Chapter 12 – JAX
JAX
Marching down the hallway in the packhouse, I catch a glimpse of my reflection and stop dead in my tracks.
She cut me.
Moving closer to the massive rectangular mirror that hangs on one side, over an expensive antique side table, I tilt my head back to see the tiny nick her knife left in my skin. It’s already healing, but the solitary line of blood that’s run down my neck and into the top of my T-shirt, remains.
I smile, reluctant to wash it out. For some reason, my wolf is proud of her for putting me in my place. I deserved it. Every word she said was spot on. At that moment, I cared more about myself than about how my behaviour was affecting her.
And that’s not what mates do.
Fuck.
Ignoring the concerned looks I’m getting from passersby, I lick my thumb and reluctantly wipe away the proof of her passionate spirit. Most people would think their mate threatening to cut their balls off was a bad thing.
Me? I think it shows that she cares.
“What happened to you?”
I don’t jump, though Dean’s voice does catch me off guard. I grunt, continuing to wipe at the blood.
He leans against the wall beside me, arms crossed, taking in the traces of crimson with raised eyebrows.
“Nothing,” I mutter. “Just trying not to scare our guests.”
“Right.” He shakes his head, about to launch into a lecture, when his nostrils flare slightly, and his forehead creases into a frown. “You smell like Camille, but...”
He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I know who and what he scents all over me. Her sweet arousal clings to my clothes and my skin, driving my wolf into a frenzy, even through the regret I feel over how I handled things.
The memory of her body pressed against mine, her lips parting under my kiss before she… Her knife flashes through my mind. Even her weapons are pretty. This girl is perfect.
“Is Camille giving you a hard time?” Dean asks carefully, eyeing the way I’m standing, which is awkward, as I try to hide the raging hard-on I can’t seem to get rid of.
“You could say that.”
He opens his mouth, curiosity shining in his eyes, clearly wanting to ask more, then seems to think better of it. “I don’t think I want to know.”
But he does. I know he does, because I would.
His gaze travels to the faint red line on my chin, neat and precise, and not caused by a branch or a fall. To his credit, he doesn’t laugh. Much.
A smile tugs at his lips despite his attempt at sympathy. “What the fuck did you do to her?”
Not enjoying being a source of entertainment for my big brother, I glare at him. “What makes you think I did something?”
He tilts his head, twisting his lips into a crooked grin, as if to say, do you really need to ask?
“Maybe because she tried to slice your head off.”
I turn away from the mirror, happy to see the tiny red mark remains even after the blood is gone. “She didn’t try to slice my head off, this was more of a playful warning.” I sigh. “And she may have had good cause.”
Dean nods and pushes off the wall, tipping his head toward the large communal kitchen.
I follow, not wanting to have this conversation, but also thinking maybe Dean can offer me some wisdom.
He managed to stay away from his mate for much longer than this.
Granted, he didn’t know she was his, but maybe he has some tips.
“I’m sure she did.” Dean moves to the coffee maker and pours two cups. “Want to talk about it?”
Scoffing, I scowl at him. “No.”
Yes.
“Tough.” He rests his palms on the counter and looks up at me with dark eyes that are shadowed by exhaustion. “If something’s going on with you two, and it’s affecting the investigation, I need to know.”
I hesitate. I was about to tell Dean that she’s my mate, but what if he has her removed from the investigation? My wolf isn’t happy about that possibility, so I choose to head Dean’s concerns off at the pass.
“It won’t… She’s already found something; she was coming to speak to you when she… eh… calmed down.”
A commotion outside cuts me off. Shouts and running feet, the kind of chaos that can only mean trouble. Dean’s head snaps toward the window, body tensing as his eyes cloud over, a mind link coming through.
“That was Callum,” he mutters, already moving toward the door. “There’s been an incident. Let’s go.”
I follow, my wolf panicking, frantic that it might be Camille. Where is she? We should never have let her leave alone. If Kain knows who she is, and what she’s here for, so might others.
Find her.
The shouting gets louder as we exit the house at a jog, and I search for hers through the familiar scents on the night air. That's all that matters. But all I get is a jumble of pack members and competitors, and underneath it all, the bitter stench of fear.
“Over here,” someone shouts from the direction of the training grounds. “We need help.”
We break into a run, cutting a swath through the gathering crowds. The training grounds come into view, lit by floodlights that cast harsh shadows across the hard ground. In the centre, surrounded by a circle of people, someone’s down.
Even from here, I can smell the wrongness, that oily taint of dark magic mixed with the copper scent of blood. Next to his head, a small pool of red slowly spreads.
“Move!” Dean shouts, and the crowd parts, clearing a path to let us through.
It’s one of the remaining competitors, a wolf from the northern territories who’s been doing well in the challenges. He’s convulsing on the ground, eyes rolled back, and foam tinged pink with blood bubbling from his mouth.
