Dire Desires: A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan (4 page)

T
he tru
ck was halfway down the driveway when Jinx slammed out of the moving vehicle, ignoring Jez’s cursing. He was halfway across the yard in the dusk at record speed until he stood directly in front of his brother.

“You’re not a fucking ghost, are you?” he breathed and Rogue shook his head, which was shaved and covered in markings on the left side of his skull and cheek. He wore a black wife beater and old jeans and he looked nothing like the wolf he’d grown up with.

Everything about Rogue had changed, and Jinx didn’t know how he’d failed to notice the transformation over the past six months.

Because you didn’t want to.

“I’m very much alive,” Rogue said finally, his voice a rasp.

“Vice said . . . he said you’d call. But you didn’t.”

Rogue didn’t look surprised. “No, I didn’t.”

“I didn’t feel you,” Jinx confessed.

“It took for you to be close to the house before you were on my radar,” Rogue told him. “Maybe it’ll never come back for you. Maybe it’s not meant to.”

“Right. Because I’d corrupt you and your gift.” Jinx didn’t mean to sound so bitter but Rogue was acting like he was a perfect goddamned stranger. Granted, he hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome wagon or raced over here when Vice filled him in, but he’d convinced himself that he was helping Rogue, keeping his secret until he was ready for his big reveal to King Rifter and the others.

But it wasn’t that at all. He was scared to see Rogue, and he still wasn’t exactly sure why. As he scanned his twin’s face, he noted no judgment in his expression, but it had to be there. Jinx judged himself too harshly to not believe another Dire would.

“I missed you, brother,” Rogue said quietly.

Jinx swallowed hard, wanted to reach out and touch the markings from hell on Rogue’s face and skull, wanted to tell his twin that everything would be all right, just the way Rogue had done for him a zillion times since childhood. But his throat tightened and his head spun. He simply nodded and Rogue’s brows furrowed.

He flashed back to the night he discovered Rogue and Rifter had been captured. He was supposed to be there, but he’d gotten held up at a haunting. If he’d been there . . .

“If you’d been there, you’d have been captured too. I’d never have wanted that.”

That twinsense had obviously come back for Rogue, but still not for Jinx. Or maybe Rogue was simply reading the guilt that Jinx was sure plastered his expression.

“You blame me,” Jinx said.

“You’re wrong.”

But he wasn’t—Jinx could see it in the man’s eyes. A lifetime of brotherly fuckups and now it came down to this. Rogue had always been the stronger one, the one who could manage to balance heaven and hell and everything in between, while Jinx only had to deal with the ghosts who were lonely or confused.

Rogue’s ability was always more dangerous and it had taken a toll on him. Jinx would never forgive himself for any of it, even though he never could’ve taken the wolf’s place.

“Jinx, please—”

“I’m just glad you were able to let us know what to do with the Dire ghost army.”

“I knew you’d figure it out.” Rogue’s voice was raspy and he looked pale. Jinx knew he needed to shift soon.

“Yeah, Brother Wolf is begging,” Rogue agreed. He couldn’t read minds but they’d always had that twin thing happening. “Ask the question you want to.”

“Did you know—about purgatory? Did you know before I opened it that it would happen?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You knew what I was going to do and you didn’t stop me?” Jinx growled—Rogue barely blinked. “Come on you fucker—fight!”

But Rogue wouldn’t, still frustratingly calm and collected, even after six months in literal hell. Jinx turned to leave, stopping when Rogue called, “Going back to your deadhead?”

“He’s not my deadhead,” Jinx said through gritted teeth.

Rogue snorted in response and Jinx was probably more pissed because he was going to see Jez. Because he refused to live in the mansion again and it had nothing to do with the fact that Rifter hadn’t invited him. No, he would not come back here.

He and Jez formed a semi-uneasy alliance. Neither would vacate the penthouse so they both stayed there. Jinx told himself it was more helpful to the humans that way, but he’d wanted to know more about Jez and the men. Needed to keep an eye on the deadhead, all the while knowing the vamp was doing the exact same thing to him.

“What else do you know that you’re not telling me?” Jinx called to him. This time, Rogue stopped, turned back until he and Jinx were back in punching distance.

“I know that some . . . things escaped.” He shuddered as he spoke the word
things
.

