“I understand your need for discretion, but there’s going to come a time when they won’t blindly follow your orders anymore.”
Ian Gregor scowled at his cousin. Doubt of any kind certainly wasn’t welcome, especially from him. “They won’t…?” He let the question hang. “Or you won’t?”
“Fuck you.” Gavin kept walking and it was a damn good thing. Both of their tempers boiled close to the surface and Ian couldn’t afford their discussion to devolve into a fight. “I’ve never once called your leadership into question. Or your tactics.”
That’s because Gavin knew what was good for him. Power surged within Ian, burning through his chest like a cinder. He needed to keep his anger under control, lest it get the better of him. There was a time and a place to utilize that rage, but it sure as hell wasn’t here and now. True, they’d gone too long without retribution, but what was a few more months compared to the centuries of suffering they’d endured.
His hopes for an alliance with the werewolves had turned out to be a huge disappointment. Never in a million years would he have thought one of those bastards would have found himself mated to a vampire. And not only that, but the pack had actually accepted the pairing. The resurgence of the vampire race was stirring up all sorts of shit in the supernatural world. Ian planned to bring a swift end to that change. The werewolves weren’t the only faction for him to try and sway. Just like the human world, the supernatural one was full of outcasts. Those searching for belonging, a sense of family, a cause to belong to. Ian would take those unwanted souls under his wing. He would give them what no one else would, and in return, they would give him their undying loyalty. He needed only one thing to start the process that would bring all of his enemies to their knees. And she was somewhere in Seattle.
“Wars aren’t won through hasty decisions and hotheaded tactics. Breaking from McAlister was only the first step.”
“For some, it was the only step.” Ian suspected it took a lot for Gavin to make the confession. “Some no longer wish to live in the past.”
Ian’s eyes burned in their sockets. Tendrils of heat uncoiled within him like tiny seeking vines. He took a deep cleansing breath, and then another. He could have a simple discussion without losing his shit. “Forgive and forget? Is that it? I don’t know about you, but I can do neither.”
“No one wants to forgive or to forget,” Gavin replied. “But damn it, some of us want to at least live. We’ve been fighting for so long there are days when it seems there will never be an end to it.”
Ian knew that weariness all too well. It weighed him down to the point that he didn’t know how he managed to continue to put one foot in front of the other. But the moment he stopped, the moment he cast off the mantle of grief and sorrow that fueled him, was the moment his enemies won.
“Without retribution, there will never be closure. We owe it to the souls of the dead to avenge them.”
Gavin remained silent. Really, what could he say? Ian knew his cousin would never disrespect the dead by downplaying their tragedy.
“What about the rogue?” He was thankful Gavin changed the subject and steered the conversation back to business. “Do you trust him to remain loyal and to find the dhampir?”
Christian Whalen was a vital part of Ian’s plan and also the one possible weak spot. Of all the trackers on McAlister’s payroll, Whalen was the best. He found things no one could find with an efficiency that was damn near scary. It grated that so many months had passed and the werewolf had been unable to locate the dhampir female within the confines of Los Angeles. Which made Ian think that either she was already dead—gods, he hoped not—or Whalen was keeping secrets.
“I trust him to be the same self-serving son of a bitch he’s always been,” Ian replied. “Which is why I’m continuing to keep a close eye on him.”
“You think he’s playing both sides against the middle?”
He couldn’t be sure, but he wouldn’t put it past the wily werewolf. “I think Whalen hates being at the end of McAlister’s leash as much as we did. But he’s a rogue for a reason.”
“He’s an opportunistic fucker, that’s for sure.”
Ian nodded. “Whalen is on one side. His own. As long as I keep him happy, he’ll give me what I want.” A fact that left a sour taste in Ian’s mouth. He hated anyone whose loyalty could be bought. Their allegiances turned on a dime, literally. And Whalen’s gambling problem only served to complicate things. The son of a bitch went through cash at an alarming rate. And Ian’s coffers were only so deep.
“What if he’s just stringing you along?”
Unfortunately, that was a chance he had to take. “I’m not so stupid as to think Whalen doesn’t have his own agenda. But that doesn’t change the fact that he is an integral piece of this puzzle.”
“Caden Mitchell is staying in L.A.” The words left Gavin’s lips in a nervous rush, as though he’d been waiting for the perfect moment to break the news.
