Dark Wolf Unbound (Heart of the Shifter #2) (4 page)

But when she didn't let go, the heat of her body seemed to soften his resistance. The coldness that had been gripping him so mercilessly since Melissa's death faded, chased away by the warmth she was pouring into him.

Reluctantly, instinctively, his arms folded around her, pulling her against him. She melted into his embrace, pressing her face into the curve of his neck, as if her relief was as great as his. Protectiveness surged through him, and he suddenly understood the burden she carried, of knowing that her voice was being used to murder innocents...including her own sister. That it would be used to turn her own nephew into one of Grigori's blood-crazed disciples.

"No more," he whispered quietly, just to her. "It ends now."

She pulled back, her eyes glistening with tears. "We can't stop Grigori," she said. "He's taken the blood of a vampire, and he's nearly immortal. I just want to get Seth. That's it."

"We'll get him." But as he made the promise, he couldn't help but wonder what happened after that. Grigori had murdered his own daughter to get Seth the first time. What would he do to get him back a second time? Or what would he do to keep him from being taken?

Silently, he wrapped his hands around Abby's, which was still holding her gun. "You have to make me a promise," he said. "If anyone uses that song on me, and I start to shift, you must shoot me." He grasped the gun and pressed the muzzle to his chest, just over his heart. "One shot to end it. You have to swear on your sister's soul that you will not let me be forced to kill again."

Her eyes widened, and she looked down at the gun pressing against his heart.

"I'm an alpha," he said. "No wolf can stop me if I get in a killing frenzy.
No one.
I'm that fucking good. So, you have to promise. A silver bullet to the heart would stop me, but it has to be in the heart." He paused. "How well can you shoot?"

"I've trained for hundreds of hours. I never miss." She searched his face, and he allowed her to see into his soul, into the blackened, shriveled remains of his soul. He wanted her to argue with him, to say that she could tell he was a good man, one who would never fall down that fucking rabbit hole again. He wanted her to believe in him when he'd already proven that he wasn't worth believing in.

He wanted her to protest, to say that she could see it in his soul that he would be strong enough to resist the song that she knew so well.

But she didn't. Her eyes glistened with new tears, but she nodded. "Okay. I promise to shoot you. Let's go."

T
hree hours later
, Abby was no longer sure she'd made the right choice. Jace had felt the place to start their search was the last place Seth had been, which was her sister's apartment. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but as they rounded the corner of the hallway that led to the abandoned apartment, Abby's hands began to shake, and she paused. Sweat trickled down her spine, and fear knotted her belly.

Jace, who was already at the door of the apartment, glanced back at her. He frowned, then walked back over to her, even his innate grace unable to hide the pain that shocked his system each time he put weight on his broken ankle. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, his voice so quiet that no one else would hear it, no matter who might be around.

"Nothing." She wiped her hands on her jeans, trying not to notice how much they were trembling. "I'm fine."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're afraid of Grigori."

"He was here," she blurted out. "He was in this hallway, maybe right in this very spot, waiting for you to attack my sister so he could grab Seth. I just—I just feel like he's here now, waiting, just like before."

"Hey." Jace took her hand, pressing her palm between his, a gesture she was already beginning to recognize as his way of connecting with her and letting her know that he was on her side. She took a deep breath, focusing on the strength and warmth of his hands as they dwarfed hers. "I know his scent. He's not here." He smiled. "Plus, he'd never make it that easy, right?"

She swallowed, gripping his hands. "I know, but it just...it freaks me out that he was here, right where I'm standing."

"I know." He pushed a strand of hair back from her face, his touch gentle, so much softer than she would ever have expected from him. "You need to understand something about me," he said softly. "I don't believe in killing. I work hard to teach my pack how to control their wolves. I believe compassion brings out the best in people, not force."

She nodded. "I can tell." She'd felt his kindness the first moment she'd heard his voice when he'd been talking to her grandmother. She knew he was different from Grigori, and from all the others. That was why she'd asked him for help. Never would she have gone near him if she'd sensed any of the depravity or violence she'd grown up around. "But—"

"No." He touched his index finger to her lips, silencing her. "I'm not finished. What you need to understand is that I
never
confuse compassion with weakness. As an alpha, I've done whatever it takes to keep my wolves safe, including kill those who needed to be killed. I don't do it for pleasure. I do it as a protector, and my wolf knows the difference. I'm stronger, faster, and more ruthless than anyone." His eyes darkened. "You're under my protection, Abby. I will do whatever it takes to protect you from him, and I can do a great deal."

