Legacy Found: Legacy, Book 3 (22 page)

A flash to her right got her attention. Someone was on the move. She glimpsed a familiar face. Macmillan.

Moving, she raced to the house next door. She had to kill him. Her nightmare would never end until he was dead.

She tore around the corner of James’s house and skidded to a dead stop. James stood there in wolf form, teeth barred as he snarled a warning at Steve Macmillan.

The hunter held his rifle ready, a taunting grin on his face. “You’re going to make a great rug for the side of my bed.”

Shelley screamed. Every ounce of rage she’d ever felt spewed to the surface at that moment. She would not let him hurt James. She drew back her arm and flung it forward, releasing the axe. The blade flashed in the morning sun and Macmillan was forced to dodge back. James started to move, but Macmillan brought his rifle around and held it on her.

“Stop right there, wolf. Or I’ll shoot the little bitch.”

James froze.

“Come here, Shelley. You didn’t think you could get away with what you did, did you? I’ve got plans for you.”

Shelley didn’t know what to do. If she went with him, she was dead. If she didn’t, he’d kill James. There was only one choice she could make.

“I’ll go with you. Just leave the rest of them alone.”

“Sure, Shelley. I only want you.”

She could read the lie in his voice, but knew she had no choice. Maybe she could knock aside his gun when she got close enough.

“Now, bitch. I’m running out of patience.”

Shelley took a step toward him. James’s hind legs quivered as though he was getting ready to jump.

Steve grinned. “Try it, wolf, and you’ll be dead before you get halfway. Shoot him, Quinn.”

Shelley froze as another hunter stepped out behind James. He raised his rifle. A shot ran out and she screamed. But it wasn’t James who fell to the ground, but Macmillan. Blood blossomed on the front of his shirt, spreading rapidly.

The blue-eyed hunter Macmillan had called Quinn ignored them, hurrying to Macmillan’s side.

“You bastard,” Steve gasped.

“Where is Chris Lawton?”

Steve gasped again. “You traitor. Who the hell is Chris…” Blood bubbled up from his throat and he took his last breath.

Behind them, Shelley heard more yells and the sounds of fighting, but she couldn’t look away from the scene before her. James shifted, the wolf receding and the man appearing. Naked, with blood staining his hands, James was an intimidating sight.

He shot a glare at her. She glared right back. She knew he was mad at her but didn’t care. She’d done what she thought was right, and she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“What the hell is going on?” The voice was deep. Authoritative. And very familiar.

Shelley turned to see a huge male striding forward. He must have been about six and a half feet tall and he was all pissed-off male in blue jeans and a tight T-shirt. His deep mahogany hair was shaggy and hung down around his shoulders. His deep-set chocolate brown eyes were eerily familiar. She saw the same ones peering out at her each time she looked in a mirror.

“Isaiah.” As if a dam burst in her mind, memories flooded into her consciousness.

He stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes were blazing as he studied her. “My God. Rachel. It is you.” He walked forward like a man in a trance and grabbed her into his arms, holding her close to his heart.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, unafraid of this big man. She remembered him. He’d been more of a father to her than her father had been. She took a deep breath and his familiar scent surrounded her.

“I remember you.” The words were torn from her throat.

He leaned away and brushed her hair from her face. “Are you real?” The pain and anguish in his voice was so real it made her heart ache. She nodded, unable to speak.

“I hate to break up this reunion, but we have a problem.” Anger and some other emotion she couldn’t pin down vibrated from James.

Shelley pulled away from her brother and tried not to look at the dead man lying in the dirt beside them. She had to own up to the trouble she’d brought to his home. “This is my fault. He was searching for me.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault.” The hunter who’d shot Steve had his hands in the air. His rifle sat on the dirt at his feet.

James studied the hunter. “Who are you?”

“Quinn.” The tall, light-haired man offered no more than that.

James stood, hands on his hips, studying the stranger. Shelley wished he’d put on a pair of pants. Watching him strut around naked was doing funny things to her body, which were totally inappropriate given the circumstances.

“The rest of them are dead.” Joshua walked up beside James and handed him a pair of jeans.