The bear shifter was one of McAlister’s top dogs. An enforcer with the muscle to back up his impressive reputation, he’d been brought in specifically to protect McAlister during his meeting with Mikhail Aristov several weeks ago. Ian had been unpleasantly surprised to find him at McAlister’s side when his band of warlords ambushed the meeting. Along with one of Mikhail’s vampires, Caden had managed to keep Ian from one of the other things he’d wanted: a young girl McAlister had proclaimed to be an oracle. Just one short year ago, Ian had had his hands on the child. Even then, McAlister had declared her an item of worth, instructing Ian to keep her safe from harm. It still burned that he’d chosen to disregard the child as important. She’d slipped through his fingers not once, but twice.
There’d been a time, when Ian was still loyal to McAlister, that he’d been sent to upstate New York to fetch Caden and bring him to L.A. The shifter had not so politely declined McAlister’s mandate, proclaiming he wanted nothing to do with the Sortiari’s dealings with the vampires. Apparently, the big bastard’s opinion had changed.
“I’m not concerned about Caden Mitchell.” It was true the son of a bitch had caught him off guard and given him a pretty sound ass kicking. The first time, and absolutely the last, that Ian would ever allow himself to not have the upper hand. “He’s one male.”
“He could be a thorn in our side.”
True. But Ian wasn’t willing to cross that bridge until they came to it. “One obstacle at a time,” he said.
“Find the fae,” Gavin said as though he’d heard the order spoken hundreds of times. “Why do you want her? I think we at least deserve to know that much.”
It wasn’t that Ian didn’t trust those in his inner circle. It was simply that he didn’t want to jinx the success of his strategy by letting even a single detail slip. He supposed if he wanted to retain the loyalty of his men, he had no choice but to make a small concession.
“The fae connects McAlister to one of his greatest fears.”
Gavin turned to him, brows raised in question. “And that is…?”
Gregor pulled open the door to Crimson. Everyone they’d spoken to so far tonight indicated this was where he’d find the mage. Anxious energy dumped into Gregor’s bloodstream. He was so close to finally getting something he wanted. “His death.” He offered up the simplest reply to his cousin. “The fae is the key to introducing Trenton McAlister to his own gods-damned fate.”
For centuries, Trenton McAlister had been maneuvering the fates of others as though they were nothing more than pieces on a chessboard. Ian couldn’t wait to see the bastard’s reaction when the tables were finally turned.
* * *
With Gregor out of the city, Christian finally felt as though he could take a deep breath. He strode through the entrance of Onyx with a pocket full of cash and a sense of anticipation that left him feeling a little buzzed. For once, luck had been on his side and he’d made a killing last night on the BSU-Oregon game. Some people complained about BSU’s Smurf-turf, but it turned out to be lucky for Christian. Blue turf forever!
The scent of jasmine hit him before the door even had a chance to close behind him. Gregor was nowhere to be found, he’d hit a winning streak, and the female he couldn’t get out of his head was almost within touching distance. It didn’t get much better than this.
Though his meeting with McAlister a few days ago hadn’t gone quite as well as he’d hoped, Christian knew he’d gained a certain amount of ground with the director. He might’ve been playing both sides against the middle but ultimately Christian was only interested in helping himself. Or more to the point, helping Siobhan, the very female who happen to be striding across the crowded bar toward him.
Holy fuck, she was absolutely gorgeous.
“What brings you out and about, werewolf?” she purred.
Her sultry tone reached out like a caress and Christian’s wolf gave an excited yip in the recess of his psyche. He’d never known a more tempting creature. So sultry and seductive she made him sweat. For months he’d been dying for just a taste which she continually denied him because he wouldn’t play her game. Well, not anymore. Christian was more than ready to take their antagonistic relationship to the next level.
He took his time in admiring her. The flowy black miniskirt with matching thigh-high socks and emerald green blouse was much softer than her normal attire. It lent her an air of seductive innocence that damn near drove Christian out of his mind with want. The shirt matched her eyes perfectly, accenting the bright green color in a way that was mesmerizing. He’d never wanted anything or anyone as much as he wanted her and he planned to remedy that unfulfilled want ASAP.
Mine. At least for a night.
Ours.
Christian’s wolf couldn’t help but to make his opinion known. Christian didn’t know much about mate bonds but he had to assume that if Siobhan were truly his he’d know it in a more immediate and visceral way. He was simply a horny bastard who needed to get off. The wolf didn’t understand that. The wolf was sort of an idiot.
“Probably the same thing that brings you out,” Christian replied.
Siobhan laughed and the sound was like warm rain on rooftops. “I doubt that,” she replied dryly.
