Cracked

The Ushers Book 3:

CRACKED

by

Vanessa North

An Imprint of

The Ushers Book Three: Cracked
by Vanessa North
Copyright © Vanessa North, 2012

All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

This e-book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

Musa Publishing
633 Edgewood Ave
Lancaster,
OH
43130
www.MusaPublishing.com

Issued by Musa Publishing, March 2013

This e-book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this e-book can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.

ISBN
: 978-1-61937-431-7

Head Editor: Jeanne DeVita
Editor: Jennifer Murphy
Artist: David Efaw
Line Editor: Jude Griffin
Interior Book Design: Cera Smith

Dedication

For Jeanne, thank you for believing in ghosts, misfits, and me. 

Prologue

H
er hands shaking, the graying werewolf prepared the injection. It had taken years of research and two failed attempts to reach this point. The Goddess willing, this time it would succeed. With a huff, she realized she still prayed to the Goddess, even after all that had happened. Of course, she’d never been an unbeliever. Her greatest joy in life had been sharing the Goddess’s call with family and friends. But now she had neither. A lone wolf. A creature that shouldn’t exist. As she prepped the injection site, the shaking in her hands stilled. Her teeth glittered in the moonlight pouring through the window as she bared them in a grimace and pierced her skin. Her breath flew from her, rushing, as she pushed in the plunger. She felt the animal within her trying to surface, but she pushed it down deep. Her wolf wasn’t welcome to this party.

After a few moments, she felt the chill of the drug, muting her senses, washing over her. A whine slipped from her lips and she knew the battle was on, the race between the wolf and the drug. She summoned what little was left of her free will and crushed the wolf down again.

“You can’t be here.” Raven stood before her, looking as timeless and lovely as ever. Another whine slipped from her lips and she realized the drug hadn’t succeeded in subduing her wolf.

“Aren’t you supposed to take me to the spirit world, Guide? I’m not writhing on a hotel room bed, which means I succeeded, right?” She desperately needed to be right.

“I’m sorry, little one. You have work still to do. I can’t take you yet.” Sadness creased Raven’s forehead, and her hand reached forward, as if to caress her face.

“What work? I was destroyed by everyone I loved—there is nothing left for me.” A small sob escaped the wolf.

“You destroyed yourself. Free will and all that. But I won’t finish the job for you. Go home. You need to go home and make it right, whatever it takes.”

“Is this the Goddess asserting her will?” The wolf scowled bitterly.

“No, little one. It’s me interceding on your behalf because you still have one friend left. You have a task left to complete. It’s not just Ushers who need to accept their fate.”

The wolf scowled as she felt the warmth seeping back into her body. As if from underwater, she heard muffled shouts of horror.

“Y’all, someone call 9-1-1, this chick’s OD’ing in here!”

And then her wolf howled in triumph as it overwhelmed her senses and took over enough of her body to bend it back to its will.

Chapter One

S
arita Murphy grinned to herself as she made her way toward Mac’s room. Cormac Murphy was her cousin, but he was also her best friend—having been born just a few months after her, they’d spent their entire childhood together. Well, them and Bear, her Guide. His name was Gerard, but since he turned into a big brown bear whenever he felt like it, she’d been calling him Bear since childhood. Bear and Mac were her best friends, and she knew she was a lucky girl to have these two guys in her life.

At twenty-five years old, she and Mac had recently undergone their first shift. If she was being honest with herself, she would admit that she was jealous that Mac’s first shift came a moon before hers—she
was
older. But it was really no big deal now that she had her wolf too. And boy, did the whole family make a fuss over her. The Chosen One. The Third Usher. She was somehow supposed to free the Goddess from where she was trapped between worlds. Secretly, she didn’t have any idea how anyone expected little Sarita Murphy to do anything like that, but Gerard reassured her that she was exactly what they needed. Anyway, now she and Mac were no longer pups. And she needed Mac’s advice. She’d confided in him about her feelings for Gerard. Sure, he was a little stuffy and over-protective, but he was so sweet and kind, and, well, handsome as hell—he had the most perfect brown hair and stubbled chin and his eyes were an amazing golden green that made her think of moss-covered trees and mountain caves. She grinned as she thought about the way he’d respond to the seduction she had planned.

He’d be wary at first. Confused. She’d be prepared for that.

“Italove, you’re too young. This infatuation, it’s only temporary,” he’d warn her as her hands stroked up his chest, tangling in the soft hairs. She’d have to stand on tiptoes to kiss his chin, begging him with her body to pull her closer.

