Dire Wants (27 page)

Chapter 44

A
fter Kate got back from the cemetery, she sat in the middle of the bed in the guest room and stared at the grimoire. Put her hands on it and knew that what Jez told her was right. It was inside her—she had the answers.

And Stray still wouldn’t deal with her.

A knock on the door made her look up. Her heart leapt, even though she knew it wasn’t Stray. “Come in.”

Gwen stuck her head in. “Sure you’re up to this?”

Kate nodded and Gwen came in. Kate could see the wolf working in tandem with the woman. Still half human but yet somehow immortal, Gwen was the closest thing to her ally in this house now that Stray had locked her out.

Gwen sat on the bed next to her, tucking her bare feet under her. “You were at the meeting. You know what needs to be done.”

“I do. And I’m planning. I’ll be ready.”

“The full moon’s so close—days away,” Gwen said. “The time for action is now.”

“Suppose it doesn’t work?” she asked. Gwen’s face drew tight because she understood—Kate was asking if the Dires would kill her.

“It was the general plan, either way,” she admitted. “Witches and wolves, well, let’s just say there’s very little trust left there. And if you’re as powerful as everyone says . . .”

“You’ve painted a lovely picture,” Kate said. “So why has the plan changed?”

Gwen looked surprised that Kate didn’t know the answer to that. “Stray’s in love with you. And If I’m not mistaken, you’re in love with him, too.”

“It’s the spell.”

Gwen sat back on her heels. “A month ago, if you’d asked me about magic, I would’ve laughed at you. Now I believe anything’s possible, but I don’t think magic can force a heart to love what it doesn’t.”

Kate shook her head, wanted to believe her, but she couldn’t. After everything that had happened the other day, her vulnerability, the fact that she could take Stray down with her. “I thought I’d be safe now that I have the grimoire.”

“You are. You let Seb in and you locked him back out. You’re in control. You just didn’t fully understand the implications of the familiar bond.”

“I had to distract Seb to save Stray.”

Or Seb had gotten to her because Stray wasn’t with her.

“We’re each other’s weaknesses now—don’t you understand?”

Gwen lowered her eyes for a long moment and then looked Kate dead in the eyes. “Yes, I know something about that. My blood has the power to kill the immortal Dires. I’m the only thing on this earth and in the heavens with that power—and Rifter loves me anyway. Sometimes you have to shove back your fear and go for what you want. So Stray won’t come to you. You go to him.”

You go to him.

* * *

Stray had been acting like the perfect soldier—stalwart—one who’d accepted his charge and did his duty coldly. Too coldly, especially because she knew just how warm he ran.

Now he stood in the doorway of the guest bedroom, the wolf staring at her. She wanted to run her fingers through Brother’s fur, but she didn’t know if she’d be accepted. She settled for talking instead. Because she realized that she’d never apologized, and she was ready to let down her pride first for both their sakes.

“You’ve got to shift back and talk to me, Stray. I need you and not just as my familiar. We’re bonded and in more ways than this. You know that or maybe it’s scaring you. It’s scaring me, too.”

Kate tried to hold back tears, but her voice caught anyway. She turned her back to him, pressed a hand against her mouth to stop herself from saying anything more.

She heard something behind her and she turned toward Stray, expecting to see his wolf.

Instead she saw a very naked Stray. And while he didn’t look exactly happy, he had shifted back, and all because she’d asked.

That had to mean something, right? Or maybe . . .

“I didn’t switch because you made me. I do still have the power of free will,” Stray said.

Sometimes it was convenient that he could read her mind. Other times she could see the downside. Still . . . “Good, I’m glad.”

Stray moved closer to her in stages, like he wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet, but he remained naked. Unabashedly so, and she tried to stop herself from staring, because it seemed a really inappropriate time to be turned on.

His easy smile told her otherwise. “This is natural—for me, at least. I’m a beast, Kate. You said so yourself.”

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t back down now. Not your style.”

“I can lash out, yes. I’m sorry. I was just—”

“Telling the truth.”

“Angry. At you. At these circumstances. You don’t understand.”

