Twilight Hunter (The Execution Underground) (16 page)

Francesca snuggled deeper into the blanket, as if to shield herself from the gruesome details. “If he’s not a demon, then where did that symbol come from?”

David shrugged. “I honestly have no clue. Maybe he’s got one those hell-crawlers working for him. They’d do anything for a little bloodshed.”

“I don’t think it’s a demon. I’ve seen that symbol before, and I’ve never crossed paths with a demon in my life. As far as I know anyway,” Francesca said.

David’s eyes widened. “You know that symbol? He’s a werewolf?”

Jace snorted. “I thought so, but now... A werewolf hopped up on steroids, maybe.”

“No, he’s not a werewolf. And no, it’s not one of
our
symbols.” She eyed Jace, forcibly including him with her people. “I can’t remember where I’ve seen it. I just know I have.”

“Well, that doesn’t give us much to work with.”

“Look, I’m sorry I can’t remember, but I’ll keep thinking on it. But don’t act like that’s our only hope. We’ve got information to work with. First off, we know that he
is
able to shift, most likely into wolf form, since that’s what his scent smells like, but we can’t rule out any other possibilities.

“Secondly, we know he has abilities that a regular werewolf doesn’t. Did you see how easily he lifted David and me together? He’s got extra strength. Not to mention the healing thing. That guy pulled a bullet out of his own chest, for God’s sake. I’m guessing a demon could have similar strength, but since he’s immune to David’s exorcism, that rules out the possibility that he’s a demon. Third, there’s the symbol. We just have to figure out what it means.”

All three men stared at her in silence.

She sighed. “So, we need to take a different approach. There is no way we can fight this guy with just two men and one female wolf. We’re going to need an advantage, something he isn’t expecting.”

Jace leaned back into the couch again. “And what exactly would that be?”

“You’ll need to shift, Jace.”

He blinked several times, unsure if he’d fully processed what she said.

“But Jace
can’t
shift, can he? He’s only half werewolf,” David said.

Jace cringed. Hearing the words said out loud, in a room with two other hunters, stung like a bitch. Anything was better than being one of the monsters. Hell, the black plague would have been preferable.

Frankie sat forward. “It’s not that he can’t shift, he just
hasn’t
shifted.”

Jace gritted his teeth and swallowed his rage at the whole discussion. “What are you talking about?”

“With some training, you could learn how to shift.”

Jace shoved himself off the couch and hobbled from the room, courtesy of his damaged leg. “No, I won’t do it,” he called back over his shoulder. Anger ripped at his insides.

David caught him by the arm. “J, at least listen to what she has to say.”

“David, don’t you start this with me. You know—”

“J, we’re talking about people’s lives here! Would you stop thinking about yourself for one damn minute and listen to the woman?” David yelled.

Jace pulled his arm away but stepped back into the living room. In all the years he’d known David, the man had never so much as raised his voice to anything other than some sick demon wearing a human’s body like a swanky new suit coat.

“Thank you.” David turned to Francesca. “Continue.”

Francesca nodded. “As I was saying, all you would need is some training.”

“And you could train him?” David asked.

She let out a long sigh. “No, I couldn’t. He’d need to become a part of a pack in order to shift, at least temporarily. Shifting for the first time isn’t easy, and the presence of other wolves lessens the difficulty. Supernatural strength in numbers. There are a lot of things he’d need to learn after being approved by the packmaster and the pack.”

Jace scoffed. “There is no way in hell your asshole packmaster would allow a hunter into his pack.”

She shoved the blanket away. “It’s not the packmaster’s approval you’d need to worry about—it’s the pack’s. If you’re willing, I can guarantee that I can get you in far enough to let the pack vote on it.”

“How do you know you could get me past the packmaster? All he sent to look for that son of a bitch was you. No offense, Princess, but you’re only one person. If he cared so much about catching this killer, why didn’t he send more people?”

Her jaw set into a hard line. “Look, even though more people weren’t sent, it doesn’t mean anything. Just trust me.”

