She grabbed a fistful of his hair and tried to glare at him. “It’s not funny, Joe. I’ve got plenty of trauma to deal with, but I am not broken, so I’m not going to put up with any faux-chivalrous, chauvinistic bullshit from you. I get enough of that shit from Keith with his freaked-out big-brother act.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He looked entirely unperturbed by her tirade. “But have a little faith, honey. If I thought you were broken, you wouldn’t be na**d in my bed.”
It was impossible not to smile. “That would be a pity, because you are without a doubt the hottest forty-five-year-old I have ever seen.”
“Hell yeah, I am.” He stretched out one arm and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
“Good night, Brynn.”
The dark wasn’t nearly as threatening with Joe’s solid presence next to her. She shifted her head and kissed his shoulder softly before settling against him. “Good night, Joe.”
Chapter Six
Brynn had been in the alphas’ house once before, but a casual dinner with Keith and Abby hadn’t prepared her for this. Abby talked about power all the time, about feeling other people’s strength as if it was something tangible. Before now, Brynn had found the idea a little amusing. Some people had presence—anyone who worked in politics knew that—but charisma and confidence were the secret, not magic.
When she walked into Gavin’s kitchen, she felt the power. The huge wooden table was full today, and every gaze turned to her when she crossed the threshold. The sheer weight of it might have sent her back a step if Joe hadn’t been behind her.
But he was, and he urged her forward with a hand between her shoulder blades. “It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”
Sam rose from her seat with a smile. “Brynn. Thank you for coming, sweetie. We’re just finishing up some business here. Joe, why don’t you take her out on the porch until I come fetch you?”
“Sure, Sam.” He led Brynn through the kitchen and out onto a wide, sturdy porch. He indicated the swing with a nod. “Want to sit?”
“Yeah.” The wooden swing creaked a little as she sat, and she clenched her hand around the chain and stared out at the dense forest beyond the porch. “Nice view. Peaceful.”
“Mmm.” Joe kept his eyes on Brynn. “I couldn’t keep Keith away tonight. But it’s his gig, you know.”
She’d figured as much, but it would make it harder. The speech floating half-formed in her head would be difficult enough to deliver to complete strangers, much less Keith. And Joe. Her fingers tightened around the cool metal chain and she nodded. “The two of you just have to promise not to get all growly and upset.”
“I already told Keith that was part of the deal.” He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll keep it under control.”
Brynn nodded and let herself lean into his side a little. “Are you going to get creeped out watching me do the politician-speech thing? Some people think it’s manipulative and sort of sleazy.” She tried to keep her tone light, but it seemed a pointless task. Even if she controlled her voice, Joe would read her nervousness in any of a dozen other signals she wasn’t even aware of. Which means it’s a good thing I believe what I’m saying. I don’t think lying for the sake of politics works on werewolves.
“‘Sleazy’ is the last thing I’d call you, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You haven’t finished law school yet.”
She gave in and laughed. “Yeah, I suppose even being kidnapped by insane werewolves has a silver lining.”
“I think maybe so.”
A gentle breeze set the branches to swaying and teased at a few stray pieces of her hair. Brynn planted her foot against the ground and rocked the swing gently. “So what happens after this? If they listen to you and Keith and…and me?”
“Then we go to war.” He stared out at the trees. “To Helena first. There are too many personal scores to settle to go anywhere else. They can tell themselves it’s about the closest threat…but it’s about Alan Matthews.”
She thought of the Helena alpha. She thought of his deceptive good looks and charm, of the way he seemed able to switch between civilized manners and terrifying rage. She remembered the way he’d touched her when he’d filmed the video to lure Abby, bored and uninterested as he licked her face. It should have been sexually charged, threatening, but the minute the camera was off she may as well have been invisible. She’d found his lack of interest comforting until she realized it was something far more chilling—an absolute lack of feeling.
Alan Matthews had looked at her and seen a mildly useful accessory, something to be used, if
possible, or gifted for good behavior. His sick obsession with Abby might have been preferable to being a thing, forgettable and unremarkable. Disposable.
She shivered and pressed closer to Joe, turning her face to his shoulder. “Promise me. Promise me I’ll never end up with him again.”
Joe started a little, as if the idea hadn’t occurred to him. “No way. Fuck, no.”
