Dance with the Devil

by Angela Dennis

  “But what if I had chosen Lucas?” Jillian asked. “Why orchestrate all of this?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t. My handler did.” He grinned. “You would never have chosen Lucas. Your sense of honor is too strong. I’ve been watching both of you for years. The two of you are the only chance the half-bloods have against the Conclave. Both your fathers knew that, which is why they did their damnedest to keep you away from each other. I couldn’t let that happen.”

  Jillian thought back. He was right. He’d played her like a marionette. “It was you. I decided to go to St. Louis because you raved about the city. Every time you came to visit, you’d tell me stories about the things you did there when you got to escape on vacation. It sounded wonderful, so different from the island.” She glared at him. “You played me. You knew Carrick was already there.”

  Quinn nodded. “But Fate put you in the same bar. I had nothing to do with that.”

  “So, you’re on our side?” Carrick sat on the bed, the lines beneath his eyes betraying what he’d been through. “If you are, help us find this bastard. We’ll sort the rest out later.”

  “So, that’s it? You trust me now?” Quinn grinned. “Didn’t think it’d be that easy.”

  Carrick grimaced. “I trust you as long as it helps me, or until you screw up. Whichever comes first.”

  “Sounds fair.” Quinn settled on the chaise. “Tell me what you remember.”

  Carrick pulled Jillian into his lap, his fingers playing with the strands of her hair. “I heard someone come through the door of the suite, so I got up to investigate.” He turned to Jillian. “I tossed the covers over you so they wouldn’t see you. I never made it to the hall. I remember seeing his shadow, then feeling a prick under my arm.” He looked down at the dried blood on his chest. “I was disoriented, and the bastard was standing over you with a dart gun in his hand. I threw myself at him, and he ran. I don’t remember anything after that.”

  “The sound of him leaving must have woken me up.” Jillian snuggled into Carrick, needing to feel him against her. “The dose he gave me wasn’t very strong. It didn’t affect my ability to change.”

  “You were lucky. What he gave Carrick would have killed you, and I’d bet my ass it was meant for you. Otherwise, he would have left once he shot Carrick. He didn’t have enough drugs left and had to find another way to kill you.” Quinn leaned against the chaise. “He’ll try again soon.”

  It made sense. It also meant Carrick had saved her life again. He was quickly becoming her lucky charm. “I know you were out of it, but did you recognize him?”

  Carrick shook his head. “No. But I would if I saw him again. He’s hard to forget.”

  “Describe him,” Quinn ordered.

  “Big. Average height, but wide. Built like a linebacker.” He considered. “Long, white-blond hair, angular face, dark eyes. He walked with a limp.”

  Jillian cursed, pulling away from Carrick. “Did he limp, or did his gait just seem uneven?”

  “Uneven. Almost like his legs were two different sizes.”

  “Or he had an injury that didn’t heal properly.” She sighed. “That sounds like Sean, Fiona’s brother.”

  “But you killed him,” Carrick said.

  Jillian shook her head. “No. The other brother. He never left the Pride, just stepped down as one of Reginald’s enforcers.” She pushed away from Carrick, standing. “Damn it, it never occurred to me it could be him.”

  “It might not be. It could be someone else pretending to be him. It’s no secret Sean’s injured, and he’s the most likely suspect. But being a psychopath’s brother doesn’t make you a killer.” Quinn leaned forward. “I’ve always liked Sean. He’s a good cat.”

  “He was my friend until I crippled him.” Jillian couldn’t stop herself; she began to pace. Nervous energy was building up inside her and she needed an outlet. “After I killed Gabe, I ran back to the house. Sean followed me. He didn’t know what had happened and wanted to make sure I was okay. I liked Sean and I trusted him, but he’s Gabe’s twin. He found me curled up in a ball inside the tunnels, scared out of my mind. All he wanted to do was comfort me, but when he touched me all I could see was Gabe. I attacked him. By the time I got control of myself, both his kneecaps were shattered and his legs were a mess, all because he wanted to help me.”

  “Once he found out what happened, I’m sure he understood. Did you talk to him after?” Carrick grabbed her hand as she passed, tugging her toward him.

