Nothing. Dammit. She let go of the book, closed her eyes and concentrated.
I know you lied to me, Rogue. I know it . . . But why . . . ?
She thought back over what he’d told her and the events of the past days.
Something about
a wolf in sheep’s clothing
. . .
She let out a small gasp and turned to Rogue. “Okay, I’ve got it. It’s a long shot, and it’s all got to be done in tandem, but I’ve got it.”
She touched his hair and heard the word
thanks.
Not
thank you
, as Rogue usually said to her when she’d made the same exact gesture twice before, and she knew she had it right this time.
Then she exited the room as she wiped a few tears from her eyes. She planned on keeping this to herself for the moment. Because none of it would be easy. It would have to be planned perfectly.
And it could all go so horribly wrong.
Chapter 46
A
fter the meeting with Jinx and Jez happened and plans were set, Jinx ordered Cain to stay away from Angus. Now, in the rooms at the end of the Dire tunnels, Cain argued with Cyd.
“He’s not a bad guy. He’s not like Shimmin. He’s just . . . human,” Cain told his brother.
“Then friend him on Facebook, but in real life, avoid,” Cyd told him. He stripped and headed toward the bathroom. Cain stood there for a few minutes and pondered on whether his brother was right.
The intel Angus had given him could be a big fat trap, although Rifter and the other Dires didn’t seem to think so. Still, Cain had done what Jinx said, systematically avoiding Angus’s many urgent phone messages that all said the same thing.
Come back and let me the hell out.
Where the hell could the human go that he wouldn’t be marked for death?
When Cyd came out, shaking off water droplets like the wolf he was, he grabbed his phone. “Text message from Jez. Angus is gone. Jez claims he heard a racket but didn’t investigate. Found the door yanked off its hinges—must’ve done it with a knife when he couldn’t get through the bolts.”
“Vampires,” Cain muttered. “Why the hell not?”
“He said he thought it was the Were couple—you know, Sharon and Mike Muha and their new werepups, Stephen and Annie? Talk about moon crazed,” Cyd explained. “Jinx wants to know if you can scent Angus. We’ll go together, but you spent more time with him.”
There was no rancor in his twin’s tone—he was simply stating a truth. He’d never cared that Cain’s preferences ran toward men. Maybe because they’d spent a lot of time with Vice, who didn’t discriminate. Wolves in general weren’t picky—most just also came equipped with the strong urge to procreate. “Let’s go make sure he’s not with Shimmin.”
“You don’t think he is, do you?” Cyd asked as he threw clothes on.
“I don’t. I wish I did,” he muttered, because it would be a hell of a lot easier to reconsider his feelings for a human.
They drove one of the trucks through town. The rain had started that morning, the air warm and supernatural lightning scored the darkening sky.
Cain caught Angus’s scent right up to the building’s parking lot. “He stole a car. I doubt he’s still in town.”
He didn’t want to think about
why
the human had left.
You drove him away.
And Angus was safer for it. Unless . . .
“We need to check Shimmin,” Cain said after they scoured the apartment. The fed had gotten out of the steel door using brute force Cain’s wolf would’ve approved of. Cain felt the swell of admiration for the man even as the anger rose hot inside of him. He didn’t scent Shimmin anywhere around, but they couldn’t be sure.
“Shouldn’t we bring a Dire?” Cyd asked.
“No. This is my problem.”
“Yours is mine,” Cyd growled. Younger by ten minutes, Cyd was as overprotective of Cain as any big brother.
“And both of yours is mine,” Vice said from behind them as he surveyed the apartment.
“We’re Jinx’s.”
“You’re all of ours,” Vice corrected.
“We still have work to do,” Cain said, tried to slide out past the Dire.
“What happened between you and Angus?” Vice asked, but Cain just shrugged and kept moving. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
Cain turned. “I got too close.”
“And stupid. Remember, we don’t get close to humans.”
“Tell that to Rifter.”
“Gwen’s a wolf,” Vice said. “No human I know can shift like that, so unless Angus has some superpowers—”
“He’s gone. He won’t work for Shimmin. Can we drop it?”
“You know that for sure?”
“Yes.” He was lying. Vice knew it but didn’t call him on it. Cain just had to pray he was right about Angus, and that the agent would stay far away from all his newfound discoveries.
Together the three wolves roamed the woods around the apartment, catching no scent of Angus and a little of Shimmin’s, which wasn’t surprising.
And when they’d finished and the skies opened up, they dried inside the truck as they drove back.
Vice put his phone on speaker when Stray called.
“As of several days ago, the FBI claims Angus Young no longer works for them in any capacity. The man’s officially dropped off the face of the earth,” Stray reported.
Cain nodded, like it didn’t matter. Wished it didn’t. And when he got home, he went into his room and shut the door and returned the message.
Angus had been calling him all fucking afternoon. Cain had avoided him, hadn’t been ready to hear what the human had to say.
Now he had no choice. “Did you tell me the truth?”
