Last Wolf Hunting Read online

  Jeremy stalked closer, enjoying the shadow of panic that darkened Drake’s eyes with each step that he took. “Then forget the challenge,” he suggested, the guttural sound of his voice more animal than human as his wolf struggled for control…for dominance. “Let’s deal with this the old-fashioned way, without any rules and regulations. Just two enemies going at one another, hungry for the kill.”

  Drake’s eyes went wide, his lip curling as he snarled, “You wouldn’t dare kill me without the authority of a proper challenge fight!”

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong.” Jeremy gave him another slow, arrogant smile. “If my partner were here, he could tell you I have a bad reputation for being a rule breaker.” He paused, letting his words sink in, while taking another step closer, then another, each movement countered by Drake until the Elder’s thighs were plastered against the heavy edge of the table at his back. “So what’s it gonna be? If you’re too chicken to fight me like a man, I can only assume you’re ready to die like an animal.”

  Drake’s body vibrated with outrage, but there was a pale cast beneath his skin, and Jeremy could smell the acrid scent of the bastard’s fear. “I would never lower myself to fight you. You’re not even worth the effort, when I can just have you killed off instead.” The thin line of his mouth twisted into a grotesque semblance of a smile, his eyes glowing with the maniacal burn of insanity. “And I’ll send my rogues after your little bitch, too. You, they’ll take down fast—but they’ll do Jillian slowly. She deserves to suffer for allowing something as filthy as you to touch her,” he snarled. “She deserves to die for daring to turn her back on the pack—for choosing a half-breed like you over her duty to her wolves!”

  It only took a fraction of a second for Jeremy to have the monster’s throat in his grip, then slam him down backward on the cluttered surface of the table with a jarring thud. Sheffield started to lunge forward, when Eric whipped a gun from the waistband of his jeans at the center of his lower back. He aimed the intimidating weapon point-blank between the Lycan’s eyes, and Sheffield lifted his arms, while a screeching, furious roar poured from Drake’s throat, his damp hands pulling ineffectually at Jeremy’s wrists.

  Smiling down into the Elder’s terror-filled face, Jeremy slowly shook his head. “You’ve truly lost your mind, haven’t you, Drake?”

  “I’ve lost my humanity!” the Elder croaked. “And gladly! Unlike you and your sniveling friends, I’ve accepted the true nature of my beast. I’ve embraced the purity of what I am, of what the Silvercrest are meant to be. You and your Runners can’t stop what I’ve set in motion. Not even the combined forces of hell can stop me now!”

  Jeremy leaned closer, going nose-to-nose with the Elder. “That’s what all the sick sons of bitches say, just before they take their last breath.” His fingers tightened, nearly cutting off the Lycan’s air, and in a soft, almost silent whisper, Jeremy said, “All I have to do is twist.”

  “My s-son would n-never let you do it,” Drake stammered, spittle spraying from his thin lips as his face turned dark with a violent wash of color.

  “Eric?” A rough laugh burst from Jeremy’s chest. “You just used his little sister like a puppet on a string. Do you really think he cares what I do with you?”

  “Elise got exactly what she deserved! I set her up today, knowing damn well she would go running off and tattle to her friend, convinced she was doing the right thing. It was so easy it was pathetic. And there’s nothing you can do about it, because the League would never let you get away with killing me. Do it, and they’ll demand your life for mine—and Jillian will be left at the mercy of those who will avenge me. No matter what you do, in the end, her blood will be on your hands, Runner. Jillian’s blood will be on your hands!”

  “On second thought,” Jeremy growled, allowing his fangs to finally slip free, “I think I’ll go ahead and rip your throat out, you psychotic piece of—”

  “Burns!” Eric shouted, the Lycan’s gun still aimed at Sheffield while he caught Jeremy’s wild-eyed gaze, demanding he listen. “Don’t do it!”

  Jeremy’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Whose side are you on, Eric?”

  “I couldn’t care less what happens to him,” Eric grunted, jerking his chin toward his father, “but he’s right. If you kill him in cold blood, the League will demand your execution. He isn’t worth it.”

