CHAPTER NINETEEN
Ezra cocked back his fist to hit Yvonne once more, but he froze at the sound of vicious growling just outside the house.
Gwen tensed, hope blitzing through her. There was so much noise out there, so many growls, roars, and screeches, that it sounded like a zoo gone crazy, but those growls . . . they were close. Very, very close. And Gwen would bet money that one of the wolves was Zander. She could feel his rage and determination, could feel that he was near.
She allowed a little smile to surface as Ezra looked at her. “I told you he’d come for me,” she reminded him.
Nelson grunted in her ear and dug the gun harder into her temple. She barely held back a wince. The bastard’s arm was like a thick rope around her chest, pinning her arms at her sides, and she felt like she couldn’t get enough air.
Even with the gun pointed at her head, Gwen had fought him at first. But that had only made them laugh and hurt Yvonne more, so Gwen had quieted. She’d clamped her mouth shut to contain the pointless pleas for them to leave the woman alone. Now, Gwen remained perfectly still. But her muscles were tight, ready to spring at the slightest opportunity.
“We need to end this now,” insisted Nelson.
Ezra didn’t seem concerned. “That sounds like two wolves fighting to me. It’s probably Rory tearing his brother to pieces . . . unless her mate’s fighting one of his pack mates, of course, which is quite possible. Those animals know no loyalty.”
Gwen bared her teeth. “He’s an animal? You’re the civilized one?” She flicked a meaningful look at a beaten Yvonne, who’d curled up into a protective ball—her nose was broken, her face was swollen and bruised, and there were scratches on her face from Ezra’s ring. She no doubt had at least one broken rib and a dozen bruises beneath her clothes. Emotionally, Gwen had felt every slap, kick, punch, and whack of Brandt’s crutch.
“You think that makes you strong?” Fists shaking, Gwen curled her upper lip. “You’re a pussy, just like your son. Ah, Brandt doesn’t like being called that either. It’s only the truth.”
“I’m telling you, Ezra, we need to get this over with!” asserted Nelson.
Brandt’s fists clenched. “Aidan said it would hurt her most to see Yvonne hurt.”
“Then your job is done, because Yvonne is out of it,” Nelson pointed out. “Now, Ezra, just kill her now!”
The lights flickered again. Doors slammed all over the house. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
At Brandt’s panicked expression, Ezra assured him in a shaky voice, “It’s just the wind coming through the windows.”
“I can smell burning,” said Nelson. “Can’t you smell burning?”
“No,” said Ezra, but he could. And so could Gwen, just as she could feel the chill in the air. Her muscles went taut, and the hairs on her nape rose.
Brandt jerked. “Shit, I just saw something move in the shadows.”
Moira sighed. “You’re being ridiculous.” But she looked just as freaked.
“I did! I saw something! And it’s not windy out there, so how can the doors be slamming shut?”
Nelson suddenly jumped and whirled, scrubbing at his neck with the hand holding his gun. “Something just breathed on me.”
Taking advantage of his loosened hold, Gwen jammed her elbow into his gut and snapped back her head to connect with his nose. As he cried out in pain, she dived for her Glock. At the same time, Yvonne reared up and stabbed Ezra in the thigh with a thick shard of glass.
Gwen grinned in satisfaction as her hand wrapped around the butt of her Glock. She rolled onto her back, shot Nelson in the chest, and then aimed it at Brandt . . . who was about to slam his crutch over Yvonne’s head. But then the painting on the floor whipped through the air and hit him hard, sending him toppling over the banister with a loud cry.
A screeching Moira grabbed Nelson’s gun and fired blindly over and over. Unused to shooting, her body shook with the impact, and her shots went wide. Except for one.
Pain blazed across Gwen’s temple. “Motherfucker.” She aimed her Glock at Moira’s head, but Ezra’s body knocked Gwen to the ground before she could squeeze the trigger.
