Chapter Sixteen
The dark swallowed them as Dagen sped down the street, keeping to the shadows. Four SUVs barreled around a corner, arrowing into the parking garage before coming to a screeching halt.
He jumped onto a fire escape and went up to the roof. He leaped from building to building, going down to street level only when necessary, putting as much distance as possible between them and Solange’s men. If anyone saw them, it would be as a flicker out of the corner of their eye. Possibly a light breeze as he went by. It was against the rules of his kind to risk exposing his preternatural powers to humans, but he didn’t care.
Galen would pull the team back since he hadn’t contacted them. The men would return to their rally point and await further instructions. This entire evening had turned into a shit show of massive proportions. Theo had come back from the dead. He had to give it to Solange, she played the long game. This wasn’t so much about bringing them in, although that would have been a bonus—this was about testing loyalties, his and Onyx’s.
They’d passed or failed, depending on your perspective. He could have allowed Theo to take her. When his wolf growled, he growled back. That had never been an option, and not only because he needed her skills. He needed her .
He clamped her closer to his chest, hating the way her silent tears soaked his shirt.
Damn Solange to hell and back. Because of her schemes, Onyx had been forced to choose between him and her brother. Typical of her, she’d tried to find a way to protect everyone, but that had never been an option. Because of her mother, she’d been forced to kill the man she viewed as her brother.
What kind of a monster did that? The kind that would stop at nothing to attain their goal. She’d birthed a child to use as a weapon, a pawn, and she’d kidnapped and twisted a wolf pup for her own ends. There were no depths to which she would not stoop.
Onyx hadn’t killed her brother, he had, but she wouldn’t see it that way. How was she going to fight a woman without scruples when her sense of right and wrong was unassailable? It would be a weakness against an opponent like Solange, who’d sacrificed human lives to keep herself alive long past when she should have died.
“I can walk. We should be far enough away by now.” Bowing to the inevitable, he halted on top of a five-story apartment building. He kept one arm around her waist until he was certain she was steady. Other than the tearstains on her face and the stricken expression in her eyes, she looked the same as she had earlier. The dress was a bit wrinkled and dirty, but she remained breathtakingly beautiful. Her lower lip trembled but she clamped her teeth down on it.
He honestly didn’t know what to say. His instinct was to pull her into his arms, but would she even want him to touch her after he’d killed her family? Carrying her out of there was different. That had been a necessity.
“We’re on a rooftop.” She straightened her clothes and adjusted the bag slung crosswise over her body.
“It was safer to go up,” he told her, anticipating her next question. The lights were beautiful from up here. Everywhere people were laughing and crying, living and dying. New York was an incredible city but an unforgiving one. They were all predators or prey on some level.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “I’m sorry. I messed up everything by going after Theo. Not only did I put your life in jeopardy, killing Theo will anger Solange. What I did in the garage will give her an indication of my magic. Basically, I screwed any advantage we might have had.”
“It’s not all on you.” He hovered beside her, wishing he could offer her physical comfort but fearing it would be rejected. “I could’ve incapacitated Theo, taken you, and run.”
“Not without my cooperation, and I’m not sure I would have given it.” Tilting her head back, she stared up into the night. Stars weren’t visible here like they were in the countryside, but the moon was almost full and beautiful hanging above the skyscrapers in the distance. “Thank you for coming for me.”
He swallowed back his reply that he’d always come for her. “We’re a team.”
Her sad laugh made his stomach cramp. “I suppose we are. It’s almost like marriage, for better or worse, ’til death do us part.”
Hearing her speak of marriage had his cock stirring to life. That pissed him off. Their attraction was manufactured by blood and magic. There was no way to know if it was real. Not until they were free. Right? Only it was getting harder and harder to believe.
“No one is—” Scratch that. “No one else is dying.” He fisted his hands at his sides, squeezing them until they hurt. It was the only way to keep from touching her.
“Someone will die before this is done. Likely many people. It’s all so unnecessary.” She rubbed her hand over her head. “I’m sorry, I’m tired.”
Shit, in his laser-focused bid to save her life and get her to safety, the fact she’d been Tasered and in an accident had taken a back seat. “Are you hurt?” He caught her chin in his hand and scowled at the dried blood on her forehead.
She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “I’m fine. I had a concussion but I drew on my magic to heal myself. I figured since Theo had taken me, it didn’t matter. Solange already knew where I was, or soon would.”
“It was worth it.” He licked his thumb and rubbed at the stain on her skin. “I’m sorry about Theo.” He wouldn’t apologize for what he’d done. It was what the wolf had wanted. Even if it hadn’t been, there was no way Dagen would have left a threat to her alive. She might see the best in people. He was more a realist. An enemy left alive is one who’d try to kill you on another day.
“I can’t seem to stop shaking.”
“It’s the adrenaline.” Taking the chance he might be rebuffed, he drew her against him. Sighing, she burrowed against him.
