from his neck. His Brother Wolf was slowing waking as well. When that wolf wanted out, Rogue wouldn’t be able to control him. It was almost like being a newly shifted wolf—he would have to relearn the controls, until Brother Wolf was satiated and well run.
He stripped, began to pad toward the shower when he stopped cold.
Jinx was coming—he was close—and he was bringing trouble with him. Rogue’s twin sense was coming back strong, which meant Jinx was feeling him as well. He was also pretty sure that Vice would tell Jinx that he’d woken up, but he couldn’t blame the Dire for that.
Vice would’ve done the same for him if the roles were reversed. And it made things easier, because what was Rogue supposed to do, ring Jinx up and say, “Hey brother, I’m back and you’ve really fucked up big- time.”
So yeah, Rogue was awake and already keeping more secrets than one wolf should ever have to. There would be a price to pay for all of this, including not going to Rifter straightaway, but for the moment, Rogue reveled in simply moving forward, in the feeling of the shower prickling his skin—he’d taken three—and watching the deep scratches from the mare slowly heal up.
What wouldn’t go away were the markings on the left side of his face. Those had come out because of Seb’s spell and they would be a party favor that would keep on giving, linking him to hell. He had no idea what those ramifications were, but wasn’t anxious to find out. He’d sprinkled salt around his windowsills already as a precautionary measure.
After half an hour, he knew Jinx was closer to the house and he stepped out, dripping on the floor. He used his hand to squeegee the water out of his hair. No one had cut it while he was sleeping and he needed a haircut, never liked wearing it this long.
He grabbed a pair of scissors and began to chop. Maybe he should wait until he could get a professional to do so, or maybe he should just start fresh. Completely, totally new.
He hacked until his hair was an inch from his scalp, and then he grabbed the buzzers and went to work. After he’d cueballed himself, he noted that the markings were all along his skull as well. “Might as well not try to hide it.”
It fit with the biker mode they had going on. Made his eyes darker.
If anything, maybe the spirits would stay away from him when they saw he’d been marked by hell.
The deadhead drove as Jinx kept checking Gillian’s breathing, her pulse—which was racing—until Jez asked, “Are we just storming the mansion or are you calling ahead, wolf?”
Shit. He pulled his phone from his pocket, keeping one hand on Gillian and dialed Gwen. The new queen had been most kind to him, calling to check on him. He was sure she wasn’t doing it behind Rifter’s back, but Gwen definitely had a mind of her own.
“Jinx, what’s wrong?” she asked without saying hello.
“I’m bringing a Dire wolf in.”
“Who’s hurt?” she demanded.
“No one you know. It’s a full female Dire.”
There was a long silence and then, “I’ll open the garage for you. Come right into the clinic.”
She hung up and Jinx directed Jez to park in the garage in between the Hummers and the Harleys and various other sports cars and classics. He moved quickly, with Gillian in his arms and Jez trailing behind him until he saw Gwen waiting in the hallway. She motioned for him to follow her and he did, placing Gillian gently down on the stretcher before backing away to give Gwen room to work.
But for a long moment, Gwen simply stared down at her.
“She’s full Dire,” she finally breathed.
“Yes. She was in a psych ward.”
“So she has no idea what she is?” she asked as she turned her full attention back to Gillian. “She’s pretty.”
Jinx agreed, watched Gwen put two fingers on Gillian’s wrist as she placed the stethoscope on Gillian’s chest under her T-shirt. Jinx heard his growl, low, warning, before he could stop it.
Gwen stilled and stared at Jinx, her canines elongated.
“Jinx, you’ve got to back off and let Gwen check her. She’s not hurting her,” Jez said and when Jinx looked at the vampire, his fangs had come down too.
“Jinx is feeling . . . protective,” Jez told Gwen and she stared between Jinx and Gillian. The bond was palpable, at least to Jinx and from the look on her face, she felt it too.
She looked back at the vampire, who simply smiled.
Christ. He stared at the floor, took a deep breath and tamped down that reaction because what the fuck? “Sorry,” he mumbled after a long, tense moment and Gwen went back to her exam.
“Do you know if she’s been drugged like this for five years running?” she asked.
“I’m assuming so, but maybe not as heavily. If they have her birthday listed correctly, she’s due for her first shift in three months.” Jinx went for the intercom. “Maybe Stray can look into her records.”
“That’s a good idea,” Gwen said. “Because I have to know how bad her withdrawal’s going to be.”
Jinx put his finger on the button but he hadn’t pressed it yet. Gwen went over to him and pressed, called up to Stray. “Come to the basement and bring your laptop. Stat.”
Stray gave a sharp “Will do,” and she added, “Bring Killian.”
Jinx looked at her with a furrowed brow.
“Gillian might be from the Greenland pack,” she offered.
“Right. They might know her.” His entire body tensed at the thought of other Dires coming down here, coming near Gillian. And it had to have shown, because Gwen asked, “Are you going to be able to hold it together?”
“Of course he can,” Jez said. “What? I have impeccable hearing. It’s not just you wolves.”
Gwen gave Jinx a lingering look and then went back to Gillian. She ran some IVs, explaining to Jinx, who’d been a medic in the Army, what each one was—he’d know what they’d do. It was nothing he wouldn’t have done for any of the Dires, nothing that could hurt Gillian. Rather, this could push the drugs out of her system, but not so fast as to cause a reaction.
It dawned on him then. “You think her body’s addicted to the drugs?”
“I don’t know. Can wolves get addicted? Don’t forget, this is all preshift,” she said. “I mean, our metabolisms are really too fast for drugs to stay in long, but this kind of exposure, day in and day out . . .”
“She ran away for days at a time. And she always came back. Wouldn’t she have gone through withdrawals then?”
“Maybe she was. Or maybe the wolf was urging her on. I can’t be sure, Jinx. But I’ll do everything to make sure she’s comfortable,” Gwen promised and Jinx believed her.
He heard Jez at the door talking to Killian and Stray, and he could make out the bare-bones conversation that consisted of
Message received, because Stray and Kill both gave him a warm greeting but stayed by his side when looking at Gillian.
“Do you recognize her?” Jinx asked.
“She’s got to be from the Greenland pack but I don’t recognize anything about her,” Stray said tightly. “Then again, if she’s not immortal, I might not ever have known her.”
They both knew Stray wouldn’t have known her at all, the way he’d been caged and isolated by his family in Greenland. There was no love lost for that pack from anyone in this household.
Kill walked to the end of the table and uncovered Gillian’s feet. Gently, he lifted the left and checked the heel, nodded as though he’d found what he expected. “There’s a marking here. A brand given at birth to everyone born to the Greenland pack, for tracking purposes.”
Stray went to look at his own heel but Kill said quietly, “You weren’t given one. It’s a good thing, brother.”
Stray’s brow furrowed. “I guess it is.”
Kill recovered Gillian’s feet. “She looks like Arrow’s family,” Kill said decisively. “Are her eyes blue? Aqua?”
