Shifters Rule (Rule Series) (21 page)
“That’s right.”
Jack nodded wildly.
“And it worked.
He chased you.
It gave me the time I needed to get off his property and make it home.”
Billy laughed, lost in the memory.
This time the laugh wasn’t hostile.
“That old man chased me for about a mile.
He couldn’t catch me.
I was fast even back then.”
“Mom took me straight to the doctor.
I had to get ten stitches.
When dad demanded to know how it happened, you lied for me.”
“I told him we were playing in the barn, and you fell out of the loft.”
It was working.
Billy’s eyes softened.
Jack just needed to push it a little further and Billy would save his life instead of taking it.
Jack moved closer to his brother.
He lowered his voice, creating a more intimate feel to the conversation.
“You were my kid brother, but you took charge that day.
You protected me.
I’ll never forget that.”
Moving closer to Billy was a bad idea.
Billy’s nostrils flared as he caught Jack’s scent again.
The hunger returned to his eyes.
Hunger for revenge.
Hunger for blood.
He was going to kill Jack without an ounce of regret or remorse.
Billy flashed his teeth at Jack.
He howled before lunging.
Invisible metallic claws caught the moonlight as they swung at Jack’s upper torso.
The gathered werewolves cheered him on.
“Enough!”
A booming male voice cut through the collective shouts of glee.
The werewolves grumbled, moving away.
Billy was the only one who stood his ground.
He glared at the intruder and asked, “What do you want, Clifford?
This isn’t your territory.
We have rules around here, you know.”
Jersey
looked at them, each werewolf in turn.
“Do you all feel as Mr. Creed does?
Am I interrupting something important?
Am I unwanted here?”
The pack dispersed.
Most of them ducked inside the house.
A few left the area completely.
Billy remained, arms folded over his chest and a defiant gleam in his eyes.
“You may scare the others, but you do not scare me.
This isn’t your fight.
Jack’s my brother.
If I want to kill him, I’ll kill him.
Nothing you can do about it.”
“Think not?”
Jersey
nodded at the house.
“I can order them to tear you apart and they’ll do it.
Or I can kill you myself.
Do you have any idea how fast I can take your soul?”
“No!” Jack shouted.
He took a position between
Jersey
and his brother, ready to protect Billy even if it got him killed.
Jersey
shook his head in wonder.
“You are a strange one.
If I live forever, I will never understand you.
I just saved you from your brother and you openly defy me when you should be thanking me?
You take his side against me?”
“He’s my brother.”
“He’s a werewolf.”
Billy made a rude noise before retreating to the house.
He walked backwards as he went.
Pointing at Jack, he gave his brother one last parting shot.
“You and I aren’t through yet.
Someday I’ll catch you without one of your bodyguards around.
Then we’ll settle up.”
Once the door shut behind Billy, Jack turned to the form of
Jersey
and said, “You took a big chance there, Blanca.
What would you have done if one of them had challenged you?”
Jersey
(Blanca) shrugged and smiled.
“I owed you one after stabbing you.
Let’s go before the morons figure out they’ve been fooled.”
Although Jack was happy to have Blanca rescue him, he still didn’t trust her.
The shape-shifter wanted him dead.
She didn’t fool him.
She just wanted
Jersey
to be the one to do it.
They walked in silence until they hit the road.
Blanca asked, “How did you know it was me?
What gave me away?”
“You’re not as good at playing
Jersey
as you think you are.”
“What did I do wrong?”
“It’s not any one thing in particular.
You don’t act right.
You don’t talk right.
There’s just something missing.”
“What?”
Jack didn’t answer.
He left her standing on the side of the road wearing
Jersey
’s face.
Using vampire-speed he made it home in less than fifteen seconds and went straight to bed.
A dreamless sleep would be nice.
He didn’t want to give the real
Jersey
a chance to approach him in the alternate reality.
Exhausted, the last thing he wanted was another fight.
.
*****
Chapter Eighteen:
GHOSTS FROM THE PAST
.
.
Jack was reading the pointless piece of trash novel
Jersey
had sent him.
Ian breezed into the living room with an armful of weapons.
He took them straight to the secret room, restocking it with borrowed guns.
Jack didn’t have to ask where the weapons had come from.
He recognized Andrew’s favorite shotgun on sight.
He’d been threatened with it often enough for it to make an impression.
Apparently, Ian had taken the guns from the Reign home.
Ian snatched the book from Jack’s hand without warning, glanced at the cover and grimaced.
“Interesting reading material.”