A wave of heat rushed over her, the powerful surge of his energy as his wolf paced beneath the surface. Her heart stuttered in response to the sheer dominance he gave off. This wasn't the shifter who'd gone down on his knees in submission to her grandmother. This was the alpha who had strung together a pack of misfits and made them honorable, admirable, and so strong that no one had dared try to take them over...no one except Grigori. He was pure power, and he was offering it to her. "That's why Grigori chose you, isn't it?" she asked. "Because you're so powerful, right? He wants to dominate you, because you're the only one strong enough to stop him."

He pressed his lips together, and something passed across his face, an evasiveness that told her that she was wrong. "Partially."

She stiffened. He'd been selected for another reason, a reason he wasn't planning to share. "What haven't you told me, Jace?"

He grimaced. "I was orphaned as a young boy when my parents were killed in a car crash. I was thrown from the car and left to die, but Grigori's father found me and brought me into the pack."

Abby stared at him, shocked by his revelation. "You were in their pack?"

"For six months. The first day I was recovered enough to leave my bed, I was in the woods, testing my leg, when I came across his father training some of the wolves in his pack."

Abby's stomach turned. She'd seen that training. Most wolves didn't survive it. "What happened?"

"I tried to stop him." Jace shrugged. "Grigori's dad kicked my ass, and turned me over to Grigori to kill."

It didn't surprise her at all that Jace had tried to interfere, even when he was a young boy and hopelessly outmatched. "But you're alive." Understanding dawned. "You defeated him, didn't you? And he hates you for it?"

He nodded. "I'd heard the pack had been exterminated, but apparently, I was wrong."

"So, isn't he hunting you, now? You got out of jail. He didn't win." She knew how Grigori worked. The fact that Jace was suffering inside would be worthless to him. He wouldn't stop until Jace was destroyed.

"I've tried to find him, but I can't. I think he's gone underground to develop a new plan." Jace narrowed his eyes. "I'll be ready this time. So will my pack." His eyes darkened. "That day defined who I was. I made it my mission to protect wolves from bastards like Grigori's father. I resolved never to allow my wolf to be like them, and I never have. Until your sister."

She understood now. "That's why he used the song on you, isn't it? He wanted you to become that which you've crusaded against."

"He wanted me to become him." Jace narrowed his eyes. "I won't let him win. No matter what, I will
never
become like the monster I saw that day."

She knew he spoke the truth. His honor was stamped in every line of his body, in every word he spoke, in the way his fingers curved protectively around hers, offering her all he was to keep her safe. The fear that had been suffocating her dissolved, replaced by a feeling of security. Jace was unlike any other male she'd ever known, and she was safe as long as she was with him. "You're incredible," she said softly.

He grinned. "I used to think so, but I'm a little more realistic now." His smile faded and he brushed his knuckles across her jaw. "It gives me hope that you see me that way. I need that."

She tilted her head into his touch. "Me, too."

For a moment, neither of them said anything. It was just a silent, powerful connection between two people who had seen hell and found their way out, half-broken, but somehow still breathing. In his presence, her fear of Grigori faded, replaced by something new and stronger. They'd both survived so much of Grigori's hell. Why couldn't they win one more time?

Something flashed in Jace's eyes. Pain? Guilt? Empathy? "Did you ever live with him?" he asked quietly, his gaze searching hers. "With Grigori?"

She shrugged with the nonchalance that had become her escape from the bitterness of her past. "Until I was seventeen."

"Seventeen." Jace repeated her answer, his eyes glittering. Anger surged in his face, and for a split second, his eyes shifted to the gray-green of his wolf. She sucked in her breath, but he'd regained control before she could even be sure she'd seen it.

He took her hands, his fingers closing on hers. "I won't let him take you again," he said, his voice like steel. "I swear it."

Tears filled her eyes at his fierce words. She wasn't used to someone standing by her side, offering his protection to her. She was so used to being on her own, learning how to fight, to protect herself for the day when Grigori decided to turn his depravity onto her. "It's not about me," she said. "It's about Seth. If you have to choose between us, get him free, not me. I promised my sister."

Jace slipped his hand through her hair, tangling his fingers in the locks that hung over her shoulder, his gaze searching hers. "So brave. Willing to sacrifice yourself to protect another," he whispered, his voice almost reverent. "Such honor in you."

She shook her head. "No, I'm just doing what's right. Seth is still innocent. He deserves a chance to live."

"You're not
just
anything," he interrupted, his voice steely with anger. "Don't let anyone tell you that you are. You're selfless, honorable, and brave, even when you're terrified." His fingers tightened in her hair, and suddenly her breath caught, and she froze. "You're a hell of a woman, Abby."

His gaze went to her mouth, and anticipation raced through her. Was he going to
kiss
her?

"Jace?" she whispered, swallowing as his gaze darkened. Her heart started to hammer. Why was he looking at her like that?

