by L Ann
“Deacon, I will not ask you again,” she warned.
“That’s great,” he nodded, closing the kitchen door and prowling over to stand behind Gemma. “Because I really don’t enjoy repeating myself.”
Deacon’s hands curved over her shoulders, and Gemma tipped her head back to lean against his stomach. His thumb caressed the back of her neck, beneath her hair.
“I heard a rumour that Damien is here.”
Deacon’s hands tightened painfully on her shoulders. “Not anymore.”
“You let him go?” Isabella demanded, surprised.
“Not exactly.”
“Shaun killed him,” Cassie whispered. “And now he’s gone.”
“Shaun did what?” Isabella spun to face Cassie.
“That’s our cue to leave,” Gemma heard Deacon mutter close to her ear.
“I can’t leave, she’s my sister. She needs me.”
“Isabella will stay with her. We need to go back to town, to your house. There’s something there I need to find.”
They took his bike back to town. Deacon needed the feeling of freedom it gave him, instead of being cooped up inside a car. Gemma leaned against his back, her arms tight around his waist. He knew she hadn’t had time to process Damien’s death yet, and he was determined to keep her busy and her mind occupied on other things for as long as he could. He pulled up outside her house and let the engine idle while Gemma climbed off.
“It’s Saturday,” she said, sounding surprised. “I’m supposed to go to work tonight.”
Deacon shrugged. “Quit.”
“I’ve only just gone back.”
“So?” He cut the engine and dismounted, pocketing the key.
“Hard as it is to believe with all the insanity that comes with your life, I have to earn money and pay bills.”
“So quit and take some time to find something else to do.”
“Like what?”
He glanced over at her as they walked up the path. “You could be my secretary.” His eyes brightened. “Yeah, that would work. You could wear those tight short skirts and high heels. Take my dick…. tation,” he finished with a grin. “I’ll even let you seduce the boss.”
“Do you even have an office?”
“Well, no. But if you’re seriously considering my job offer, I’ll get one.”
“Is this secretary fetish something I should be worried about?”
“Is imagining you bent over my desk and calling me sir a fetish? I’d say it was more a healthy appreciation for how hot my new mate is.”
“That’s very shallow.” Gemma unlocked the front door and stepped inside.
“I am shallow. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He smirked at the dark look she threw at him.
“Why do you do that?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Starshine. What is it I’m doing?” He moved toward the kitchen, knowing she would follow him.
“You pretend you don’t care, that you’re all about the fun and the laughs. Never taking anything too seriously.”
“Am I pretending?” He searched the room, looking for where Damien might have hidden a package.
“Deacon, stop it!” He heard her step up behind him and straightened, turned to face her. “You can’t hide it from me. Not anymore.”
“If I’d known your wolf would insist on meddling this much, I’d have–”
“You’d have what?” Gemma spoke over him. “You’d have had second thoughts? You wouldn’t have finished the mate thing?”
“I’d have made it a lot more clear who the dominant wolf in this relationship was,” he finished slowly.
“Oh? And how would you do that?” She crossed her arms and glared at him.
Deacon fought down a grin. “It’d be easy,” he said, keeping his voice slow and soft. “I’d take hold of my new hot mate, peel down those jeans and panties she still insists on wearing, drag her over my lap and spank her ass until it was red.” He advanced toward her. “I’d make her count and thank me for each time my palm landed. And when I was done, and her ass was hot and red and sore, I’d see how wet and desperate she was for me.” Another step and he was chest to breast with her. He bent his head, his lips millimetres from hers. “And then I’d make her beg me for more,” he whispered.
Gemma’s breath hitched, and her tongue came out to swipe across dry lips. “Maybe … Maybe I’d be the one issuing the spanking,” she croaked out.
He held her eyes, breathing in her scent, the spike of desire, and then he threw back his head and laughed. “Maybe I’d let you.”
Gemma sighed. “You’re so annoying.”