“How do you know so much about what he thinks?”

Her hands clenched into fists, and she stood. “Because I
am
the packmaster.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

F
RANKIE
’
S
HEART
WAS
pounding so hard she could feel the pulse in her neck. Silence hung in the air as the room filled with palpable tension.

“My name isn’t Francesca. Francesca is my mother’s name.” She cleared her throat and fought down the bile rising in her stomach. “My real name is Frankie. Frankie Amato. I’m the Rochester packmaster.”

After several long moments the men’s utter shock and confusion passed. Frankie watched in horror as Jace’s face tightened with rage. Rage she knew was directed straight at her.

Jace snarled. “Get out.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Not you.” He turned to David and Shane. “You two, get out.”

David stepped toward him. “Jace, keep your cool, man. We—”

Jace growled. “Out.”

David and Shane left the apartment. As the door closed behind them, Jace turned toward Frankie. The already constricted feeling in her chest tightened in a sharp pain. She’d expected nothing less than pure, unadulterated anger from him. But the expression painted across his face contained more pain than anger. His emerald eyes revealed his true feeling: betrayal.

“Did it amuse you that I didn’t know your real name? Your real job? When did you plan on telling me the truth, huh? Not before we screwed, obviously? Before or after I trus—” He paused, then cursed. “Damn. What am I talking about? I sound like a woman. You don’t owe me anything. Forget about it.”

“Jace, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but you’re a hunter. Even though you said you wanted to partner with the pack now, I thought you might kill me if you knew I was the Alpha, the packmaster. It seemed like too sweet a chance for a hunter to pass up. Once you let me go and we started working together, I didn’t know how to come out and say it. But why does my role as packmaster have to change anything? Why does it matter?”

He laughed, showcasing his disbelief. “Why does it
matter?
It matters because I’ve had a hard enough time trusting you throughout this whole ordeal because you’re a werewolf. Now I find out you’re the pack Alpha and you don’t think that changes anything?”

“If you were okay with who you thought I was, why aren’t you okay with me being packmaster?”

He spun around so he wasn’t looking at her and ran his fingers through his gorgeous auburn hair. What she would give to run her own fingers through it...

“I wasn’t okay with it.”

“You sure seemed okay with it when you were screwing me.” Frankie gritted her teeth. She knew it was a low blow, but she didn’t care.

Jace froze. His whole body stiffened before he straightened and squared his shoulders. Before she knew what was happening, he slammed her against the living room wall, grinding his massive cock against her as he wrapped her legs around his hips.

“You’re right,” he growled into her ear. The heat of his breath sent shivers down her spine. “I am perfectly okay with screwing you.”

His soft lips trailed down to her collarbone, and she sucked in a harsh breath. She was already wet for him.

“Jace...” His name came out in a breathy voice she hadn’t intended.

His chest pressed into hers, holding her against the wall as his hands trailed down the curves of her body. He rubbed one rough-tipped finger under the edge of her shirt, and she melted. Soft lips and rough, masculine hands.

“Is this what you want?” He slid his hands under her shirt and snaked his palm underneath her bra. He rubbed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She gasped and dug her hands into his hair. Forcing his head toward her, she kissed him hard. Their tongues intertwined in a sensual rhythm. What he could do with that tongue of his... He sucked on her bottom lip, and she felt herself coming unhinged. Her whole body relaxed into his.

He pulled back and broke lip contact. His eyes burned for a moment, then he shook his head as if to clear it. Slowly he released her and stepped away. “If I can’t expect the truth from you, don’t expect anything from me. Once this is over, I’m done cooperating with your people, and if any of you step out of line, I
will
be there to hunt you down.”

He walked out of the apartment. Frankie wrapped her arms around herself and tried to ease the chills rushing through her body. Her stomach twisted into a knot. She slid down the wall until she was sitting on the floor. Pulling her legs to her chest, she rested her head on her knees.

