Chapter Thirteen
Joanna
Like a candle snuffed of its flame, the desire I saw burning in Marcus’s amber eyes vanished in a mere second, sucking all the warmth from the room.
Goosebumps pickled my skin beneath my sleeves, and I knew I’d made the smart decision having some…
modesty? Could I even call it that? Yes, the top was see-through, but the shit my sister wanted me to wear would’ve had me practically naked.
And there would’ve been nothing between my flesh and the eyes of at least fifteen damn werewolves.
I fiddled with the brass cuff on my wrist, the irony not lost on me that the gem embedded in the jewelry—the thing dampening my power—would be responsible for my staying alive.
I inhaled slowly. I overcome negative thoughts and carry on.
Latoya pulled herself free from the arms of the large-ass werewolf who had the tip of a thick keloid peeking from his shirt’s collar. “I thought you were right behind me,” she said as she approached me.
“I had to lace up my boots. You know, the ones you begged to switch for my sneakers?”
“Sorry, sorry,” she whispered. “I’m too excited to show you off.
” To my surprise, her eyes softened. “I’ve dreamed of this moment for so long, Joey.
” Before I had time to process a response, Latoya dragged me deeper into the mansion.
“Silas,” she began, “this is my sister, Joey.” She pushed me forward.
Silas’s green eyes scanned my body from head to toe before doubling back up, his gaze lingering on my bra. “So, you’re the little sister she kept whining about for five years.”
Heat ran across my face. “You mean the five years I thought she was dead?” I asked, crossing my arms to block his view of my chest. “You must be the bastard who kept her from me.”
Marcus stiffened.
Latoya jabbed me in the back. “Be nice,” she warned.
Silas chuckled as he took a step toward me. “Sexy and brazen.” He looked up at Latoya. “I like her already.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce me… Toya?”
Latoya and I both whipped our heads in Marcus’s direction. Latoya’s eyes were wide, and her smile took up her entire face. “Not if it means I’ll be competing for your attention.”
Marcus ignored her, striding up to me and all but pushing Silas out of his way.
Damn, the man was sexy. His cream cable-knit sweater stretched nicely across his chest and paired well with his black jeans. He took my hand in his and shook it gently without breaking our eye contact.
“I’m Marcus. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said huskily.
We were lucky it wasn’t our attraction to one another that we had to hide, because from the moment he touched me, I grew wet between my legs, and I knew the werewolves smelled it.
I knew Marcus smelled it. He’d taken his time letting my hand drop from his.
I trust my body.
“Marcus is a newer friend, sis,” Latoya interrupted. “But the stick up his ass acts up from time to time. Let’s find the alcohol.”
I felt Marcus’s gaze still on me as Latoya pulled me to the kitchen.
Silas chortled and slapped Marcus on his back. “Taking my advice already?”
Latoya strode forward, clearly comfortable in the space we occupied, and I reminded myself that this house belonged to her alpha.
My breath hitched at the realization; I didn’t even know if she lived here with him.
She opened the doors of the massive fridge, the humming giant swallowing her head as she studied inside. “Here,” she said, shoving a bottle in my hand.
I looked down at the bottle and frowned. “Latoya, I don’t drink beer.”
“Oh.” She chuckled. “I thought you’d grow out of that shit by now.”
“What shit?”
“Being too good for a tall glass of ale,” she said in a country accent.
I shook my head, smiling at my sister for the first time in years. “If they made it taste good, I’d drink it.”
“Ugh.” Latoya threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “So blasphemous.” She pulled out a can of cola, raising it toward me with a tilt of her head. “Is this boring drink still your go-to?”
I nodded.
“Goddess, help her,” she mumbled, grabbing a rock glass from the top of the mountain of drinkware on the island. “There should be rum on that counter, behind you.” She continued to shift things around in the fridge while I wandered to the counter on the far side of the kitchen.
It didn’t take long for me to pick out the bottles of rum amongst the horde of alcohol, but as I read the labels to choose between gold, black, or spiced, I stared so hard at them that the letters danced.
Such a dizzying thought, but I was in more danger than I’d ever been—surrounded by werewolves who wanted exposure, not to cop a feel on the dance floor.
I’d known infiltrating Club Luna was risky as shit when I did it. And I’d gone in with no help, only a dagger hidden in my boot. But here… I’d traded in solitude and my dagger for two werewolves who swore they’d protect me… Yet I couldn’t shake the ominous cloud looming over my head.
“Toya?” The piercing squeal startled me, and I caught the bottle I almost dropped to the floor.
“Heather!” Latoya reciprocated the excitement.
I turned to see my sister and a tall blonde squeezing the hell out of each other.