“I’m old enough. I want you, this. Now, Bear,” she’d whisper, pressing her lips to his. After a moment of resistance, he’d sweep his tongue through her mouth, losing himself in the taste of her before sweeping her off her feet and onto the bed.

Of course, Sarita wasn’t really sure what would happen after that. It’s not like she’d ever actually
had
sex before. Not with Bear guarding her chastity as well as her life. She snorted. It wasn’t exactly normal to have a ginormous bear camped outside your door every night. Her mom, Bianca, told her he’d been like that ever since he first showed up at the compound before she’d been born. Superprotective. Wasn’t she just a lucky wolf? Well, lucky or not, she was one horny wolf, and she was going after what she wanted. She just needed to get some advice from Mac on how to get Gerard alone and behind closed doors. Ever since she’d first shifted, he’d been putting the brakes on any time the two of them spent alone, almost as if he knew her plans for him. She pushed open the door to Mac’s room without knocking, stopping cold at the sight before her.

Her best friend and her Guide, kissing.

Not just a little bit either.

Their hands fisted in each other’s hair, their tongues tangled, and low growls filled the room as the two men bit and kissed each other’s lips. They were rough and hard, and it was fierce, tense, filled with longing and lust and a sense of urgency she’d never seen from either man before. A part of her struggled to reconcile the passion she saw in their faces with the gentleness they had always shown her. Her shocked gasp must have caught their attention, because they broke apart, their shifted teeth bared as they stared at her in something very much like horror.

“Italove…” Gerard’s voice rumbled as he reached for her, his worry leaping into her through their connection. She shook her head, blocking him as best she could from her mind. She turned and faced Mac, the tortured look on his face telling her all she needed to know.

“How dare you?” She felt the words burst from her in a growl. “You knew how I felt about him. You
knew.
You’re supposed to be my best friend.” Feeling the tears filling her eyes, Sarita snarled at the two men reaching for her and spun on her heel, letting the door slam shut behind her. She didn’t remember stepping onto the elevator or out of the building. She had a brief moment of anger as she realized her clothes had shredded when she shifted. And then she was running, the remnants of her favorite jeans scattering behind her, still shocked at the betrayal she felt. Her legs stretched; fur bunched over powerful muscles. She was so angry she didn’t notice the man standing in her path until she was almost on top of him. With a start, she shifted back to her human form, and he caught her. She felt the tears exploding from her like a dam bursting, and she fell apart in his arms as he lowered them both to sit on the forest floor.

“Shhhh. Shhhh.
Querida
.” He held her in his arms as she sobbed out her embarrassment in great, ugly gasps. She slammed her fist into his shoulder, and he took it to his lips and pressed a kiss there. She would never remember later how long he held her before her sobs quieted. She only knew that as she breathed in his scent, the smell of city streets, diesel fuel, and a man’s soap overlaying the earthy wolf scent, she was overwhelmed with a feeling of safety, comfort. Home. And something else. Her wolf was pushing hard at her trying to get at him. She raised her stunned eyes to his as she felt her teeth shifting. The look of wonder on his face, of amazed joy, was like nothing she’d ever seen—had she brought that smile to his face? He looked down at her, showing her his own shifted teeth.

“Hello,
querida
,” he whispered. “I think you should tell me your name.”

“Why?” she asked, still stunned by the reactions overwhelming her body at the sight of his teeth, the stirring, coiling heat that seemed to spread through her, the need to put her teeth on the handsome, fierce man who cradled her in his arms.

“Because, lovely one, I am your mate.”

A
ngelo couldn’t believe it. He’d been trying to work up the nerve to see the woman he had loved for decades, the woman who had long since mated the most powerful wolf in a generation. He’d spent the last twenty-five years traveling the earth, expanding wolf businesses and staying as far as possible from Monica Murphy. But he’d come home because she had sent for him. Her cryptic note said only that he was needed in New England. She had been his best friend, his lover. He knew—had always known—she would never be his mate. Even so, he had wanted that connection, so he left—hoping to find it somewhere far away from her.

As he stood in the forest outside the compound, gathering his wits about him, he caught a scent that delighted his wolf. He looked up to see a gray wolf barreling toward him. He looked at her in shock as she shifted, blown away by the scent of her as she collapsed in his arms. She smelled like smoke and woods, and of all things, turpentine? After decades alone, having buried his mate years ago, he now found a part of his soul in the woods outside the Amazon compound. He wanted to weep as much as he wanted to jump, play, and laugh like a young pup. He stared in awe and wonder at the beautiful creature who sobbed in his arms, desperate to soothe whatever hurt was causing the flood of tears she cried against his chest. When she pulled back a fist and pounded him with it, he took her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

Gradually her sobs slowed, then stilled, and she took a great shuddering breath. She tilted her head up to meet his eyes, and he was lost. His teeth shifted, and he smiled down at her. Her own tiny, pointed fangs were showing. When he asked her name, she just looked stunned.