For the second time that day, her gun went skidding along the floor. As Ezra straddled her, she heard gunfire and then Moira screech, and she distantly wondered if Yvonne had shot her. But Gwen’s attention was on Ezra as she scratched at his face and fought him like a wildcat. His hand fisted her hair, and he rammed her head on the floor. Once. Twice. Three times. He reached up, grabbed a heavy ornament from the round antique table, and smashed it right over her head.
Without mercy, the wolf stabbed his claws deep into his sibling’s flank. He liked hearing his opponent’s yelp of pain. Liked seeing that pain in his eyes. In retaliation, his opponent bit hard into the wolf’s wounded ear.
The fight was fast and fierce. The wolf was brutal in his attack. Fury was in every vicious bite, every sharp lunge, every merciless swipe of his claws.
The wolf had fought his sibling before, but never like this. Never with the intent to kill. His sibling had not fought with honor then, and he did not do it now. Instead, he bit and clawed at the injuries the wolf had sustained in the battle with the trespassers. Fur already matted from blood, mud, and dirty water was now soaked with yet more blood.
The wolf’s chest heaved, breaths sawing in and out of him. Every heave made the deep rake wounds on his sides burn. The wolf was tired from battle, and the blood loss was beginning to slow him down. But the wolf would not submit. Would not be pinned down. He fought harder.
His sibling’s snarls and yelps filled his ears. The scent of their combined blood and rage filled his nostrils. There was something else he could scent: fear. It wafted from his opponent, inciting the wolf.
With a savage growl, his opponent tore a strip out of the wolf’s badly injured side. Agony blazed through the wolf. Made his knees buckle. But he pounced at his sibling again.
A bullet fired inside the house. The wolf’s heart jumped, and he froze. His sibling took advantage and lunged. Tried to wrap his paws around the wolf’s neck. But the wolf fought him off and swiped at his head. His claws raked over his opponent’s muzzle. Blood sprayed on the ground. The wolf bared his teeth in a feral smile as his sibling bounced back with a yowl.
Flattening his ears, his sibling sprang at him. They collided furiously. Brutally slashed and bit at each other. Teeth and claws tore through the wolf’s skin and scraped bone. Pain rippled through him, but he pushed it aside as more gunshots rang through the air.
His mate was in pain. He needed to reach her.
With a newfound strength, the wolf wrestled his sibling onto his back, pinned him flat, and clamped his jaws around his throat. He sank his teeth down hard. Panicking, his opponent swiped at his bleeding sides, struggling. But the wolf used his rear paw to tear open his opponent’s stomach and then clamped his jaws tighter around his throat.
Finally, his sibling’s body went lax beneath him. Dead.
A dark satisfaction flooded the wolf. But he didn’t take a moment to revel in victory. He needed to get to his mate.
He raced up the steps onto the porch and slammed his body at the door. Again. And again. And again. He heard his pack mates and allies howl as they came to join him. Finally, the door burst open. The wolf followed the sounds of a struggle. Bounded up the stairs.
More gunshots fired. The wolf kept vaulting up the staircase. He saw his mate. Saw the human “Ezra” straddling her. He was smashing something over her head over and over. The wolf heard the cracks, felt her pain, felt the darkness swallow her, and he slammed into the human with a furious growl.
The human screamed as the wolf savagely slashed and bit at him. The wolf did not stop. Not even when the human ceased screaming and the life left his body.
“Zander, I need you over here!”
The man inside the wolf battered at him, reminding him that his mate was in need. He fought for dominance, but the wolf refused to withdraw. He abandoned the dead human and padded to his mate’s side.
She lay very still. Eyes closed. Their connection was weak. Too weak. He licked at her face, trying to wake her. She did not move. Fear struck him hard.
He could feel and hear her heartbeat slowing. Could see and feel her breathing becoming shallower. The man within him was terrified and beating at the wolf, demanding him to withdraw. The wolf didn’t. He couldn’t leave his mate.
The human female who had raised his mate held her hand. “Ally’s gonna heal you, baby girl. Just hold on for us, okay?” She looked at the Seer. “Do what you can. Please. Don’t let her die.”
The Beta male spoke to the Seer. “Her head wounds are bad. He almost bashed in her fucking skull. Concentrate your healing energy there, Ally.”
