Chapter 27 For a Favor
Zane
The morning air was crisp, the kind of chill that nips at your nose and makes you wish you’d grabbed a jacket.
I didn’t have time to because Brumous demanded I take him out immediately, and now he was running like he was auditioning for the Iditarod.
He was all energy this morning, his oversized paws kicking up dew from the grass as he zigzagged across the lawn.
I let him go, my fingers drumming absently against my thigh.
My mind was elsewhere. On Seri, on her bruises, on the way she winced when she thought we weren’t looking. None of us could stand it. Not Casimir with his med kit, not Koa with his worry, and definitely not me with my inability to fix things with sarcasm alone.
So we’d brainstormed ideas, everything from buying a potion from a local coven to calling Lucian to see what he had in stock, but none of us trusted a potion we hadn’t seen made and we weren’t about to call our father if we didn’t have to.
That left two allies with healing abilities.
Our first choice, a nephilim, was out of the country, chasing some big evil with her team, but our second choice was available and on his way.
I glanced toward the driveway. Angelo della Morte should be here soon.
Last night’s call had been short and to the point.
Angelo didn’t do small talk, and neither did we.
We needed his help, and he’d agreed without hesitation.
He didn’t make promises lightly, and when he did, he kept them.
It was one of the things I respected most about him, and one of the reasons why we trusted him.
Well, that and the fact that he’d once taken down a nest of rogue vamps with nothing but a pair of blessed throwing knives, a bottle of holy water, and a bad attitude.
We’d met Angelo and his mate, Emerson, three years ago when the vampire king at the time, Isaac Black, put out the call for any and all fangs to help take down a prince of Hell.
Only nineteen, we’d already carved our name in blood across the hunter world and saw it as a chance to drop a business card with the nephilim that were participating.
Turned out to be one hell of a party involving djinn and fiends, peris and divs, wolves and a whole moon-damned archangel.
One of the best fights of my life.
Afterwards, the nephs hosted a celebration, and we stuck around, Cas to network and sniff around for more jobs, Koa to suck down knowledge of races we’d never met before, and me for the free food. I ended up hanging out with Angelo and his shifter buds, hit it off, and had been allies ever since.
“Easy, Brummy,” I muttered as the pup lunged after a squirrel. “You’re supposed to be her guard wolf, not a glorified hunting dog.”
He ignored me, of course, and I smirked.
Stubborn furball.
But he was ours now, and we’d all gotten weirdly attached to him. Even Casimir, who’d deny it if asked.
Then Brumous suddenly stopped in his tracks, his ears up and his eyes locked on something. I followed his gaze and saw a big gray SUV rolling up the drive.
“Relax, Floofster.” I scratched behind his ears in that place he liked. “Allies. Not food.”
He didn’t relax, but he didn’t go into panic mode, either.
Progress.
“Go fetch Cas and Ko, okay?” I looked into his eyes, and he took off for the back door like a shot. We were communicating better and better since the telepathy thing, which I took as a good sign.
The SUV came to a stop, and Emerson del Vecchio stepped out first, all six-foot-six of him unfolding from the driver’s seat like a mountain deciding to take a stroll. His shadow alone could’ve shaded a small village.
While glad to see him, I knew something was up. Emerson didn’t leave Luna Posy Everleigh’s side.
Ever.
“Escaped luna babysitting detail?” I called as I approached. “Thought you only left Five Fangs for apocalypses.”
Angelo della Morte emerged behind him. The Angel of Death looked like he always did: As if he’d just walked off the set of an action movie, a blade-straight silhouette in a leather jacket that probably had more knives sewn into it than fabric, his blond hair catching the sunlight.
“You’re the apocalypse, Zane,” he said, his Italian accent softening the edges of his voice.
“Good to see you, man.” I shook his hand. “Didn’t expect you to tag along, Emerson.”
“Luna’s on bedrest.” He shrugged. “Triplets. Her alphas are hovering like mother hens. I got bored. Figured I’d keep Angelo company.”
“Demoted to passenger princess, huh?”
“Something like that,” he said, his deep voice dry as toast.
“So.” I clapped my hands together. “You ready to work some magic?”
“Always.” Angelo inclined his head.
I led them out to the patio, where the first blooms of wisteria hung heavy from the pergola, their sweet scent mingling with the earthy aroma of the woods surrounding Evermere.
“Make yourselves at home.” I gestured to the sturdy wrought-iron chairs arranged around a low table. “We don’t bite. Well, not unless asked.”
Angelo rolled his eyes, but Emerson smirked. Casimir and Koa came out of the house, then, Ko twirling a dagger like it was a fidget toy and Cas’ expression was as blank as his white henley.