It usually didn’t take him so long to seal the deal. Siobhan wasn’t simply a warm body to take to bed, though. She was a conquest. A rare trophy. Misogynistic? Probably. Christian was too gods-damn horny to care.
“I was looking for you, actually.” He didn’t see any point in being anything other than honest with her. She’d see through his bullshit in an instant and put an end to this before it even got a chance to start.
“Me?” A space of silence passed between them. “If you came looking for me, it must be because you have something you want to tell me.”
She took a step closer and electricity arced in the space between them. Christian’s cock perked up, and his jeans suddenly felt a couple of sizes too small. “There is so much I want to tell you. None of which is PG rated.” Or had anything to do with Ian Gregor. His wolf let out a warning growl at the back of his mind. They’d been sniffing after her for months, and now the bastard wanted him to exercise a little caution?
“I’m not interested in your dirty talk.” Siobhan’s head dipped and she looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes. “At least, not yet.”
He’d seen her defiant, arrogant, haughty, and wild. He’d gladly taken the brunt of her verbal insults, listened to her mandates, and exchanged a fair amount of witty banter. He’d watched as she’d baited him, using another male to tantalize him. He’d never seen this side of Siobhan, though. Soft. Flirty. Coy. Gods. Christian blew out a forceful breath. She drove him out of his fucking mind with desire.
His wolf let out another warning growl. He was about to set something into motion that he couldn’t undo. Something that could have far-reaching consequences. He wanted Siobhan. Craved her like he did his next high-stakes bet. There was no going back after this. Was he ready for this? Could he handle the fallout?
“I’m ready to play.” Christian had no problem throwing caution to the wind. The decision had been made the moment he met her. He’d risk anything to have her, consequences be damned.
Her full, sensual lips spread into a self-satisfied smile. She had to have known all along that Christian would eventually give her what she wanted. A female like Siobhan never went into any situation unless she knew for sure she’d come out the winner. “What made you change your mind?”
“What makes you think my mind ever needed changing?” Christian asked. “Maybe I was just looking for the right moment to show my hand.”
Siobhan hiked one shapely shoulder as though she didn’t care one way or the other. She had the whole aloof thing down pat. So guarded. So emotionally closed off. It frustrated Christian and made his wolf anxious, though he had no idea why. It’s not like he wanted some sappy admission of love or infatuation from Siobhan. But by the gods, it would’ve been nice if she at least tried to treat him with something other than cool indifference.
That’s why you’re pissed? Because she doesn’t act like she wants you as much as you want her?
In a word? Yes.
Christian’s competitive nature was one of his greatest flaws. He had to win. Everything. Every time. He was a sore fucking loser, and yeah, he would’ve appreciated it if she acted like there was more going on between them than a simple exchange of information.
A dark brow arched regally over one of Siobhan’s emerald green eyes. “I can’t wait to hear all the details. But not here.”
More conditions. More games. Christian gritted his teeth until he felt the enamel grind. If it were anyone else, he would’ve tapped out and called it a night a long time ago. “Where then?”
Siobhan’s husky laughter grated on his last nerve. “Relax, werewolf. We’re both about to get something we want. I’m not sure I like you so uptight.
Yeah, well, he wasn’t sure he liked her with so many conditions attached. “You’re crazy if you think I’m just gonna follow you somewhere so your goon can drink me dry the second you don’t have any further use for me.”
“Uptight and paranoid tonight.” Siobhan gave a sad shake of her head. “Why would I possibly allow Carrig to do something as barbaric as that? I thought we were friends.”
Please. There was nothing about Siobhan or her big, burly bodyguard that was even remotely civilized. “Friends?” Gods, the sound of that word settled in Christian’s gut like a stone. How could she be so cold and indifferent while he felt like he was about to crawl out of his gods-damned skin? “Is that what we are?”
“Well…” She reached out and traced a line from his chest to the waistband of his jeans with her fingertip. Christian swallowed hard as his muscles went taut. “I’m hoping we can be a little more than friends.”
Damn her. She played Christian like a finely tuned instrument. He had not an ounce of fucking pride when it came to her. Pathetic. He knew better than to trust her, damn it. He knew better than to give into his own foolish wants and desires. He’d known from the moment he laid eyes on her that Siobhan would be his ruin. But Christian was nothing if not self-destructive.
“Lead the way.” Christian knew he’d live to regret this. Siobhan was like an out-of-control wildfire. And he ran gleefully toward the flames.