Jabba’s Journey (Iron Howlers MC #2)

Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Jabba

The irony isn’t lost on me that we’ve had more meetings lately than ever before. Especially since Electra and I completed our mate bond. It seems as though whatever’s coming for us, for both clubs, has all three women receiving messages from a higher power or some shit. The only problem is, we have no clue how to decipher any of the messages being shown to them. It’s beyond frustrating at this point.

We sit around our table, which isn’t as well-worn as the Spiked Raiders, of course and watch as Cyrus dials Corbin’s number.

“Fuck, Cyrus, seems we’re talking almost every day,” Corbin growls out through the line, sounding none too happy about the myriad of calls and get-togethers passing through the clubs.

“Yeah, fucker, I said the same fucking thing. Tell me again why we’re getting along?” Cyrus retorts.

“Because our mates and daughters like each other and there’s no fucking way I’ll disappoint Sage and keep her away from Jazzy,” Corbin says. “So, why are you calling? Shit hit the fan last night.”

“Same here. Both Harmony and Jabba’s mate, Electra, woke up from suffocating nightmares that they can’t remember,” Cyrus advises his brother. “Something’s coming, and it’s big.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. The question is what?” Corbin snorts.

Bandit interjects and says, “We’re considering going on a soft lockdown, Corbin, so at least the women and Jazzy are kept safe.”

“We’re tossing that idea around here as well,” Corbin replies.

“What does Big Daddy have to say?” I ask. “Has anything like this happened in the past? Before y’all can remember maybe?”

Big Daddy’s voice booms through the line as he says, “Not a fucking thing. We’ve had issues over the years, of course, but ever since Karsyn and Harmony came into the family, we’ve dealt with Death and then the Red Caps. Now that Jabba’s mated to Electra, it seems to have triggered something that has yet to be revealed.”

“Fuck,” Cyrus hisses out, his teeth clenched. “What could we have done that’d put a target on our backs?”

“We’ve found our mates,” I insert. “It’s the only thing that’s changed.”

“And it can’t be coincidence that they’ve in a way reunited the Raiders and the Howlers,” Big Daddy rumbles.

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Cyrus grumbles, slamming his fists against the table. “Especially since attacks only started when Corbin and I mated Karsyn and Harmony.”

“So, who are the real targets then? You guys or the girls?” Bandit poses the question, causing the room to go silent.

“There has to be more to the lore than what we’ve found,” Prowler states, then reiterates, “There has to be more to it.”

“But we have no leads to follow to figure out what that could be,” I add.

“Are we missing a key piece to the puzzle? A person or persons, maybe?” Bandit asks. “Because from where I’m standing, there’s a big blank in the warning.”

“What can we do? Sit back and wait for more dreams or try and find more mates?” Prowler inquires.

“I don’t like the way Electra screams out when she’s stuck in a nightmare,” I snarl. “Not one bit.”

I don’t care if it makes me sound like a pussy either; seeing her writhing in terror last night, the sheets tangled around her sweaty body nearly gave me a fucking heart attack.

“Yeah, me either,” Cyrus says. “Rather her be screaming my name in pleasure instead.”

“TMI, brother dear,” Corbin drawls, causing all of us to burst into laughter.

Yet, just that little bit of levity seems to settle us, and I presume the group that’s at Corbin’s clubhouse as well. Maybe now we can put our thinking caps on and figure out what the fuck’s going on before something we can’t come back from happens to one of us and we end up hurt or worse.

Dead. I mean, it takes a lot to kill a shifter, contrary to what fiction tries to say when it comes to taking us out. Literally, there are only two ways; remove our head from our body or our heart from our chest. Since we have extraordinary speed, agility, and strength, it’s next to impossible for a mere human to get close enough to even try.

“What the fuck ever, brother dear, ” Cyrus sneers, his constricted eyes aimed toward the phone’s receiver. “We’re going on a soft lockdown until we manage to dig something consequential up. And while I don’t want my mate enduring another nightmare like she had last night, if she has one, I’ll see about asking her questions that may help jog her memory. Maybe she’ll answer, maybe she won’t, but it’s better than feeling totally useless.”

“I’ll do the same,” I advise. “I do know she yelled that I had lied to her, which I’ve never done.”

For one, it’s not how I’m built personality-wise. The other thing is, shifters can scent a lie and while my little water nymph isn’t a shifter, I’m almost positive that witches have that same uncanny instinct. It’s something to ask her later.