The Seer looked at the wolf. “Zander, I need you to shift back. She’s barely hanging on here. You have to feed her your energy. I’m hurt and weak from healing other wounds—I’m not sure I can do this without your help.” Her voice cracked, sounding sad.
The words were foreign to the wolf, but he could see that the Seer was weak, could sense her panic, and knew what his mate needed. But the wolf couldn’t feed his mate his strength. Their bond was incomplete.
The man inside him was frantic, unsure of what to do. But the wolf wasn’t blinded by issues. Wasn’t knotted by emotions. He knew the problem. Knew he himself had held back from his mate out of fear. It shamed him. He pushed aside that fear now. It was easy, because he realized he feared being without her more than he feared the power she had over him.
Pain slammed into his head and chest. His vision darkened around the edges. As the pain faded, the man within him beat at the wolf so hard that the beast could fight him no longer.
Zander’s stomach bottomed out as he looked down at his mate. He felt the blood drain from his face. Felt an all-consuming terror wrap around his heart tight enough to stop it beating.
He knelt beside her, speechless. Blood poured from a wound on the side of her head, drenching and matting her hair. But even with all the blood, he could see that her skull had caved in. “Jesus. Shit. Holy fuck.” He scrubbed a shaking hand over his face. The panic within him swelled until his chest tightened and his lungs seemed to ache with the effort to breathe.
“Don’t go crazy on us, Zander,” said Bracken.
He couldn’t promise anything on that front. Rage and despair filled every part of him. He could feel Ally’s healing energy trickle through Gwen. Feel it soothe. But he didn’t feel it heal.
As Zander reached out to take Gwen’s hand, pain blasted through his shoulder. He’d forgotten his own injuries. They didn’t matter. He pushed the pain aside. It wasn’t important. She was important. Fixing the fucking skull that was caved in was important.
“Tell me you can heal that head wound, Ally,” he said, almost choking on the words. “Tell me you can do it.” Because he’d lose every bit of rationality left in him if she couldn’t make him that promise. He’d seen Ally heal many wounds, but nothing like that.
Ally licked her lips, nervous. “Honestly, I’ve never healed a wound that bad before.” Her voice shook. “That’s why I need you. Feed her energy.”
Squeezing Gwen’s hand, Zander shoved energy down their mating bond, too frantic to celebrate right then that it was finally fully formed. He fed her strength and bolstered the bond that was currently as fragile as she was. Her heartbeat was lazy and erratic. Her breathing was steady but so damn shallow that he wasn’t sure her lungs would keep working much longer.
The entire time, his pack mates and Yvonne alternated between whispering assurances to Zander and urging Gwen to hold on as they gathered around them. But the assurances didn’t work, because she didn’t seem to be healing. His raging wolf was in an absolute frenzy, clawing at Zander, demanding he do something.
Zander did all he could do—he kept on pushing energy down the mating bond, heart thudding in his chest, wishing he could do more. He did it over and over, until his head began to spin and darkness crept around his vision. He was weak from blood loss, but he couldn’t let that matter.
He’d never in his life felt fear like this. Hadn’t known such a level of hellish, incapacitating, debilitating terror existed. It flooded him. Choked him. Ate at him.
“You need to feed her strength, Zander,” Ally said urgently.
“I am,” he clipped. “It’s not making any fucking difference.” Every bit of energy he pumped into her seemed to fizzle out. The head wound didn’t seem to be improving, and her vitals were getting worse. At most, his and Ally’s efforts were keeping her alive . . . but only barely. The weaker Gwen got, the weaker the bond became. Right then, it was threadlike.
Zander was just as weak. He felt hollowed out, like he didn’t have much left to give. He suspected that the only thing keeping him conscious was the crazed terror that was like a band around his chest. “Why the fuck isn’t it working?” he demanded through gritted teeth.
“There are some things that even a healer can’t fix,” said Derren, voice low.
Zander shook his head at the softly delivered warning. No. Gwen wasn’t going to fucking die.
