“My father used to say that my mother was cursed before we were born and that’s why we came out being able to see the things we see.” Jinx paused. “He was right.”
“What do you mean?”
Jinx pressed his lips together, like he was trying to hold back the secret he’d held for a lifetime. From his twin, from everyone. But it was always in the back of his mind, and while the idea of never having a mate always concerned the others, for Jinx it appeared to be a blessing in disguise. It began to surface uneasily for him when Gwen appeared, but how often did lightning strike twice? “My mother was told by an old gypsy woman at the market that she was having twins. She tried to shrug it off, but the woman told her that the second one out would cause all the ruin. That we were both cursed with abilities that could ruin us. That we’d both know evil—that we’d court it. That it was in our blood.”
The twin curse had been passed down for generations. Some said it came from a human superstition, others said it was a bad Dire omen. When twins were born, there was no birth celebration—no, the village was as somber as they were during a funeral dirge. And no matter why that superstition existed, Jinx and Rogue had always been regarded with suspicion. Which meant they always had to work harder, be stronger, better, faster than the other Dires they grew up with.
Being saddled with a twin was bad enough, but then for both of them to have abilities? He was surprised his father hadn’t actually followed through with his threat to kill them once he’d found that out.
The only ones who knew about their abilities were their parents. The twins preferred it that way. Jinx couldn’t have imagined the hell it would’ve brought down on their heads had anyone in the village found out they could see ghosts and spirits. That in itself would be proof enough that the curse of the twins was true.
Their father thought so.
At first, he’d tried beating it out of the young wolves. Daily. And all of that healed up, because it was made preshift. Once they shifted, any scars made by another Dire would’ve remained. But to this day, Jinx’s back ached where he’d been hit over and over with a belt, the buckle slamming his vertebrae. They were made to sleep outside to toughen them up. Those nights were the worst, because it was open market for the spirit world.
“She never stuck up for us,” he remembered Rogue saying when they’d sifted through the rubble of their village, post Extinction, and found their mother’s body. He hadn’t sounded upset, but there was sadness in his tone. They’d been lucky to have each other. Jinx couldn’t have imagined going through it alone.
Whether or not the other Dires knew about their torture, Jinx didn’t know. He’d certainly never spoken of it, preferring to shove it to the back of his mind and be grateful he didn’t have to go back to it. The Dire massacre had actually been something of a relief to him, something he never voiced aloud. He had no idea if Rogue felt the same way.
“She couldn’t. Father would’ve killed her,” Jinx told Gillian. “He almost did a few times.”
“Then he was an abusive asshole, not a warrior,” she said.
That was the truth.
Gillian was watching him carefully before she continued, “So you were an outcast, just like me.”
“Ah, Gilly—”
“There’s no Dire world left like the one you describe. No one to stop me from being with you because of things beyond your control.”
“If you stay, you’ll get hurt. I can’t protect you.”
“But you already have. Several times plus, by my count. You’ve been hiding too much from me,” she told him. “I can’t blame you for that, but my life’s an open book.”
“Because you’re on the news,” he pointed out.
“Because you broke me out of a mental institution to tell me I’m a wolf.”
“Well, if you’re going to get technical about it,” he muttered.
“Jinx, please. I’d like to help.”
“You can’t. Trust me—if you could, I’d be eternally fucking grateful, but you can’t. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“If it’s that dangerous, maybe you shouldn’t either.”
“I have control of it.”
“Of what? The ghosts?”
He turned to her then and she actually took a step back when she looked into his eyes. “The monsters. For now, I have total control of them. But there’s going to come a time when the roles are reversed, and I don’t want you anywhere close to me when that happens.”
Chapter 20
After Cain and Cyd came back bloody and took the bodies of the Weres to Liam, Vice and the rest of the Dires went back inside the mansion. Killian boarded up the window so nothing could accidentally find its way inside and then they sat in the living room, all of them uncharacteristically quiet.
Or maybe stunned was a better word. Even Harm, who looked like an arrogant shit on the best of days, managed to look worried. Whether it was for them or for Jinx, Vice didn’t know. He also didn’t know if it mattered.
Finally, Killian said, “Why the hell did the Arrows give Gillian away?”
“Only one reason makes sense,” Stray said quietly.
“She has an ability,” Gwen murmured, finishing Stray’s thought. “How would they have known? The Blackwells have had her since she was an infant. Her baby picture’s been splashed all over the news. At most, she was a month, but I’d say closer to two weeks.”
Stray answered, “She probably walked long before she was supposed to. Had to be a month old but presented closer to a year.”
“And thought to be an abomination, just like me and Stray,” Killian added. “I don’t understand why the Elders would allow that pack to exist in such ignorance.”
“Because they knew you guys and Gillian and Odin knows who else is going to be born from their bloodlines,” Vice said.
“So Gillian was given to a human family instead of the Elders, who could’ve passed her to us?” Stray asked angrily and Vice closed his eyes and tried to picture the Eydis he’d known going along with something like Jinx’s scenario.
“The Elders are more fucked-up than I am, and that’s saying something,” he finally muttered.
Cyd and Cain brought Liam the young Weres who’d been killed, apprised him of the situation. He’d remained inside after the panic started, and even though it killed him, he knew it was important for the king to remain alive and well. It was far too critical a time for another loss.
He placed a call to their original pack, thanking their leader and informing them that justice had been done swiftly.
“I’ll send you other wolves, Liam. And I’m grateful for your honoring Weres you’d never met.”
“They fought bravely,” Liam told them. “And I’m grateful for your solidarity.”
A few more brief words and he hung up.
There would be more days of this—months, years, even. And even though Cyd and Cain were weary of the outlaws and trappers, they were still primed for the fight. Now, they lay together on the couch, unwilling to split apart just yet.
The blood bond of the fight was strong—none wanted to break it. But a knock on the sunroom door sent them all into action, Liam pushing his way there first to find a weregirl waiting.
“What’s your business here?” he demanded of the dark-haired, pretty Were dressed in black leather pants and a white tank top with a pink bra underneath.
He practically heard Cyd panting behind him but something inside of Liam was claiming possession of her, even as his mind said he was done with that kind of shit for a long time. Still, he opened the door and waited for her answer, his body seriously demanding he do more than just talk to her.