“Right.” He sighed, stared at the sky. And yes, it was time for her to do some serious groveling. She took a few steps toward him, hoping he wouldn’t back away.

He didn’t, but that wasn’t going to make this any easier.

She started again, needing to find a way to make him understand. “I’ve never had anybody. And I’ve never had any say in what I do, not since the accident. And then you tell me what I am and that you hate me.”

Speaking of hated, she hated that her voice cracked.

Stray put a hand on her shoulder. “Stop.”

“No. I’m apologizing. Let me.”

“You already did.”

“It’s not good enough.”

“It’s going to have to be,” he told her. “For a long time, I didn’t have anyone either. I do now. So do you.”

She couldn’t speak. Her throat constricted and she believed him. But the words she’d said . . . no matter what he told her, she needed to do more.

So she kissed him gently, first on the cheek, then kissed a path along his jaw. He stiffened, drew a harsh breath, like a tender touch was the most alien sensation in the world.

He froze for a moment, and then his arms wound around her, held her tight as he returned the kiss.

* * *

It didn’t stop at the kiss. Couldn’t. Stray had to kiss Kate everywhere—neck, breasts, belly. Had to taste her, spread her legs and take her with his tongue while she moaned his name, gripped his hair. Really let herself go for him.

When she came against his mouth, he made it happen again, because he could. And then he took her while she wrapped her legs around him and undulated her hips against him in a rhythm that drove them both right to the edge.

In the aftermath, Stray lay next to Kate on the floor. The post-orgasm screaming pain ceded, but it was getting worse each time he made love to her. Until this point, he’d managed to hide it among her blazing orgasms and his mind block, but she was getting stronger. Soon he wouldn’t be able to keep her out. Such was a necessity between a familiar and her witch. Still, the pain was worth it.

“That was some apology,” he told her.

“I can apologize again, if you want,” she told him with a grin.

“Cheeky witch.”

“I can’t help it—you’re that good.”

He shrugged. He’d had lots of practice and had no shame about it. “Sex for us is life. We have no worries about too much of anything.”

“That must be nice.”

He pulled her closer. “You didn’t find this nice?”

She laughed and his wolf soared. “More than.”

“We’re going to be doing a lot more,” he told her. “Is that going to be a problem for you?”

“No. Being around you seems to bring out . . . something raw and primal inside of me.”

“It’s the wolf—you can’t resist him.”

“No, I can’t. I’m glad both of you forgive me.”

“I didn’t forgive myself, Kate. Don’t you get it? I was angry because I let you get hurt.”

“You let me get hurt?” she asked incredulously. “I got you killed.”

“I’m still here.”

“I never want to see you like that again.”

“Yeah, well, I could go a long time without that too.”

“I understand now why you don’t think too highly of witches or humans. I have to tell you that, from what I’ve seen of both, neither do I.” She hugged herself tightly, a shield from everything. “There’s so much bad in the world—even in people’s thoughts. It’s exhausting.”

He knew it all too well. That’s why he hung with wolves, because their thoughts were primal and far more comfortable.

“If I could turn it off, make it go away, I would.”

“You’re not going to do that,” he told her.

“Your original plan was to let me die.”

“That was the original plan, but it was never mine. And it was before.”

“Before what?”

“Before I knew you. Met you. Smelled you.” He did release her then, but he stroked her chin with his thumb. “It was before I fell for you. Humans call it love—I call it fate. Whatever you want to call it, I’m in.”

“Sometimes love means having to make hard decisions,” she whispered. “You have to help me make the right one when all of this is over—for us, for your family. For the good of everyone.”

He stared at her with unblinking wolf’s eyes, and she knew she had an uphill battle.

Chapter 45

W
hen Angus woke, darkness surrounded him, but he most definitely wasn’t dead, unless heaven was a two-bedroom loft apartment with stainless kitchen appliances and a wolf.

He sat up tentatively. He wore no shirt—or pants, for that matter—and a thin blanket covered him. The couch was leather, but Cain had laid him on a blanket. “What’s going on?”

“Business as usual,” Cain commented.