Jack took it back and tossed it on the sofa.
“Did you want something?”
“As a matter of fact, I was wondering if you’ve given any thought to our situation.
Now that you know I’m your father, we should take the time to get to know each other properly.
What do you think?”
“I think I’m a little old for this.
Maybe if you’d put in an appearance when I was a kid I would have welcomed it, but I don’t need a father anymore.
I really don’t.”
Ian nodded.
“Understood.”
It looked like Ian was going to say something else.
Jack didn’t give him the chance.
Jumping off the couch, he went upstairs to his bedroom and closed the door.
Having a heart to heart talk with
Jersey
was next on the agenda.
Earlier, Jack had told Silver not to visit him in his dreams.
He needed time alone with the head werewolf.
Silver had kept her questions to a minimum for a change.
She trusted him.
He promised to explain later if his idea worked.
There was a chance he could put a stop to
Jersey
’s reign of terror before it began.
It was a long-shot, but it was all they had at the moment.
Jack tossed and turned in bed for several minutes.
His brain refused to shut off long enough for him to fall asleep.
He tried counting sheep.
Didn’t work.
He tried to concentrate on floating with the clouds, relaxing his body.
That didn’t work either.
He sat up with a frustrated sigh.
Raking a hand through his dark hair, he considered
Jersey
’s newly developed power to suck people into a dream while they were still awake.
Could he do it if he concentrated hard enough?
Jack focused his mind on
Jersey
.
His eyes drifted shut while he reached out to
Jersey
and sucked him into a dream.
Darkness fell on Jack like a heavy blanket.
He collapsed on the bed, out cold.
He was in the dream before his head hit the pillow.
.
*****
.
They were in the woods.
“Bravo!”
Jersey
clapped his hands with loud, deliberate movements as he abandoned the shadow of trees.
The sun shone on his pale face.
“You are a quick study.
I had only just sat down to read when you pulled me under.
And speaking of reading, did you get the book I sent?
Have you read it yet?”
An amused smirk twisted his lips.
“It’s number three on the bestseller list.”
“I tried to read it, but I couldn’t get past page ten.
It totally sucks.”
“Relax.
I was only testing you to see if you would follow orders.
I would actually like you to read Of Mice and Men.
If you don’t have a copy, I can loan you mine.”
This was it, his chance to spell out exactly what he wanted from his former teacher.
Jack tried not to sound too eager as he asked, “Will you deliver it in person?”
A plush olive green chair appeared behind
Jersey
.
Without even glancing over his shoulder to make certain it was there, he sat down.
Jersey
took the time to straighten his black jacket and settle comfortably in the chair.
His legs crossed at the ankles.
The chair was no doubt his way of reminding Jack who the master was and who the student would forever be.
Jersey
said, “Why would I want to do that?
You might be tempted to try something stupid.”
Given no choice but to give
Jersey
a tidbit of information, a little preview so he would crave more, Jack blurted out, “I almost burned the diary and Lovely popped in to stop me.”
“In the flesh?”
Jersey
swallowed several times.
Was it Jack’s imagination or did the head werewolf look nervous?
“No.
She was more
ghosty
than anything, but she shared some stuff with me that I think you need to know.”
“Do tell.”
“I can’t
tell
you.”
Some of the frustration Jack was feeling seeped into his rising voice.
“I need to show you by using my ability to flash back on things.
I need to show you a few episodes from your past I think you blocked out.
Will you meet with me?”
“Indeed I will.”
Mission
accomplished.
Jack almost smiled.
He stopped himself at the last second for fear
Jersey
would see the triumphant look and change his mind.
It wasn’t a trap.
Not exactly.
Jack planned on revealing everything to the man.
If the truth didn’t win
Jersey
over, then maybe Jack would try something
stupid
.
“It has to be you,” Jack said.
“Not Blanca in disguise.”
“It will be me.”
Jersey
stood and the chair vanished.
“But I caution you not to do anything you will later regret.
I’d hate to have to kill you before the appointed time.”
For some reason the scene reminded Jack of being in Principal Hardwick’s office, waiting for punishment.
The police still hadn’t found Hardwick’s killer.
Jack had his ideas but no proof.
The thought reminded him of another mystery left unsolved, another murder.
“Do you know who killed Hardwick?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you want to fill me in?”
Jersey
laughed again.
“There are so many fascinating things to worry about and you choose to obsess over Hardwick.
Perhaps you should seek a therapist.”
“Did the same guy who killed Hardwick also take Andrew Reign out?”
“On second thought, maybe you should become a detective.