* * *

J
ACE
STORMED
DOWN
the stairs despite the pain in his leg and out into the street. David and Shane were standing outside, talking in low voices. When he burst out the front door, they both glanced in his direction. Shane rushed inside, but David stood his ground. Jace perched on the edge of the stoop, reached inside his coat for a Marlboro and lit up.

The sweet smoke filled his lungs, but nothing could calm him now. He thought back to the other night when he’d found Francesca...Frankie...whatever...in that alleyway, the way she’d reacted to the sight of his gun. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t even count how many things had gone wrong since then. Where was his head at?

In between her sweet legs, that was where.

His dick hardened as he remembered how her body felt pressed against his. The taste of her lips. A deep growl rumbled in his chest, and he sucked hard on his cigarette in a vain attempt to drown out the memories. If he was going to get her out of his head, he would need something a lot stronger than a cigarette.

“You need a minute to yourself or can I pick your brain?” David said from behind him.

“Be my guest.”

With some careful maneuvering, David lowered himself down to Jace’s side and nodded at the cigarette. “That’s gonna kill you some day, you know.”

Jace dragged in another long smoke-filled breath. “Now you sound like her. Besides, it doesn’t affect me as much as it would a human. You know that.”

“What’s going on with you and her, J? You’re usually more focused than this.”

Jace shrugged and blew out more smoke. “I don’t know.”

Sighing, David rested his elbows on his knees. “She’s beautiful, and she’s gotten under your skin.”

Jace ignored him and flicked away his ashes. They sat in silence for several minutes before Jace cleared his throat. “She’s a werewolf.”

“I know. So?”

“She’s Rochester’s packmaster, David. I hunt her kind for a living and she’s one of the head honchos. How the hell am I supposed to do my job when I’m sleeping with the enemy?”

“Since when have you cared about playing by the rules? At the rate you’re going, unless you bring this asshole’s head to Damon on a silver platter, you’re out, and even then, you better pray on bended knee that he has one forgiving bone in his body. You lied about your bloodline so you could be a hunter. Why start sweating the details now? Do as you please. You have nothing to lose.”

“When did you get so lenient about the guidelines, Mr. ‘Be at the Meeting on Time and Don’t Disrespect Damon’?” Jace mocked.

David crossed his arms over his chest, and a grim look tightened his features. “Since Damon forced me to choose between my job and my friends.”

Jace stubbed out his cigarette and clapped David on the shoulder. “Thanks for having my back.”

David relaxed a little and leaned back against the door. “You owe me big-time, like ‘sacrifice your firstborn child’ big-time.”

Jace chuckled and offered David the flask from inside his coat.

David refused but tapped his forefinger against the metal. “Take a large shot of that before we keep talking. You aren’t buzzed enough to discuss this yet.”

Jace didn’t need to be told twice. He swallowed three large gulps, nearly draining the flask dry. The warm liquid sloshed down his throat.

“You know that you seriously need to consider taking her offer, right? About learning how to shift?” David said.

Jace shook his head. “I can’t, David. You know I can’t.”

David frowned. “No. I know you don’t want to. There’s no
can’t
about it, J.”

Jace shot him a glare and tightened his grip on the flask, wishing there was still whiskey in it. “You should know better than anyone that I can’t, David. I refuse to be anything like that dirtbag piece of shit who was my father.”

“I hate to say it, Jace, but forget your daddy issues for a minute and screw your head on straight. Shifting doesn’t mean you’re anything like your lowlife father. You’re not a coward. You need to face any personal issues you may have and do this. The longer you wait, the more women that monster will slaughter. And the only way you’ll be like your father is if you sit around and do nothing to save them.” David slowly rose from the stoop and reached for the door.

Jace sighed. “You sure have a way with words.”

David paused. “Being a closet book nerd all those years in high school came with a few perks, aside from keeping me golden in Allsún’s eyes. She always loved it when I’d read the books she liked.”

A smirk crept across Jace’s face. “You were such a pansy back then.”

“Bite me.”

“Gladly.”

