Blackwing Wolf (Kane's Mountains Book 2)

by Joyce,T. S.

  “Dustin! I swear to God if you don’t answer me now, we are coming to that shitty motel and dragging your bitch out by her hair. Fucking meet us. Two hours. Same spot we always meet. Just you and the girl, do you understand me?”

  Dustin stared at a framed watercolor of a man in a boat fishing all alone on a pond. “Two hours, I’ll be there.” He ended the call.

  There was no way in hell he would bring Emma to Axton. She was human and fragile, his to protect. He didn’t want her anywhere near when he went to battle to earn his freedom from the Valdoro pack. He wanted her to live. No, he needed it. She had to exist. He could go to hell easier if he took the rest of the pack with him into the flames. If he died for a reason—protecting Emma, the Blackwings, and the Bloodrunners—he could stomach leaving that sliver of happiness that had settled into his life over the last weeks.

  Two hours.

  Two hours to say goodbye.

  When the alarm dinged on his phone, he looked down. 10:10. Time to make a wish, and he better make this one count.

  I wish Emma happiness when I’m gone.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Emma dumped her pile of laundry onto the bed and began sorting through it in search of T-shirts. She was weird and liked to fold one category of clothes at a time. John at the front desk had been nice enough to give her the keys to the laundry room, even though it was supposed to close at eight. When she got into the trailer, she was going to make John a big batch of brownies for always being so nice to her and the other D-Teamers.

  Outside, Beast, Logan, and Winter were sitting on the curb talking about something way too low for her to hear. But she could hear Winter’s laughter every once in a while, which always brought a smile to Emma’s face. Right after folding her clothes, she was going to go out and join them and hope Dustin was over whatever had been bothering him earlier. She missed him. Sure, she’d just spent the evening with him, but he’d worn his fake smile too much. Something was going on in that head of his, something he didn’t want her to see, and she hated it.

  Any distance between them now hurt in really surprising ways.

  Her eyes flashed to the pack of flower seeds on the nightstand. Had he realized he’d bought her flowers she would never see bloom? As soon as she turned vamp, the only thing she could hope to see was the closed flower buds at night, in the darkness, where she would dwell. A part of her wished she could be a shifter instead. Stupid ears and stupid hearing impairment. Without it, the choice would’ve been easy. Her whole life she’d prepared to be a vampire, but now she wanted to be like Dustin. She wanted his bite, wanted to run the woods with him, wanted to fit into the crew better, wanted to be Dustin’s tiny pack within the Blackwings.

  She wanted to be like him so neither of them would ever feel different or alone again.

  A knock sounded on the door, but before she could tell them to, “Hang on, I’m coming,” the door lock clicked and Dustin sauntered in, pocketing the key card. He looked like sex on a stick in a tight black sweater, dark jeans, and his hair flipped to the side. He’d probably done that out of habit, but it looked mussed and sexy as hell. His blue and green eyes collided with hers, and a smile stretched his face. It was slight, but a real one this time. Relief.

  She squeaked and ran to him, jumped up in his arms, and wrapped her legs around him. “I like you having a key.”

  He chuckled too low for her to hear, but she could feel the vibration against her cheek. Easing back and giving her a view of his lips, he asked, “You want some help?”

  “With folding laundry?”

  “Any chance for me to touch your panties, I’ll take it. Even chores.”

  She laughed and rubbed her nose against his. God, that was so dorky, but his smile got a little bigger.

  “John gave me a bag of popcorn when I was doing laundry earlier. I can pop it and we can put on a movie. You can rent them for two dollars. It can be like a room date.”

  “Sounds perfect.” His tone sounded different, a little off, a little sad, and his eyes weren’t dancing like they usually did.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” He kissed her gently, then brushed his tongue past her lips on the second sip of her mouth. Easing back way too soon, he said, “I’m just having a weird night. A room date is just what I need to set me right again.”

  Emma grinned. “Good. Glad I can help. And I hope you are good at folding because I have very specific tastes in folded clothes.”