Still chuckling, he returned to his search. “I hear that a lot.” He could feel her watching as he pulled open doors and bent to look through cupboards.
“What are you looking for?”
“Damien left something here.”
“Here? In my house?”
“Yeah, yesterday. I stupidly assumed he’d leave it somewhere easy to find. He said it was a package and–” he stopped abruptly and swore beneath his breath.
Gemma followed behind him as he left the kitchen and went upstairs. Throwing open the bedroom door, he swore again. “The fucker. I should have known.” Someone had propped a large thick brown envelope against the pillows on her bed.
“I want you to give up the lease on this place,” he said, crossing the room to pick up the envelope.
“What? No!”
“I’ll buy you a house anywhere you want, if you don’t want to move into the Sanctuary with me. But, for my own sanity, I need you out of this house, Gemma.”
Her eyes were on the envelope and he waited for his words to sink in.
“Wait … you want me to move in with you?”
Deacon cocked an eyebrow, throwing her a quizzical look. “We’re mated. What did you think that meant?”
“I hadn’t really thought about it,” she replied slowly.
“You mean other than the great sex on tap whenever you want it?” He shook his head at her. “You’ve got such a one-track mind, Starshine. I’m just a sex toy to you.” He tucked the envelope into his jacket and retraced his steps downstairs.
“You’re doing it again,” Gemma called in exasperation.
“I’m not doing anything. What are you accusing me of, now?”
“Deflection. You did it back at the house as well.”
“Speaking of Sanctuary, did you want to take anything back with you?”
“Deacon, will you please stop!” She grabbed his arm and he spun to face her. “If you can’t be honest with me, who can you be honest with?”
“You’re my mate, Gemma, not my therapist.” The teasing note had dropped from his voice, leaving a rough growl behind.
“So I’m supposed to just watch in silence while you make everyone else forget their problems and take them all on your own shoulders?”
“I think you’re mixing me up with Shaun, sweetheart. That’s not who I am. If you wanted a sharer, you picked the wrong wolf.”
“God, you’re such an asshole,” she yelled at him. “Fine! Be the strong tough guy who needs nothing.” Gemma pushed past him and stormed out of the house.
He groaned, put on a burst of speed and caught her before she reached the end of the path. “Gemma, wait.”
She turned to face him, arms folded across her chest, one foot tapping, and Deacon couldn’t help but slow his pace and appreciate the image she presented. He could almost see the sparks of her irritation and he realised he wanted nothing more than to let them burn him.
“I don’t adapt to change well,” he said once he reached her. “Shaun is the only one who can read me so easily, and not so much since he … “ he shrugged. “Since his addiction.” He held out a hand. “Come back indoors and I’ll try to explain.”
“Explain or find more reasons to change the subject?” she challenged.
“No, you’re right, Starshine. If this is going to work between us, I have to let you in. I can’t demand
you share yourself with me, if I won’t do the same.”
His hand hovered between them and he forced himself to wait instead of pushing for her to follow his lead. She held his eyes and, after what felt like a lifetime, his patience was rewarded. She took his hand in hers and walked back inside.
Gemma paused at the door to her living room and Deacon shook his head, continuing to the kitchen.
“Why do we always end up in the kitchen?” Gemma asked.
His lips quirked into a quick smile. “It’s a Pack thing. We gravitate to warmth and food. The kitchen is our communal area – where we can all come together regardless of our Pack position. No politics, just friendship and food.” He vented a soft laugh. “Food is pretty important to us. We have high metabolisms. We burn energy faster, so have to eat more often. A hungry wolf is a dangerous wolf.”
He waved a hand toward the chairs around the table, pulled one out, flipped it around and straddled it, resting his arms across the back.