David lingered in the doorway, burning holes into Jace’s back with his heavy gaze. Jace stared at the concrete in front of him. The image of the dead women’s bodies, shredded before they were sexually violated in death, was seared into his memory. Their faces would never leave. They’d had years of life ahead of them, families and loved ones to miss them. And so would any others who that bastard targeted. Yet here he sat, wasting precious time as he sulked about his pathetic issues and tried to preserve his own sanity. And for what? So he could spend the rest of his days living like a drunken bum?

“That was a shitty move, David, playing on a guy’s emotions like that. But I’ll do it.” Then he mumbled a few creative profanities to show what he thought about that decision.

David laughed and stepped inside the building.

“We’re leaving soon, before I change my mind,” Jace yelled after him. Then he let out a long sigh. The killer knew who he was. How did Robert know him? Why would he want Jace’s attention?

Do I know him?

Robert’s cold blue eyes lingered in Jace’s mind.

A gust of cold wind slapped against Jace’s back and sent a shiver down his spine. He forced himself to remember the contorted look of rage on his father’s face as he transitioned, stopping somewhere between man and wolf, the ripping sound his claws made as they tore into his mother’s clothes. His eyes had been just as cold as Robert’s. At only ten years old, Jace had wanted to carve out the man’s heart with a dull-bladed knife. The bastard deserved a slow and painful death, and Jace hoped he’d had one. And now he was about to become a monster, just like his old man.

If there was a God, Jace really needed his help.

* * *

T
HE
DOOR
TO
the apartment creaked open, and Frankie shot to her feet, scrubbing the tears away and straightening her clothes. The scrawny guy with the mop of wavy hair stepped into the room, and she sank down to the ground again. What was his name?

“Sorry, if you want me to clear out I will,” she said. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, no, by all means stay. My grandmother will be out late. She loves her bingo.”

She nodded. There was something about him. She couldn’t decide whether it was his gold-rimmed glasses, his hollowed-out cheekbones or the fact that underneath all the displays of intellect he was kind of attractive—in a nerdy way. If he took off his glasses and put his hair in a ponytail, he could even be hot.

“I don’t think I ever introduced myself. I’m Dr. Shane Gray” He nodded and gave her a nervous smile, one that clearly showed he wasn’t used to socializing.

“Frankie. Nice to meet you, Doc.” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “Thanks for fixing me up. Guess your years of med school worked in my favor.”

“Actually, I’m not a physician.”

She lifted her eyebrows. “Then how did you—”

“I read...a lot,” he said.

“So you’re a hunter, too, then?”

He bit his lower lip before he answered, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to share. “In theory, yes. I don’t really work out in the field often. My doctorate is in the study of the paranormal and the history of religion, specifically the occult.” He paused and glanced at his feet. “I’m more of a consultant than an actual hunter.”

“Oh. There’s nothing wrong with that.” She smiled and tried to be encouraging. A moment of silence passed. She tapped her fingernails against the floor, then looked up at him again. “No hunting at all? None?”

Shane shook his head. Silence fell over them again, but this time he broke the quiet. “He’ll change his mind, you know.”

“Excuse me?” She tilted her head to the side.

“Jace is stubborn, but he’s not a bad person. What happened to those women will motivate him, and if it doesn’t, David will. He’ll shift.”

“And he’ll hate me.” She sighed, and her whole body deflated. “I didn’t want to lie to him, but if he knew, he might have killed me since the opportunity was there. Once he let me go and we started working together, I couldn’t admit it. I knew this would happen.”

The door opened, and they both fell silent. Frankie sat up straight as Jace stepped into the room. His gaze darted between them.

Shane cleared his throat. “I’ll go downstairs and check on David. I might’ve missed something when I was examining him earlier.” He rushed out of the apartment, cleaning his glasses with the edge of his shirt as he went.

The door closed, and Jace leaned his weight against it as soon as he’d locked it.

He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “Shane is kind of a nerd,” he said. “A lovable nerd.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I noticed.”

A long moment passed. Frankie stared at her feet, while Jace shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. She watched him from the corner of her eye. She tried not to imagine where the zipper led. She blushed.

I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that, especially now.