“Girl, what’s up?” Heather pulled away and scanned my sister’s outfit. “Dayum, I see you.”
Latoya laughed, her head whipping toward me. “Joey, come meet the blackest white girl you’ll ever meet.”
Heather wore an off-shoulder sweater dress that only looked short because her sizeable ass stretched it to its limits. “I told you I don’t like that shit, Toya,” she huffed. “How the hell am I acting Black?”
Latoya smacked her on her behind. “I told you it’s a compliment, bitch.”
“I think my sister’s trying to say that you have swag?” I added with a chuckle, setting the bottle of rum on the island.
“No, damn it. She has rizz.” Heather broke out in laughter, forcing Latoya to speak over her. “You see that ass? She’s lucky I don’t like pussy.”
Heather poked Latoya in her side. “You buggin’.”
When her laughter tapered off, Heather held out her hand for me. “Joey, wow.” I hesitated, but not long enough for her to feel it. Heather’s smiling eyes flicked to my sister while we shook hands. “I’m happy for you, sis.”
My sister straightened, a proud grin taking over her face as she swiped the rum from the countertop.
“I feel like I know you,” Heather continued to me. “She talked about you all the time.”
“Heather and I only get to see each other at the parties,” Latoya clarified, taking a swig of rum straight from the bottle. “Her boss is a total dipshit.”
“My boss?” Heather repeated, raising a brow.
With a nod of her head, Latoya gestured toward me—the human.
“Oh,” Heather said once realization hit. She gasped, the magnitude of Latoya’s words also hitting. “Shut up!” she shrieked in a whisper. She shoved Latoya’s arm and caused my sister to choke on the alcohol. “You know he’s somewhere in this fucking house.”
Latoya burped without covering her mouth. “I do.”
Heather shoved her again, but the corners of her mouth rose. “Latoya, you play too much.”
Heather and Latoya continued their conversation, catching up after almost a full year apart. As I listened to them gossip, I swallowed hard, trying to coax my heartbeat down from my throat.
Heather had an alpha… Of course she did.
Because she was a werewolf. Laughing with my werewolf sister in a house full of werewolf rogues who didn’t care at all for non-werewolf, human life.
I kneaded my aching palm with my thumb.
“Joey, did you hear me?” My sister snapped her fingers. “Earth to Joanna,” she teased.
I blinked away the hatred burning in my eyes to see Latoya and Heather staring at me, both their eyebrows raised.
“Y’all seem close,” I whispered, already having my excuse prepared. “Everybody in this house probably knows you better than I do now, huh, Latoya?”
Latoya flinched.
“Well…” Heather’s gaze bounced between me and my sister. “I’ll leave and give—”
“What’s that?” I pointed to the baggy Latoya inched behind her leg.
But I knew what it was. On the way to the estate, Latoya insisted we stop at a warlock-owned dispensary. She was still persuasive as hell… or maybe I was desperate for something familiar, like being conned out of money by my big sister.
I had a dangerous profession and could die at any moment. Life was too short for stupid. So, no—Heather did not need to give me and Latoya a fucking moment alone. “Why are you hiding it? I’m not twelve.”
Latoya sighed. “I thought the three of us could take a hit. Heather’s boss doesn’t like her smoking, so we do it in the bathroom upstairs with the fan on… but maybe we shouldn’t.”
I waved her off with a performative smile. “Why? Because I seem a little sad? Latoya, go. I’ll be fine.”
She changed her footing. “Should I get Marcus—”
“No!” I exclaimed, louder than I would’ve liked. “No, thank you.”
Heather grinned. “Do you have a crush on him too? Damn it, I’d like to climb that tree.”
The placating smile remained on my face, but it vanished from my eyes. I blew out through my nose, fidgeting with the cuff around my wrist.
Do not take the bracelet off, Joanna.
Latoya cleared her throat, her worrisome gaze morphing into something resembling protection as she pulled Heather away.
I am brave. I am strong… I am perfectly capable of kicking Heather’s ass.
“You okay?”
I jumped, not realizing that Marcus had appeared in the archway of another entrance to the kitchen. He crossed his arms, but his face was indecipherable.
I nodded, dropping my gaze. “Thank you for asking. You can go now.”
His voice deepened. “Where’d your sister go?”
I shrugged. “She had to use the bathroom, Matthew.”
He chuckled, and I listened to his footsteps as he approached. “It’s Marcus. And you’re… Joey? Right?”
My breath caught, and my gaze flew up to his mocking grin. Hearing my name leave those lips made my damn toes curl. The warmth flooding my body banished the cold, but the hair on my arms still stood straight, as if they rose in prayer to God that I didn’t act crazy.