“Why?” Her voice was rough and breathy, and it rolled across his senses, pulling his wolf closer to the surface.

“Because, lovely one, I am your mate.” He touched the softness of her hair, falling around her shoulders in ebony waves, skimmed a finger across her tanned cheekbones. She was familiar, though he was certain he’d never seen her before. Beautiful. Fascinating.
Young
.

“I’m too young.” She shook her head. “We don’t mate so young.” But her hand traced the lines of his forehead, down his face to his chin.

“I saw you shift,
querida
,” he reminded her, looking into her eyes—they were a deep purplish blue, ink-dark. “You’re a wolf, not a pup.”

“But…”

“I’m not going to bite you right now, little love. There is plenty of time to get to know each other.” He pulled her tighter into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I need to get to the compound. I assume you live there?”

“You could say that.” Her eyes rolled, and he had another spark of recognition.

“You’re a Murphy, aren’t you?” he asked, watching her response carefully.

“Oh, you know the family then.” She gave him a pointed look. “Which one?”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, are you friends with my Dad? One of his brothers?”

“Monica, mostly. I’m friends with Monica. She summoned me back. I used to be affiliated with the Amazon Pack. Now I’m a rogue.” He smiled sadly, then a look of horror crossed his face. “You’re not her daughter, are you?”

“No, Auntie Mo doesn’t have a daughter. Just my cousin Cormac.” She frowned, an intense anger lining her face. “Lying, deceitful bastard.”

“Whoa. Okay, so not on nice terms with cousin Cormac.”

“He was my best friend up until about a half hour ago.”

“I see. A fight? Is that why you were crying?”

“You know, it hardly seems worth mentioning now.” She sighed. “But he hurt my feelings. He betrayed my trust.”

“I see,” Angelo nodded. “So, Murphy. You haven’t told me your first name yet.”

“I’m Sarita Murphy.” She smiled at him, holding out her hand for a shake.

“Angelo Gonzalez.” He pressed a kiss to her knuckles again, breathing in her smoky scent. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a very, very long time, Sarita.” He helped her to her feet. “Would you like to walk back? Or run?”

She smiled sheepishly, “I’m actually not sure I can shift again so soon. It’s only the second time I’ve ever shifted. So maybe we should walk.”

“You
are
young.” He nodded—looking at her, he noticed that the line tattooed on her sternum was still very fresh-looking, black and flaking. He tried not to notice her perfect little breasts with their puffy brown nipples, but even the part of him that wasn’t howling in excitement was only human.
Mine, his wolf strutted in satisfaction.
“You’re Jack and Bianca’s daughter,
sí
?”

“Yeah. Everyone says I look just like my dad.”

He studied her profile. He could definitely see some of Jack in her face, but there was a softness, a sense of humor that reminded him more of Bianca—the Albina. Bianca as a young wolf had an edge like sharpened steel from the mockery she had endured from other wolves. Sarita lacked that edge, but she definitely had inherited some of her mother’s mannerisms, a certain tilt to her head, and a defiant jut of the chin.

“You look like him and your mother both. I care a great deal for your parents, Sarita. I served your mother before you were born.”

“Cool. So you’re wicked old then?”

He looked at her sharply, saw the dimple flickering in her cheek, and he smiled. “And you are going to be a handful,” he observed. Not that he’d have it any other way. A strong woman with a sense of humor—was anything more of a turn-on?

“Runs in the family.” She sighed. “Both families.”

“Ah. There it is. The Third Usher. The Chosen One.”

“You knew?”

“You don’t recognize my name, do you,
querida
?”

“Angelo. No. I’m sorry. Should I?”

“I was your Mother’s Third, and Monica’s before her.”

“Oh. My. Goddess.” She stared as the pieces fell into place. “You and Auntie Mo were lovers.” She felt a burst of jealousy at the thought.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked, sweeping a branch out of her path as she walked past him.

She snarled, “Angry, actually.” She looked at him in wonder. “Like I want to bitch slap my aunt across the face and warn her to never touch you again.”

Angelo laughed, thrilled that she felt the mating instinct so hard. “Good. That means you see me as yours.”

“Are you? Mine?”

“From now until the day I die,
querida
.”