“As our mate-link settles, you’ll start feeling the Pack. Nothing hugely life-changing, at first. It’s a little like feeling someone brush their hand across the back of your head. They can’t feel or read your emotions, or hear what you’re thinking and you can’t do it back. The Alpha of the Pack works slightly differently. He can invade your head if he wants to. Thankfully, we have an Alpha who prefers less invasive methods to get answers, but you should know it is something an Alpha can do if he chooses. Right now, even though we’re mated, you’re not technically a true Pack member. There’s a ritual for that.” He grinned. “Wolves do like their rituals. We haven’t had time to do that for Cassie yet, so Mac will work it out so you’ll both be inducted, for want of a better word, together.”
“Are you avoiding the subject again?” Gemma leaned against the table.
Deacon huffed a laugh. “No. I’m trying to figure out how to do this.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Mac always talks about how I don’t buy into the whole twins having a connection thing. He knows it’s bullshit, but he lets me have my fantasy.”
“I don’t understand. There’s no such thing or you do believe it’s a thing?”
“Oh, it’s definitely a thing. Growing up, Shaun and I always knew what the other was thinking, feeling, the whole works. We could finish each other’s sentences. There was an awareness between us that isn’t between the rest of the Pack members. It’s closer to a mate-link. That trickle of emotion you feel if I’m not concentrating on muting it? Imagine that times ten.
“When Shaun got taken the first time, I’d wake up feeling like I broke my ribs, or my nose. I’d have black eyes and swollen knuckles. When they drugged him, I fell down the rabbit hole with him – all the effects, none of the addiction. I had no fucking clue what was going on. All I knew was that Shaun had gotten himself into something, and I was suffering invisibly alongside him. The drug had the connection wide open. Everything he did while hooked on it, I might as well have stood right next to him and joined in. I had to lock down the connection just to survive, to function.”
Deacon’s voice dropped, lost in the memories he was recounting. “He doesn’t talk about what happened, what they did to him, the lengths they went to in their attempts to break him, but I know, Gemma. I know what they did to him.” He closed his eyes, swallowed. “When we got him back, he was a mess. If he had any idea, if he found out I knew what he went through, that I’d felt it all, it would have destroyed the fragile grip he still had on his sanity. So I began to deflect, as you called it. Smoke and mirrors. Don’t look over here, look over there.” He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. “When you do something for so long, it becomes a habit. Something you don’t think about.” He stood abruptly, hooked his fingers into the belt loops of her jeans and pulled her against him. “I can’t promise that’ll change overnight and there will be times when I don’t want you to feel what I’m feeling. Having lived as a human for so long, you should be able to understand that. But I’ll try not to deflect from you.”
She leaned her head against his chest and her arms crept around his waist. Deacon pressed a kiss to the top of her head and looped his arms around her.
“Of course,” he said, a teasing tone entering his voice, “if you tell anyone my secrets, I’ll deny everything and withhold sex for a month.”
Her laughter made him grin. “You’ll break long before I do.”
“Is that a challenge?” He pulled back. “Are we really going to start this relationship with a celibacy challenge?”
“No, Deacon, we’re not.” Her hand slid down his back. “We’re going to discuss what’s in this envelope.”
He swore and moved, grabbing for the envelope as she plucked it from his jacket. “Gemma, let me open it.”
Gemma moved out of his arms, evading his hands as he lunged for the envelope again. “You and Shaun are more alike than you think,” she told him, dodging around to the opposite side of the table. “You try to protect me as much as he tries to protect Cassie.”
“It’s not the same. We don’t know what’s in that envelope.”
“He’s dead, Deacon. He can’t hurt me any more.”
Deacon dived across the table and snatched the envelope from her. When she tried to grab it back, he lifted his arm above his head. “I’m not saying I won’t let you see what’s inside. Just let me look first … ouch… what was that for?” He sidestepped when she swung her leg to kick him again.
“Just open the damned envelope!”
“I’d rather wait until we’re back at the Sanctuary.”
“You mean when you and Cormac can disappear into his study without me?”
“He’s the Alpha of the Pack, Starshine. It’s the way we do things.”
