“I’m definitely not the king of goddamned purgatory,” Jinx said, but the beast sent up a mournful bark that said otherwise.
“Cheer up. Things could be worse,” Jez noted.
“How so?”
“You could be the king of purgatory and be inside purgatory.”
“I hate it when you’re logical.”
Jez stilled then, murmured, “Hey Jinx, we’ve got company.”
But Jinx already felt her presence like the soft brush of a hand on the back of his neck, a warm caress of sun. He felt her before he saw her, like there was a silken tie that stretched between them but remained unbroken. He felt tangled up. Confused. And grateful as hell.
He didn’t dare turn away from the monster, had no fucking clue what to do with the bowing hellhound presence. Finally, he told it, “Go hide. Don’t kill or hurt anyone. Tell the others to stand the fuck down. Wait for my call.”
The hellhound did some kind of doggy nod and disappeared quickly into the brush around the cemetery.
“How very military of you,” Jez drawled.
“You’re from London, not the south.”
“I’m versatile.”
“You’re fucking nuts.”
“I’ve been hanging around wolves for too long.” Jez still looked shaky as he lit a cigarette that looked suspiciously like one of Vice’s special hand rolls. “This is getting weird. We might have to ask Kate if you’re all evil again.”
“We can just ask Rogue,” Jinx said. “I’m guessing he’ll say yes.”
Jez sighed. “Why don’t you see if you can make sure Gillian doesn’t run again? Although I have a feeling she was running to you.”
It was then that Jinx realized his biggest fear wasn’t in the form of a monster, but rather, a mate.
Chapter 7
Instinctively, she knew where to find Jinx. In her old life, before the hospitals and the drugs, if anyone told her she’d be running through a creepy cemetery in the middle of the night alone, she’d have laughed. She probably would’ve been drinking at the time, in some kind of underground rave party with all the hangers-on who wanted to be called her friends because of her name and the money and perks that went along with that.
She let them, because it didn’t cost her a dime, and she’d never let them inside where it mattered anyway. She’d learned from a young age that everyone wanted something from her, but that didn’t mean she had to give it to them.
Her warrior was standing, tall and proud, his stance one of battle. And although she didn’t see any imminent threat, she certainly felt one.
Her heartbeat pounded inside her ears, her toes dug the grass as her muscles tensed. She felt the urge to rescue him in much the same way he had her, but the rustling in her ears grew loud and she wasn’t sure what to do.
He sensed her, but he didn’t turn around, not right away. When he finally did, his expression was serious but his eyes . . . they glowed.
She wore what must be Gwen’s clothes. As much as he wanted to see her naked, he was glad she wasn’t, because they weren’t alone.
Once acknowledged, she strode across the space that separated them like she owned it.
She was mesmerizing and when you were trying to tame a hellhound, it wasn’t the best time to be distracted.
“You’re angry,” she murmured when she got close.
“No. Worried.”
“Don’t be.”
She was so goddamned pretty. His instinct was to fall to his damned knees and take her down with him, Jez and hellhounds be damned. Even Brother Wolf egged him on and it took him a long moment to gain control. “Gillian,” was all he could say before he brought his mouth down on hers.
So much for control. Jez would have to deal.
Her hands wrapped around his neck as he pulled her close. Her body molded to his perfectly, a fit he’d never thought possible.
And that didn’t stop him from playing his tongue along hers, his canines elongating just enough to scrape her lip, a sign that Brother Wolf wanted to claim her too. His cock hardened and she moved her hips to rock against him. He ran his hands along her sides, cupped a breast before realizing that if he didn’t stop soon, he wouldn’t be able to.
When he pulled back, she put her hands on either side of his face and stared at him. “You’re worried.”
“About you, yes. Because you shouldn’t be out here alone.”
“I’ve always been alone. But now, I’m with you.”
Ah Christ. “Gillian—”
“You feel it too, when we’re together. It happened back at the hospital. That’s never happened to me.”
She was so much like the Dire women of old. Strong. Self-assured. Fate at first sight didn’t happen often, but they’d locked and loaded onto each other in the hospital room and nothing was going to change that.
He wasn’t worthy of this. She was nobility. Royalty. “It’s never happened to me either.”
“I couldn’t help leaving to find you.”
“I’m glad you did,” he admitted.
“The doctor—Gwen—said you were working.”
She was absorbing the Dire culture so quickly—being around him would make everything happen faster for her. She’d scented him here, and she knew instinctively that he was hunting.
“She’s right.”
“You’re hunting ghosts.” Her eyes flashed for a second and he swore he saw them change. Prayed it was a trick of light.
“Yes. I’ll tell you more, but we should get out of here.”
“I was worried about you. You were fighting, I think. I didn’t see anything but I feel . . .” She trailed off, shivered.
“Those are the ghosts.”
“And the monster?”
“What do you know about that?”
“They talked about it. At the hospital. I never saw it but a lot of them did.” She slid her hand into his like it was the most natural thing in the world as they walked, with Jez several steps ahead of them. “I don’t want to go back there.”
“To the hospital? You won’t.”
“No, to the house with Gwen.”
“Did something happen?” he heard himself demand with a growl to his tone so fierce Jez stopped walking for a second and turned to look at him with warning.
If Gillian noticed, she took it in stride. “No, they all seem nice. I just want to stay with you.”
“You met all of them?”
