Rivals and Retribution (2 page)

But he’ll heal. Quickly.

It’s a blessing if you’re in love with a danger-prone werewolf like Pietr was before he took the cure, but it’s a curse if you’re trying to fight one off and you’re simply human. If you’re only a normal girl.

But Jessie hasn’t been normal for a while now, and the things she’s learned about what lurks in the small town of Junction has made her reexamine her lifestyle and choices several times.

She used to think Junction was just another dull small town with no excitement. Now part of her is wishing she’d been right.

She plows into the other stall door, forcing it open, and grabs the shovel leaning against the wall.

Gabriel is back on his feet and outside the stall right after her—just in time for her to swing the shovel and barely miss his head.

“Dammit!”

“Come on,” he coaxes, reaching his hands out, arms spread wide. He wiggles the fingers closest to the wall, a distraction Jessie’s seen Pietr and his elder brother, Max, use when they spar.

So when he comes at her with his other hand, she’s thinking about an important difference between werewolves and starfish. Other than being covered in fur. Or having to live in salt water.

And she strikes, the shovel’s blade pinning his hand to the wall for the space of a single, throbbing heartbeat. Caught, he struggles a moment before pulling free in a hasty blur of panic and rage.

With a soft thump, two of his fingers drop to the hay bale below.

Unlike starfish, werewolves can’t regenerate parts that are cut off. Like a middle and ring finger. Of course, unlike werewolves, starfish don’t have fingers to begin with.…

“No more scrrrewing around—” he growls, his face contorting as his teeth grow into wicked and curving ivory points.

Yes, if he’d ever been considered handsome before, he’s far from it now.

With a grunt of effort, Jessie tugs the shovel’s blade free of the wall and swings it again, connecting with Gabriel’s shoulder as his fist connects with the side of Jessie’s head.

Limp, she falls into the straw alongside the shovel.

Grinning and bleeding, Gabriel leans over his prize.

*   *   *

She wakes in the dark, her hands stuck behind her back, a gag in her mouth.

She tests her bonds and winces when the fine hairs on her wrists tear out as she twists.

She focuses on her surroundings, trying to get a clue about her location.

In the movies a bright heroine can save herself from her captors if she learns enough to use her location against them. But this isn’t a movie. This is Jessie’s real life.

Plus werewolves.

It’s not long until Gabriel is back and wrenches her onto her feet. With no explanation he forces her out into the breeze and makes her stagger a distance, blinded by snow flurries before he shoves her just hard enough that she falls.

*   *   *

He leaves Jessie then, seeking his true quarry—the alpha female and leader of the pack he considers his family: Marlaena. She’s on the second floor of the dive motel they’re staying in—a dive motel, yes, but still much better than their normal living quarters.

Her long red hair, a few shades deeper than his own, falls along her shoulders and frames her face, setting off her high cheekbones and fierce mouth and making a fiery curtain that threatens at any moment to obscure her teasing eyes. He pauses to catch his breath, to get his mind and mouth under control. He’s risked a lot doing this and he’s about to find out if it’s all worth it.

If he’ll finally win the role of alpha.

And the girl—Marlaena.

She’s leaning against his usual rival for her attention, the broad-shouldered, dark-skinned Southern boy, Gareth. The gentle gentleman of the crew who acts more the lover than the fighter, but Gabe’s seen him draw his claws and bare his teeth.

Marlaena’s wanted Gareth since the moment she first saw him back in the sticky heat of Mississippi. He’d just been released from jail on good behavior. Good behavior was the last thing Marlaena expected of her kind.

They’d attracted like polar opposites always did.

And Gabriel had hated Gareth since the moment he’d realized …

He clears his throat and waits.

Nothing.

He clears it again.

Gareth turns to face him first, his eyelids low over purple irises, giving him a sleepy look. His dreadlocks shift, and Gabriel catches sight of the beads the other girls have recently added to their hair ends.

He hates Gareth a little more for that.

“Can we help you?” Gareth asks gently. He spots Gabe’s hastily bandaged hand and the chunk of flesh missing from his face. “You okay, man?”

Marlaena glances his way now, too, finally noticing Gabe’s existence.