A crying Yvonne shot Derren a hard look. “She’ll live.”
“I’m gonna fix it,” Ally insisted, sniffling. “I am. I can.”
Derren rubbed her back. “Baby, you’re wiped.”
Ally shook him off. “I can do it.”
Derren looked at Zander, his expression sympathetic. “If I wasn’t feeding Ally my strength, she’d be unconscious right now. She’s not going to last much longer.”
Ally blinked back tears. “If Gwen were a shifter, it would be easier—she’d have accelerated healing, and that would help the process. But she’s human, so she doesn’t. All we can do is keep trying.”
Zander felt as Gwen’s heartbeat stuttered weakly. Panicked, he pushed a large pulse of energy down the bond so fast that he swayed. Light-headed, he blinked. He couldn’t afford to pass out; she needed him. His wolf snapped his teeth at him, urging him to stay awake, to hold their mate to them.
“Jesus,” breathed Bracken.
Tracking his gaze, Zander stared. What the fuck? Three people stood a few feet away, their eyes dull and concerned. Which would have been fine if they weren’t partly transparent. He noticed then that their clothes and hairstyles were old-fashioned.
Yvonne shot to her feet, glaring at them. “No, you don’t get to take her.” Her voice broke, and a sob caught in her throat. “You can’t have her.”
But one of the teenage . . . entities, ghosts, whatever the fuck it was . . . slowly came toward them, her eyes resting on Gwen. Yvonne went hysterical. Bracken, Jesse, and Harley started swearing. Frozen, Zander could only stare at the . . . whatever it was.
She walked right through Yvonne, but she didn’t go to Gwen. She went to Ally. Derren growled and pushed at her, which did absolutely nothing because his arm just went straight through her. The girl touched Ally’s head. The Seer’s hair went static, and her T-shirt ruffled, and the girl faded away . . . right along with the other two whatever-they-were.
Zander almost jumped as healing energy literally shot through Gwen. He was honestly surprised her back didn’t bow with the force of it.
Double-blinking, Ally inhaled deeply. “We can do this. We can. Hold her here, Zander.”
He held on to Gwen through their bond, giving her what little reserves he had left. His entire system seemed to shake with relief when her heartbeat picked up and her breathing improved. Their bond soon strengthened, and the color returned to her face. More important, the dent in her skull was gone.
Ally sat back. “She’ll be okay.” Then the Seer burst into tears and leaned into her mate, who held her close.
Zander slipped his arms under Gwen and gathered her to him, trying to keep his hold gentle when all he wanted to do was squeeze her tight. His hands were fucking trembling, and he knew his legs would have given in if he’d been standing.
Heat behind his eyelids, he buried his face in her neck and felt her pulse beat strong against his mouth. She was alive. She was with him.
He somehow swallowed around the painful lump in his throat. For a moment, when their bond had become so thin and fragile that he’d expected it to snap, he’d experienced a hint of the profound loneliness that would overwhelm him if he’d had to live without her. A hint of the emptiness that would have awaited him, that would have consumed him until there was nothing left for him. He couldn’t live without her, and if it wasn’t for Ally, he would have been forced to.
Zander looked up at Ally. “Thank you.” The words sounded like gravel.
She gave him a wan smile. “You’re welcome. Thank you for helping me help her.”
Zander turned back to Gwen, drinking in every detail of her face even though he knew it by heart. His wolf pushed against his skin, rubbing up against her and breathing her in. Zander felt Ally then put a hand on him, felt her healing energy flow through him, warm and soothing, but his eyes were locked on his mate.
“I really thought we’d lost her,” sobbed Yvonne, who kept stroking and kissing Gwen’s hair even as Zander cradled his mate against him. She didn’t try to take her from him, which was a good thing because it wouldn’t have worked.
He felt Ally’s hand leave him, and he guessed she must have then used her skills on Yvonne, because he heard the woman release a gasp of wonder.
Moments later, Ally sighed. “I got nothing left.” And she slumped against Derren.