“You’re always so warm.” It was an accusation rather than a compliment. It was a sign of spirit that made him smile.
“Werewolf metabolism runs hot.” He smoothed back the flyaway strands that had escaped from her braid.
“It’s not fair. I’m always cold.”
“Let me warm you.” He bit back the word “forever.” All they had was now. Their circumstances could change anytime. He brushed his lips over hers, keeping the pressure light.
He should stop. With adrenaline and emotions running hot, after witnessing death, it was natural to want to reaffirm life. And there was no better way than physical touch. Cursing himself for his weakness, he started to pull away, but she made a small sound of passion and followed, pressing her mouth harder against his.
“Onyx.”
“I know we can’t stay here.” Her words were little more than a whisper and a puff of breath against his face. “But I need this. Give me this moment.”
That this fiercely independent woman was asking him for something made his chest expand and his heart pound. He could no more deny her than he could stop the sun from rising in the morning. “Whatever you need.”
Holding her close against the chill of the evening, he brushed the backs of his fingers against her cheek. Her skin was pale and cool, but her eyes held a warmth that had his dick standing at attention.
Not the time or place , but his blood was running hot from the fight and flight across the rooftops of the city. When it came down to it, he was as much animal as man, maybe more of the former. He had the primal urge to mark her as a warning to other wolves.
He gripped her braid and lightly tugged, tipping her head back. Her eyes were still red and luminous from her tears. The sight of her distress caused him to hesitate. She clamped her hand around his nape and dragged his head down, capturing his lips with hers.
He kissed her back, offering her whatever she needed. Yeah, he was a real giver. He needed it as much as she did, maybe more.
She tasted sweet and offered a glimpse of heaven. He released his hold on her hair, smoothing his hand down her back. This desire to be gentle was a new one. Not that he’d ever been rough with past lovers, but with her, he wanted to linger, to cherish, to give in to the softer emotions he’d always denied.
No good can come of this.
The warning faded when her tongue slid against his, their breath mingling. He hadn’t had many sexual partners in his life. The need for secrecy, coupled with his dislike of one-night stands that left him sexually sated but emotionally unfulfilled, had led him to pull back from even that minor intimacy. It was easier to avoid them altogether. Everything was different with Onyx.
Icy talons of fear dug into his stomach. The image of Theo running off with her limp form would give him nightmares.
“Stop thinking.” Her lips feathered along his jawline.
“I can’t.” For better or worse, he’d handed Solange a weakness to exploit. Case in point, he was standing here like an idiot rather than getting them to safety. Their enemies were out there scouring the streets.
“You’re right. I shouldn’t have delayed. They’re looking for us, aren’t they?”
“Yes.” There was an access door to the roof. It was locked, but he gave a hard yank. Wood splintered and metal groaned, but both yielded to his strength. Holding it open, he motioned her forward. “Let’s go home.” It was a slip of the tongue but no less the truth. It had always been a place to live until he’d brought her there. No matter what happened, her presence would permeate the place forever.
…
What had she been thinking? It was stupid to stand on a rooftop kissing Dagen when they had enemies on their trail. There was no excuse. No rational one, at any rate.
Theo was dead. The finality of it made her stumble. Dagen gripped her arm to steady her but kept going down the stairs. She’d thought him dead all these years, had come to grips with the injustice of it, dealt with the guilt and pain. “I left him to die.”
Dagen stopped and faced her. “It’s not your fault. There was no way you could have known.”
Damn it, she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Not wanting to discuss it, she put her head down and pushed past him, gripping the handrail for support. Swearing under his breath, he eased ahead, leaving her to stare at his back. It was for the best. Nothing he could say would alleviate her guilt or sorrow. There was no going back in time to change events. Her only recourse was to make Solange pay for all the pain and suffering she’d caused. Grief could be debilitating. It could also be motivating. She’d used it once before and would again.
When they reached the street, Dagen pulled out a phone and made a short call. Long minutes passed. She felt like a sitting duck waiting for the hunters to take a shot. Every person who passed them was suspect, and every vehicle was a possible danger. She pulled on her magic but didn’t release it. That could potentially alert Solange to their location, if she was in the area. While Onyx doubted she’d do her own dirty work, it paid to be smart.
Unlike her, Dagen seemed supremely relaxed. Arms loose at his sides, he stood in the shadows. He was so still it’d be impossible for a normal person to detect him. It was the stillness of a hunter.
It illustrated the vast differences in their lives. Caution was her motto. She was proficient at hiding, not making waves. He went on the offensive, always the hunter, never the prey. Time to take a page from his book. She’d worked and trained for this her entire life, sacrificed everything to gain the knowledge and power necessary to free the lone wolves, to free Dagen…and herself.
Two dark SUVs slowed, double-parking in front of them. She gripped the wolf pendant around her neck, fighting her instinct to run and hide to avoid detection. “Dagen?”
