dance, then you’ll have your answer that she isn’t as faithful as you hoped. If she rejects me, then you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing she only wants you. I’ll even wear my glasses so you know I’m not tipping the scales in my favor. Think about it.” Atticus gave him a pat on the arm and gracefully slipped into the crowd.