Jesse crouched next to Zander. “Come on. Me and Bracken will help you get back to the bedroom before you fall asleep right there.” Before pride could make Zander reflexively jut out his chin, Jesse snorted and said without heat, “Just suck it the fuck up, asshole.”
Too tired to argue, Zander sucked it up.
Eyes closed, Gwen stood under the hot spray. Shampoo bubbles and blood swirled together as they ran down the drain. It was the third time she’d shampooed her hair, and that seemed to be the last of the blood. Finally.
Nothing like your last memory being a large ornament getting smashed over your head.
As everything had started to go black, she’d known death was coming. She hadn’t had even a moment to think about what she would be leaving behind. The world had faded too fast. All she’d felt was a knowing that this was the end. And then she’d woken up. Thank fuck for that, because she couldn’t stand the thought of Zander being left alone.
He’d have senselessly blamed himself. Would have tormented himself about what he could or should have done differently. Worse, he wouldn’t have known that she loved him. He’d never have heard the words. And, hey, just because neither of them were people who liked soppy words didn’t mean she shouldn’t have told him.
Awake, she resolved that she’d tell him at some point that very day—she wouldn’t even let it bother her if he couldn’t say it back. She’d tell him because life was too damn short.
Hearing the shower door open, she turned as a naked Zander stepped into the stall. She smiled. “Good of you to shift back.” She’d woken on her bed next to a deep-sleeping wolf that was covered in blood and mud and that absolutely reeked. Still, she’d grinned, so fucking glad that he was okay.
Zander practically folded himself around her as he kissed her. Softly. Carefully. Like she was made of fine bone china. Yet, there was so much relief and desperation in the kiss—the emotions came from both her and him.
“My wolf was going crazy; he needed to rub up against you. I tried to shift back, but he wasn’t having any of it. How long have you been awake?”
“About half an hour. I’m surprised you’re on your feet—I can feel how tired you are. You were in a worse state than me, so that’s probably why it took you longer to wake.”
“I was in a worse state than you?” Zander echoed, the image of her head wound flickering through his mind. He’d been absolutely frantic. His mind had been in complete chaos because she’d been dying. And he was in a worse state? “Are you kidding me?” he growled.
Soaping him down, she said in a soothing voice, “I meant you had a lot more wounds than I did and that you lost a whole lot of blood. You fed me a lot of strength too—and that was after a battle and a duel with another wolf. It zonked you out.” She gave him a quick kiss. “I didn’t want to leave you in bed on your own, but I needed to get all the blood off me. My scalp was itching like crazy.”
“I need a shower even more than you do.” He grimaced at the stench. “I don’t know how you slept next to me.”
She chuckled. “I was totally out of it. You sure you have the energy for a shower?”
“I’ll fucking find it.”
Gwen chuckled again. “Our bond’s complete now.”
He nodded, stroking a hand over the curve of her shoulder. “My wolf’s fear was in the way.”
“Fear of me?” she asked, a little hurt by that.
Zander shook his head. “Fear of the power you hold over him. He’s a tough motherfucker. Not used to feeling vulnerable. You’re his only weakness, the only thing that could really hurt him. He feared that power you hold. Still does a little. I think it will take time for it to really fade.”
“Then how did the bond . . . you know . . .”
“Snap fully into place?” Zander massaged conditioner into her hair. “He stopped letting the fear hold him back from you. He fears losing you more than he fears that power. That realization cleared the path for the bond.”
Zander’s breath caught in his throat as he remembered their bond weakening, remembered the feel of her energy fading and her slipping away from him. He hadn’t truly grasped the extent of how essential she was to him until right then.
He buried his face in her hair. “When I saw the son of a bitch smashing your head . . . I’ll never get that picture out of my mind. Never. I felt your pain. Felt everything go . . . dark for you. I’ve never been so fucking scared. No, not scared. Terrified. My wolf wouldn’t withdraw at first, the stubborn bastard. I can usually fight him for dominance, but he was all about you.”
