Twilight Hunter (The Execution Underground) (23 page)

Jace stalked through the apartment. He checked the closets, the shower and underneath the bed. Damon, Ash and Trent were long gone. Good riddance...at least when it came to Damon. Ash and Trent were—or had been—his comrades, maybe even his friends.

After wandering into the kitchen, he slumped against the bottom cabinets by the sink. He reached into the brown paper bag, courtesy of the Lucky Bastard, and removed his last bottle of Bushmills. He held it up to the light as he examined its contents. Just great. Already down to the halfway point. He unscrewed the cap and started gulping the liquor. A warm, tingling coated his throat as the alcohol slid down.

The new cell phone Shane had given him vibrated in his pocket. He set down his bottle on the hardwood with a loud thunk before he pulled the electronic piece of shit out of his pocket.

“Hello?”

A desperate voice sounded from the other side of the line. “Jace, we have a problem.”

Jace lowered the phone from his ear and glanced at the screen. “Shane?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“You sound awful.” The kid sounded like someone had drained him of all his energy.

A moment of silence passed, and then Shane let out a long sigh. “I’ve barely slept in days. I’ve been too busy deterring them.”

Jace pushed the Bushmills aside. Now Shane had his attention. “Deterring who?”

“Damon and the rest of the Execution Underground.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me. Why the hell haven’t you said something before now?”

“David told me not to tell you. He said you wouldn’t want me involved but that you needed me. He wanted you to concentrate on learning how to shift and taking down the killer, so he said to keep my mouth shut and make sure they didn’t get to you.”

Jace cursed under his breath. “Why are you telling me this now, Shane?”

“Don’t go back to the hotel.” There was a hint of pleading in the kid’s voice.

“Why the hell not?”

Shane paused for a moment, as if he wasn’t certain he wanted to say the words out loud. “They’ve found it.”

Jace sat forward, his whole body suddenly alert. “What? How did they—”

“I know you’re at your apartment getting drunk right now, but you need to get out of there, too. I doubt they’ll go back there again, but you don’t want to take a chance. Meanwhile they’re ransacking your hotel room as we speak,” Shane said.

“Shit.”

“Find somewhere to hide out, a location they won’t think to check for you.”

Jace wracked his brain for somewhere to crash. Damn. Only one place came to mind. “All right. Thanks for the information. I’ll find somewhere. Call me if there’s any news.” He went to hang up the phone, but paused. He lifted the cell to his ear again. “Oh, and, Shane, how the hell did you know I was in my apartment drinking?”

“I put in a camera. Damon wanted it so I could tell them if you came back—like that was ever going to happen.”

Jace scanned the room for a camera but didn’t see anything. “Yeah, okay. Thanks again.” He pressed the off button and pocketed the phone. He grabbed his bottle off the floor and stood, then walked down the stairs and headed straight for the H3. He revved the engine and death-gripped the steering wheel as he peeled out onto the street. He lodged the Bushmills bottle conveniently between the driver’s seat and the console. He had a feeling he was going to need it later.

Damn it. All this was his fault. He banged his fist against the steering wheel. The conflict with the Execution Underground, his inability to shift, the fight he’d agreed to with Alejandro, and now he was permanently stuck with a mate who didn’t want him. He thought of his name being carved into those poor victims’ forearms. Robert had killed those girls to get his attention.

Why was that bastard after him? Jace tried to think of whether he’d ever met or even seen Robert, some reason why the man was out for his blood.

Nothing.

Damn. All this shit traced back to him somehow, he just had to figure out how.

He pulled over to the side of the road and parked. As far as he could see, he had two options. One: spend the whole night trying to shift and fail. Or two: drown himself in Bushmills and hope shit turned out in his favor.

“Oh, fuck it.” He hit the bottle and hoped for the best.

* * *

F
RANKIE
WAS
WRENCHED
awake from her deep sleep by a loud banging sound reverberating through her apartment and rattling her skull. The door. Someone was pounding on her door. Pushing off the sheets, she stumbled out of bed and across the wooden floor. She grabbed a black silk robe off her closet knob and slipped it on, covering her blue satin nightie. She clutched the material and looked through the peephole. A large dark figure was standing on the other side of the door.

“Hey, Princess. Open up,” the man said.

“Jace?” She hadn’t expected to see him until the fight, especially once Shane had told her not to go to the hotel. She’d thought staying at her own place again would give her a temporary break from the constant heartache when he was near. She inched open the door, making sure the safety latch was in place.

He staggered forward, his full weight slamming into the door frame.

“Holy crap. Jace, are you okay?”