“So are the Carlos cousins.” Donovan stepped forward, looking tall and menacing. She was glad he was fully clothed. She wasn’t quite ready to see another naked man. “Those bastards took advantage of the chaos with the hunters to try to kill James and nab Alex and Shelley.”

James growled low in his throat as he hauled on the jeans. He zipped up the fly but didn’t bother to button them. “I’ll deal with the rest of that clan later.”

He studied Quinn. “You need to give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kill you.”

But Quinn wasn’t paying any attention to James. His eyes were glued on Donovan Brody.

Shelley glanced from one man to the other, noting the similarities between them. They were of the same height and build. Where Donovan’s hair was dark brown, Quinn’s was blond. But the facial shape was the same. And so were their eyes. Pale ice blue.

James’s tension went up a notch. “Somebody better start talking.”

Quinn addressed Donovan. “Do you remember Sandra Lawton?”

Donovan frowned. “I’m not sure.”

“Maybe you’ll remember a tall blonde woman you lived with for a few months about twenty-five years ago in New York. You apparently had a great time for a while. One morning, you left without a word. She searched for you but never found you.”

Donovan’s gaze narrowed. “I remember. Sandy. She said her name was Sandy.”

Quinn nodded. “Yeah, well, you left more than just a good time behind.” He straightened his spine and braced his legs apart. Shelley knew what he was going to say before he spoke. “I’m your son.”

Quinn was numb as he stood there and stared at his father. He’d failed Chris. Steve Macmillan was dead, his time with the bounty hunters was at an end and he was no closer to his goal. He’d have to find some other way of searching for his twin. That’s assuming he got out of this situation alive.

He could shift to his wolf form, but that wouldn’t help him here. Not with so many other pureblooded wolves around. They might even kill him for being a half-breed. That happened a lot as he’d discovered during his years of searching for his heritage. He didn’t lose any sleep over killing those fuckers. They’d kill him and his twin if they had a chance.

He recognized Isaiah Striker and his brother Joshua. His mother had discovered Donovan Brody’s secret in the time they’d been together. She’d known what he was but had loved him anyway. She’d followed him in secret several times when he’d met with others of his kind, wanting to learn more about her mysterious lover. She’d seen the Striker brothers, had learned their names.

When he was five, his mother had seen the brothers walking down a street in New York and had pointed them out to him and Chris. Told them who these men were. What they were.

The other man. The one in charge, he didn’t know at all. He was one scary bastard.

Then there was the man he’d searched for all his adult life. Now that he was standing in front of his father, he didn’t quite know what to do, what to say.

“If you’re Donovan Brody’s son, what the hell are you doing with bounty hunters?” It was the alpha male that spoke.

“James,” his father cautioned the other male. It felt weird to be staring at the man who was his father. For years he’d been nothing more than a memory shared by Quinn’s mother.

Something deep inside him stirred when his father stood up for him. But he wasn’t reading much into it. They still might decide to kill him. The other man’s name struck a chord. “James? James LeVeau?”

The male’s eyes narrowed and pure menace flowed from him. He was one scary dude. “James Riley now. Why do you want to know?”

He motioned to Steve’s body. “He has one of his hackers searching a holding company belonging to you. He saw you and your truck in Nashville and got suspicious. When he turned up next to nothing it made him even more so.”

James strode forward until he was standing right in front of Quinn. Wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, he was an intimidating sight. But Quinn wasn’t backing down.

“I’m only going to ask once more. Why?”

Quinn sighed, knowing he had to tell the truth if he wanted to have a chance of getting out of here alive. “As you already guessed, I’m a half-breed.” James nodded. The fact that he wasn’t ordering Quinn’s immediate death was slightly reassuring.

“I have a twin. We were attacked more than a year ago. It took me a while to understand why it happened. We didn’t know much about our heritage. Only what our mother was able to piece together.”

James nodded. “Go on.”

“Chris disappeared and I haven’t been able to find a trace. I infiltrated the hunters to see if they had Chris.” Quinn nodded his head toward Joshua. “You can thank me for that call you got telling you to go to Chicago last fall.”