“Yeah. I’m fine. And, no,
you
can’t help me,” Gabe says to Gareth. “Just Marlaena,” he clarifies. “I need to speak to you. Alone.”

She squints at him, finally noting the blood that marks him. For a moment his heart speeds and he thinks that she’ll be worried about him. But his hope is short-lived. She sighs. “Right now?”

“Yes.”

She had hesitated to even get in the backseat with him and help staunch the bleeding when he’d been shot.… So why does he still want her? Why does he hold out hope?

He repeats himself, “Yes,” and adds, “now,” for good measure wondering why, after everything, he still crawls and begs for any scrap of attention from her.

“Wait here for me?” she asks Gareth.

“I’m still on duty, ’Laena,” he says with a smile.

Gabriel chokes down a growl, dabbing his cheek with his bandaged hand. ’Laena was his nickname for her first. He was her number one before Gareth was even discovered. He’d established precedents Gareth was benefitting from.

“Guard, guard, guard,” she chuckles, rubbing her hand along his chin.

Gabriel turns and heads toward where he’s stashed Jessie, motioning just once over his shoulder for Marlaena to follow.

When they finally descend the steps, he leads her to an area not far from the motel.

She glares at him, already tired of this wild goose chase. “What’s going on, Gabe? Why the secrecy?”

One last time he clears his throat and works up his courage. “You’re way more complicated than most of the girls I’ve dated,” he admits, scrubbing a fist across his forehead. He’s already bluffing. He hasn’t dated many girls at all, so most of what pours out of his mouth next is a mix of theories and hypotheses. “Some girls like candy; some are into flowers or jewelry—but you don’t care about any of that.”

Her hands settle on her hips, her fingers curling into tight fists. Cocking her head to watch him, he can tell she’s not sure where this is going, and she’s certain she doesn’t like it.

“But we’re not dating, are we?”

“We sure as hell aren’t,” she replies.

“And it seems there’s nothing I can do to change that…” He looks at her from out of the corner of his eye, weighing things, and shifts his weight from one foot to another.

Her mouth is working awkwardly before she even manages to get the two small words out. “I’m sorry?”

“Yeah. Well. I don’t even know when your birthday is—you realize that? No one does. That’s how distant you are. But I’ve run with you for more than a year, so I must’ve missed it. And I think that sucks: missing birthdays. We don’t get many. We should celebrate each one.”

“Gabriel.”

His head snaps up, hearing his name on her lips, but the spark lighting his eyes gutters when she says, “I don’t want anything from you.”

“I know. You’re amazingly self-sufficient. But, as you’ve pointed out,
needing
and
wanting
are different things. And I noticed something you
need
.”

She blinks.

“I’ll admit, I couldn’t get
exactly
what you need, but I’ve found the means to an end. This gift I’m about to give you—”

Her nostrils flare, pulling in the surrounding scents, and her eyes pop wide open in recognition.

The scents of horseflesh, hay, and a simple floral deodorant flood her nose.

“—will provide you with a way to get the thing you
really
need.” He jogs a few yards away and drags back Jessie. He grins at the look on Marlaena’s face.

Jessie growls, a bruise discoloring the side of her face where Gabe’s been rough, retaliating as he drags her before the girl he’s trying so desperately to impress.

He shoves her forward, but Marlaena steps back and lets her land on her knees, Jessie’s eyes rolling at the impact.

“So,” Gabriel asks, “do you like your present?”

Marlaena’s eyes shift from him to the writhing girl at her feet, wheels turning inside her head. She reaches down to ruffle Jessie’s hair, grinning at the way her captive fights against her touch. “It’s perrrfect. I don’t just like it—I
love
it. And I know
exactly
what to do with it.”

CHAPTER ONE

Alexi

I folded the morning’s newspaper and set it down on the kitchen table, the headline of the Big City section reading, “Stocks Soar for Wondermann Corp.” As intrigued as I was about what caused Mr. Wondermann’s decidedly dangerous business to quadruple stock values overnight, the antics of my siblings Max, Cat, and Pietr, and Max’s girlfriend, Amy, demanded my more immediate attention.

