Dire Desires: A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan (19 page)

“You’ve really come a long way, Angus.”

This proximity to the man was killing him. Cain’s wolf wanted to smell him, lick him, taste him. Mount him, right here in the woods and he didn’t think Angus would mind. “You’re still playing with fire, Angus. Haven’t learned your damned lesson.”

“Maybe you should teach me,” Angus said.

“You had your chance.” It made him ache to say that. Obviously, the fed had saved Gillian—and Jinx, in the process. “We can’t be seen together, for your sake. Just stay the hell away from the Dires and you’ll live. Take care of yourself, human.”

He pulled himself away from Angus, who looked angry and disappointed. Cain was equally so, but he wouldn’t allow it to cloud his judgment.

He ghosted into the woods and still managed to feel Angus’s eyes on him the entire way back to the mansion.

S
tray found a gold m
ine by sending Killian to break in to the Blackwells’ safety-deposit boxes. He’d gotten the name of the adoption attorney and tracked him down in a nursing home in Ohio and Vice had left several days after Jinx and Gillian were attacked, wanting to make sure that they weren’t going to need to defend themselves against an all-out trapper attack.

Thankfully, the trappers seemed to have no clue that Gillian was a Dire—or a wolf at all, for that matter. That was the word on the street anyway, according to Cyd.

Now, Vice had used his Marine background to get into the man’s room, claiming that he’d been trained under him. No one here batted an eye about the age difference because no one really gave a shit. Not that they expected a wolf to come in seeking information from an almost ninety-year-old man.

Vice said he was a Marine who’d been assigned to visit vets in nursing homes and slipped the man named Walter some good scotch and a cigar. They talked about the Marines and the like, both having coincidentally served in the same battalion, just years apart. Vice didn’t bother telling Walter that he’d actually served first. Guy was confused enough by Vice’s appearance.

But finally, Vice confessed the real reason he was there. “I’m in the PI business these days and I’m trying to help out a friend. She’s pretty desperate to find her birth mother. She needs to know about a certain medical condition. She doesn’t want to mess up the chick’s life or invade in any way. But medical records are pretty important. She was adopted by the Blackwells twenty-one years ago.”

Walter agreed. “That’s a tough one, I know. But it was a private adoption, so the records are sealed. I don’t know how difficult of a time your friend will have with the courts. They’re more open about it today.”

“So you remember the girl?”

“My last case.” Walter stared off into space, like a dog hearing something in the distance and Vice bit back his impatience and sat as still as possible. Kill and Stray weren’t right for this job because they didn’t want to risk influencing an old man whose memories were in and out, depending on the day.

Vice hoped it was a really good day.

Finally, he snapped his fingers and Walter looked back at him like it was the first time he’d seen him. “Son, you wear more jewelry than my wife used to.”

Vice spread his hands in a what-are-you-going-to-do posture as Walter continued, “And all those tattoos? How are you ever going to get a respectable job looking like that, Marine?”

“Heard it all before, old man. Can we move this conversation along?”

Walter stared at him and then broke into a smile. “I like you. You’re not like those sycophant grandkids of mine who’ll say anything to get my money.”

“Not interested in your money. Interested in an adoption you brokered twenty-one years ago, remember?”

“Right. The twins.”

Twins? Yeah, Stray and Killian had good instincts. “I’m talking about one girl—she went to the Blackwells. You’re saying she had a sister?”

“Right, the rich folks. And one of the girls went there. The mother didn’t want them going to the same family. I couldn’t understand why—the Blackwells would’ve been able to take them on, no problem. But she insisted.”

“What was her name and where is the other girl now?” he asked.

“Ah, Vice did you say your name was? My files are all locked up in storage. Can’t fit them all here.”

“Names, Walter. Think. Anything—first, last. City and State.”

The old man scrunched up his face and then shook his head. “I can give you a key to the storage boxes but I can’t remember where they are.”

“Yeah, I’ll take it. I’ll bring it back tomorrow.” He palmed the key and tried again. “Where’s the storage facility?”

Walter scrunched his face up again. Ah shit. “Walter, what hospital were they born in?”

“Not in this state.”

“She had to bring you birth certificates, right?”

“She brought enough money for me to make them,” Walter told him. “I had six kids to feed.”

“Yeah, I get it. I’ll get this key back to you.”

“And some whiskey,” Walter whispered. “They won’t give me any in here.”

“Bastards,” Vice whispered conspiratorially. Left his cell number on the pad on Walter’s nightstand and headed out.