“You’re going to tell me what you did for me is normal?”

Cain gave him a crooked smile. “Not for you, it’s not.”

Angus looked down at his arm and saw the fading bite marks. “I’ve been bitten. What does that mean?”

“Means you tasted good.”

Angus stared at him. “Seriously?”

“You’re not going to howl at the moon, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s old lore. You’ll heal and you’ll be fine. One hundred percent human. It’s going to leave a hell of a scar, though. That’s one thing I can’t get rid of for you.”

Angus stared at him for a second before deciding to continue the lie. “A wolf attacked me. I saw a man change into a wolf and then he attacked me, dragged me into the woods and left me for dead.”

“I hate to be the one to break this to you, but that Were had to have had orders not to kill you, Angus.” Cain paused. “Shimmin was probably waiting to see what you’d do—who’d come for you. He doesn’t trust you’re on his side completely.”

For good reason. Angus stared down at his arms again. Both forearms were covered with bites. On further inspection, there was also one on his side, his thigh and claw marks on his shoulder.

When he reached up to his cheek, he felt the indents of more claw marks running down the right side, passing his neck.

“You’re still beautiful,” Cain whispered. Maybe he didn’t say it out loud, but it came through Angus’s head as clear as day.

Then again, he’d been given pain meds—couldn’t be feeling this good this close to nearly dying. “Shimmin doesn’t trust me—do you?”

“Not completely,” Cain told him, then shut down the conversation by turning on the TV. Angus stared at the reports of earthquakes that shook New York City and her surrounding areas today. “Did this really happen?”

“You don’t believe your own kind?” Cain asked.

“Where I grew up, we were taught never to believe anything we didn’t see with our own eyes—God performed miracles.”

“Where’d you grow up?” Cain asked.

“Foster care. Nuns took me in until I went to military school.”

“You don’t act like you were raised by nuns.” Cain handed him water and more pills that Angus gratefully accepted. No point in acting like Superman when you weren’t.

“You don’t act like anyone I’ve ever met, so what’s your point?”

Cain smiled, like he’d heard it before. “Yeah, there’s something about you too, human.” He touched Angus’s forehead with a light hand, and Angus wanted him to leave it there forever.

Human. He stared into Cain’s eyes and watched them change—fiercely lupine and then back to normal. He wasn’t sure if it was the strong medicine or a trick of light.

“I know what I saw tonight,” he said finally.

“You believe in fate, human?”

“I believe in fighting like hell to get what you want,” Angus countered. He’d been doing it his whole life and it hadn’t gotten him all that far. Didn’t stop him from trying, though.

Cain settled on the couch across from Angus, continued flipping channels restlessly. Outside, a storm began to rage that shook the building, and the studio apartment was suddenly much too small, bathed in the half-light from the moon shining through the clouds.

Before he could ask more, the power shut with a hard slam, as though someone took a violent fist to a power lever.

“You finally believe, don’t you, human?” Cain asked.

“In what?”

“
Others.
”

The word came out like a growl and Cain’s eyes shone lupine through the darkness again. Angus fully expected to find a wolf leaping on him any second, but Cain remained frustratingly far away.

“Yes,” Angus admitted. “I believe.”

“Does it scare you?”

“Sometimes. But I think humans scare me more.”

“Smart man. Too smart to think I believe your story. Tell me what the hell really happened to you, Angus. Because if Shimmin sent a possessed Were after you, you’d be DOA. This was the work of a new, uncontrolled Were. So tell me now.”

The words were like a command, although they weren’t loud, but almost whispered. It was like Cain was gripping his insides, forcing an answer Angus hadn’t wanted to give. “I went back to Shimmin, to get more intel. To be initiated, they wanted me to kill a Were.”

“They brought the wolf to you, chained.”

“Yes. How did you—”

“I’m asking the questions—you’re answering. They brought the wolf to you, chained and helpless. Unshifted. They gave you a silver blade. What did you do next?”

“I told them I wanted to do it alone,” Angus told him. The trappers hadn’t given him much trouble with that. In retrospect, maybe they’d known what he’d planned on doing.