He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes stark with desperate longing. She saw in them the depth of suffering in his soul, the gaping chasm that was sucking him down, the absolute self-hate for what he'd done to her sister. He was a drowning man, sucked into a miasma of hell and damnation that Grigori had plunged him into. She'd seen suffering in her life, plenty of it, but never had she felt the depths of pain that was tormenting him.

"Jace." She grasped the front of his jacket, as if she could hold his head above water and keep him from sinking into the quagmire forever. She wanted to hold him, to kiss him, to do whatever it took to save him from his own hell, one that he'd been plunged into because of her song, and her voice.

His fingers tightened in her hair, a grasp that was almost desperate. "There's so little honor left in this world," he whispered, his voice raw and hoarse. "So little beauty. So little to believe in. Until you."

Her heart seemed to stutter in her chest. No one had ever looked at her with such intensity. No one had ever spoken words like that, words so rich with emotion that they seemed to fill the air between them. "Jace—"

A thump from the apartment made them both jump, breaking the moment. Jace spun away from her, shoving her behind him as he faced the door.

There was another thud, and he leapt toward the door, moving with such speed and agility that she thought he'd actually partially shifted as he moved. He reached the door, kicked it open and charged inside, not even hesitating for a split second.

There was a loud crash, a violent snarl, and then silence.

Abby pulled her gun free and pointed it at the door, her heart thundering. She'd lied to Jace when she'd bragged about her gun skills. She was a sharpshooter when it came to inanimate targets, but never once had she managed to put a bullet into a living creature, not even to save her own mother's life. The gun was for show, a facade that would be exposed the moment someone called her on it. "Jace?" she whispered, her voice quivery.

There were no sounds from the room.

Should she call the police? Go into the room? Damn it.

She couldn't risk calling the police. What if something had happened? Neither of them could afford to be tied down by police bureaucracy, especially Jace, who'd just gotten exonerated from murder charges, a result that most of the people in the city didn't agree with.

Slowly, her heart thundering so loudly she could barely hear above the pounding, she edged down the hallway, her shoulder pressed against the wall. "Jace?" she whispered again, knowing that the shifter could hear her easily.

No response.

Crud
. What had happened in there?

She reached the doorway, but just pressed herself against the wall, unable to make herself leap into the doorway as Jace had done. She took a deep breath, then peeked around the doorframe into the apartment.

China fragments were shattered on the floor, tinged with blood, but there was no sign of Jace. She gripped the gun more tightly, scanning the one-room apartment. The window above the fire escape was open, just like it had been the day her sister had died, and suddenly her heart seemed to congeal. What had happened to Jace? How could he just disappear like that?

Was this a set up? Had Grigori been waiting for her to come back? Had it all been—

The skin on the back of her neck prickled suddenly, but before she could turn, a hand clamped over her mouth, and she was pulled up against a hard body. "Welcome back, Abigail."

Oh, God.
Lucius Stevens.
Her sister's husband. She went cold with terror, and for a split second, she forgot how to breathe, as the familiar voice of Grigori's beta slithered over her like a knife blade. The scars on her stomach from his teeth burned with the reminder of the night he'd attacked her as punishment for standing in the way of what he'd wanted.
He
was involved? She'd thought he was dead. She'd thought this was about Grigori. Dear God, not
Lucius.

"Get inside the apartment," he said, his finger sliding down her wrist and around her gun, prying it from her stiff fingers.

God, no. She could never go anywhere with him. Death was better than being in his hands. As terrified as she was of Grigori, it was Lucius who haunted her nightmares.

His fingers tightened around her neck, and he pressed his body into her, forcing her forward. She knew she couldn't go into the apartment with him. She couldn’t be alone with him. Never again. "No!" She flung herself backwards, slamming the back of her head into his throat. He gagged and stumbled back, releasing her.

"Jace! Help!" She spun around and raced past Lucius, her feet flying as she tore down the hall and hurtled down the steps toward the street. She had to get outside. She had to get to the car. She had to get where there were witnesses. She had to find Jace—

Lucius tackled her, his lithe body shoving her down the stairs. She screamed, grabbing for the railing as she catapulted forward. Her fingers slipped off the slick wood, flailing through empty air as she lunged for it again, the scream lodged in her throat—

Lucius leapt past her and reached the landing below a split second before she did. He caught her just before she hit, and hauled her against him. His ruthless eyes bore down at her, as he fisted her hair and yanked her head back. "Did you really think I'd let you die?" he snapped. "There's so much to do before you get that reprieve, Abigail."

He raised his lips in a snarl, and she saw his face and incisors start to lengthen. She screamed and tried to slam her knee into his groin, but he was ready this time. His arms were like steel bands as he locked her against his body. He shifted partially, with the head of a wolf and the body of a man, a feat that should have been impossible. For a split second, she was too horrified to struggle, and then, too late, she saw his teeth coming for her throat.