“Big Daddy, I’ll call the school and let them know that there’s a family emergency and that Jazzy won’t be there for the foreseeable future. Been thinking about homeschooling her with all this shit going down around here anyhow,” Cyrus states.

I start laughing as I imagine Cyrus teaching his daughter about the three R’s, at least the ones he knows. Rest. Recess, and Recreation. How he thinks he can do that without liberally sprinkling ‘fuck’ throughout the lesson plans is beyond me, but whatever he wants to tell himself. Ain’t no skin off my nose, it’s going to be Harmony he has to answer to for his expletives. My only request is that I get to be in the room with a tub of popcorn when she chastises him for his teaching style.

“What the fuck has you laughing like a mangy hyena, Jabba?” Cyrus asks.

“Just thinking about the subjects you plan to teach Jazzy is all,” I manage to reply while snickering. “Not to mention, I don’t think your mate will be thrilled with the language I’ve no doubt you’ll be using as you try to teach her about common core math and proper grammar.”

“What the fuck is common core math?” Cyrus questions. “Whatever happened to simple addition and subtraction? She’s not old enough to have to learn anything fancier.”

“Don’t forget about grammar,” Prowler helpfully adds. “You manage to use the word fuck as nearly every possible part of speech, pres.”

“Hell, he uses the ‘F’ bomb as a replacement for every action and reaction.” Bandit snickers as Cyrus flips him off.

“Fine. Harmony will teach her,” Cyrus retorts. “Now, if there’s nothing else, we need to prepare for this latest shitshow.”

He hangs up the phone and glares at all of us since we’re still laughing, no doubt thinking about poor Jazzy trying to figure out what her father means during her lessons.

“Anything else? Let’s get the prospects busy, brothers,” he finally says once we quiet down.

As we file out of our meeting room, I open up my senses and search out my mate. I need to touch her to assure myself she’s okay. Not surprisingly, I find her and Harmony in the kitchen, along with Jazzy who’s chatting away while she writes stuff down.

“What are you three doing?” I ask, leaning in to give Electra a kiss.

“Making a list of stuff we need so the prospects can go get it,” Harmony replies.

We’re in the common room and I have Electra right where I want her, on my lap, when Queenie approaches. She’s sashaying her hips, trying to look as seductive as possible.

I can’t help the growl that slips through my lips at her audacity, but Electra pats my arm and says through our bond, “Let’s hear what she has to say, Jabba.”

“Fine, but if I don’t like what passes through her lips, I’m going to kick her ass to the curb.” Queenie has no right to me whatsoever. She may think she’s the queen bee around here, but I have no issues proving to her how wrong she is.

“You’d do that when there’s a looming threat?” Electra asks.

“Possibly. It depends on what she says.” My job is to protect the inner sanctity of the club and she falls under my authority, the decision on who’s worn out their welcome and who hasn’t is primarily left up to me. It doesn’t even have to be taken to the table for consideration by the rest of the patched brothers.

“Electra, I want to apologize to you,” Queenie says, nervously twisting her hands as she shoots glances at me. My head tilts to the side as my wolf listens for the sincerity of her words. “Nothing happened between me and Jabba and hasn’t in a very long time. He’s… well, he’s not like that and maybe that’s why I was so jealous. I don’t really know, but I don’t have an excuse for my behavior.”

“I know he’s not like that,” Electra advises. “And I appreciate your apology, Queenie. But for the record, don’t forget I have my own powers and I’m not afraid to use them against anyone I deem to be a threat to myself or my mate.”

I watch as Queenie’s face blanches at my mate’s words and have to bite my lip so as not to smirk. While I’ll always protect her, she’s just shown that she’s more than capable of handling anything on her own. The good news is, I didn’t detect any deception in what Queenie said so as long as she doesn’t decide to stir up any shit with anyone else, she can stay. We have bigger fish to fry, even though we don’t know exactly what they are at this time.

“But I want to make something clear to you, Queenie,” Electra states, her tone serious and unforgiving. “I’m not temporary. I am Jabba’s mate, so I’m here to stay. I’m not a passing fancy for him, I’m a permanent fixture.”

Her words have my wolf howling with joy inside of my head. I’m feeling emotions I’ve never encountered before. In thanks, I pull my woman tighter to me and snuggle into her. She gently squeezes my arm since my feelings are pouring through our mating link; I don’t have to say anything out loud for her to understand the appreciation I have for the loyalty and declaration she’s shown.

And I definitely plan to show her when we’re behind closed doors, since it’s almost impossible for me to keep my hands to myself whenever she’s around.