  “And maybe I don’t give a shit,” Jeremy growled, aware of his wolf’s primal, visceral need for retribution overshadowing what he knew was right. “Maybe it’s worth it,” he panted, cutting his eyes back to Drake, “so long as I’m taking this bastard with me.”

  “And what about Jillian?” Eric demanded in a harsh shout, urging him to listen to reason. “She’s going to need you now more than ever, Jeremy. Are you willing to leave her on her own? Are you willing to give up the chance for a life with her?”

  He ground his teeth while the man in him struggled to regain control, but the beast was still seething, hungry for blood. “He deserves to die!” he snarled in a stifled roar.

  “I know he does,” Eric grated, “but not like this. That’s what separates you from him. That’s what makes you different, Burns. You’re stronger than the animal, goddamn it. You’re stronger than the need to kill.”

  Jeremy squeezed his eyes closed, his heart pounding, chest heaving as he fought a violent internal battle that would determine the rest of his life. Kill the bastard in cold blood…or let him go, saving his punishment for another day in order to have a life with the woman he loved.

  And in the end, it was the purity—the power—of that love that tipped the balance. It was Jillian that brought him back from the edge.

  Heaving a deep, shuddering sigh, Jeremy released his hold on Drake’s throat and slowly eased away, his beast howling in outrage, while a burning spark of hope began to slowly ease the knots of fury twisting him up inside. With each backward step, he moved that little bit closer to the chance of having a life with Jillian—closer to the one thing he’d always wanted most in this godforsaken world.

  “This isn’t over,” he rasped, taking another step away, followed by another, watching as the Elder sluggishly pushed himself up from the table. “I’ll be waiting for you to make your move, and when you do, you’re mine. I’ll be the last wolf hunting you down, Drake—and in the end, you are going to pay for your crimes. Every single goddamn one of them.”

  Pulling the shreds of his dignity around him like a cloak, Drake straightened his shirt, then ran his hands through his hair. Jerking his chin toward Jeremy, he curled his lip and addressed his second-in-command. “Stop standing there and do your job, Cooper. I want this half-breed out of my presence.”

  Sheffield reached for him, but Jeremy cut the Lycan a hard smile and jerked his arm away. “Touch me just once, Sheffield, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

  “Burns, come on,” Eric called out, already waiting by the door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Nodding, Jeremy turned and began making his way toward the door, eager to get back to Jillian and hold her in his arms, assuring himself that she was okay…that she was safe and unharmed. He’d just reached the entrance when he caught Eric’s outraged expression from the corner of his eye, the Lycan’s dark gray stare narrowing with fury as he started to shout out a warning. But Jeremy was already reacting. Knowing he had only seconds, he pivoted on the balls of his feet and whipped around, just in time to see a fully shifted Sheffield hurtling toward him. He tried to counter the attack at the same moment Eric fired off a shot, but the wolf was moving too quickly, its distended claws sinking into Jeremy’s abdomen with a sickening burst of pain that threatened to consume him in a dark, smothering wave. The only thing that kept him on his feet was the knowledge that Jillian was waiting for him—that she needed him.

  With the bastard’s claws buried deep in his belly, Jeremy lifted his hands and quickly wrapped them around the wolf’s thick neck, twisting until he heard a sharp crack of sound, snapping Shef
field’s spinal column. “Nice try,” he rasped, “but you lose.”

  The werewolf’s heavy body sagged to the floor, a hoarse cry breaking out of Jeremy’s throat as Sheffield’s claws pulled free. Nausea rolled through him like a poison, while his blood poured from the deep wounds in a warm, wet spill that soaked his shirt and jeans. He staggered, light-headed, only to find Eric’s arm wrapped around his side, holding him upright.

  Glancing back at Drake, Jeremy shook his head with mock pity. “Is that best that you’ve got?” he taunted, lifting his brows.

  Drake refused to remark, his sinister features rigid with fury. Only the dark tinge of rage cresting his cheekbones kept him from looking like a statue that’d been carved from granite, lifeless and cold.

  “Come on, Burns,” Eric muttered, shifting toward the door. “You have something a lot better than this waiting for you.”