“So I said to him,” Max began, pointing at Pietr, “‘I thought she was with
you
.’ We had split up for a little and—”

Cat stepped in, still carrying a shopping bag from their recent outing to the mall. “And
I
said: ‘You mean to tell me you’ve lost Jessie?’” She gave Max a hard look before returning her gaze to me. “He manages to lose his sneakers and at least one sock out of most of his pairs—and do not get me started about how very remote the TV remote becomes once he’s used it—but to lose an entire person?”

“
I
didn’t lose her!” Max bellowed, glaring at Pietr instead.

I cleared my throat, and all eyes were on me, my position as eldest brother and previous alpha a help. “Are we quite certain Jessie has not just gone home?”

They all looked at one another.

“Seriously? You think I didn’t try calling her?” Amy asked me. “She’s not answering her cell.”

“Does she always answer her cell?”

“I had Pietr call with
his
,” Amy said, as if that was all the answer I needed. It was. Jessie would always pick up a call from Pietr.

“Who was responsible for Jessie last?” I asked.

“Don’t ever let her hear you talk like that,” Amy said. “She’ll kick your ass.”

“Language,” Cat warned with a sniff.

I shrugged. “She has a gift for getting into trouble.”

Amy leveled her gaze at me. “Pietr’s in charge of stating the obvious. And just because a thing is true, it doesn’t mean we say it out loud,” she scolded.

Max chuckled. “We were at the mall. Pietr and I hit the Game Shop. The girls were trying on clothes. Is it any surprise they lost track of her when Cat was distracted by what color makes her boobs look better?”

“It’s green, you oaf. And they don’t need to look
better,
but it does somehow make them appear bigger.” She paused, blinking at him in frustration. “And that was most certainly
not
the issue,” she added with a
hrumph
. “Jessie said she was going to catch up to you two and talk with Pietr.”

“Well, it seems obvious she did not succeed.” Unease unfolded in the pit of my stomach. “It is very unlike Jessie to simply…”

“Pick up and leave?” Amy asked.

“
Da
. Unless…” Turning to Pietr, I asked, “Were you somehow a jerk to her?”

“
Nyet,
” he said, defensive. “I barely paid her any attention at all—”

Cat and Max groaned in unison.

“Jerk,” I confirmed, nodding my head.

“You’ve been kind of aloof since you got cured,” Amy stated more gently, reaching for Pietr’s arm.

He looked down, shoulders slumping. “I never intended for that to happen. We searched the mall.…”

“This may all be quite simple,” I assured him. “Call the Gillmansen household.”

They blinked at me.

“Use the landline,” I clarified. “Her father may be home. Or Annabelle Lee. Either might have answers.”

Pietr nodded and pulled out his cell, punching the proper button. “Mr. Gillmansen?
Da
. Is Jess around?
Nyet
. She is not with us.” He looked at us, worry etching a crease between his brows. “He is yelling for her now.”

We heard.

Pietr’s focus returned to the phone. “She is?
Nyet
.
Da
. I understand. We will be there immediately.” He headed straight for the door.

“Hold up,” Amy said, grabbing his arm. “You said ‘she is.’ She’s there?”

“
Nyet,
” Pietr returned, paler than his normal pallor since taking the cure. “Rio is loose in the paddock. Spooked. Her stall door is hanging open.”

Amy pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes and groaned. “This is bad.” So fast he jumped in surprise, she grabbed Max’s arm, saying, “We need a tracker.”

Max did not need encouragement. He nearly beat us to the front door.

We piled into the convertible, Pietr, Amy, and Cat buckling into the back while Max took the driver’s seat and I, as the girls said, rode shotgun. It was a very American phrase, sounding far more dominant than it was in reality.

The Gillmansen farm was not a long drive in good weather, but peering up through the windshield I realized we were not entering optimal driving conditions. Snow fluttered down from fattening clouds.

Travel might take significantly longer, and if Jessie’s horse, Rio, was spooked, Jessie was most certainly in trouble. Time was, again, not on our side.

Marlaena

Leaning forward, I peeked out through the thin sliver of space between the door and doorjamb and looked down the motel’s second-story breezeway toward Gareth’s room. He’d be napping now, his shift guarding us recently over.