  “No. I left. Threw a tantrum like a toddler and ran away. I haven’t spoken to him since.”

  “Odds are it’s not him.” Carrick leaned back on the bed, taking her with him. “Good men don’t go psycho just because something bad happens.”

  “I don’t want it to be him. I hope it isn’t, but think about it. I killed his brother, banished his sister and maimed him. I’d say that’s plenty of reason for him not to want me in charge.”

  “Still, he’s no pussy. He’s got enough balls to try to kill you face-to-face. Carrick’s right. It’s probably not him.” Quinn stood, stretching from side to side. “I say we ask him. He’s down here, and there aren’t many places he can hide.”

  “Carrick’s not in any condition to hunt. Ask Gareth and Abbey if they’ll stand guard for a few hours, so he can recoup. I don’t trust anyone else, and the guards you posted were useless.”

  “Aye, aye, Alpha,” Quinn said with a quick salute. “Damn.” He paused. “If I join you, that means you’re my Alpha.” He sighed. “The sacrifices I make.”

  Jillian rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at him. “That’s right. I gave you an order. Obey it.”

  Quinn turned before he slipped through the door. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m my own boss and always have been, despite any evidence to the contrary.”

  “Got it. Now get the hell out of here.” Carrick laughed when he slammed the door. “I’d say things got pretty interesting fast.”

  Jillian sank back into the bed. “They did. But I’ve figured something out.”

  “What?” he asked, laying his head on her stomach. “The meaning of life?”

  “No, smart-ass. You and Quinn are friends, aren’t you?”

  Carrick sighed. “We grew up together, and we were both freaks. So, yeah, I guess we are.”

  She hit him with a pillow, careful not to jar him too much. “You could have told me there was no way he would kill you.”

  “Oh, he would have.” Carrick rolled onto his side. “Quinn’s ruthless. I may be the closest thing he has to family, but he’d kill me in an instant if it served his purpose. You can’t trust him. And you sure as hell can’t turn your back on him. There’s a whole lot more to Quinn than he lets you see.”

  “Apparently.” She grinned. “Just like there was more to you than you let me see.”

  “That’s different. I thought you were human.”

  “You’re as powerful as I am. I’m still not sure how you weren’t able to see beneath my spell, or at least tell I was using one.”

  “Sometimes we only see what we expect to, not what’s really there.” He leaned forward, brushing her hair from her neck. “But I see you now.”

  Leaning forward, she kissed him. “No more secrets,” she whispered, pulling his head down to hers. “I know things have gone to hell, but I need you. I want to feel you against me and know you’re okay. You scared me.”

  “I’m good with that.” He pulled her into his arms, tumbling them back onto the bed.

  Chapter Eleven

  An hour later, when Quinn joined Carrick and Jillian in her rooms, news of the attack had spread like wildfire throughout the compound. Jillian had placed Sean at the top of her list of suspects, but Carrick wasn’t so sure Sean was to blame. Normally he’d be the first to question a man’s loyalty, but the way Quinn and Jillian had described Sean, Carrick had almost felt sorry for him.

  The only way they would know for sure would be to find Sean and interrogate him. It wouldn’t hur
t to bring in his sister as well. Carrick was convinced Fiona was involved somehow. And involved or not, she didn’t belong in the Pride.

  Leaving the suite, they followed Quinn to a security room attached to the main hall. Carrick was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before now. The room was more like a closet, and monitors lined each wall, streaming feeds from the cameras that lined every main hallway and room.

  “We found him.” Quinn grabbed one of the metal chairs and scooted it toward the monitors before he sat. “Here.” He pointed to the screen. “These are the tunnels that run beneath this level of the structure. They serve two purposes. They’re an escape route if anything goes wrong, but they also provide access to the compound if the Pride is attacked. I only know about them because I’m a Regulator. And Reginald only showed the plans for this place to his enforcers. No one else knows they exist. Look at this.” He pointed to a blurry spot on the monitor.

  Carrick leaned down to get a closer look. “That’s a sleeping bag.”

  “Sean’s been staying down there. We got a visual on him about an hour ago.”