Gemma sniffed. “You’re such a liar. We both know you’ll ignore whatever your Pack laws are if it suits your purpose.”
He couldn’t help but grin at her perceptiveness. “Okay, I admit, you got me there. But this time, I’m serious. Mac should be the one to open this.” He stuffed the envelope back in his jacket. “Come on, let’s head back.”
“Are you really kicking the door while Cormac is inside?” Roxie asked, having watched Gemma kick repeatedly at the bottom of the door with her foot while calling both men inside every insult she could think of. “You’re braver than I am.”
“If the assholes hadn’t ignored me,” she shrieked loud enough to be heard inside, “it wouldn’t be happening.”
“You really do not understand anything about how the Pack works, do you?” Roxie giggled. “I wish I could see their faces.”
Gemma froze. “Do they lock the door?” she asked.
Roxy’s eyes rounded. “You wouldn’t?” she breathed.
“Oh, believe me, I would and I will.” Gemma grasped the hand and turned it, the door swinging open on silent hinges. “It’s a well-known fact that if you want to keep someone out of somewhere, you lock the ….” Her voice trailed off when she realised Cormac and Deacon were both leaning against the desk watching her.
“Man, I was sure she’d be quicker than that.” Deacon drawled and handed Cormac a folded bill.
“I’m fairly sure she made some of those curses up on the fly, though. You have to give her credit for that,” Cormac replied.
“I honestly thought I was going to have to come out and get you,” Deacon told her. “Who knew you could be so patient?”
“Patient? Patient? You’re in here listening to me and,” she looked down at the hundred-dollar bill in Cormac’s hand, “taking bets?”
“Don’t look at me,” Cormac said, pushing himself away from the desk and walking around to sit in the chair on the opposite side. “Everybody knows I have no control over Deacon. Our mother should have named him Loki. She swore he was the God of Mischief born again.”
“You are going to pay for this, Deacon,” she warned him.
Deacon snorted. “Can’t wait.”
“All right, children. Fun time is over. Can we get started now?” Co
rmac tapped his fingers on the desk, drawing both their attention to him. “Gemma, if you would close the door please and then pull up a chair.”
While Gemma closed the door, Deacon hooked a foot around a chair and dragged it over so it was beside his.
“Has Shaun come back yet?” she asked as she settled onto the seat.
“No,” Cormac replied. “He needs a day or two. Deacon can find him if we need him.”
Gemma twisted to look at her new mate. “Is that true?”
Deacon’s smile was crooked. “I can find anything if I put my mind to it. Tracking Shaun won’t be a problem.” He slouched on the seat. “He won’t go far, anyway. He won’t leave Cassie. Like I told her, he just needs some time to get his head together.”
“Deacon insisted you should be present when we opened the envelope Damien left for us.”
“He … did?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Starshine, it’s bad for my ego.”
“After the fight you put up back in town about it, I am surprised.”
“Smoke and mirrors, baby,” he drawled.
Cormac’s eyes drifted from one to the other, and he shook his head. “I don’t even want to know what he’s talking about.” He slid the envelope across the desk to Gemma. “Go on. Open it.”
Gemma stared at the envelope but didn’t take it. “I …” Now it was there in front of her, she didn’t want to touch it.
Without looking at her, Deacon leaned forward, picked it up and tore it open. Holding it open, he looked inside, then reached in and pulled out a smaller white envelope and three or four sheets of paper stapled together.
Turning over the small envelope, he looked at the front. “It’s addressed to Shaun.” He placed that onto the desk and flicked through the pages. “It’s addresses of the different Sects, names, phone numbers.” He turned the page. “A list of names - shifters who went missing. I assume the Hunters got them.” When he turned the page, he drew in a sharp breath.
“What is it?” Cormac asked.
“The ingredients for the belladonna drug and a list of all the people who he knew had been dosed and conditioned. There’s a key stuck to the bottom with an address. A locker, maybe?”