Twilight Hunter

“Lift your arms,” Robert said, positioning Allsun under the contraption. She lifted her arms like the perfect victim, threatened enough by Robert’s knife to listen, but not scared to the point of immobility.

He clamped the wide cuffs around her wrists, and she cringed at their touch.

More iron, Frankie realized.

Shaking the bars of the cage, she tried to think of anything she could do to help her friend. As near as she could tell, she was out of options. It took everything she had in her, but she caved in. She begged. “Don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her. She’s not a part of this. Let her go and kill me instead. Please.”

Robert laughed as he examined the blade of his knife. “Who said I was going to kill her?” He glanced over his shoulder at Frankie, his eyes unpredictable and mad. “We’re going to have some fun first. I’ve had lots of practice on wolves—your parents being among the first.”

Frankie gasped. This man—this monster—had killed her parents. “You killed my parents?”

“Yes. I killed them. How could I resist killing a packmaster and his wife? I was hoping for a challenge, a step up from the weak rogues I’d been killing. Unfortunately, they proved to be worthless opponents. I’ve had women, wolves...but faeries are a new favorite of mine.” He slapped Allsun. “Isn’t that right, my little troll?”

Frankie watched, completely horrified, as Robert stabbed his blade into the soft flesh of Allsun’s stomach.

* * *

THE TIRES OF Jace’s H3 squealed as he sped up to the curb outside his apartment. He barely took the time to throw the car into Park before he bolted from the vehicle. He rushed up the stairs and burst into the apartment, panting and out of breath, but full of adrenaline.

David stood. “J? Man, what are you—”

“Robert has Frankie and Allsun. Old warehouse in Honeoye.”

David swore.

“We need to go now.” Jace grabbed David’s jacket off a nearby coat rack and threw it at him. “Shane, get your coat on.”

Shane’s eyes widened. “What good will I be? I can’t—”

Jace let out a low growl. “Get your coat on and get in the damn Hummer. Pronto.”

Two minutes later Jace was speeding full-throttle toward Honeoye.

Frankie.

She was his sole focus, the only thing he had to live for. He imagined her face in agony as Robert drew his knife across her skin. The image sent his blood boiling. That sick fuck would pay. He would die the slowest, most painful death Jace could think of.

My fault. All my fault.

The words echoed in his head. Frankie. Allsun. The countless bodies piling up in filthy alleyways. All his fault. He choked down a battle cry that would have shattered the windows.

Shane cleared his throat and leaned in between the two front seats, his face hovering between Jace and David. “We need a plan.”

Jace growled. “I’ll tell you the damn plan. We kill that motherfucker and then carve his eyes out with a dull blade.” Jace’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “No one touches my woman.”

His woman.

Was she his woman?

He thought of the first time they’d made love, the way he had slammed into her and she had taken every inch of him and reveled in it. The way being inside her had felt like coming home. The way her lips had sweetly caressed his.

Damn right she was his woman. Because even when she was ripping out his heart and stomping on it, calling him a liar, he was still fucking in love with her. A weight lifted off his chest. Yeah, he could admit it. He loved her. He didn’t give a flying shit if she were a werewolf, if she were packmaster, if she’d lied about her name and who knew what else, even if she hated him. He loved her, and he would be damned if he was going to let anyone hurt her.

“If either of you want this to be successful, we need a plan,” Shane said, raising his voice, louder than Jace had ever heard it.

“What’s the point in making a plan?” David said. He twisted around to look at Shane. “We’re going to be massacred. Robert has been a Skinwalker longer. He knows his abilities and how to control them. He has the upper hand, and there’s no way Jace can ever one up him, because with his father dead he’ll never be able to access his Berserker powers.”

“Dead?” Jace asked, stunned. “What the hell are you—”

“Uh, yeah,” Shane said from the backseat. “I did some online research after you ran out like the hounds of hell were after you, and...I’m sorry, Jace, but David’s right. He’s dead.”

Jace felt as if the world had been placed on pause. There was no room for anything in his mind except for the news David had delivered and Shane had confirmed. He continued speeding toward the warehouse, but his vigor and anger flickered for a moment before reigniting. His father was dead? The old bastard was finally dead? He wasn’t quite sure how to feel. Sadness—that was what he should have felt, if he’d had a normal childhood. Instead, all he could feel underneath his drive to kill Robert was a sense of relief.

And then the rest of David’s words finally penetrated his brain.

He shook his head to clear it. “Wait. Is that true? That no matter what I do, I’ll never be able to use any of the Berserker powers?”

Shane sighed. “Unless you can go back and talk to your spirit guide again and he has something else to suggest, yeah, it’s true. You’re the last of your bloodline. There’s no one else left for you to kill even if you wanted to. And even with your Skinwalker abilities, Robert still has the advantage, because he’s been using his gifts so much longer. You can’t even shift at will.”

The tension filling the car was staggering. Jace felt suffocated. Several minutes of silence passed before he finally let out a long sigh. This was it, then. He was almost certainly going to die. But that was okay. He would do anything, give anything—even his life—if he could just save Frankie. Finally he spoke.

“Here’s the plan. We do whatever it takes to get Frankie and Allsun out of there. Shane, your job is to drive them to safety. I’ll give you the keys to the H3. David, it’s your job to get them out, then go with them and Shane and make sure they’re safe. Don’t even consider coming back to help me. There are demons in this city you need to take care of. The Execution Underground can’t lose you, and once I’m out of the picture, Damon will see that. I’ll take care of Robert. No matter what it takes.”

David shook his head. “Are you sure, J? Can you do this?”

Jace nodded. “I have to. All I can do now is pray it’s my lucky friggin’ night and I don’t go down with him.”

* * *

ALLSUN’S SCREAMS ECHOED off the warehouse walls and rang in Frankie’s ears. Adrenaline shot through her, and she fought to hold in her anger—she couldn’t allow herself to shift unintentionally—but the rage filling her was on the point of exploding.

“Let her go, you sick bastard!” She shook the cage bars so hard the damn thing nearly tipped over.

Blood poured down the front of Allsun’s torso, staining her shirt and jeans. All the color had drained from her face, and Frankie could tell she was fighting not to pass out.

Robert laughed as he glanced at Frankie. “Don’t worry. I’m not killing her.” He brandished the knife again and stabbed the tip into Allsun’s arm.

She shrieked and writhed from the pain.

“See that right there.” He pointed to the wound, raising his voice to be heard over Allsun’s screams. “It’s a shallow wound. Deep enough to cause pain, but nothing that will cause her any permanent damage.”

He plunged the knife into Allsun’s thigh, inches away from her femoral artery. “Actually, you should be thankful I haven’t taken her life already. I find myself growing bored.”

Seeing him torment Allsun conjured thoughts of her parents. Had Robert tortured them the same way? Her body trembled with fury. She couldn’t let herself think about it.

“You are a sick, pathetic excuse for a human being,” Frankie spat.

Robert paused with the knife in the air and turned toward her. Blood dripped from the blade onto his hand