Chapter Twelve
Jessa stared at the starless sky, toying with Finn’s medallion around her neck. She stood by the large window of the motel Brown had found for them on the San Francisco Bay, unable to enjoy the view. They hadn’t heard from Finn in five days. She’d seen Oscar via Facetime and Skype, but she ached to hold him in her arms. Not to mention her brothers. Harry was getting suspicious, but she’d done her best to make it sound like they’d extended their holiday—not gone into hiding. She missed them, missed home, so much.
“Got you some dinner, Miss Talbot.” Brown placed a wrapped sandwich on the table. “You need to eat something, ma’am.”
She unwrapped the paper and nibbled on the bread.
“I’ll be next door,” Brown said.
She nodded. “Thank you.”
He left, closing the door to the adjoining room softly. It was unlocked, in case she needed him. But what could one man do against a werewolf? She’d asked him, and the answer hadn’t been reassuring.
“They don’t go down easily,” Brown had said. “You have to shoot them straight in the heart. Or in the head. But I’ve had bullets bounce off their skulls.”
“Thick-headed,” she’d murmured. “What about the whole silver thing?”
He nodded. “It works, but you still need to be a crack-shot. If you don’t get the brain or heart, you’re just pissing them off. Silver makes them sick and it prevents them from being able to change into a wolf, so it can be useful.” He seemed to realize he might have shared too much information and offered her his pistol. “This would be too big for you, too much kick. But Mr. Dean should get you outfitted—and trained—just in case.”
She’d never been one to read high-concept fiction or watch supernatural movies. Life was life—there was enough conflict without adding things that didn’t exist. But now she wished she’d paid more attention. The few movies she’d managed to watch in her hotel room had been horrible. For one thing, the werewolf was always some crazed monster bent on murdering and disemboweling people. For another, no one survived.
Each night, she cried herself to sleep and tried to forget what Finn might be up against, and how much she missed Oscar. If separating them would make him safer, slow down the Others, Jessa wasn’t about to argue. His safety came first.
It was reassuring to see how Oscar took to Hollis. Hollis’s calm nature probably had something to do with it. She had no idea where they were, but she knew he was safe and well cared for. And that, for now, was enough. It had to be.
The last few days they’d flown in a strange series of loops and layovers before renting a car and traveling through San Francisco, north to Mendocino, a bustling wine and arts community. Brown had checked them into a small motel on the outskirts of town. She had a view of the bay and not much else. Instead of being caught up in the beauty of her surroundings, she was lonely and worried.
She’d skimmed a novel and watched the news, but she was too wide awake to consider sleeping. A long shower helped, even if the hot water had run out. She brushed out her hair and slipped into the shirt she’d stolen from Finn. She wrapped her arms around herself and buried her nose against the sleeve, but it didn’t smell like Finn anymore.
She paced the room, so restless she wanted to scream. She slid the balcony door open, knowing she was breaking Brown’s rules and not caring. She needed fresh air. She needed to stop feeling so damn trapped. She stood, sucking cold air deep into her lungs, fighting back frustrated tears.
“Jessa?”
She froze, peering into the dark below her. In that instant, she felt pure terror. Her fingers tightened around the bannister before she pushed off, stepping into the shadows and hoping she hadn’t just sentenced both herself and Brown to a painful death.
“Jessa?”
She knew that voice and responded to it instantly. “Finn?”
He was moving toward the door. She spun and went inside, running to meet him.
He met her on the stairwell, shoving her against the wall as his mouth found hers. She gripped his hair, tugging him close, devouring his kiss, his mouth, his tongue. She swayed into him, but he caught her. “You’re safe. Oscar is safe,” he whispered against her lips.
She lost herself in the feel of his hands and mouth, his taste and smell. Her head fell back as he nipped her neck, dropping hot, wet kisses all the way to her ear. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his teeth making her shudder. He inhaled, the groan that tore from deep in his throat making her tighten with want.