She undid the chain and threw open the door. Jace stumbled through, a nearly empty bottle of Bushmills in his hand. His green eyes were bloodshot, with dark bags underneath. He looked as if he’d been up all night.

“I never should have picked you up in that damn alley.” He slurred his words together until they became an unintelligible mumble. He made the shape of a gun with his thumb and forefinger. “Boom. Done for. Would’ve been easy.”

“Jace, are you drunk?”

“But no, I had to be a fucking moron.”

“That’s what you’re being right now.” Anger coursed through her veins.

“And look what happened. Look what happened.” He laughed bitterly and stumbled.

Frankie slipped underneath his arm in a futile attempt to support him. He was easily twice her size, and she groaned beneath his weight. “Okay, buddy. Let’s get you sobered up. Thank God for supernatural metabolism. At least you’ll burn it off quick.” She dragged him into the bathroom and toward the shower.

“And why are you doing this, huh? Because you’re a good fucking person, that’s why.”

Trying to ignore his drunken words, she pushed him into the shower and helped lower him to the floor. “Take off your clothes,” she said.

He did as he was told. He fumbled with his coat and shirt until he managed to remove them.

She threw them onto the floor outside the shower, along with her robe. Then she reached carefully for the faucet, trying not to get her nightie wet. Cold water spewed from the shower head and hit Jace’s half-naked body.

He cursed and wiped the water from his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” Her breath caught. She knew what he’d said, but she couldn’t comprehend it.

He blinked several times as the cold water slapped him in the face. “I said I don’t deserve you.”

Her throat tightened.

“Taking you captive was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but I wouldn’t change it even if I could,” he went on. “I never wanted to have feelings for you.” He met her eyes with a look that was half joy, half agony. “But I do.”

Before Frankie knew what she was doing, she was kneeling in the shower, the cold water pouring over her body as Jace cradled her face in his hands. A fire ignited in her veins, and she pressed closer to him.

He kissed her so deeply, her world spun. His fingers tangled in her hair as his warm tongue moved against hers. The bittersweet taste of whiskey and his natural flavor filled her mouth in an intoxicating blend. His hands trailed from her hair down her spine. His palms settled on her lower back, and he slowly pulled at the soaked fabric of her nightgown.

She gasped against his lips. Palming her ass, he slipped his fingers under the edge of her panties. A wave of heat spread between her legs, and she trailed kisses across his cheek. She sucked on his earlobe, her teeth gently grazing the skin. A low growl escaped his throat, and a fresh wave of heat flooded between her thighs as Jace rubbed his palm against her most sensitive flesh.

He kissed her collarbone. “I have to be inside you,” he said. “Now.”

Lifting her with him as he stood, Jace pressed her against the wall.

“I’ve wanted to take you every second since we were last together.” He kissed her hard and sucked on her bottom lip.

She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He pulled away. A slow smile spread across his face while he fingered the edge of her nightgown. “I’m going to rip this.”

She barely had time to grin back at him before he kept his promise and her nightgown fell to the tile in wet shreds. As he held her in place, he claimed her breast with his mouth. He ran his tongue over her breast, and she melted into him.

Her nipples hardened, and she pushed her chest against him. He flicked his tongue over her nipples, then slowed to swirl over them. Her breath caught. Hoisting her into position, he held her steady as she unbuckled his belt. She stripped his jeans out of the way, and they hit the floor as he positioned himself outside her entrance, agonizingly close to claiming her.

“All I want is to pleasure you,” he groaned. “I’ll make you mine right now, if that’s what you want. But only if you want me.”

There was something vulnerable in his voice, almost a plea, and she knew he was remembering the time at Shane’s when she’d pushed him away. It had been a misunderstanding, a miscommunication, but he didn’t know that. And rather than take her now while she was wet and ready and already wrapped around him, he still stopped to ask. Was it any wonder she’d fallen so hard for this man?

“Frankie?”

She wanted to tell him she was already his, tell him that he had been at the center of her thoughts since his body lay flush against hers in the alley, but all she could do was nod.

He sheathed himself inside her in one stroke, and she cried out. He rocked—slow thrusts that left her begging for more. He was a gift from the heavens. Running her hands over his shoulders, she quivered, barely holding herself together.

Warmth pulsed through her body. He slowed down, then worked his way from slow movements into a steady pace that caressed her deeply, thoroughly. She buried her hands in his wet hair.

“I want to make love to you,” he whispered, abruptly stopping. He looked around the shower, frowning. “Can I take you to the bedroom?”