  “We need to find out why he’s hiding,” Carrick said.

  “There’s something else you need to see.” Quinn leaned forward, rewinding the tape. “This is from right before you were attacked.”

  When he pushed play, the monitor showed footage of the residential wing where their suites were located. Two guards, the man and woman who had given him his keys, sat outside the doorway. After a few moments, a shadow appeared behind them. It took out the male first, slicing his throat in one swift movement. Before the female could react, he was on her, plunging the knife into her chest. She hit the floor, slumped over, eyes glassy.

  “Bastard,” Jillian growled. “But why kill them? Whoever he is, he has to be part of the Claiming. They would have let him through.”

  “He was making a point. Watch.” Quinn rewound the tape a few seconds. “Right here,” he said, pointing to the screen. “He’s waving to the camera. He knew it was there.”

  The image on the screen was blurry, but not enough that they couldn’t make out the distinct hand movement. “He’s flipping us off.”

  “Yep.” Quinn sighed. “Whoever it is, he’s got balls.”

  “I’ve been thinking,” Jillian said. “If it was Sean, I would have recognized his scent.”

  Carrick shook his head. “Not necessarily. It’s been three years. Scents change over time, especially if he was messing with magic. I’m not saying it is Sean, just that it’s a possibility.” He watched Jillian, well aware he was about to piss her off. “You’re too emotionally involved. You need to stay here while we find him. Take Abbey and Gareth, and round up Fiona. She probably had a role to play in this as well.”

  Jillian glared at him. “You’ve got to be freakin’ kidding me. If it is Sean, he tried to kill me. Twice. I’m going.”

  “No. You’re not. We don’t know for sure that he did this, and your judgment’s clouded. Let us talk to him. If it is him, we won’t kill him without you.”

  “Gee, thanks. Because that makes it all better.”

  “Jillian—”

  “Forget it, Carrick. Besides, I’d much rather go after Fiona, but I can’t promise I won’t rip her head off.” She shrugged. “My temper is crazy like that. So, have a fun hunt.”

  Quinn motioned for three of his guards to follow her as she moved to the door. She stopped, checking each of them out. “They’ll do. I may even let them help.”

  When she had disappeared through the door, Carrick turned to Quinn. “She gave in way too easily.”

  “Yep.” Quinn turned off the monitors, then stood. “She’s going to go after him herself.”

  “Of course she is.” Carrick stood and stretched. His muscles were still stiff from the toxins, but he’d regained most of his strength. “We’ll get there before she does.”

  “Agreed.” Quinn stepped into the hall. “Follow me. I know a shortcut. We’ll be in and out before she figures out how to get inside.”

  He followed Quinn through a series of hallways to a dead end. Carrick gave Quinn a questioning look, but Quinn motioned for him to wait. Crouching, he picked up the corner of the burgundy rug that had been haphazardly slung across the cement. There was a round opening underneath. Quinn pulled it open and a blast of cold wind barreled out.

  “Let’s go.” Quinn jumped inside, landing on the metal with a loud twang.

  Carrick followed him, sealing them inside. The steel tunnels were pristine, almost shiny, but the smell that drifted through them was enough to make a grown man weep.

  “What the hell is that?” Carrick covered his nose and mouth with his shirt and tried not to gag.

  Quinn shrugged. “It’s not that bad. Probably a mix of rotten garbage and strong perfume.”

  “It’s rank. We’ll never be able to smell anything else down here. Even if we find Sean, we won’t be able to tell if his scent matches.”

  They followed the trail of food crumbs, dirty clothes and debris through the winding tunnels. If Sean was guilty, he was either cocky, didn’t care if he got caught, or maybe both. They had almost made their way back to the beginning when they found the tattered military-grade sleeping bag wadded into a ball and stuffed into a crevice in the side of the tunnel. The smell of blood seeped from the cloth, permeating the air. It was distracting, but not enough to hide the sound of footsteps at their back.

  Carrick glanced at Quinn. The Regulator had palmed his knife. Carrick raised a brow, surprised. Cats generally fought with teeth and claws. Quinn shrugged, his eyes trained on the corridor ahead. Within moments, Sean appeared before them. Chest bare, a pair of ragged gray sweats riding low on his lean hips, he moved toward them with a pronounced limp and no fear in his eyes.