“You know I did.” Angus’s voice sounded far away. Cain could hear the wind whipping through open car windows over the line, the heavy beat of rock music in the background. Angus was very much alone.
“He’s going to come after you.”
“I’ve got people to watch my back, all right? They’ll keep me away from Shimmin.”
“You’re too fucking trusting.” Cain fisted his hand around the phone. “Where will you go?”
“Gotta do what a man’s gotta do, Cain.” A pause. “Stop worrying about me.”
“Then do something to make me.”
“That’s exactly where I’m headed,” Angus told him. Cain didn’t push him further.
“What does Shimmin know?” Cain asked.
“What you are,” Angus said. “Look, he’s one of those guys who wants all my intel and barely gives any of his own. But I gave you the best intel I got. Nearly died for it. Now I have a job to do.”
“According to my sources, not anymore.”
“It might not pay me, but it’s a job. Watch out for yourself, wolf.”
Angus didn’t wait for Cain to answer before he hung up, but the emphasis on the word
wolf
was softer than the rest of the man’s words.
Chapter 47
S
tray slept until Kate called to him. There was no danger but rather an urgency and he was out of bed and in the bathroom in seconds, slamming the door open to find her facing him. The way she looked, hair tumbling over her shoulders, the towel she held across her front barely covering her, steam curling around the edges of the room . . . all of it took his damned breath away.
“Didn’t mean to bust in. But you call, I come.”
She gave a small smile, but it wasn’t all that shy. “I know.”
Jesus, he was slow sometimes. “Wait, you called me in here on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re not in danger. The rule was—”
She dropped the towel and fuck the rule.
Fuck the rule
.
He didn’t give her a chance to beg off or change her mind. Couldn’t. Her body called to him in a way he’d never be able to forget, even if he needed to.
And he would need to. He was sure of it.
She didn’t hesitate to put her hands on his shoulders, to accept the hard kiss that brought their bodies together in an embrace that made them both gasp.
The fire between them was undeniable. He ran his fingertips over her back where the brand once was and watched her face mist over with pleasure. The touch hit him as a stroke to the groin. If he hadn’t known it before, he did now. They were connected. Bonded.
She didn’t know if living with wolves made her more feral or if it was the acquisition of the powers, but she couldn’t shake the need to go to him and she didn’t try to.
He slaked her need just like that night in the rain outside of Lila’s house. And he seemed to be the only one able to truly make her feel.
Her nipples tightened, skin tingled as Stray howled and she didn’t care that the others would know what was happening. She realized she was the prude—the wolves found all of this natural.
Her mouth suckled a tender spot she’d discovered right behind his ear and he growled, his grip tightening on her hips.
“I want you,” she purred against his ear, and she was lifted and carried without hesitation to the bed and then whisked her shirt off.
He mouthed her nipples, biting them gently, his sharp canines sending waves of pleasure through her.
Naked, writhing under him, her core bloomed for him as he got as naked as she was.
“I want this, Kate. I’ve been wanting it, you,” he told her before he dipped his head between her legs and licked her, brought her to the edge and didn’t stop when she whimpered with frustration laced with pleasure. She wanted him—all of him—and he didn’t make her wait long, entered her with a long, slow stroke and then let her lay claim to him. They rocked against each other, pulling and writhing until their climaxes swelled together, and they murmured each other’s names into their mouths as they kissed. It was a greeting, a good-bye to all things past—a welcome to whatever was to come, good or bad.
It was everything.
* * *
Kate snuggled in Stray’s arms in a way she feared she was getting far too used to. They didn’t have long before the battle would begin, but Stray insisted they make the most of this time.
And they had.
“Kate?” he asked now, and she heard slight surprise in his tone.
“Yeah?”
“We’re floating.”
“What?” She looked over her shoulder and saw they were hovering above the bed. “Good. It’s about time all of this kicked in.”
She stared at the bed and concentrated on bringing them down again, slowly. They lowered and then fell the last foot with a hard jolt. “Shit—sorry. I’ll work on that.”
He was staring at her, not caring about the landing. “Something’s changed.”
“I have a plan. I understand what needs to happen to defeat him.”
“Don’t tell me,” Stray said. “Keep me the hell out of your mind, for your sake.”
“I will. That’s why I called for you. I wanted to make sure I could.”
It was his turn to concentrate now, tried to break into her mind, so to speak. But based on what Rogue told her days ago, she finally realized what she needed to do.
“I can’t hear a damned thing,” he said regretfully. “I don’t like not being able to hear you. Everyone else, yes, but you . . .”
“I know. I’ll let you back in as soon as I can. When I need to. And then I won’t lock you out again. I promise.”
“Never again,” he said.
“That’s a really long time, you know.”
“I’m still getting used to the concept myself,” Stray said. “It’s one thing not to die when you’re killed. Another to think of a sprawl of centuries that lie ahead.”
“What do your brothers say about it?”
“They don’t talk about it much. It is what it is. The hardest part for them was going all this time without mates.”
“So Rifter waited centuries for Gwen?”