She kissed him hard, and apparently that was the only response he needed. He lifted her against his chest and carried her from the shower. Pulling a single towel off the rack, he stumbled out of the bathroom as he held her in his arms, exploring her tongue with his own. When he reached the edge of her bed, he lowered her until she stood in front of him. His eyes roamed over the curves of her body, and though she knew she should have been cold, her skin burned hot from his gaze.

He ran the towel over her shoulders in slow circular motions. He was gentle and strong as he dried her off. She sighed as he reached her breasts, kneading them through the fabric. He knelt and kissed his way down her body to her navel, until his cheek rested just above her mons. He caressed the insides of her thighs before he ran his tongue over her pink slit. He kissed her there, exploring and exposing her every weakness, lavishing her with attention over and over again. When her legs could no longer support her, he followed her onto the bed, smiling as if he’d been the one to receive all the pleasure.

She reached for him, urging him to join their bodies together.

He hesitated for a moment, then settled atop her and buried his face against her neck.

“Jace,” she panted as he thrust into her.

He drew back, and their eyes locked.

Frankie watched as his irises slowly transitioned from emerald to liquid gold—the gold of a wolf’s eyes. Her heart jumped, and an invisible pull tugged at every inch of her being. She knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t help thinking that he’d been her destined mate from the moment she’d first seen him.

“I love you, Jace.” The words slipped out before she could stop herself.

A blazing fire lit his eyes. He pounded into her at a fevered pace. In a blast of sweet warmth, he found his release, sending her over the edge until she found her own. She moaned as she rode him through her climax. Without a word, he covered her mouth with his lips and kissed her hard.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

J
ACE
’
S
STOMACH
FLIPPED
. Bile burned at the back of his throat, but it wasn’t from the alcohol. He pulled away from their kiss and buried his head in the crook of Frankie’s neck. His heart pounded, each beat hard and sharp, like the blow of an ice pick.

Love? She loved him?

He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to say he felt the same way, but the words refused to emerge.

Trying to push the thought from his mind, he focused on making love to her. He couldn’t wait to slip inside her and find sweet release again.

Making love? Did he love her?

He gritted his teeth. Shit. He couldn’t escape the truth.

She wrapped her legs around him and squirmed until they rolled across the bed and she ended up on top. Straddling his hips, she pushed her chest against his and pecked kisses across his face, first his mouth and nose, then his cheeks and forehead—sweet, playful kisses that sent chills down his spine and a steady ache through his heart.

Was this it? He cared for Frankie, but was this what it was like to love someone? His only point of reference was his mother, but the experience didn’t transfer. How could he know, if he’d never been in love before?

Sure, he’d had loads of women, enough to give a few rock stars a run for their money, but he’d never been close to any of them, never felt the need for ongoing companionship. The only companions he ever had in his pathetic life were his Mateba, his Marlboros and the bottle. What a fucking fabulous existence.

Frankie pulled away from their embrace. Her gorgeous ebony hair fell into her face and danced around her shoulders. He licked his lips. Damn, he was hooked. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and there she was, watching him with that dark, doe-eyed stare.

But she was a werewolf—the embodiment of everything he’d hated about his childhood, everything he hated about himself.

“Jace, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed down the lump lodged in his esophagus. How could he tell her that he wasn’t sure if he loved her? He wracked his brain for the first thing that came to mind, the only other problem scratching inside his skull. “What if I fuck up tomorrow? I can’t afford to lose the fight, but I can’t shift worth shit and we both know it. One paw. What good is that?”

She gave a short laugh. “My, what a way with words you have. You’ve got a mouth worse than a whole crew of sailors.”

“Unless my mouth is dirty enough that I can bite Alejandro and give him an infectious disease that kills within minutes, it will get me absolutely nowhere.” A smile crept across his face. “Except maybe between your legs, of course.”

She laughed and shoved at his shoulders. “How can you expect me to think you’re seriously worried when you come up with things like that?”

“Whoever said smart-asses can’t be worried?” He reached out and ran his hand over the feminine curve of her hips. At the feel of his touch, she let out a long sigh.

When he finished feeling her silky skin beneath his fingertips, he rested his hands on her spine. She leaned down next to his face and licked her way across his mouth, laughingly avoiding his attempts to turn her teasing into a kiss.

His dick jerked, and he groaned at the electricity pulsing through his body. He rolled her over so that he lay on top again, and she squealed in excitement. Damn, this was more intimate than he’d planned for. He leaned in to kiss her, but she placed her hand on his cheek and stopped him.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow. Even at your worst—” she eyed him up and down “—even when you’re intoxicated and horny, and feeling as if you’re entitled to show up on the doorstep of any helpless female you choose...in my opinion—” she ran her hands down his chest “—you’re still the strongest man I know.”