He gripped her hips, lifting her off her feet to carry her inside. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding on to him. He carried her up the stairs. When they stumbled into her room, he kicked the door shut and pressed her against thick wood, his lips merciless and hungry. She wanted more—all of him. She needed him.
Her hands slid between them, unfastening his pants and pushing them open.
“Wait,” he said, pulling a condom from his pocket, tearing the packet, and rolling it on. He kissed her, pinning her to the door with his arms as he thrust into her.
The noise he made. The look on his face—raw, desperate, vulnerable. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart tripped over itself and her lungs constricted. She watched the muscle in his jaw bulge, his nostrils flare, watched the heat in his eyes as they bored into hers. As he bored into her.
“I missed you,” she whispered, turning into his kiss. “Oh, God, Finn.”
His hold tightened, almost bruising. His hands eased, but the yearning in his eyes told her the truth. He needed her touch just as much as she needed his. She arched into him, moaning as he slid deep.
“Jessa,” he ground out, crushing her against his chest and spinning them.
In seconds, she was on the bed.
He was stripping, tossing his clothes hurriedly.
She sat up, watching, waiting. When he was naked, she frowned. His body was covered in deep bruising, several wide scratches scouring his right side. “Finn—”
He shook his head, tugging her shirt off. His hand cupped her breast, his thumb raking over its peak.
She lay back, stretching her arms over her head to grip the far edge of the mattress.
He crawled onto the bed, his tongue licking the sensitive spot behind her knee, his mouth sucking her soft inner thigh. The sweep of his tongue against her tight, aching nub was too much. A few strokes and she was out of her mind. Two fingers slid inside her, teasing, working her into a frenzy. His tongue was magic, his mouth demanding her submission. She surrendered, her body bowing off the bed, tightening with the power of her climax.
His lips traveled up, over her hip, lingering over her scar before latching onto her nipple. His lips traveled up the swell of her shoulder, silky neck, slender throat and jaw. His tongue slid into her mouth as he pushed inside of her. A shudder racked his body, rock-hard as he slammed into her. His hands gripped the edge of the mattress, covering hers and pinning her in place. Pure sensation swept her away. She was lost in his blue eyes at the urgency of each thrust. Her release crashed over her, her scream broken and hoarse.
Watching him come apart, the incredible strain on his face as he powered into her, took her breath away. The sound of his growl, his hands gripping hers as he came, was incredibly empowering.
When he rolled onto his back, he pulled her against him. His arms were steel bands, holding her tightly. She placed a hand on his chest, stroking the place over his thundering heart and burying her face against his side.
It was enough for now that he was here, safe in her arms. Any questions she had could wait.
“Jessa.”
She looked up at him.
His hand smoothed the hair from her face, his eyes exploring every feature.
“What is it?” she asked, smiling.
He shook his head. “I want to look at you.”
“You missed me?” she asked.
He arched a brow, his jaw clenching tightly before he managed, “You could say that.”
Her attention wandered to the scratches. She traced four fingers along the ridges. Claw marks, and several puncture marks on his forearm. She sat up, her attention wandering along his thighs. “Stitches?” she asked, looking at him.
But he was too busy staring at her, and the tenderness on his face made her ache.
“Finn,” she whispered, watching the shift of emotion on his features. Whatever he was thinking, he seemed at a loss to express it.
“What happened?” she asked, scooting closer and taking his hands in hers.
His gaze locked with hers. “We killed them.”
Her chest hurt.
“I killed them,” he clarified.
Jessa didn’t know what to say. Her heart was lodged in her throat.
“Mal was scouting. Anders and Dante were still inside.” He ran a hand over his face. “I saw them… They asked where Oscar was. Where you were. Said things that made my blood boil. I saw red. The wolf…” He broke off.
Her hands tightened around him. “Mal said there were eight of them?”
He shook his head, his attention shifting to their hands. “Seven.”
She swallowed. He fought them alone? “And Anders… Dante… Surely they heard—”
“They showed up but…” He couldn’t look her in the eye. “It was already over.” He wasn’t proud. He seemed almost ashamed.
“You did what you had to do,” she said softly.