“Did the wolf escape?”

He stared at Cain. “No. I freed him.”

“What the hell were you thinking?”

“I got your intel. It was the only way.”

“Wait a minute—the Were gave it to you?”

“His name was—is—Jamie,” Angus said. “He told me . . .
Cain knows me
.”

Cain didn’t hesitate to say, “He was from my original pack. Younger than I was. Got beaten often, the same way I did.”

“Because he’s an omega?”

“Because they could.” Cain’s voice sounded as dark as the room they sat in now. “He wouldn’t lie—not to me.”

“Why not?”

“I was the one who snuck back to our old pack last year and freed him. Hooked him up with the Manhattan pack. He wouldn’t betray me.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Cain sounded tired. “Tell me what really fucking happened.”

“I was going to kill him. It was the only way. But he begged me not to—said he had information for you. That he could tell I wasn’t like the trappers.”

“He’s a beta. They’re good at reading people,” Cain agreed.

“He told me about the Dire ghost army—what I told you before—that’s all straight from him. He heard Shimmin talking to the other trappers about it when they thought he was passed out. He said the drugs hadn’t worked on him because—”

“Because he hadn’t shifted yet. But he was about to, so his metabolism would’ve been running like a freight train.” Cain sounded tired. “You freed him, then, in exchange for what you told me about the Dire ghost army, right?”

“I did.” Angus hadn’t expected what happened next. One minute, the young boy was limping off toward the woods. Angus waited and began to pretend chase him. And that’s when he heard the shots.

“The trappers shot him. It brought on his first shift,” Cain explained. “He didn’t mean to attack you, necessarily. It’s why Weres aren’t supposed to be out that close to their first shift.”

“It wasn’t nighttime,” Angus said.

“The moon’s always around,” Cain told him. “You’ve got to stop believing all those fucking myths—nothing happens exactly as it’s written. Trust what you saw.”

“That’s all I remember.”

Except his own screams. He didn’t have to tell Cain about those.

“And the trappers never came back to check on you?”

“They found me . . . afterward. Told me the only way I’d ever be fully trusted is if I brought them your head on a stick,” he finished. “I don’t know what happened to your friend.”

Cain was silent for a long moment and then said, “Cyd found Jamie’s body about five miles from where I found you.”

“I’m sorry, Cain,” Angus whispered.

Lightning flashed, exposing them both. They stared at each other as darkness fell again, and Angus’s chest tightened at how damned beautiful the wolf was. Thought about telling Cain that and then decided to hold off.

“These storms . . . Shimmin said they’re electrical.
Other
,” he started hesitantly.

“Shimmin says a lot of things.”

“He says he’s the one pulling the strings to do it. Is he . . . ?”

“He’s human, but he’s working with the devil,” Cain said bluntly. “And people think Weres are evil. Far fucking from it.”

“Except when they’re murdering women or working for Shimmin,” Angus pointed out, not so helpfully.

“Fuck you, Fed.”

“Might not be one for long.” Angus sat up, the sheet half off, and Cain pointed him in the direction of the bathroom. “Sweats in there for you.”

Angus took him up on the offer, closing the door and staring at the scars in the mirror, probably for too long, because Cain called to ask if he was all right.

“Far from it,” he muttered. “I’ll be right out.”

He used the new toothbrush and took a quick shower. Assessed the rest of the cuts and bruises and realized how lucky he really was.

He looked out the window but couldn’t see much. It was thick glass, double paned and probably bulletproof. He’d driven by these apartments many times since he’d gotten into town, but he’d never have believed wolves lived here.

“Thought you drowned,” Cain commented.

Angus ignored him and looked out the big windows to the street. “What is this place, a supernatural flophouse?”

“Pretty close, except everyone pays rent.” Cain studied him. “Are you really thinking of resigning from the FBI?”

“I don’t know. Shit, I don’t even know what side is up right now.” He ran a hand through his hair, his injuries still aching as the young wolf—wolf, for chrisssakes—studied him.

Angus suddenly knew what prey felt like.