“And you know I need your help to vanquish them.”

“You should stay away from me for now. I’m too vulnerable.”

“If you’re vulnerable, you should be with me,” Jinx argued.

“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way. I’m a liability to you.”

“So you’re never going to hunt again.”

“I didn’t say that. Let me worry about me and you worry about your shit. Apparently, you’re in pretty damned deep.”

Rogue didn’t say the “P” word, but it was for sure implied.

So this was great. Domestic issues. Oh, and purgatory. A nice mix. “Rogue . . . the others don’t know what happened with purgatory.”

“Yeah, I know. You, me, and Kate. And that vamp. I’ll tell you what, brother—you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”

“What’s your secret?” Jinx asked.

“I’m still in hell,” Rogue told him before he turned and walked back into the house.

•   •   •

Vice had been keepi
ng himself busy with several Weres, because even though it wasn’t party night, he’d needed the stress relief. Besides, he needed to keep his mouth busy so he didn’t spit out, “Rogue’s awake,” by accident.

Besides, there was so much fucking going on inside the house, and he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t freaked the fuck out at the thought of Liam and the twins fighting tonight. He was spinning, his being pulled in several different directions had his hormones working overtime.

Liam had trained well—he was ready. Vice wasn’t sure he was, though. For the first time, he felt really damned old and he didn’t like it.

He’d forced himself not to go back out to the hole by the tree, to think of anything but Eydis, but he was distracted enough that he actually made the Weres in the room as unhorny as he was. They all sat there looking at each other and Vice wondered if he should break out the Scrabble or something.

Finally, he gave a long-suffering sigh and yanked the male toward him. The younger Were kissed him, straddled him, emboldened with the sudden attention and Vice grabbed the male’s hips and ground against him. Pheromones were flying around the room after several minutes of this, and with the female Were now kissing the back of his neck, he might be able to lose himself . . .

“Vice, downstairs, now,” Rifter’s voice floated through the intercom.

Ah shit. He had that king thing going on in his voice.

“Rogue, if you fucked me on this . . .” he muttered, sure Rifter had discovered that secret.

“Yeah, fuck me, baby,” the Were moaned as she tugged at him.

“No, not fuck—ah, forget it.” He slid out of the bed and the Weres pouted for a moment before they started going at it with each other. He shrugged it off—no law against them having fun.

Cyd was at the door, smirking. “Rifter sent me up to get you.”

“Just make sure you get them out of here. And don’t join in. You need your strength for later.”

“No carbs, no sex, no fun,” Cyd muttered as Vice took the stairs down three at a time. Cyd threw jeans down after him and Vice caught them but didn’t put them on. Because what the hell—if he had to shift, which was usually when Rifter used his king tone, why ruin a perfectly good pair of jeans.

He met Rifter at the landing before the basement. Rifter didn’t comment on the lack of clothes this time, the way he’d been doing lately because of Gwen, who wasn’t always entirely comfortable with the big, naked males surrounding her. Mainly because Rifter growled every time it happened.

He followed Rifter down to the basement, Harm behind him. They all pulled up short when they entered the room to find Gwen standing over a . . .

Dire.

“She’s a fucking Dire,” Vice breathed. He didn’t know if he should move forward or not. Killian and Stray were already in the room but they still had that wide-eyed look that Vice was sure he wore.

“Yes. And she has no idea she’s a wolf. She was locked up in a psychiatric facility when she started exhibiting symptoms,” Gwen said and Vice felt the anger rise in him.

“Immortal?” Rifter asked, unable to hide the shock from his voice.

“I don’t know—I wasn’t planning on trying to kill her,” Gwen said wryly and Rifter rolled his eyes and the mood relaxed a little. “There’s no other test, you know.”

“She’s not,” Killian said. “No one from the Greenland pack but Stray and me are immortal. But she’d live a long time if she gets through this shift.”

Rifter studied her more clinically. “She’s thin. Hasn’t been trained well in the warrior ways, but she’s got muscle. She looks like she’s been running regularly.”

“She has been. She escapes once a month and doesn’t go back to the hospital for days. Says she’s running around the woods,” Stray added.