On his way out of the lot, he called Stray. “I’ve got news. Not sure if any of it’s good or not.”

“Way to sell it, Vice.”

•   •   •

Three long weeks had
passed. Gillian had shifted back from Sister Wolf successfully, but the tranquilizer was wreaking havoc with her system. It was made strong enough for a Dire wolf, the way the trappers always made their darts, just in case they ever got the opportunity to grab a Dire again. Gwen was keeping Gillian as calm as possible inside the mansion while trying to flush the long-lasting drug from her system.

Gillian slept through most of the first two weeks anyway, and Jinx hadn’t left her side, spending most of the time in Brother Wolf form on a stretcher right next to her so she could reach out and touch him for comfort.

She did so, often. She dreamed, too, mainly about running—with Jinx. Sister Wolf calmed her, though, and she slept and healed and finally, she woke.

Jinx was next to her on one side, curled up in wolf form. Her hand was buried in the fur in Brother’s neck and she didn’t want to wake him.

“Hey, Gillian.”

Vice’s voice. She turned to find him on the other side of her.

“You’re guarding me too?” He shrugged and flushed a little, and she realized Vice was watching over both her and Jinx. “Thanks, Vice.”

“Just glad you’re okay.”

“Is Jinx okay?”

“He’ll be better now.”

“Rifter was okay with him—with me—staying here?” she asked, her voice hushed.

“He wouldn’t’ve had it any other way.”

She looked over at Jinx and then back at Vice. “Do you think that things between me and Jinx are okay?”

“What do you mean, okay?”

“Like, is he with me here because he . . . pities me?”

“Gillian, is this like a girl moment? Because in case you didn’t notice . . .” He stared down between his legs and back up at her and she fought a laugh.

“You’re the only one who’ll tell me.” She gnawed on her bottom lip for a second and then went for it. “It’s about sex.”

“Jinx will be mad if you have sex with me, yes.”

“Vice, be serious.”

“That is me being serious.” He paused. “Okay, keep going. But no more propositioning me.”

“It’s embarrassing, but I think you’re the right person to talk to about it.”

“That’s me, a regular Dire Dr. Ruth.” And he wasn’t being sarcastic about it in the least. “Come on, hit me, Gillian. Nothing you ask is gonna shock me.”

“Jinx doesn’t want to sleep with me.”

Vice narrowed his eyes. “When you say sleep, you mean . . .”

“Sex.”

“Can we define the term?”

“How is that important?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Intercourse. We had it twice but it’s like . . . he avoids it purposely. We do other things . . . and I like it . . .”

Vice hummed at that and she shook her head and continued, “But I feel like, maybe I’m bad at the sex thing. And I don’t want to ask him because . . .” She looked at Brother Wolf and hoped the wolf wasn’t relaying this to Jinx somehow.

“Ah, okay. Jinx definitely wants to have sex with you. Why he’s not has to do with the mating.”

“The mating.”

“Yeah, it’s a Dire thing. An Elder rule.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s one of the old ways, designed to keep us from screwing everything that moves and never actually doing a full monogamous mating. Sex for us . . . hurts. During orgasm. And we’re not supposed to be with the same person more than twice. It’s a way of making sure we’re serious about mating.”

“So it wouldn’t affect me as much? Because I’m not feeling bad when I . . . you know . . .”

“Come?” he asked bluntly and smiled. His eyes glowed a little and he said, “It wouldn’t be pleasant, but it definitely is more of a guy thing. Trust me, Jinx would like to nail you in every—”

She held up a hand. “I get the picture. Thanks, Vice.”

She sat up and hugged him and his body stiffened, like he wasn’t used to being hugged, or at least not touched gently. But then he put an arm around her, hugged her back and growled, “Don’t do shit like that to me. You’re going to ruin my reputation.”

She wanted to tell him that the baby blanket hanging over his shoulder already kind of did him in, but she refrained. And she was far happier than she’d been ten minutes ago.

“By the way, mating involves a ritual. With chains.”

“He’ll have to chain me up?”

“Other way around, sweetheart.”

“Ah.” Now, she had to convince Jinx that it was the right time to mate. Maybe she’d just drag some kind of chains into his room . . . not subtle, but she’d bet it would be effective.

•   •   •

Gillian purposely waited until Ji
nx woke and went out hunting with Rogue and Vice before she asked Gwen if she could talk to Rifter.

“I need to see him alone,” she said. “I’ve got something important to tell him.”

“I can do that,” Gwen told her and ten minutes later, she brought the big, dark-haired wolf king back to see her.