  “High maintenance.” He grabbed a pair of mismatched socks and wadded them together. “How’s that.”

  “I knew you would be bad at this.”

  “What? How?” He folded a pair of her see-through lacy panties in half.

  “Because you’re bad at everything, naturally.”

  Dustin snorted and held up a finger. “One, I’m good at sex.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that. You’re great at humping.”

  “Thank you.” He held up a second finger. “Two, I’m a decent driver.”

  “Slow driver,” she mumbled.

  “To keep you safe, human, and three, I’m pretty good at pissing everyone off. Beast just tried to trip me when I passed him outside.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I told him it was me who broke into his room and ate all of his pizza bagel bites. And popsicles. And I kept hiding his shampoo and shaving cream in different spots in his room every day. I drank the whole bottle of moonshine he kept hidden in the air vent, but I replaced it with the empty mason jar. I was also pissing in his toilet three times a day without flushing just to make him think he’d gone crazy.”

  Emma laughed and shook her head as she worked on another T-shirt. “That’s my man. Beast is a little scary, though. Why did you admit to all that?”

  Dustin’s smile dipped from his lips. “I felt like confessing my sins tonight. I bought him a new jar of moonshine, but he’s still mad. Thank God. A smiling Beast would be weird.”

  “So weird. What sins do you have to confess to me?”

  Dustin cast her a quick glance, then gave his attention back to the pair of comfy cottons he was folding. “Sometimes I sneak in your room when you are sleeping just to watch you.”

  Oh, this was serious. And also unsettling because she hadn’t known that part at all. “Why do you do that?”

  “Because I like the way your face looks when you sleep. Like you don’t have a care in the world. Your lips go all pouty, and your hair sits wild on the pillow. And you smell different in your sleep. You smell so good when you are awake, but your sleep smell is like a secret that only I know.” He smiled brightly. “Plus, I like the way you snore.”

  She shoved him and laughed.

  “Tell me something good,” he said suddenly, his eyes downcast and his hair hiding his face.

  “Something real or something make-believe?”

  “One of each.”

  “Okay, something real. I remember when I was brought home from Russia. My parents had traveled to pick me up from the orphanage and fill out all the paperwork. I was scared of them because they had pale skin, and their eyes changed colors. Even though they tried to hide it, they were hungry on their trip and couldn’t help their fangs being out. I was only six and didn’t understand about vampires except the scary stories people told me. But on the plane ride home, my ears were popping because of the altitude, and they hurt. I’d never flown before, and I was crying softly because I didn’t want to be weak around the vampires. But my mom scooped me up in her lap and hugged me. I fought it for a few minutes, but I was really crying about everything, not just my ears hurting, you know? Leaving Russia, leaving the orphanage I’d lived in my whole life, not really understanding where I was going, or why vampires wanted me as their kid. And I remember my mom crying, face all buried against my neck, like she knew it was more than the pain, and she whispered, ‘You’re safe. We’re going to take care of you for always.’ And I remember clutching onto her blouse. She wore this red, silk shirt that was so pr
etty, and I was wrinkling it with my fists and staining it with my tears, but she didn’t care about anything other than holding me.”

  “What did your dad do?” Dustin asked.

  “He was rubbing my back, and when I looked at him, he was crying, too. It was the only time I ever saw him emotional like that, and it was for me. Later they told me they’d tried for babies for so long, but I was meant to be theirs. Meant to change their life. Except I’m pretty sure it was them who were meant to change my life. If I would’ve aged out of the orphanage in Russia, I would’ve had no opportunities. I would’ve had to work the streets, become a mail order bride, or something else terrifying because who was I? A six-year-old with a hearing impairment and no family, no support system, no future. So my something real is I hate when people say bad things about vampires. Sure, some covens are bad, but some crews are bad. Humans have their own villains, too. But nobody says all humans are bad, or all shifters are bad. It’s like there is this understanding that only a small part of the population are idiots. With vampires, though, there was never a time where I explained who my parents were and didn’t get pitied or fear-filled looks. Never. Not once. All vampires are bad according to everyone. But for me, I got to see the other side. The one where my entire coven, twelve strong, stayed together through all the hard times, fought like a normal family and made-up, spent holidays together, and were strong when one of us struggled. I’m proud to be from the Four Devil’s Coven.”