Eli already kneels beside him, trying to hold him steady, fingers in his mouth to stop him from swallowing his tongue.
“He just collapsed,” Kain says, voice tight with concern. “One second he was fine, doing cool-down stretches, and then… he said something about feeling dizzy, then he keeled over.”
I drop to my knees beside the fallen wolf, my hands moving over him automatically, checking vitals and looking for obvious injuries, but I already know what I’ll find. The magical signature clings to him like a second skin, stronger than anything we’ve detected so far.
“Both of you need to leave.” Eli and Kain look at each other, then back to me. “I’ll explain later, but for now, you need to go and shower. I have plenty of help here, and I don’t need you two getting sick as well. Please.”
Both men nod and leave together, heads tipped in hushed conversation.
“We need to strip him, wash whatever this is off his skin,” I tell Dean. “Now.”
I yank some gloves from my pocket and put them on, trying to make sure I don’t also get affected. I’ll be no help lying on the ground beside him.
Dean’s already mind linking his team and barking orders at those standing around us.
“Get back,” I shout as the crowd presses closer, voices rising in fear and speculation.
Dean lets out a warning growl, which they finally heed, gradually inching backward to give us more room.
“You heard the man. They need more space.” Callum steps in front of us and spreads his arms, using his sheer size to force them back even further.
“Let me help.” Pushing through from the edge of the crowd, is Camille.
Our eyes meet, and despite the chaos, time seems to slow. I try to convey something with my eyes, my remorse, a plea… I don’t even know what.
She’s changed clothes, washing away any trace of our encounter, before she went to see Dean, and shame hits fresh at my behaviour. I want to speak to her to apologise properly, but now is not the time.
“No, you can’t be here. You’ll get sick.” My wolf surges forward, demanding she leave, that she get as far away as possible from whatever this is that’s hurting people. I’m already starting to feel woozy just from being this close.
She shakes her head and gently fingers the necklace she wears, which glows faintly in the dusk. “It doesn’t block it altogether, but it helps.”
Not happy about it, I nod. She knows what she’s doing. I have to trust her. So, I force my attention back to the convulsing wolf, pushing everything else aside.
“Jax.” Maggie appears at my side, medical kit in hand. “What’ve we got?” She reels back. “Woah. Oh, that’s not good.”
Flapping her hands at the air around us, she grimaces. I guess I’m not the only healer who can detect it.
“Dark magic. Similar to the others, only more concentrated this time.”
She nods, already pulling out supplies. We work in tandem, endless hours of practice making words unnecessary, while Camille helps get him into the recovery position.
“He’s stable,” Maggie announces. “But we need to move him to the clinic.”
Lynn arrives with a golf cart, and we start to lift him carefully into the back. Dean attempts to climb on, but I shoo him away. “No. Don’t get exposed.”
He narrows his eyes, and I point to Camille, who’s picking up an open bottle of water from the ground beside the lockers, and poking through the clothing hanging on hooks along the side.
“She’ll explain.”
As I slide onto the seat beside the injured wolf, gripping the edge hard as stars dance in front of my eyes, Dean appears at my elbow, steadying me with a hand I pretend not to need. “You sure you’re okay?”
Maggie hops into the seat beside her, tucking her kit between her legs before she turns to help me hold the wolf steady. Straightening my shoulders and shaking my head to clear the fog, I tap the side, letting Lynn know we’re ready to go whenever she is.
“Fine,” I lie, frustration building inside me that someone would be so brazen as to do this in a busy training ground, and we still can’t catch them.
His eyes say he doesn’t believe me, but there are bigger concerns right now.
“Dean, I mean it, get out of here before you start to feel it too. Get someone to hose the entire place down once Camille has finished collecting evidence.”
Dean nods, anger bubbling beneath his composed exterior. “They’re getting bolder. And it’s pissing me off.”
I nod.
Behind Dean, Camille talks to Callum, expression serious as she lists off what she needs. “Pull the gate logs and any camera footage on the training grounds from the last ninety minutes. Find out where these bottles came from and swab the hooks.”
Callum tips his head in acknowledgement and hurries away, pulling one of the younger wolves from our pack with him.
“Find me after you get him settled,” Dean orders. “All training is on lock down for now. Senior members of our pack and contestants only.”
I nod again as Lynn pulls away.
The crowd and the training ground begin to disperse, and through the thinning bodies, I catch one more glimpse of Camille.
She’s examining the spot where the wolf fell, with a focused look on her face that means she’s found something.
As she leans forward to pick up whatever she’s spotted, I notice a faint glow from her inside pocket.
That knife.
My wolf wants to go to her, to protect her, but Kain’s right. She’s well able to take care of herself.
And maybe, with all the baggage I bring, it’s best for everyone if I just leave her alone.