Without warning, he kissed her, invading her with his tongue and claiming her. It was as if someone flicked on a switch in his brain. Despite his worries about the next day, all he could think about was her. He wanted all of her, every inch. Fighting his frustrations, he prayed to God he didn’t screw up and hurt her.

If he hadn’t already been drowning his sorrows, her kiss would have been enough to leave him drunk.

* * *

J
ACE
WALKED
INTO
K9’s with his head pounding and a constricting pressure in his chest. His stomach rolled as he stared at the already assembled crowd.

Damn, he hated hangovers.

Frankie stayed by his side as they approached the platform, while David followed just behind. The chatter of eager voices echoed through the room. A large, bulky man lingered beside the platform. He crossed his arms over his chest, and his bald head gleamed in the light. His piercing gray gaze fell on Jace.

Frankie nodded to him.

Without any response, the man climbed onto the stage.

Frankie leaned over and spoke into Jace’s ear. “That’s Alexei,” she whispered. “He’s Russian. He’s a shifter—a snow leopard.”

Jace eyed the man. “What’s he doing here?”

She followed Jace’s stare and watched Alexei hush the crowd. “He’s impartial. He’s not a member of our pack, so he’s judging the fight.”

Jace stripped off his coat and handed it to David. “If he’s not a member of the pack, how do you know him?”

Frankie shrugged. “My salsa class. He’s one of my best students.”

David almost laughed. It was the first smile Jace had seen him crack since Allsún went missing. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. That big muscled badass is a dancer? I didn’t realize that Alejandro wasn’t the only male shifter with a feminine side.” David slapped Jace on the back. “Just remember that when you’re kicking Alejandro’s ass, J.” He placed a hand on Jace’s shoulder and squeezed. “You better win this, or I’ll kill you.”

Jace gave him a single nod.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alexei yelled in his thick Russian accent. “We gather tonight to settle a dispute between your warriors—” cheers sounded from the crowd “—and a werewolf hunter.”

The cheers turned to boos.

“I ask now that one warrior step forward.”

Alejandro stepped onto the platform, his eyes trained on Jace and blazing with an angry fire. He was buck naked and already prepared to shift.

“And now, the hunter.”

Jace inhaled a deep breath. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to Frankie before he climbed onto the platform.

When he reached the stage, the air filled with palpable tension. The weight of at least two hundred and fifty eyes fell on his shoulders.

Alexei stepped in between them. “Are you prepared to fight to the death?”

Jace’s body went rigid. “What?”

“No!” Frankie yelled. She leapt onto the platform. “No.”

“Stay back,” Alexei growled.

She stared him straight in the eye and returned the aggression. “Stop this.
Now.
”

Alexei shook his head. “The ritual has already begun. I cannot stop it.”

Frankie stepped forward until she was nearly nose-to-nose with the large man. “I’m the leader of this pack, and I say this ends
now.
”

“I can’t end it, Frankie.” He met her eyes. “Your hunter agreed to this.”

“He didn’t agree on a match to the death.”

“He did, packmaster.” Alejandro straightened from his fighting stance. “Pack rules state that any sanctioned fight between a pack member and a nonmember will be to the death.”

“That was a dirty trick.” The anger that rolled off Frankie aroused all of Jace’s primal instincts. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he couldn’t believe that goose bumps prickled across his arms. Damn. Princess had
cojones
.

“The Alejandro I
used to be
friends with wouldn’t do that. My head warrior wouldn’t be so despicable.” Frankie marched right up to Alejandro and stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “I hope he kills you, Alejandro Miguel Diaz,” she said coldly, “because you’re already dead to me.”

She turned and walked off the platform, disappearing into the crowd.

The whispers erupted again, until Alexei spoke. “Prepare yourselves,” he said.

Alejandro dropped back into a fighting stance, and Jace did the same.

Alexei backed up to the edge of the platform. He crossed his arms over his chest once again and nodded. “Begin.”

Alejandro charged at Jace full speed, hitting him under his arms in an attempt to tackle him. Jace used Alejandro’s own weight against him and sent him stumbling across the stage.

When he regained his balance, Alejandro turned and threw his first punch. Jace dodged, but another punch came toward his face immediately. He blocked Alejandro’s arm and tried to sweep him to the ground, but Alejandro wasn’t having it. He bent under Jace’s weight and dragged Jace down with him.

They rolled on the floor, until Alejandro pinned Jace to the ground. He punched again, this time aiming for Jace’s jaw. Jace twisted his head in time for Alejandro to slam his fist into the platform. The warrior let out a loud yelp.