She kissed his chest. “I was a little scared when I woke to see you covered in blood. Panicked. Even went banging on Derren’s door to ask Ally to heal you. She assured me that she had healed you and that you’d wake soon. I could feel through the bond that you were okay, but the panic didn’t ease off.” Trying to keep her voice sensitive, she said, “I take it you killed Rory. I heard the two of you fighting.”
“It had to be done.”
She wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry he put you in a position where it had to be done.”
Zander figured he should be feeling guilt or shame or something about having killed Rory. All he felt was relief, because it meant his mate was safe from the threat that Rory had presented. “Tell me what happened after I left here last night.”
Gwen took a deep breath and told him everything, pausing only at moments when Zander took a second to spit out a harsh curse. “Ally healed Yvonne—that she-wolf is the shit, by the way. She also saved Bracken’s life, you know.”
Zander stiffened. “What happened to Bracken?”
“A coyote and a cheetah teamed up to try and tear him to pieces. He’s okay now, though. Ally healed him before healing me. He’s probably still sleeping it off.”
Zander kissed her hair. “I should have known Moore brought the mercenaries to draw us away from the house. I should have stayed with you.”
“No. Your pack mates needed you.”
“You needed me.”
“Yeah, I did. And you came. I knew you would.” She nipped his lip. “So, no guilt.”
He helped her rinse off the conditioner as he asked, “How about you? Are you stupidly giving yourself a hard time about hurting and killing those bastards?”
“Part of me is shook up by what I did. Feels bad, even. But then I remember that Ezra, Moira, and Brandt beat on Yvonne. I remember that Thad, Gerard, and Nelson shot at us, and that Ezra almost killed me. Then I don’t feel too bad about it.”
“Good.” He kissed her forehead. “They don’t deserve your guilt. They chose to come here, they put you in a position where you had to defend yourself and Yvonne, and that was exactly what you did. They put you in a position where you had to choose between their lives or yours and Yvonne’s. You made the right choice, and it’s not one you should feel any remorse over. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He doubted it would be that simple for her, suspected there would be times when it tormented her a little. Zander took her mouth. He’d only meant to give her a swift kiss, but it quickly turned hot and hungry. Before long, he was fucking her against the tiled wall. Not hard and fast, but soft and slow. And when she came, he bit her neck to leave yet another mark. He rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Gwen.” He hadn’t actually meant to say the words—they’d just popped out. But it was only the truth. Her winning smile made his chest tighten.
“And I love you.”
“Good. Now let’s finish here, get dressed, and go for breakfast.”
Sounded good to Gwen. A short while later, she was walking downstairs, hand in hand with Zander. Her knees felt a little rubbery, but she seemed to be doing a good job of hiding it from him because he didn’t comment. As they strolled into the kitchen, it was to find Marlon, Yvonne, and Donnie sitting at the table.
“Damn, I’m starving,” Gwen declared.
“Thought you would be.” Marlon jumped to his feet and hugged her tight. Then he started crying.
Alarmed, she exchanged a panicked look with Zander and patted her foster brother’s back. “I’m fine.”
Marlon actually slapped her arm as he pulled back. “Fine? You almost died. We could have been picking out your coffin and headstone right now.”
“There’s no need to say it like it was my fault.”
He put a hand over his chest. “Sometimes I think God sent you here to test the strength of my heart.”
“Then you’re weird.”
He snorted. “Says the person who always flushes the toilet twice—before and after she uses it.”
“Says the person who stupidly lies that he’s color-blind.”
“I am color-blind.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “I’m too sober to deal with you. And stop with the dramatics.”
“I’m not being dramatic. Yvonne thought the damn ghosts had come for you.”
Gwen frowned. “Ghosts?” As Yvonne then told her what happened, Gwen gaped. “I don’t get how the girl could have helped.”
“Ally said the girl gave her a sort of . . . dose of preternatural energy,” Yvonne explained. “It boosted her healing skills, because her healing energy is preternatural too. Or something like that. She said it better.”
“Damn, I wish I’d been awake for that.”
Marlon looked at Zander. “I heard you saved my sister and then practically ate Ezra Moore alive. For that, I will forever adore you.”