He looked at her, then. “Did I?”
She cradled his face in her hands. “You protected your pack, Finn. And I love you for it.”
…
He hadn’t meant to tell her. But somehow it all came tumbling out. He’d killed seven men and he hadn’t felt a single ounce of regret. Not until it was over. But seeing her now, hearing her say she loved him… Right or wrong, he’d kill them again if it silenced a threat against her or Oscar.
He’d tried to talk to them, to buy some time, but they were there for one reason—to taunt him. And they had. The things they said they’d do to Jessa, how they’d turn her into one of their pack or use her until they were done. And Oscar? They’d called him a chew toy, one they’d make squeak and bleed.
He pulled his hands from hers and slipped from the bed.
“Cyrus wasn’t there?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
He glanced at her. “We hope they get the message.”
She nodded, coming to stand by his side. “Does it hurt?” she asked, running her fingers along the gouge on his buttock.
He turned, looking down at her. “Nothing hurt as much as being away from you.”
“I was so worried,” her voice broke. “Terrible nightmares—”
He tugged her against him, kissing her deeply. He knew all about nightmares. Every fucking night he relived the Others’ words, saw their threat come to life…and there was nothing he could do about it. He’d seen Jessa as a wolf—at Cyrus’s side—and Oscar’s bed full of blood.
“Dreams,” he said against her mouth. “Just dreams.”
She nodded, her fingers sliding into his hair. “You’re here.”
“I’m here,” he repeated. He’d traveled all night to get to her, and he wasn’t letting her out of his sight.
Having her take the lead was completely unexpected, and hot as hell. Soft lips latched onto his, tugging his lower lip into her mouth. The nip and tug of her teeth, the breathy moan in the back of her throat, the bite of her nails on his shoulders—her hunger was all it took to make him rock-hard and aching.
The sweep of her hair fell against his shoulder, surrounding him in her scent. There was no place he’d rather be. He’d missed everything about her. The urge to touch her, to hold her close, to bury himself inside her until there was no fear of ever losing her again was all-consuming.
Her hands slid down his chest, gripping his hand in hers and bringing it between her legs. “Love me. Don’t stop.”
“I’ll never stop,” he growled. Whatever she wanted, he’d give her. His fingers slid over the nub at her core. He worked her over, stroking and teasing until she was shuddering around him. She clamped down on him—her muscles contracting. When she came, arching into his hand, his wolf wanted to howl in satisfaction.
They made it back to the bed, falling into the blankets before he was rolling on a condom from the bedside table. Her fingers slid along his engorged shaft and back to the tip, tracing the sensitive head as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his chest. “Damn. It.” The words tore from his throat. While he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his thumb stroked her inflamed flesh relentlessly. His other hand slid around her waist, gripping her buttocks and lifting her to take him.
But she pushed him back onto the mattress. He stared up at her, mesmerized by the raw hunger on her face. “You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured. And she was his. His heart thumped, full of so much more than lust.
When she bent forward, her long blond hair slipped across his stomach. The shock of her lips closing on the tip of his erection, her tongue teasing the crown, stole his breath. His body jerked up, forcing him deeper into the wet heat of her mouth. She moaned, sending shockwaves along his shaft. It was good. Too good. But he wanted more than his own pleasure. And dammit, he had to touch her.
“Jessa,” he whispered, pulling her up and cradling her face in his hands. Forehead to forehead, he wrapped her close and breathed her in.
“I missed you,” she whispered. “So much.” Green eyes bore into his as she smiled. He groaned, burying his face in the hollow between her breasts as she lowered herself onto him. Control slipping, he wound his arms around her waist to keep their rhythm maddeningly slow and steady.
Stroking, cupping, biting, licking, he explored every inch of her. No matter how he took her, her body offered endless temptation. Making her cry out, her body twitching and rising, only heightened his craving. He knew she was worn out, her body consumed by the same endless longing. Sweat slicked them both, but he couldn’t get enough.