“He thought he’d never have a mate, so it was a surprise,” Stray admitted. “They didn’t think there were any Dire females left to mate with. I knew there were some, but based on the way they treated me, none of these wolves would have them.”
“So you can only mate with Dires.”
“Gwen’s an exception, since she’s half Dire, half human.”
“Are there other exceptions?”
He pressed his lips together in a grim line for a few seconds, then said, “The mating rules are pretty specific. And they involve the female shifting into wolf form to complete it. It also involves pain for me. But then again, orgasms without mating always cause pain.”
She stroked his cheek. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”
“It’s worth it. It’s left over from the old ways. The Elders never thought we should be having casual sex—mating was the way to go.”
“So they left you with no mates and in pain? They sound cruel.”
“I think they’ve just lost sight of their charges. They were Dires once too, lived among us.” Stray shrugged. “Maybe one day they’ll realize they need to change some things, but I’m not holding my breath.”
“You can understand what the witch did,” she said quietly. “Because you might have done the same thing if it were possible.”
He paused, considering that. “I couldn’t imagine passing on my legacy to a young child, but, for me and the rest of the Dires, the thought can be tempting. When Vice learned that Gwen’s blood contained the power to kill the immortal Dires, he flipped out, not because of the danger, but because of the possibilities. Our lives—theirs, centuries long—could finally end.”
“You lived with your powers for much longer than I have,” she noted. “Maybe I have nothing to complain about.”
“You’re not complaining—you’re being honest. You’ve had a lot to deal with in a short period of time. And you’ve been warrior stoic about it, for the most part.”
“So your brothers came to grips with Gwen and what her blood can do?”
“Killing themselves would mean killing Gwen, and she’d been dying for nearly half her life from seizures. She fought to live, found her king and her family. None of us were willing to sacrifice her happiness for our own selfish motives.”
“I always did like a good love story. Is there a marriage ceremony?”
“There are different steps. Some of them involve chains and others, the moon.”
“Can you tell me more about the chains?” she asked innocently.
“One day, I’d like to show you.”
* * *
Hours later, the skies opened again. Kate thought of the raindrops as Seb’s tears, his anger and pain at having to let go of Lila, and even with that, she knew she’d have no sympathy for him when the time came.
The time is here.
And it was. Lightning flashed, thunder rolled and, hopefully, humans stayed inside where they belonged.
And you’re not thinking of yourself as human anymore.
She put her palms to the window, her breath making steam against the glass. There was nothing else out there now. The threat was waiting for them at Pinewood, squaring off, having no idea that the Dires planned on fighting, not running.
They were in for the surprise of their lives. Or deaths, as it were.
Stray once told her that the ragtag army they’d pulled together had to be enough. Tonight she was confident that it was more than enough. With some of the Weres following Liam, the immortal Dires, including Harm and Kill, as well as Jez, they would fight and win.
She and Gwen would stay behind with Rogue and wage their own battle. It was safest that way—and they hadn’t given her an option. She didn’t argue much, because it was exactly what she wanted.
The best wolves—and witch—would win. There was no other option.
“Want to talk about what’s bothering you before we take the field?” Stray asked quietly from behind her. “And no, I’m not reading you—I still can’t. I just know you well.”
That last part warmed her, although in this case, she’d much prefer not to discuss it out loud at all. But she knew she had to, for all their sakes. She’d been struggling not only with staying, but with keeping her powers.
If she chose to keep them, she would be deadly, and thus there would be another decision to make. But first things first. “I don’t know if I can keep these powers. And I’ve been thinking . . . what if I include something in the powers that will compel the new . . . owner, so to speak, to give them up when he or she reaches the right age?”
“So you’re giving the powers to an innocent and condemning them to death, one every ten years.”
“Better one than potential millions,” she said quietly, finally turning to meet his gaze. It was serious and sad at the same time. None of this sat well with her either, but her options were limited.
“So you’re willing to die.”
“Yes.”
“I won’t let you.”
“I can’t be used against you. I won’t.” She paused. “I’d be yours until I die.”
“You’d die immediately, Kate. There’s no way to give back your powers and live out your normal life.”
She wrapped her arms around herself.
“I can’t tell you what to do with this. I don’t know what I’d do if an opportunity presented itself to me to end things. I’ve been on this earth seventy-five years—my brothers, a lot longer. They struggled when they found out Gwen’s blood could kill them, put them to rest. But they’d never use it because they love her. Still, I don’t know what they’d do if they found another way out.” He paused. “It’s not going to be easy, but I think that nothing worth having is.”
“I don’t want to hurt people.”
“Then don’t.”
It couldn’t be that simple, could it? She looked into Stray’s eyes and realized that, if she gave away her powers, she’d never know.
“Lila picked you because she knew this was your destiny. Your mother tried to change it. I tried to change mine, and things were worse than they would’ve been otherwise.”
“But then you never would’ve met me,” she pointed out. “I wonder if Lila knew that. She could tell the future.”
“I don’t need her to tell me mine. She’s standing right in front of me.”