You are right on the money.
The same person... excuse me, werewolf... killed Hardwick and Reign.”
Jack clenched his hands into tight fists.
He wanted to grab
Jersey
by the front of his jacket and shake the truth out of him.
The head werewolf enjoyed torturing Jack with innuendos and half-truths.
For once Jack was going to demand
Jersey
be straight with him.
Neither of them was leaving this dream until he had some answers.
“Who was it?” he asked in a deceptively quiet tone.
If
Jersey
didn’t answer him, Jack was going to lose the tenuous grip he had on his temper.
Jersey
smiled.
“I’ll give you a hint.
You know him well.”
The blood in Jack’s veins turned to ice.
Was
Jersey
talking about Billy?
Had his brother killed his girlfriend’s dad?
That would be too much to bear.
He’d have to kill his brother for Silver, avenge her dad.
But then he wouldn’t be able to live with his actions.
Maybe he’d have to kill himself as well.
But wait.
It couldn’t have happened that way.
Billy hadn’t been a werewolf when Hardwick died.
If the two murders had been committed by the same werewolf, it couldn’t be Billy.
When Jack didn’t verbally respond,
Jersey
added, “Shall I give you a second hint?
He’s the only werewolf in history who prefers the use of a knife over his claws.”
“
Helio
?”
After
Jersey
nodded, Jack remembered something else that was bothering him.
“When Blanca was pretending to be you, she told me I could kill
Helio
and you wouldn’t care.
Is that true?”
Jersey
nodded once.
“Blanca and I have spoken about many things since she joined me.
Helio
was one of those things.
I despise the cretin.”
“Why?
What did he do to you?”
“What did he do to me?”
Jersey
snarled.
“He is an abomination, a black mark on werewolves everywhere.
Instead of using claws, he uses a knife.
Instead of running with a pack, he often goes out on his own.
In his short, miserable life he has probably broken every single rule I hold close to my heart.
He disgusts me.”
Jack blinked, unsure of what to say.
“Meet me at the bar where we played pool,”
Jersey
said after the silence stretched to a ridiculous point.
“
works for me.”
And that was it.
Jersey
disappeared, leaving Jack standing alone in the woods.
Jack didn’t remain there for long though.
He was finally getting a handle on his powers.
He forced himself out of the dream.
Within a few seconds he was sitting up in bed, fully aware of his surroundings.
Now all he had to do was get out of the house without being seen.
Somehow he knew it wouldn’t be a problem.
.
*****
.
A few hours later, Jack found
Jersey
playing pool.
Ignoring him,
Jersey
leaned over the table and took his shot.
He knocked three balls in at once.
A satisfied smile stretched his lips thin as he straightened to his full height.
His eyes locked on Jack.
He gestured to a cue stick leaning against the wall.
“What shall we play for this time?”
Jack took
Jersey
’s stick from him and tossed it to the table.
He backed away, heading for the same door he’d used moments before.
“No time for games.
We have to be alone to do this.”
“What’s your hurry?”
“I don’t know how long this will take.
Let’s do it.”
Sensing the serious hesitation in
Jersey
, Jack added, “I promise you won’t regret coming with me.
This is going to shed a light on a lot of your problems.”
“Problems?”
One of
Jersey
’s brows slowly lifted.
“I was not aware I had any problems, besides you.”
“Maybe it will shed light on my problems.
Curious?”
Jack went outside.
Jersey
followed.
They climbed into Jack’s waiting car.
As long as no one stumbled upon them, their bodies would remain intact, totally undisturbed.
Without talking to
Jersey
about it or asking for permission, Jack reached over and grabbed
Jersey
by the hand.
The werewolf’s flesh was like ice.
Odd.
Most werewolves ran hot.
Jack pictured the first place Lovely had taken him, the woods where the two boys were playing War.
Unlike the time Lovely had taken him to the past there was no great shock of electricity.
Instead, the car’s interior dissolved.
Their surroundings seemed to melt.
In seconds they were in those same woods.
Instead of sitting, they were now standing.
Jersey
frowned at Jack.
He opened his mouth, probably to complain, but something in the distance caught his eye.
Not a single word slid between his parted lips.
Jack followed the werewolf’s line of sight and saw the two boys playing War.
He watched
Jersey
watching the boys.
The end of
Jersey
’s mouth rose slightly.
“I’d forgotten this,”
Jersey
said.
Jack wondered if his former teacher would make the connection without his help.
Would he figure out Jack was actually his reincarnated brother?
More importantly, would he care?