Grabbing hold of Alejandro’s injured wrist, Jace grasped his fingers and twisted them in the opposite direction. The bastard crumpled and fell, completely under Jace’s control. Jace slipped out from underneath him and pinned the werewolf to the ground.

Alejandro bucked against him, trying to throw him off. “Aren’t you man enough to fight?” he said as he strained against Jace. “Or can you only block my moves?”

Jace ground his weight against his opponent, needing to keep Alejandro pinned down, and let out a low feral growl. “Don’t push me, asshole.”

“Or what? You’ll finally hit me?”

Jace slammed his palm into the bastard’s throat, then held tight, slowly crushing his windpipe. He could feel Alejandro’s veins pulse beneath this hand as the man gasped for air. “Don’t make me do this. Agree to let me go after Allsún and I won’t kill you.”

Alejandro’s face reddened as he fought for air, but he gritted his teeth and shook his head.

“Have it your way, then.” Jace’s hold tightened.

“Don’t! Please!” a woman yelled from the crowd.

Jace looked up, but the voice wasn’t Frankie’s. A petite blonde was running toward the edge of the stage, and that moment of distraction was all it took. Jace glanced back down at Alejandro, only to rear back. Fur had sprouted across Alejandro’s skin, and his face had lengthened into the snout of a wolf.

Jace scrambled off Alejandro just in time for the wolf to flash his fangs.

Shit
.

The wolf rose onto its feet and crouched, ready to spring. Jace backed to the edge of the platform.

“Jace, concentrate.” Frankie’s voice rang in his ears, and a surge of adrenaline shot through him.

The wolf snarled as it bounded toward him. Jace focused on the anger rising up inside him. Alejandro hit him square in the chest and knocked him to the ground. They rolled around on the platform in a snarling heap. Alejandro scratched his paws across Jace’s face. A sting of pain shot through Jace’s cheek, and a warm trickle cued him in: Alejandro had been the first to draw blood.

As far as Jace was concerned, it was practically an invitation. He punched the wolf in the jaw. Yelping, the werewolf reared back. A snarl ripped from its throat. Jace howled in pain as the animal sank its canines into the flesh of his shoulder. Blood poured down Jace’s chest.

The wolf released his shoulder and prepared to strike again, like a venomous snake. Jace shoved against Alejandro’s neck and focused all his energy into shifting as he stared into the wolf’s golden eyes. He felt the beast stir inside him, and a grin spread across his face.

Jace grabbed the wolf by the scruff of his neck and threw him off. Alejandro skidded across the stage; his back legs fell off the platform, and he desperately clawed his way back up. But Jace was already on his feet. He crouched into a low stance and focused on the feeling inside him. He felt the beast stir again, and he latched onto the feeling in a desperate attempt to draw it out.

Alejandro ran toward him, fangs bared and covered in blood.

All the muscles in Jace’s body strained. He clenched his fists. He could feel it. It was working. He let out a ragged yell. A surge of power pulsed through him as Alejandro dove for him.

The energy pulsed through Jace’s veins. Then everything faded to black.

* * *

F
RANKIE
STUMBLED
BACK
as a pulse of blue light and energy hit her full force. Screams and yelps echoed through her ears. She nearly hit the floor but managed to keep her balance. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the platform. Her breath caught, and before she knew what she was doing, she was shoving her way through the crowd and running toward the stage.

Jace. She had to get to Jace.

David was at her heels. As the energy dissipated, a number of members of the pack howled and shifted into wolf form. But Frankie could only focus on Jace.

She threw herself down at his side and wrapped her arms around him, but he didn’t move. He was kneeling in the middle of the platform, as still as a statue. She distantly heard herself screaming his name.

Lines of blue light gleamed on his body, as if he were covered in glowing tribal tattoos. His eyes had transitioned from their normal emerald green to the gold of a wolf’s eyes. He stared toward the sky, unblinking.

She shook him as hard as she could. “Jace, wake up. Jace!”

“Frankie, get off him.” David grabbed her arm and pulled.

Another pulse of energy flooded the room, emanating directly from Jace. It hit Frankie hard. Her head fell back, and pain boiled beneath her skin. The familiar feeling of her bones cracking and rearranging overtook her, and she felt herself involuntarily begin to shift. Within seconds she lay on the ground, transformed completely.

Hunkering to the floor, she whimpered. Her eyes darted around the room to the other pack members. The only human left was David, who couldn’t shift. Howls and the sound of keening rang out as they all waited for the next aftershock. She covered her head with her paws to block the sound from her ears.