“Shimmin’s been calling you.” Cain held Angus’s phone in his palm. “If you don’t answer, he’s going to get suspicious, since obviously he couldn’t find your body.”

“What am I supposed to say to him?”

“I guess it’s time to decide whose side you’re on.”

“Is that the only reason you’re being nice to me, because you need my help?”

Cain snorted. “You’ve got a weird idea of what nice is. And I don’t need your help, human. You do need mine, though. So it’s all up to you.”

Cain tossed him the phone in a perfect arc and he caught it, wincing as the muscles in his right arm protested. That made Cain smile, for whatever reason . . . and it made Angus’s decision infinitely easier.

There were no words, not this time. Cain’s mouth covered his, and Angus felt the breath suck out of him and a hard body rubbing his.

And he was fully found, not lost.

Cain wouldn’t stop, not this time, but Angus didn’t want him to. The phone dropped. The sweats he’d borrowed pushed down easily and he lay under a fully clothed wolf, vulnerable and willing, not caring that his body still ached. Because the kiss was that good—what he’d been dreaming about over the past weeks.

He felt pinned, trapped—and he liked it. He gripped Cain’s hair as the kisses grew more intense, moaned into the wolf’s mouth as their cocks ground together.

Fuck, he could come, just like this. Especially when he felt the brush of sharp teeth against the most sensitive part of his neck. A loud groan escaped his throat, because the rush of fear was nothing compared to the one of equal pleasure.

The teeth scraped and then a rough tongue soothed. “Don’t worry; you can’t be turned.”

“But I can die,” Angus whispered, and immediately wondered why the fuck he’d say something like that. Especially when Cain pulled back and stared at him oddly.

Surely that was something the young wolf knew. Hell, it was a given. Angus caught his wrist before Cain moved away completely.

“Don’t go. Stay,” he told Cain.

The young wolf nearly relented, but his expression shuttered again and he pulled away. “I’ll be back later. There’s plenty of food in the fridge. Don’t leave. With the intel we have from Shimmin, it’s only a matter of time before he figures out that you’re the one who screwed him.” With that, Cain grabbed Angus’s phone and shoved it in his pocket. So much for decisions.

“And then what, Cain? Do I stay in this place forever?”

“Didn’t realize you had a whole lot of places to go,” Cain said coolly.

“Fuck you, wolf.” He jumped up, stood toe-to-toe with Cain, now angrier than he’d been in a long time. “I’m leaving in the morning.”

Whether Cain would let him do that, Angus didn’t get a hint of a clue. The young one just brushed past him and left the apartment without a backward glance.

It was only when Angus heard the lock turn that he realized, for the first time, that there was no turn lock on his side, just a place where a key would fit.

He’d always been a prisoner. Cain had been making a fool of him, purposely, and he’d fallen for it like he was some novice without years of training.

In this world, you are.

Not for long
, he promised himself. Not for fucking long.

* * *

Kate left Stray sleeping, slid out of the room while pulling a shirt over her head. Rogue was calling to her—or maybe she needed him. But either way, she had to go there.

Kate?

Going to Rogue—I’ll be fine,
she assured Stray.

Stray didn’t say anything further and she felt him go back to sleep. His trust warmed her.

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, knowing what she’d face when she went inside. And she was ready.

The mare turned her head sharply and smiled.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” she told her. “You can’t scare me.”

She cackled, like she knew better, but when Kate met her gaze and refused to blink, the mare turned away first and continued marking Rogue’s skin.

Hate for the creature burned through Kate. She paced the floor of Rogue’s room, unable to stop talking to herself. She kept her mind closed, the way she’d learned to, even though she ached to go back and converse with Rogue again. But it was best this way. The brick wall ensured the mare wouldn’t read her thoughts—and the mare could read only internal thoughts, not Kate’s external ones.

“You wouldn’t send me into a battle I couldn’t win, dammit. Why would you tell me to do something you don’t want me to?” she whispered finally. “What am I missing?”

She touched the book. “Lila, come on, you have to help me out here. I’ve messed things up so badly for the wolves—for Stray.”