“If it comes down to it—if I’m going to end up turned—I don’t want them to do it.” It was a struggle to keep the stark terror out of her voice. “The rest of them talked about raping me, but not Pierce. He’d sit there for hours and talk about ripping me up and watching me change. I think he was some sort of serial killer or something. He said I’d be perfect because I looked just like his girls, but he could do me a hundred times and I’d always get better.”
Joe’s hand tightened around the swing’s chain until his knuckles turned white and the metal creaked.
“You’re making me wish I hadn’t shot him.”
“If you hadn’t shot him, I might not have slept again. Ever.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes almost golden in the slanting sunlight. “I meant I wouldn’t have made it so fast. So easy. He would have suffered, Brynn.”
Part of her felt shame at the thrill his words brought. The part of her that had interned under a senator to promote gun control, that had argued against capital punishment and scoffed at vigilante justice.
Everything had been black and white, two months ago. Right and wrong.
She squeezed her hands into fists to hide their shaking. “I don’t know who I am anymore, because I wish he’d suffered. I wish it had been slow.”
“It doesn’t make you a bad person, you know.”
Maybe not, but it felt like it. Brynn fought another of those horrible shivers and squeezed her eyes shut to block out his face. “I know. But it takes a lot of getting used to. At least Abby can blame her murderous feelings on her new instincts.”
“It’s not something I learned from being a wolf,” he admitted, covering her hand with his. “I learned a long time ago, Brynn. Some people are just…bad. Wishing anything good or fair for them is useless.”
It made her laugh, though the sound was edged with hysteria. “Christ, Joe. I wanted to work in politics. I saw greed and corruption and some seriously f**ked-up skeletons in closets. I thought I was past feeling naïve about how f**king bad the world can be.”
He didn’t offer any more platitudes, just drew her closer. The swing squeaked softly as they rocked in silence. The only other sounds were of the wind playing through the heavy pine branches and the murmur of voices from inside the house.
It was soothing enough that she felt disappointed when the door opened and Samantha’s soft voice floated out. “We’re ready.”
Joe stood and helped her up. When he guided her through the back door, there were even more people seated at and around the table in the kitchen.
Gavin raised his hand. “Over here, Brynn.”
He gestured to a large chair at the head of the table, the chair he’d occupied the last time she’d been here. He pulled it back and held it for her with an encouraging smile, and she lowered herself gingerly.
Samantha took the seat directly to Brynn’s right, and smiled as she reached out to cover her hand. “No one expects you to get all the names straight, but let me introduce you to our guests.”
Brynn had long since learned the trick of matching names to faces, one that had proved useful in her chosen profession. She studied the werewolves as Sam introduced them, picking out their defining characteristics out of habit and committing them to memory.
Bobby and Anna, from Green Pond, Alabama, were a young couple, both with bright blue eyes and cheerful, relaxed smiles. Anna gave her an encouraging wink, and Bobby nodded and welcomed her with a Southern drawl that seemed a tad too overdone to be real.
Next came Paul and Hazel, the alphas from Dutch Harbor, Alaska. Paul was massive, with a face that looked carved from granite and shoulders that might as well have been. Beside him, Hazel looked tiny, though she was probably taller than Brynn herself. While Paul greeted her with a curt nod, Hazel simply studied Brynn with exotically tilted brown eyes and remained silent.
Albert and Mary were from nearby St. Anthony, Idaho, and proved to be the first real surprise.
Though Sam introduced them as the alpha pair, she mentioned that Albert’s wife, Sally, had remained home to take care of a sick child. Brynn had always assumed alphas were all couples, but Mary seemed completely oblivious to the quiet, reserved man at her side.
In fact, Mary spent most of the introduction staring at Joe with a look that was far too familiar for Brynn’s liking.
The final couple was Cameron and Evelyn, the alphas from Arcadia, Kansas. Evelyn had gorgeous blonde hair and a perfect smile that looked a little condescending, but Brynn didn’t sense malice in the woman as much as a gentle doubt that a girl Brynn’s age could have anything useful to say. Cameron greeted her with a weary smile as he ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.
Sam reached the end of her introductions and nodded to Keith, who was leaning against the counter behind Paul and Hazel. “Keith’s already told them the basics of what happened, sweetheart. You can tell us as much as you’re able about what happened to you.”