Chapter 28 Dakota
Dakota
Jax slept for too long that night, crashing and sleeping through dinner, then straight through the night as well, as though being asleep for days had somehow been exhausting for him.
Me? I was obsessing over how the poisoning had happened to begin with.
Kent had always rubbed me the wrong way, and his near escape was just . . . very convenient, since he’d ingested a drug that was literally supposed to leave him asleep for almost two months. The notion of him not ingesting enough of it just wasn’t sitting right with me.
I didn’t have time to address that right away, though, because when Jax woke up again, he woke up mad, and by the time I got back to where he was thumping around in our bedroom, he was half dressed already, growling to himself as he buttoned his shirt.
“Jax? What are you doing?” I asked, just as he hissed in frustration and pulled his hands away from his shirt.
He’d grown claws. He was so angry he couldn’t seem to control them, as he was staring at his hands with narrowed eyes, like they were betraying him in the moment. Also, he didn’t answer me.
I came to stand in front of him, taking his hands in mine. “Jax.”
He looked up at me and huffed. “I’m going to see Grant.”
That . . . was basically the last thing in the world that I wanted. But also? That was silly. Jax had started the fight with Grant already, and he’d not only been winning, he’d been plain old dominant. Grant hadn’t had a hope against him.
It was why they had burned our house down, and why they had followed up with trying to poison Jax.
Why they had started this bullshit with the plan to challenge me.
Grant was literally doing every possible thing to take over the pack without having to actually fight Jax, because he knew he had no chance of winning that fight.
“Why are you going there?” I asked, trying to retain the calm that came from that knowledge. Grant couldn’t beat Jax in a fair fight. He probably couldn’t beat Jax in a fight if he had a weapon and Jax had one arm tied behind his back.
His only hope was cheating.
Jax scowled at me, then back at his buttons. “He’s hurting the pack. My pack. My people. It’s one thing when he poisons me, but burning the house down? Poisoning other pack members? It can’t be allowed to continue for another three weeks until the full moon.”
It was a fair concern. Who knew how much more damage the asshole could do in three weeks.
So I went over to the dresser in the room and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “Put these on,” I said, tossing them to him. “You won’t rip them turning.”
He sighed but took off the button-down and accepted the easier clothes. Going through the motions of actually dressing seemed to calm him, and by the time he was putting his shoes on, his claws were well under control.
We walked instead of having Charles drive us, and the walk was helpful, if also an unfortunate reminder that the building the Wildwood pack was staying the month in was far too close to us for comfort.
I wondered how they were even doing it, honestly. Were they borrowing it? Squatting? If they couldn’t afford the taxes on their own land in Idaho, they definitely couldn’t afford a month of rent in San Francisco, much less in our neighborhood.
Or was there money, and they just weren’t using it for sensible things?
Jax didn’t even pause when we got there, just marched right up the stairs and banged on the door rather than ringing the convenient bell.
Aleks was the one who answered the door, looking more curious than angry at the intrusion, and then even more curious at the rumpled look of Jax. “Are you well?”
Jax’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly making presumptions based more on his anger than reality.
“We’re going to need to see Grant,” I explained. “He’s tried another stunt to take Jax out of the equation.”
Aleks’s eyes narrowed, but not a single word came out of him to defend his alpha. No, he looked annoyed instead. “Was anyone else hurt this time?”
“No,” I said.
At the same time, Jax answered through gritted teeth, “Yes. One of my pack was also poisoned.”
I made a face at Jax. “Barely. He was fine. He wasn’t even unconscious for half an hour.”
“It doesn’t matter,” he shot back. “They tried to poison me, and poisoned Kent as well. It has to stop.”
There was a slight narrowing of Aleks’s eyes at the words, but he didn’t seem offended at all. At least, not by Jax’s anger.
“Poison is no way to win pack war,” he said instead.
Another man came up behind him, stone-faced and almost as big as he was.
What the hell were they eating in Idaho?
I didn’t know potatoes grew them like that.
Unlike Aleks, or anyone else I knew, this man’s English was flawless when he spoke.
“Poison is an easy way to win a pack war. It’s good for cowards and children. ”
Children? Why would children ever—
Aleks looked slightly pained by the comment, but he didn’t disagree, just turned to the other man, murmuring something quiet in what I assumed was Russian.
The man looked up at us and then nodded. “I am sorry for the difficulties we’ve brought upon you. The whole pack is sorry. We would like to return home as much as you wish we would.”
Huh.
Then he turned around and disappeared back into the house.
A few seconds later, a very hesitant looking Grant appeared in the hallway. He didn’t come to the door, just stood there, ten feet away, frowning. “You’re not supposed to be here. Have you come to intimidate me? Interrupt my time of mourning for a beloved pack member?”
“We haven’t come to interrupt your sadness over your dead child trafficker,” Jax said with a disgusted scoff.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, focusing on one of the early spells Prudence had taught me. “We’ve come because someone used the coward’s poison on Jax. So we’re looking for a coward.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed at that, and right in front of us, Aleks’s lips tightened in . . . an aborted smile.
“Is that a specific kind of poison?” Aleks asked, the question not catching in my spell. “I have never heard of it.” Those words, an actual declaration, caught in the web of my spell and glowed white to my sight. The truth.
“Well, that’s what my people call it,” I hedged, since I had no idea what else it might be called. “I couldn’t say what they’d call it here. It’s made of crystallized dreamroot.”
Aleks’s face still showed nothing but mild interest and maybe confusion, but Grant? Well, he sure as hell knew what we were talking about.
“I haven’t poisoned anyone,” he said, and the words came out and trapped themselves in my spell. Also white.
Because, of course, he hadn’t poisoned anyone. Even if he’d personally planted the poison, he hadn’t brewed the coffee. Hadn’t handed it to Jax.
“Do you know anything about who did?” I asked.
He whipped his head around to stare at me, sharp eyes missing nothing as he sniffed the air.
Could we smell magic? I’d never thought about it, but I supposed it would smell like background noise to me even if I could.
“It’s insulting that you’d even ask,” he sneered.
White glow again, because it was insulting, but I didn’t especially care about insulting the asshole.
“This is the second time my pack has been attacked surrounding this challenge of yours,” Jax told him, his eyes once again narrowed in anger.
“If it happens again, Grant, pack law be damned, challenge be damned, I will know it’s your fault.
And I will come here and end you, once and for all.
” Pure white glow accompanied the words.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Grant answered, and if I’d ever been worried that the spell had failed, there was the proof of its success, because the words glowed green as he spoke.
A lie.
I snorted, and half turned, already ready to leave. “Yeah. Keep telling yourself that. Maybe someday you’ll believe it. Hopefully before you make Jax rip your throat out by attacking us again.”