“They’re with me.” The driver’s side of the lead vehicle opened and a rough-looking male stepped out. Without so much as a glance in their direction, he walked back to the second car and climbed in the passenger side. When they pulled away, Dagen motioned her forward. “Let’s go.”
She didn’t exactly run, but it was close. She took her first easy breath in hours when he slid into the driver’s seat and pulled away. “How many people work for you?” She couldn’t imagine calling for assistance and expecting it to be provided at such short notice. It made things easier while impressing on her the differences in their lives.
“Enough. How you holding up?” He glanced in her direction and then back at the road, his big hands gripping the wheel.
Those same hands had fought and killed to protect her. They’d also tenderly comforted her. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t fall apart again. I apologize for what happened on the roof. It was self-indulgent and potentially dangerous. You have to be questioning our partnership. I promise to be more professional. I’ll uphold my end of the bargain.” He had to be thinking he’d be better off dumping her somewhere and continuing on his own.
His silence was a death knell. Her mouth went dry and she cleared her throat. She had to convince him it was in his best interest for them to work together. “I won’t make the same mistake again.” Slip-ups could be deadly. He could have been captured or killed because of her thoughtless actions. She’d reacted emotionally rather than being guided by reason. Under most circumstances, it would be forgivable, but this was life and death. Which reminded her… “Ah, what happened to the wolves that attacked in the alley?” When the electrical charge in the Taser had slammed into her magic, it had created a power surge, causing her to black out for a short time.
“Dead.” The finality of it left a cold lump in the pit of her stomach. Casualties were a part of war, but that didn’t make it any easier. She’d suspected as much considering how quickly he’d tracked her down.
Her head began to throb. “I’m sorry.” There were only so many ways she could apologize for her actions. Because of them, he’d had to kill four men.
He shrugged. “They made their choices. We all do.” His cold, pragmatic attitude sent a shiver down her spine. Would he view her end so casually?
Tilting her head back, she stared blindly out the window, not really seeing the people crowding the sidewalk. They lived in a world she could only dream about—a place where they had families, mortgages, dinner with friends, movie dates, and walks in the park. She hadn’t chosen the circumstances of her birth, but they defined her and always would.
“My choice”—she deliberately used the same word he had—“is to use the knowledge I’ve acquired from my studies and Annalisa’s journal, along with my magic, to help you destroy Solange.”
The foot and road traffic grew lighter as he maneuvered through the streets. The warehouse came into view. Home, he’d called it. His, not hers. It was heartening he hadn’t dumped her on a street corner. Or maybe not. Maybe he wanted to yell at her in private. He’d likely brought her with him because he needed her skills in the coming fight. The only other person as knowledgeable as her was his sworn enemy.
He climbed out and waited in front of the vehicle, cocking one eyebrow in question. She shoved open the door and started to slam it shut, but controlled her temper. The last thing she wanted to do was draw attention to them.
After engaging the locks, he turned on his heel and stalked toward the entrance. “Back to the Wolfcave,” she muttered. There was a hitch in his step but he kept going. Or maybe she’d imagined it. Once inside with the metal bars engaged, they went through the same routine as before—retinal scanner, stairs, another scanner. He paused outside the final door.
“Wolfcave?”
God, she’d hoped he’d missed that comment. Not likely with that super hearing of his. “It’s like the Batcave, you know, Batman. Only you’re a super wolf, so it’s the Wolfcave. Ignore me.” She rubbed her hand over her face. “It’s been a long night.”
With a grunt that could mean anything from agreement to “you’re out of your mind,” he punched the code into the keypad and opened the door. It seemed like a lifetime ago that they’d left rather than hours. It looked the same, but it was all so surreal, so normal after everything that had occurred.
The heavy thud of the door closing jolted her. Her skin grew clammy. She was locked in until he decided to release her. You’ve gotten through worse. The reminder did little to calm the jitters in her stomach.
Carefully, she set her bag down on the sofa and turned to face him. “Let’s get this over with.”
He canted his head to one side. “Get what over with?”
“The yelling, the lecture, the recriminations.” She threw her hands in the air. “Whatever it is you held in on the trip here.”
One corner of his mouth twitched.
“You find that amusing?” She refrained from stamping her foot in frustration and poking him in the chest. The restraint was admirable. No one pushed her buttons like he did.
“Is that what’s had you worried?”
“What else?” Crossing her arms, she tapped her foot on the ground. It wasn’t smart to challenge him. A part of her understood that. Another part didn’t care. She recognized her volatile emotions were a reaction to the evening, but that didn’t rein her in. “Let me have it. I can take it.”
He prowled toward her. “You can, can you?”
It was too late for caution, even if she wanted to back down, which she didn’t. She was raring for a fight. Arguing was better than dealing with the pain in her heart, the despair waiting to swamp her. “I can take anything you dish out.”
She let her hands hang loose by her sides and drew up her magic, allowing a sliver of it to seep out.
His nostrils flared and his lips parted. “I damn well hope so.” Scooping an arm around her waist, he dragged her against him and kissed her.