“Jessa,” his voice was gruff as he let go of his restraint. His hands rested on her thighs, caressing the silky-soft skin as he watched the play of sensation on her face. So damn beautiful. “Let go.”
She stiffened instantly, her release rolling over her with a broken cry. He pumped into her, then, holding her in place until he came with a growl. They were gasping when she slumped forward over him, her hair falling around his shoulders and her cheek resting against his chest.
Nothing eased his wolf like holding her. The wolf would be happy to stay that way––until he wanted her again.
“I can’t move,” she gasped.
“Then don’t,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her forehead.
She relaxed then, her breathing slowly easing as his fingers traced the length of her spine. “When will we leave?” she asked.
“Soon,” he answered.
“I miss him,” she said, a completely different type of longing in her voice.
He hugged her close, rolling her beneath him. “Do you want to leave now?”
“I don’t think I can walk,” she answered, looking exhausted—but happy.
“Are you complaining?” he asked, nuzzling her nipple.
“Are you trying to kill me?” she asked.
But all he saw was her nipple, tight and hard and demanding his attention. “You want me.”
She looked at him. “Yes. But I need to see Oscar.”
“Your son?” he asked, watching the love in her smile.
She nodded.
“Then let’s go.” He pushed off the bed, groaning at the vision she made. Her body was flushed, bearing several patches of darkened skin where he’d sucked too hard too long. And damn, but he’d do it again. Her hair was a mess, and she looked beautiful. “One more time?”
She shook her head, her eyes going wide. “Seriously?”
He looked down at the evidence of his arousal. “Seriously.”
She sat up, her hand clasping him—
“Mr. Dean?” Brown called through the door. “You have a phone call.”
Jessa jumped back, burrowing under the covers. Finn laughed. “Coming,” he answered.
Jessa threw a pillow at him. “You take your phone call. I’ll take a shower—”
“What if I like you all sweaty and smelling like me?”
Her cheeks were red, but she looked him in the eye and said, “Then you’ll have to do it again, later.”
He tugged up his boxers. “Deal.” Then he headed through the connecting door into Brown’s room.
“It’s Hollis,” Brown said, offering him the phone.
“Where is your phone?” Hollis snapped.
“In Jessa’s room. Why?” he snapped back. “What’s wrong?”
“Is it charged?” Hollis sighed. “Never mind. You need to move. Now. Cyrus has been spotted in San Francisco. He’s with two others, a man and a woman. From the looks of it, the woman might be Brown’s daughter. Tess Brown was the name used to rent a car.”
He ran a hand over his head. Brown’s daughter was with the Others. She’d have to be if she was still alive. But how would Brown take the news that his daughter was a werewolf? And she was coming, tracking Jessa. Brown was a professional, ex-military, never questioning orders and loyal to Finn. But this was his daughter—the whole reason he’d stayed with Finn and his pack. “We’ll leave. Any other movement?”
“They’re in San Antonio,” Hollis broke off. “There was a break-in at the Talbot house. The place was searched and ripped apart.”
Finn sat, his knees going out. “Are her brothers okay?” Jessa would never forgive him if her brothers were infected.
“No contact has been made. Gentry is installing some audio and video feeds on the premises.”
Gentry was a friend of Brown’s, also ex-military. Where Brown had a personal reason for remaining loyal to Finn and his pack, Gentry enjoyed the steady paycheck, the intrigue, and the occasional adrenaline rush that came with his work. Finn appreciated his attention to detail. “Let me know what he finds.” Jessa’s family didn’t deserve to be sucked into this shit.
Unease twisted his gut. Dammit.
He stood. “I’ll head there now.” If the Others were sniffing around San Antonio, Jessa and Oscar shouldn’t go there. “Take Oscar to the safe house in Maine. I’ll send Brown and Jessa to meet you there. Anders and Dante, too. I’ll get Mal to come with me.” At least Jessa would be with Oscar again. That would ease his mind.
“Got it. Find your phone,” Hollis snapped before hanging up.
“I’m taking Miss Talbot to Maine?” Brown asked.