Joshua glanced at Isaiah, but neither of them spoke.

Quinn glared at James. “To save your life, I just killed the last link to my twin.” Defeat all but smothered him. What would he do now?

Donovan stepped up. “You’re my son.” He had a dazed look on his face, as though he couldn’t quite believe it.

Quinn inclined his head. “Mom always said I was the spitting image of you.”

“Where is she now?”

“Dead. She died when I was eighteen.”

“I’m sorry.”

Quinn shrugged. “She knew what you were. And good thing too or we would have been seriously fucked.” Obviously, Donovan couldn’t be too sorry. He’d never given his mother another thought.

“She knew? She never said anything.”

“She loved you anyway.” Bitterness crept into Quinn’s voice as he remembered his mother sitting in their crappy little apartment, staring out the window, watching for a man who never came. “She spent years hoping you would come back. We even lived in the same rundown place until we were ten.” He shut his mouth. He was saying way too much.

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Would it have mattered?” Quinn couldn’t stop himself from asking. “If you’d known she was pregnant?”

“Yes.” Donovan crossed his arms over his chest.

Quinn didn’t know what he expected. Certainly not tears of joy or immediate acceptance. But maybe a little more emotion. Not that he cared. All he cared about was finding Chris.

“I have another son?” Donovan asked. “Just like you.”

“No.” They all stared quizzically at Quinn.

“But you said you had a twin.” James frowned.

“I do.” Quinn heaved a deep breath. “Chris is my twin sister.”

Chapter Fifteen

James took a deep breath and decided it was high time for him to take control of the highly charged situation. He motioned to Grady Tallant, who’d joined the fight. “Gather as many men as you need and get rid of the bodies. Strip them of any weapons and identification. Send out a party to find their vehicles. We need to dispose of them.”

He nodded and Grady headed off.

He turned to Donovan Brody, who was watching the young man—Quinn Lawton—like he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. And no wonder. It wasn’t every day you found out you had a son and a daughter you hadn’t known about. “Take Quinn into the house. We need to talk.” James needed as much information about this situation as he could get.

“Levi, you and Micah take Simon home and tend to his wound.” From what James could see it looked as though a silver bullet had hit his shoulder. They’d been lucky no one was killed.

“Gavin, you and Etienne watch the front and back gates. Just in case there are any more hunters or some other members of the Carlos clan decide they want to try to kill me.”

“Alpha.” Gavin called James by his formal title, inclined his head and headed off with Etienne.

Finally, James turned to Shelley. He admitted that he’d avoided looking at her. Her first morning here and already they’d faced an attack from hunters and an internal threat from fellow wolves. Blood stained the ground and the air was thick with death. Not exactly the welcome he’d envisioned for her.

She’d probably decide she was better off out in the world on her own.

He raked his fingers through his hair and shook off those negative thoughts. She’d promised him a week and he was holding her to it. “Come inside, Shelley.”

Her face was pale, but her lips were set in a thin line. Stubborn woman. Instead of going inside for safety, she’d attacked a hunter, wielding nothing but an axe and determination. His blood still ran cold thinking about it.

Her face was smudged with dirt and blood and her new clothes might never recover. Her hair was hanging around her face, her ponytail holder long gone.

He’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.

His body hardened. Muscles tensing. His breathing deepened and he sniffed her unique perfume. Under the fear he caught a tinge of arousal. His cock responded immediately, springing to attention.

Now that the heat of battle was over, another heat was upon him.

“James,” Joshua called from the porch steps.

James wanted to do nothing more than take Shelley in his arms and hold her until she understood he’d protect her with his life, would never let them take her again. Instead, he had to deal with the fallout from this latest attack. Sometimes, being alpha just plain sucked.

He held out his hand. “Come here.” He softened his tone and she inched forward. She was chewing on her bottom lip, a sure sign of nerves. He caught a glimpse of her pink tongue and it kicked up his arousal another notch.

Shelley kept her head down as she passed him. He wasn’t letting her avoid him that easily. He put his hand on her back, guiding her inside.