Gillian had gotten up and dressed in that short time span, and she was sitting in one of the chairs next to the bed when he came in. She started to stand but he shook his head and told her, “It’s okay, Gillian. Mind if I close the door?” he asked, his voice low and she nodded.

Rifter made her nervous and she knew she owed him an apology.

As if he’d read her mind, he started with, “I don’t hold any grudge against you sticking up for Jinx. You’re young. New. And the mating bond is a hard instinct to deal with on top of all you’ve been through.”

“Thank you. For that—for all your help. For letting me stay here with Jinx while I was healing.” She looked into his eyes and noticed for the first time that there was a lot of kindness there—and hurt. He didn’t like what he’d had to do to Jinx. Not at all. “I know Jinx got kicked out—and I know why he did it. He wasn’t out of control—not really. He had to get himself kicked out.”

“You’re saying he got me angry on purpose?” Rifter asked and she nodded. She didn’t say anything else though, and he pulled up a chair and sat next to her. “It’s not betraying him by telling me. I need to know if he’s in trouble. It’s my job, my responsibility to help him. I also want to help him. He’s my brother.”

That last part softened her completely, especially because it was the truth. She could see it in his eyes. He was hurting as much as Jinx was, and that was her sole motivation in telling him what she’d learned.

“He doesn’t know I’m telling you. But it’s time.” She swallowed hard and confessed, “During the time of the Dire ghost army, Jinx accidentally opened purgatory. He was tricked by his father. So that’s why he did it. It wasn’t his fault.”

Rifter stared at her, stunned. “He didn’t want us to know.”

“Can you blame him? He’s been trying to fix it. Rogue’s been trying to help—and Jez, but there’s a lot of . . . things—monsters—that don’t want to go back.”

Rifter just sat there, openmouthed and okay, it was a pretty big deal and a lot to take in. Opening purgatory didn’t happen every day. In fact, had it ever actually been opened before?

“Rifter, purgatory’s completely closed—”

“Okay, that’s good,” he breathed.

“But some things did manage to escape and they’re pretty horrible and threatening to wipe out humankind,” she finished.

“And that’s really, really bad. I need to see Jinx. And Rogue. And Jez. You’re going to have to ask them to come here and don’t tell them what you’ve told me.”

“You’re not going to sell me out?” she asked.

“No. I’m going to get it out of them and get you off the hook. Jinx has enough going on and he’s already trying to alienate himself from you because of all of that. It makes sense now. And I can’t let him push away the best thing that’s ever happened to him,” Rifter told her. “But Gillian, your face is still on wanted posters across the country. . . .”

“You think the Greenland pack will be coming for me.”

“I have no doubt someone’s been keeping up on this news,” he agreed. “They’ll be worried about exposure—that we’ll tell the Elders what they’ve done.”

“The Elders didn’t care what happened to Stray and Killian.”

“That was prophecy. This was something different. Unexpected.” He paused. “Anything else you need to share?”

“You might know this already but I have an ability. I asked Jinx if I could be the one to tell you and he agreed. It’s my speed and strength. And I have no way of knowing if that influenced the Greenland pack’s decision to give me away. . . .”

“But in light of what happened with Stray and Killian, I’m guessing it was more than enough of a reason,” he said tightly.

“I don’t want to run, but I also don’t want to bring trouble onto your pack. Or Jinx. I want to mate with him. Plan to—in the ritual chains way,” she added and Rifter smiled.

“We’ll talk to the Elders about your ceremony once we figure the rest out. For now, you need to lay low and let us figure out the best way to help you.”

“I’ll do anything, Rifter. Just don’t take me away from Jinx. He needs me, especially in light of what’s going on with him.”

•   •   •

Rogue was staring out the window, listenin
g to the hellhounds circling the house. Guarding him. His head throbbed along the side where the glyphs were, and he rubbed the tender skin and wondered how this would all end.

“Gillian told me about Jinx,” Rifter said from behind him. And although Rogue really wished she hadn’t, it was probably for the best.

“And I’m sure you promised her you wouldn’t tell me it was her.”

“Yes. You’d know it was her anyway, and I know you won’t hold a grudge against her.”

That was true. Finally, he turned to face his king. “So now you know.”

“Why didn’t he tell me, Rogue? We’ve been through everything together.” Rifter looked genuinely upset. “I’ve always been a brother—a friend—not just a king.”

It was true—but since mating, Rifter had undergone a significant change. A necessary one. They needed a leader.