Not really sure what to say to that, Zander just nodded. That seemed to please Marlon, because he beamed at him and then declared he’d make pancakes.
Donnie frowned. “I want Pop-Tarts.”
Marlon sighed. “I’ll get you Pop-Tarts.”
Yvonne stood and drew Gwen into her arms, squeezing her tight. “I’m so glad you’re okay. You scared me last night. I wasn’t sure you were going to make it.” Her voice broke at the end.
Gwen hugged her tight. “I’m sorry that Ezra, Moira, and Brandt hurt you and—”
Yvonne pulled back and gripped her face, pinning her gaze. “Don’t you apologize. Nelson was restraining you and had a gun to your head.” Ignoring Zander’s growl, she continued, “There was no way you could have done anything, Gwen. Besides, you got free in the end. You saved us both . . . and then Zander and Ally saved you.” Yvonne smiled at Zander. “Thank you. And thank you for not dragging her away from me—I can see you want to keep her close right now.”
Zander ignored the teasing note to her voice. Besides, she was right. He needed to keep Gwen close, needed to breathe her in. He sat, and at his urging, Gwen settled on his lap.
“You okay, Donnie?” Gwen asked him as he bit into a Pop-Tart.
Donnie gave her a thumbs-up. “Nearly died.” And for some reason, he sounded . . . cheery about it. Like it was the first bit of excitement he’d had in a long time. “If Ally hadn’t done that healing thing, I’d have met the reaper and you’d be planting lilies over my head.” He looked at Yvonne. “Make sure that happens when my ticker finally stops ticking, okay? Lilies. I want lilies.”
“Lilies,” Yvonne promised.
Donnie lifted a brow at Gwen. “What do you want planted over your grave?”
Zander growled. “Let’s not talk anymore about Gwen dying, yeah?”
As Marlon made pancakes and Yvonne made coffee, more and more people came downstairs for breakfast. Considering the night before had been one hell of a fuckup, it was surprising that the atmosphere was . . . peaceful.
The arrival of a car ruined it.
“It might just be Julie and Chase,” said Yvonne.
But as Zander stepped out onto the porch, it was to see that she was wrong. The sheriff slid out of his car, face grim. Beside him, Gwen quietly cursed. The others all emptied out of the house and spread out along the porch.
As Colt marched up the steps, Gwen lifted a brow. “Can I help you with something?”
“Where’s Ezra?” he demanded.
Gwen blinked. “Ezra?”
“Don’t play with me, Gwen,” he clipped.
Zander growled, and his wolf swiped his claws. “Watch your fucking tone.”
Colt’s lips thinned. “Last night, I had several reports that there were all kinds of noises coming from here.”
Yvonne snickered. “Kind of you to check on us the day after the reports came in.”
Perching his hands on his hips, Colt jutted out his chin. “Shifter business is shifter business.”
He had that right, thought Zander. “We went on a pack run. Things can get noisy.”
But Colt wasn’t buying it. “Ezra talked about coming here with his brothers, making you pay,” he told Gwen. “I calmed him down, thought I’d made him see reason. But I went by to see him this morning, and he’s gone. So are Moira and Brandt. His chauffeur and brother are nowhere to be found either.”
Gwen frowned. “And you think they’ll come here?”
“I think they have been here. I think you did something to them last night.”
“Why?” she asked.
His face flushed. “Because they wouldn’t just vanish like this! I want to search the premises. I want to get a crime-scene unit out here and—”
“That’s not going to be possible,” Zander told him, voice hard.
Colt did a slow blink. “Excuse me?”
“Well, see, you have no jurisdiction here anymore,” Gwen explained. “Haven’t you noticed all the shifter markings?”
Colt’s nostrils flared. “That doesn’t make this shifter territory.”
“This does.” Derren handed the sheriff some folded-up papers. He snatched them fast and began to read them. “These are the deeds to the house and land,” said Derren. “As you can see, they no longer belong to Yvonne.”
“Who’s Nick Axton?” Colt asked.
“Our Alpha,” said Jesse. “That makes this shifter territory, which means, as Gwen said, you have no jurisdiction here.”