  “Just take his truck,” Jeremy grunted through clenched teeth when they were outside, fighting the rolling waves of agony ripping his insides to shreds. He closed his eyes, hoping like hell he could make it long enough to see Jillian before he lost consciousness. If he hadn’t lost so much blood from the bullet wound just days before and from the run-in with the rogues before that, he probably would have had a fighting chance—but the past few weeks had been hell on his body. He knew the odds weren’t in his favor, but he also knew he was a stubborn son of a bitch who wouldn’t give up without a fight.

  “Hold on, Burns,” he heard Eric mutter through the roaring pain in his head, his shredded abdominal muscles screaming in protest as the Lycan got him into the truck’s backseat. “Just hold on and I’ll get you to Jillian.”

  He tried to say thanks, only his lips were too numb to form the words. He struggled, fighting it, but the darkness kept pulling him deeper, as if he were falling to the bottom of a steep, dark lake. He kicked and screamed and raged against the cold, stark burn of reality that told him he was dying. Goddamn it, he wasn’t going to let it happen. Not before he’d told her how he felt. Not before he’d had the chance to hold her in his arms and tell her he loved her. That he was sorry for being proud…sorry he hadn’t fought for her all those years ago. That he never wanted to spend another second of his life without her.

  Jeremy struggled…and seethed…and raged, but no matter how hard he fought against it, he just kept sinking deeper.

  Chapter 16

  Tossing restlessly atop a cool, comfortable bed, a light sheet tangled around his legs, Jeremy struggled to pull himself back to a lucid state of consciousness. His eyes felt gritty as he forced them open, his lids heavy…weighted. He braced himself for a sickening wave of pain that lingered at the edges of his memory, but it never came. Squinting, he stared into the shadowed room, wondering where he was.

  “There you are,” a deep voice rumbled at his side. “You’ve been out for a few hours. I was starting to wonder when you’d come around.”

  “Mason?” he croaked.

  “Yeah, I’m here.” A small lamp on the bedside table turned on, sending a warm wash of mellow gold through the room that didn’t quite reach into the dusky corners. Jeremy instantly recognized the basement apartment in Mason’s cabin. He was lying on one of the twin beds, his partner sitting in a chair that had been placed near his bedside.

  Licking his dry lips, he said, “What happened? Where’s Jillian?” He winced at the scratchy sound of his voice, but as bad as he sounded, his body felt unusually good. No aches. No pains. Just this sluggish climb back from the depths of wherever he’d been…floating or sleeping or whatever the hell he’d been doing.

  “Do you remember what happened with Sheffield?” Mason asked.

  “Yeah. I remember breaking the bastard’s neck, and then Eric shoving me into the backseat of a truck. But…it’s all a blank after that.” Again, he said, “Where’s Jillian?”

  Instead of answering the question, his partner gave him a lopsided smile. “That’s one hell of a woman you’ve got there, Jeremy. I hope you know how lucky you are.”

  This time, his words grated with impatience. “Where the hell is she?”

  Mason chuckled softly under his breath. “She’s here, in the Alley. There’s no need to worry. I just want to talk to you a minute before you go barging off after her.”

  Impatient to do just that, Jeremy tested his body by tightening his abs and pulling himself into a sitting position, amazed when he didn’t experience so much as a twinge of discomfort. And suddenly, as the cobwebs cleared from his mind, he realized why. “She healed me,” he stated, his flat monotone devoid of emotion, while inside he experienced a deep, piercing twinge of regret. She knew the truth now, about everything.

  Jeremy knew it shouldn’t bother him—but it did.

  Dammit, he’d wanted her to believe in him, only…not like this. He’d wanted to earn her faith on his own, not because of what she learned in his head.

  “Before you get maudlin on me,” Mason drawled, “you might be interested to know that she kept herself out of your head, even though it about killed her to do it without the aid of your mind, considering how badly you were hurt.”

  He whipped his head to the side so quickly, he damn near gave himself whiplash. “What?”

  Mason gave him a small, knowing smile, understanding his demons. “It’s true. She did the healing without peeking into that thick head of yours, but she suffered because of it. The process took so much out of her, I thought she was going to collapse when it was finally over.”