Finn stared at him. He had a choice to make. “Yes,” he said. “We have a tail.”
Brown’s gray eyes met his. “Cyrus?”
Finn nodded.
Brown cleared his throat and nodded. “I’ll plot the route carefully.” Brown was a master at helping Finn get lost. It was a skill he was beginning to truly appreciate.
“He’s traveling with a man. And a woman.” Finn waited, watching Brown’s face. “It might be your daughter.”
Shock and horror first. Then anger, followed by sadness and grief. “She’s one of them?” Anger took precedence in the end.
“We don’t know,” he said. “Tess Brown was the name used to rent a car.”
“Tess?” His voice broke. “Tess’s my…baby girl.” He shook his head, but his expression remained the same, guarded. His hands flexed, fisted, and flexed again.
“Can you do this?” Finn asked, hurting for the man he also considered his friend. “If you can’t, I’ll call in someone else. I need to protect Jessa.”
Brown nodded once.
“Are you sure? I can—”
“Have I ever let you down?” Brown asked, turning steely eyes upon him.
“Never.”
Brown nodded. “No plans to start now.”
Finn clapped the man’s shoulder and headed back through the connecting door. Telling Brown about his daughter was one thing. Telling Jessa the Others had tossed her home was another.
He lingered inside the door, watching as she dried her hair with a thick white towel. She’d slipped into white leggings and a brightly colored shirt that read “I left my Heart in San Francisco.”
“Nice shirt,” he said, crossing to her side.
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Brown likes the grab and go style of shopping. He grabs, we go.”
Finn smiled, leaning against the counter to stare at her.
She paused. “Is everything okay?”
“It will be,” he assured her. “But you need to go now.”
“Me? Not we?” She waited. “Tell me.”
“I need to go back to San Antonio.” He’d promised to keep her family safe. He wasn’t going to fail. “There was a break-in at your place—”
“My brothers?”
“Are safe,” he assured her. “But I don’t want you and Oscar there. Not now.”
She nodded slowly, but what she said was “I’m coming, too.”
“No, you’re not.” He gripped her shoulders.
“Finn… My brothers.” She stared at him.
“Are fine, Jessa. I promise you. Our son needs you. Please. Go with Brown.” He pulled her close. “I need to know you’re safe.”
“I miss them, Finn.” A tear fell down her cheek, breaking his heart and infuriating the wolf. As far as the wolf was concerned, his job was to make Jessa happy. Her tears didn’t sit well. “Where am I going?”
“A safe house. We have several. If we’re caught out on a full moon, we can lock ourselves in. Prevent attacks.” He spoke softly, his hand cupping her cheek. “The same reason for the safe room in the apartment.” She wasn’t listening anymore. How could she? Her whole life had been about caring for her brothers, and now he was keeping her from them.
She shook her head, closing her eyes. “Safe houses and attacks.” She sniffed. “Full moons.” Her voice broke. “Wolves. Bonds. Packs…” She was sobbing now. “What I wouldn’t give for a night of crappy delivery pizza, an old movie, and… and sleep.”
He pulled her against him. “I’m sorry Jessa.” She continued to sob, her body quaking in his arms. “When this is over, I promise I’ll give you whatever you want.” When this was over. He just had to finish it. He had to.
“Are we ready?” Brown came in but stopped on the threshold when he saw them. “Apologies,” he murmured.
Jessa pushed away from Finn. “I’m ready.”
Finn reached for her, but she was crossing the room, her eyes glued to the floor at her feet.
“We’ll drive into Oregon and fly out.” Brown told him the route they’d take. It would take eighteen hours, give or take layovers.
Finn nodded. “Check in at Houston,” he replied, his eyes never leaving Jessa’s. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Will do,” Brown agreed, opening the door and peering outside.
Finn couldn’t leave it this way. She was in his arms before she could argue, his thumb forcing her head back to look at him. “I love you, Jessa. I’ll see you soon.”
Her chin quivered, more tears spilling over as he pressed a hard kiss against her lips. “Hurry, Finn,” she whispered as he walked out the door.