  “You here to evict me?” He limped past them and pulled the sleeping bag from the wall, putting it under his arm. “Figured it wouldn’t last.”

  “How long have you been here?” Carrick asked. He moved closer to Quinn.

  Sean shrugged. “I always come here during the Claiming. Alpha’s orders. Doesn’t matter though. None of the females worth having are interested.” He gestured to his legs. “This year, I figured I’d save myself the trouble.” You could cut ice on the bitterness in his voice.

  “Is that why you tried to kill Jillian? Because she crippled you?” Quinn stepped forward, the blade in his hand glimmering in the fluorescent light. “I never figured you would hide behind a gun.”

  Sean stepped back. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Do you really think I’d have come up to you if I’d tried to kill Jillian? You’re two scary sons of bitches.”

  “Where were you a few hours ago?” Carrick demanded.

  “Here.” He gestured at the floor. “Drowning in a bottle of Jack and praying for this to be over. I’ve always stayed in the tunnels during the Claiming. Reginald would kick my ass if I didn’t. He didn’t want me tainting the gene pool. Said only a pussy would let a girl kick his ass.”

  “Reginald’s not Alpha anymore, so why are you still down here?” Carrick was at a loss. There was something off about Sean, but if he was the killer, the man had balls.

  Sean unrolled the sleeping bag, tossed it onto the ground and crouched beside it. “I heard Reginald was going to be banished once Jillian found a mate, but I didn’t believe it. The man’s an institution around here. I became an enforcer because I thought I could protect Jillian from him. Once upon a time, I thought she was my mate, but Reginald chose Gabe for her. And the bastard tried to rape her. I was glad she killed him.”

  “She almost killed you.” They needed a plan. The longer they talked, the more it became clear Sean wasn’t stable.

  “Gabe was my identical twin. She didn’t know who I was when she attacked me. I didn’t blame her. But then she left. Ran away.” He paused, chuckling as he played with the fringe on the sleeping bag. “Didn’t help her though, did it?” His eyes flitted between them. “Now someone’s trying to kill her.” His laughter
faded, and he began to grin. “No one can run forever, not even Jillian.”

  Quinn stepped beside Sean. “We need you to come with us. It’s not safe down here.”

  Sean glanced up at him, his grin widening. “You mean it’s not safe for Jillian if I’m down here. You want to contain me, so she’ll be safe. But I don’t want to leave.”

  “I’m not giving you a choice.” Quinn reached for Sean’s arm, but he jerked away. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  Sean snickered. “You don’t have a clue. None of you do.” In one swift movement, he jumped to his feet. “I’m not as crippled as you think. I’ve been playing a part, waiting, but now that Jillian’s back, I don’t have to wait anymore.” He shoved a hand in his pocket and flung a handful of dust toward them.

  Carrick fell to the ground. Tears streamed from his eyes as he struggled to breathe. Poison sank into his skin and his muscles began to convulse. He could barely see Quinn. The other man jerked, his mouth hanging open.

  “I think it’s time for the two of you to back off, hang out in the tunnels for a while,” Sean continued, smiling as he stepped over them. “Too bad you won’t make it out alive.”

  Jillian had retreated to her rooms, pissed off at Carrick and in search of backup. Not because she was afraid of Fiona, but because she was liable to kill her if there wasn’t anyone to stop her. And she was still weak from the drugs, so it wouldn’t hurt to have some extra muscle. The guards Quinn had assigned her were useless.

  She found Gareth and Abbey sprawled out in the living area of their shared suite, on opposite sides of the room, pretending to ignore each other. The tension was so thick Jillian was afraid she’d choke on it. Stepping inside, she grabbed the book from Abbey’s hand and sat on the arm of her chair.

  “So, what happened? Did the two of you hook up and now you can’t stand to look at each other?”

  Abbey snatched the book back. “We’re friends. We don’t hook up.”

  “Really?” Jillian continued. “’Cause you looked pretty cozy earlier. Or were you just pretending for Quinn?”