  “Is she okay?” he rasped, his voice roughened by concern as he threw his legs over the side of the bed.

  “Sayre was able to use her own power to boost Jillian’s energy afterward, and it helped get her back to normal. But it was rough there for a while,” Mason told him. “She looked like someone who’d had their life sucked right out of them, but I guess she poured everything she had into making sure you lived. And she even called Graham and demanded he come down here to see your injuries for himself, so that there could be no doubt you had killed Sheffield in self-defense.”

  “Was she…upset, when she saw me?” he asked, flicking a quick look at his partner.

  Mason rolled his eyes, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. “Upset doesn’t even begin to cover it. I think my ears are still ringing from the lashing she gave me for allowing you to go off and almost get yourself killed.”

  Jeremy glanced toward the stairs, keenly aware of the urgent, driving need to get to her as quickly as possible. “Is she still here?” he asked thickly.

  Standing, Mason said, “She left Sayre here and headed back to your cabin about fifteen minutes ago. I think she was going to try and get some more rest.”

  “I need some clothes,” he grunted, anxious to get the hell out of there.

  Mason shot him a hard grin and jerked his chin toward the foot of the bed. “You’ve got jeans and a T-shirt waiting for you right there.”

  “Thanks, man. For everything.”

  “No problem,” Mason replied with a low laugh. “Just don’t scare the hell out of me like that again. I think I lost ten years when I saw how bad he’d gotten you.”

  “Trust me, I have every intention of living a very long, very healthy life from this point on,” Jeremy drawled, running his hand over the pink, puckered scars scattered across his abdomen, before pulling on the borrowed shirt and jeans. He’d just reached the bottom stair, when Mason said his name. Looking back over his shoulder, Jeremy asked, “Yeah?”

  His partner’s mouth twitched with humor. “I just wanted you to know that if you make Hennessey your best man instead of me, I’ll kill you myself.”

  “Idiot,” he snickered, while his shoulders shook with silent laughter. Then he set off up the stairs…taking them two at a time.

  * * *

  When he found her, she was taking her bath.

  As Jeremy stood just outside the closed bathroom door, he clutched the handle in a death grip and rested his forehead against the door’s cool wood grain, ruefully a
ware of his heart thundering like a drum in his chest. He was so hard he could barely see straight, so excited his breath jerked from his lungs in a harsh, erratic rhythm.

  He couldn’t believe that after all these years, it was finally going to happen—and he couldn’t wait one single second more.

  Jillian gasped the instant he swung the door open, her brown eyes shocked wide with surprise. She sat up so quickly that the bathwater sloshed over the edge of the tub, spilling out over the floor. “What are you doing out of bed?”

  He tried to answer, but his throat wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, he found himself grabbing her up out of the water, swallowing her soft shriek with his mouth as he set her sleek, wet body on the counter. He pressed between her legs, urging her knees wide with his hands, and against her mouth, he groaned, “Why did you do it, Jillian?”

  He knew she would understand what he was asking, that he wanted…needed to know why she’d healed him the way that she had.

  “Do you remember what I told you the night you came back, after the challenge fight?” she asked, her skin rosy and damp from the bathwater, so beautiful that she took his breath away. “About my destiny?”

  Jeremy lifted his hands, cradling her precious face in his palms, staring into the warm depths of her eyes, feeling as if he could see his every emotion—his love and hope and the burning, white-hot glow of hunger—mirrored right there, gazing back at him. “I remember,” he told her in a voice gritty with emotion. “You said that the pack was your destiny.”

  “I was wrong,” she whispered, velvety brown eyes glistening with tears—and it was a kind of magic, the way her eyes revealed her soul. “You’re my destiny. I stayed out of your head tonight because I want a future with you, Jeremy. One that isn’t trapped in the past.” She lifted her hand, stroking the cool tips of her fingers against the heat of his cheek in a way that felt as spiritual as it did sexual, the look in her eyes tender and soft, melting his heart. “I did it because I trust you, with everything that I am. But most of all, I did it because I love you.”