No Dires or Weres ran in the woods behind the institution—it was considered bad form and they didn’t want the patients to see anything they could be labeled as more crazy for seeing. So she’d been safe running there, getting in the exercise her body needed, her mind preparing.

But Gillian had no idea what she was up against.

Gwen looked concerned, because she knew, having recently wrestled with it. The physical part would be easier on Gillian but the wolf didn’t know she was a wolf.

“Who brought her here?” Rifter asked.

“Jinx,” she said without missing a beat and Vice had to give her credit. “He did the right thing. He had no idea he was being called on to rescue a Dire.”

Rifter didn’t say anything further, moved toward the table to get a closer look. “He should’ve checked with me.”

“I know. But he said she was in medical trouble—and I reacted.” Gwen remained calm to Rifter’s growly alphaness. The king was right and Gwen was just beginning to understand the rules of living with a king alpha Dire. “Jinx had to go hunting. He said he would call later.”

Rifter grunted a little. He was trying to hold back his anger—more directed at Jinx than at Gwen. The rogue wolf had gotten himself kicked out of the Dire mansion weeks back and had done little to atone for his asshole behavior. Vice knew his friend was hiding something. When he figured out what, he’d be all over him.

“I think none of you should be here when she wakes up. She’s quite . . . attached to Jinx.” Gwen seemed hesitant to bring up that last bit of information but it wasn’t news to Vice. He’d felt the tingle of the bond from the second he’d stepped into the room. He just hadn’t been sure who it was directed toward.

But Rifter’s gaze went sharply to Gwen and then to Gillian. “She and Jinx bonded? Because you know Dires don’t bond.”

“We’re not vampires,” Vice added. “Maybe he’s been hanging around that deadhead too long.”

“I don’t think you can catch something like that,” Stray told him.

“How do you know that? Just because it’s not on your precious Internet. Put it out on Twitter and someone will know,” Vice continued, sliding out of the way before Rifter was able to clock him on the back of the head.

Gwen had been waiting patiently through their dialogue. “I can’t explain it. I know our bonds happened like this, but humans have love at first sight, so why can’t Dires be susceptible to it?”

“Fated at first sight,” Vice said. “Hell, I didn’t think Jinx had it in him.”

“Maybe it’s lust,” Killian threw in. “Because she’s beautiful.”

There was no arguing with that. She was built like the Dire women of old—tall and slim, her bearing regal. But there was a wideness to her shoulders, a rise to her cheekbones that foretold that she might be the fiercest fighter they had.

“This is gonna be trouble,” Vice muttered as a stomp of boots that made no attempt at stealth clattered down the stairs. “And speaking of . . .”

The wolves turned, expecting Cyd or maybe Liam, but Vice knew exactly who it was.

Rogue turned the corner, wearing all black leather, head shaved looking far more badass than a man who’d recently been in a coma had a right to be.

Hell still rode in his eyes, and Vice wondered if he was the only one who could see that.

Rifter moved first, embracing Rogue. The wolf let him. The men had been imprisoned together—Rifter had saved him from the trappers, but couldn’t save him from Seb.

“You look good, brother,” Stray said, clapping him on the back. Rogue shook Kill’s hand and thanked him for helping to save him. And then Kate came in from the garage—she’d been out at the cabin that had been in her family for generations with Cain—and she dropped the packages she held and ran for the wolf.

He caught her and the wolves heard her whispering, “So glad you’re okay.”

“Kate.” Rogue’s voice was hoarse, the only thing that belied emotion and the young witch hugged him without a second thought. “Don’t get growly, Stray—it’s okay.”

Stray flushed but he didn’t look worried. Being possessive was natural and nothing any of the Dires worried about. But Kate did move away quickly, in deference to her mate and went over and kissed Stray hard.

Vice knew Rifter was staring at him, but Vice pretended to look anywhere but, because it was damned obvious Vice wasn’t surprised to see Rogue up and about. Instead, he told Rogue, “Nice skull—werechicks will dig it,” and tried to back out of the room when Gwen said softly, “I think Gillian’s waking up.”

All the wolves stilled and waited.

The female’s aqua blue eyes were stunning. Vice swallowed hard, because it had been a long time since he’d been in a female Dire’s presence. Rifter moved forward, as did Stray and Killian. Vice hung back with Rogue, told him, “I kept your secret—you owe me.”