  “Then why are you trying for the Blackwings? If you’re planning on Turning anyway, why leave the family you love? Because let me tell you, if I found that kind of security growing up, I would never leave it.”

  “It was my parent’s suggestion. They said the same to my adopted siblings, Lauren and Enrique. My parents wanted us to experience the sun before we made the decision to Turn.”

  “They want you to Turn?”

  “I thought so, but no, actually. They are the least selfish people I’ve ever met. Before I came here, my mom sat me down on my bed, held my hands, and told me if my future is in the sunlight, she would be so happy for me. She made me promise to give the Blackwing Crew a chance. She told me if it was up to her, I would stay human or turn shifter so I could have a normal life.”

  “Normal,” Dustin murmured, his sandy-blond brows knitted in confusion.

  “Being a shifter is normal to vampires. You get to sleep at night and do all the fun, normal stuff humans get to do during daylight hours. You don’t fear the sun, won’t burn to ashes in a stray sunray. You can find normal jobs, make normal friends, and not have to explain yourself every single time someone finds out you’re a shifter. She made me promise to give this a chance, so here I am, giving it a chance. And if my hearing wasn’t ruined, it would be an easy choice for me.”

  Dustin looked up from the jeans he was folding with a startled look in his blazing eyes. “What would it be?”

  “Now for the make-believe one. You would tell me the mountains of secrets you’ve kept because you trust me. You would date me, fall hard for me, and someday, you would make love to me and know it was right and claim me. I would claim you back, right before the wolf took me. I would sing at a bar in town at nights, all my own songs, and you would watch from a back corner where you would wear this soft smile because you loved the way my voice sounded. We would be happy here, settled, maybe have a couple of cubs, one who looks like you, and one who looks like me. We would raise them in the crew, give them a good support system, and pray to God they didn’t turn out like the other werewolves, but like you instead. Caring. Smart. Empathetic. And every night we would go to sleep in each other’s arms, and we would both be happy, even though our starts in life had never pointed us in that direction.”

  Dustin swallowed hard. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. His voiced sounded odd as he said, “Why is that the make-believe part?”

  Emma shrugged sadly and folded the final T-shirt. “Instinct. Even us humans have it.”

  Dustin got really quiet after that. He helped her finish folding laundry and then popped the popcorn in the little microwave above the mini-fridge. He settled under the covers and pulled her close against him, his lips lingering in her hair. He was shaking ever so slightly. She loved the affection. But she hated it because something was wrong, and he wasn’t telling her what his body did—that he trusted her.

  Lights off, television playing a movie neither one of them cared about, he rubbed her back in gentle circles. On and on Dustin caressed her until her eyelids grew heavy and her body relaxed completely.

  And just when she slipped into the space of dreams, surrounded by Morning Glory meadows and saturated sunlight, a voice whispered to her on the wind. “I’ll love you for two thousand years until I see you again.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Dustin peeled his shirt off as he made his way to the office. John was sitting with his legs crossed at the ankles on top of the small desk. “Hey Dustin, what can I do you for?”

  “John, don’t ask questions, but you need to get into one of the motel rooms, lock yourself in, and don’t come out no matter what you hear.”

  John laughed and then frowned, as if he was waiting for the punch line.

  Dustin flipped off the light switch, dousing them in darkness. His eyes were probably glowing like a demon’s right now. “If you want to live, John, leave. Now.”

  John dropped the romance novel he’d been reading and bolted for the key case, chose a set he wanted, then jogged out the front door.