“Thanks for coming,” Cas said.
“We owe you one.” Koa leaned against the pergola’s post. “Assuming you don’t screw this up.”
Then Brumous trotted out to join us, flopping on the ground near my feet and rolling over, his yawn showing every one of his mouth razors.
“That is a dire wolf.” Angelo’s gray-green eyes locked on the pup as his hands drifted toward the guns holstered at his waist.
“Observant.” I leaned down and gave Brumous the belly rub he was angling for. “What gave it away? The size of his claws or all the teeth?”
“What happened to him?” Emerson tensed as he studied Brumous.
“Ever hear of Arabesque Harrow?” Koa asked, and Brummy raised his head, his ears back and his nose wrinkling in a snarl.
Angelo’s spate of Italian, complete with violent hand gestures, was answer enough.
“Yeah, she experimented on him. Tortured him, starved him, messed with his mind,” I explained. “Been piecing together bits of his memories through telepathy. It’s not pretty. Oh, and call her Harrow bitch. Her name turns my good little murder floof into just murderous.”
“He’s suffering,” Angelo murmured.
“Physically?” Cas jumped in, his eyebrows raising in alarm. “I examined him and didn’t find any broken bones or—”
“He’s far too thin, but no injuries,” Angelo explained. “His mind, however… Well, he’s no longer whole. Mercy might be kinder.”
“Not an option,” Ko decreed. “He’s ‘ohana now.”
“Although this one is unusually small, dires grow larger than alpha wolves.” Emerson’s gaze softened, but anger still simmered beneath the surface. “You realize that, right?”
“We’re aware,” I drawled, leaning back in my chair. “But Brumous has already proven himself. He’s earned his place here with us and our beloved.”
Angelo looked like he wanted to argue, but Emerson caught his eye, shaking his head slightly. The unspoken conversation between them was fascinating, like watching two predators decide whether to pounce or retreat.
“Wait.” Then Emerson’s brown eyes narrowed. “Did you say our beloved? All three of you found your beloveds?”
Casimir went statue-still. Koa’s grin dimmed to something tender, vulnerable.
“Yeah.” I raised my left hand and twisted it so my golden ring caught the light. “All three of us. One woman. Can’t believe I lost the legal husband title. I should’ve insisted on Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide.”
“That’s what you get for wearing lace and ruffles,” purred Koa, smugly polishing his wedding band with the hem of his t-shirt.
“We still need to replace the photographer’s bag,” Cas deadpanned, running his thumb over his own ring.
“Can’t wait to meet the girl.” Emerson grinned. “Should I warn her about your weapons collection?”
“Says the man married to a walking armory.” I nodded at Angelo. “How many weapons you got on you right now? Fifteen? Twenty?”
“Twenty-two,” he said without missing a beat.
“Well, congratulations, boys,” Emerson’s chuckle was warm and genuine. “Welcome to family life.”
“We’re loving it so far.” I gave them my best smile. “Too bad you missed the wedding yesterday. It was epic.”
“Wish we could’ve been there, but we’ve been neck-deep in a job at Lake Champlain.” Emerson shrugged. “King Julian called us a few days ago, telling us to come to the palace as soon as we wrapped that up, so you’re lucky Evermere is practically on the way to Ohio, or we wouldn’t be here even now.”
“Practically on the way. Sure, let’s go with that.” I leaned back in my chair, drumming my fingers on the armrest. “What’s the wolf king want from you this time?”
“Don’t know. He just said it’s very important.”
“Then I’ll make a long story short. We arrived at Evermere expecting to find our arranged bride.
Instead, we found our beloved beaten, bruised, and barely conscious.
Turns out, her lovely stepmonster, the Harrow bitch, ordered her daughters to attack our beloved.
Oh, and bitch slapped some kind of spell on our girl so she couldn’t spill the tea on any evil schemes. ”
“A whisperbind, maybe?” Angelo’s eyes narrowed, his Italian accent sharpening as he muttered under his breath. “That’s very expensive magic. What is the Harrow bitch hiding now, I wonder?”
“We know she’s working with a rogue werewolf who we’re fairly sure she ordered to attack our beloved,” Ko explained.
“Our girl can’t tell us, but Brumous showed me his face.” I tapped my temple, smirking despite the frustration bubbling under my skin. “Big, rough with a voice like gravel and a personality to match. He’s got this gnarly white scar across his throat, like he survived a hanging.”
“Show me,” Angelo demanded, so I zipped Brumous’ memory through the mental airwaves, and his hands instantly curled into fists. “Cazzo! I knew it! Chains. Also known as Claudio Kane.”