Gwen barely hid her smile as Colt glared at her, looking ready to explode. Nick had bought the house and land from Yvonne just days before the hearing to cover their asses in case such an event occurred.
Fisting his hand in the papers, Colt growled, “Your neighbors said they heard fighting!”
Gwen arched a brow. “Do we look like we’ve been fighting?” Thanks to Ally, the answer was no. And as they’d moved the cars so that they covered the bloodstains on the ground from Zander’s and Rory’s duel, there was no way to tell that there had been a battle without taking a stroll around the marsh.
The bodies of the dead shifters and humans had all been lumped together deep in the marsh near two of Ezra’s cars. According to Zander, Cain would be sending some people from The Movement to collect them all. Collecting and disposing of bodies was apparently something they’d done for the Phoenix Pack before.
“The deeds,” said Derren, holding out his hand.
Colt handed them back with a petulant frown. “Ezra and Moira wouldn’t have just . . . left.”
“They might have if they were worried that shifters would come hunting Brandt for what he had done to Andie,” said Harley. “We’ve all heard of The Movement.”
The sheriff shook his head. “Ezra would have told me if he was leaving. And he wouldn’t run from shifters.”
“But he might run from Kenny Cogman,” Gwen mused. “Ezra said some pretty mean shit about me at that hearing. Told some lies about me too. Kenny wasn’t too happy to hear that.”
Colt’s frown turned thoughtful. “If you have nothing to hide, prove it and let me inside.”
Yvonne raised a mocking brow. “You sure you want to come inside, Sheriff? You never did like this house.”
Zander folded his arms. Like hell was he letting this bastard enter. “This is shifter territory now. You have no right being here. And we sure as shit don’t want you here.”
“Even if the Moores did come here last night, it would be no business of yours,” said Bracken. “We all know that if someone takes their chances trespassing on shifter territory, they can’t expect to walk away unharmed. As you yourself said, shifter business is shifter business.”
“They’re my friends,” said Colt.
Gwen shook her head. “Not friends, Colt. Not really. People like the Moores aren’t friends with anyone. They’re all about themselves. You lost the respect of a lot of people around here because of them. There had to have been times when you did want to arrest Brandt for one thing or another. After all, he was making your job harder for you. But you always had to let it go, didn’t you? They didn’t respect your authority, and soon other people stopped respecting it. At least you won’t have that problem until they come back from wherever they’ve gone.”
The sheriff sighed. “Just give me a straight answer. Did they come here last night or not?”
“If they did, I didn’t see them,” said Marlon, which was true as he’d been at Dylan’s. “And I doubt they’d have come here just to hide in the trees. Besides, I think the noises this lot made on their pack run would have scared them off.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. Colt pointed a finger at Gwen. “If I find any evidence to suggest they came here—”
“There’ll be nothing you can do about it,” Zander stated. The pack would never admit to anything. Explaining or justifying themselves to humans would be the same as answering to them. “And me, well, I’m not eager to talk to a person who didn’t protect my mate or one of my kind when they were being harassed and persecuted. Now drop your fucking finger, get back in your car, and don’t come back.”
Looking strangely tired all of a sudden, Colt muttered to himself as he slowly returned to his car. Watching him drive off, Gwen said, “It really was smart of you to ask Nick to buy the house and land so that Colt couldn’t insist on coming inside.”
“I’m always full of smart ideas,” said Zander.
As the others retreated into the house, Gwen slid her arms around him. “What does Nick intend to do with the place?”
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.” Zander brushed his mouth over hers. “You can do that tomorrow, when you come home with me.”
She raised her brows. “Tomorrow?” That was a lot sooner than she’d expected, and she could admit, if only to herself, that it made her panic a little. But then, she supposed it was important to him to get back to his pack.
“Tomorrow,” he stated.
She saw the dare in his eyes, knew he was expecting her to object and claim it was too soon. Instead, she sighed and agreed, “Tomorrow.”
Mouth curving, Zander wrapped his arms tight around her, lifted her off her feet, and kissed the breath out of her.