  Dustin watched him cross the parking lot and disappear into a room on the end of the L-shape. The asphalt was streaked green and blue, reflecting the neon welcome sign at the entrance of the motel. The ground was wet from the storm that had blown through earlier, and the clouds covering the sky churned with warning. Fucking perfect weather for the hell that was going to go down tonight.

  He wasn’t a stupid wolf, and he’d hunted with the pack a thousand times. Jace’s call earlier demanding that he bring Emma was typical bait-and-switch shit. They were coming for Emma, but their timing had to be right. It had to be immediately after he’d left to meet up with Axton. Knowing Dustin wouldn’t risk bringing her himself, Jace would be coming in to retrieve her.

  All he had to do was keep Jace human long enough to pummel his dumb face into unconsciousness. And then he was going to kill him.

  Only it wasn’t Jace’s car that showed up a couple minutes later. It was a white SUV with a license plate that read WRCKERS. Shit. Axton, that fucking poop flake, had involved the Wrecker Pack. Or maybe he was taking them over, hell if Dustin knew. He’d never really been a part of making plans. Come to think of it, he’d never really been part of the pack.

  Wreckers: three wolves. One medium dominance, the other two brawlers, and Dustin shouldn’t be able to take them. Shouldn’t. But when they exited the vehicle and strode right for Emma’s door, something awful happened inside of him. For the first time in his life, Dustin’s wolf reared up, snarling, foaming at the mouth, howling, scratching at the inside of his skin, bleeding red fog that tainted his vision. His inner animal was insane as Dustin pushed open the door and loped across the parking lot.

  His bare feet were silent against the slick concrete, and he stayed low, upwind of them, using the cars in the parking lot for cover. They didn’t speak, only looked at each other with their glowing silver eyes. The alpha twisted his body to the side as if preparing to kick the door in. From the back of his jeans, Dustin pulled the long bowie knife he’d lifted from Logan’s room earlier and sprinted for the closest Wrecker. Dustin dragged the blade across his neck deep enough that no amount of wolf healing would fix him in time, and then he was on the alpha next because Jagger was the real threat. Dustin couldn’t let him Turn, or he was fucked. He needed him wounded before he went to fur, just to give his wolf a chance in the fight.

  Dustin tackled him and slammed the blade at Jagger’s face just as he hit the ground. Jagger was fast, though, and gripped his wrist, stopping the blade an inc
h from his right eye. They would be matched in strength, and he was wasting precious milliseconds with another Wrecker at his back, so Dustin dropped the knife and blasted Jagger in the jaw with his left fist. Two blows were all he got in before he was ripped off and slammed backward into the front of Logan’s truck. A headlight broke against his back. It would’ve hurt if he felt anything right now. The adrenaline was pumping too hard, too fast. Change! Let me have them!

  Jagger’s Second grunted with his Change, and now it was too fucking late anyway. Dustin had to give his body to the wolf and hope for the best. Gritting his teeth, he pushed the Change and caught the Second full in the chest. Fangs and snarling and pain, Dustin fought as though his life depended on it. No, like Emma’s did. He couldn’t let them get to her.

  When the Second’s teeth sank into his shoulder, Dustin clamped down on his neck. It was a bad position, but his wolf was insane with bloodlust right now. Where was Jagger? Dustin gave a glance to Emma’s bedroom where Jagger was there boot up like he was about to kick in the door. Fuck! Dustin threw the Second as hard as he could, jerking his muscular neck, and slammed the wolf into Jagger like a dumbfounded bowling pin. Jagger hit the door with his chest.

  Dustin didn’t give the Second a chance to recover. He was on him before the tan and cream wolf hit the concrete. Teeth and nails and road rash and, God, everything ached, including Dustin’s jaws from ripping fur and flesh. There it was. The angle he’d wanted. The death-grip. Something was distracting the Second, and that was fine. Where was Jagger now? Dustin didn’t release the Second’s neck as the wolf scrabbled for his life. Dustin would endure every bone in his body breaking before he let go this time. Damn though, really…where was Jagger?