Blaze, page 17
“Now, would you quit making this one nervous? He’s not a lot of fun when he’s crabby.” Ansel’s arms, wrapped around me, holding my arms to the side, squeeze me so tight it almost takes the oxygen out of my lungs.
“I love you too.” I squeeze him back with nowhere near the same physical strength.
Breaking the embrace with Ansel, I look at Finn, waiting for some indication of what happens next.
“Finn!” Cash steps out of a door down the block and waves. “Hey, Lena, can I borrow him?”
I wave back to him. “Only if you promise to give him back.”
Cash holds his hands together in front of his heart. “Shoot me dead if not, love. You can have him back. In one piece even.”
“You two okay?” Finn asks, but his feet are already walking toward Cash.
“We’ll be just fine,” Ansel answers before leaning against the hood of the car.
As I watch Finn walk away, the anticipation of Ansel’s disappointment has me wiggling my toes in my shoes. I can’t meet his eyes. Drawing deep breaths, I still can’t calm myself or the growing angsty lava-fueled wolf inside.
“So, Cade would want me to give you a stern talking to.” Ansel’s knuckles push against my shoulder, forcing my attention up to him. “I think you’re beating yourself up enough, so there’s nothin’ I can say that’ll make a difference.”
“I’m sorry, Ansel,” I answer, finally meeting his eyes.
He shrugs. “It’s alright. I’ve got a new asshole at home that I didn’t want to deal with. Gives Ben something to do and me a few more days of peace.”
When I drop my gaze and don’t say anything or even laugh at the antics of his life back home, it raises suspicion for him.
“Oh, Lena.” Ansel reaches forward and lifts my chin back toward him. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine. Just this damn feral wolf. Does it get better? Easier?” I try to brush it off.
Ansel shakes his head. “I don’t know that ya should be worried about if it gets better or not. I think you need to decide what it is that works for you.”
“Ugh,” I huff. “I know you’re right. It . . . just . . . does Harry feel like a ball of fire?”
Ansel furrows his eyebrows. “No? He kinda feels like a wolf?” Scratching his head, Ansel thinks through how to explain his relationship with his wolf, Harbinger. “It’s like.” He blows a raspberry and tries again. “It’s like when you don’t speak the same language as someone. They want something from you, but you don’t understand, and instead of trying to communicate with it, you’re left to guess.”
I nod. It parallels. The minute I do something or embrace something that isn’t what my wolf wants, the feralness returns.
Ansel covers his mouth with his hand before pulling it away. “Lena, I really like Finn. It probably doesn’t matter at this point what I think.”
“It’s always going to matter what you think,” I assure him.
The way Ansel gives his approval of Finn warms my heart. Ansel’s always been my safe space. The one person I can always go to. He’s helped me keep Deacon alive and kept me sane when Cade’s been gone. Knowing Ansel understands me so well and that he likes Finn is another added pebble to the bucket of reassurances I’ve been collecting.
He smiles while putting his hair up. “Good. Now, let’s go see if I can screw up a whole bunch of the projects they’ve got going on. I’ve been banished from the docks. Apparently, you can’t be friends with the harbor master.”
“You do know the O’Briens are criminals, right?” I ask, hoping this isn’t news to him.
Ansel rolls his eyes. “Well, obviously. Who would need to sell that many fire extinguishers? Though, those are a really weird thing to smuggle.”
I don’t correct him. Either he’s joking to look innocent, or he truly doesn’t see the correlation, but it’s not for me to correct.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything at all to eat?” the current home’s occupant offers.
“Oh, no, thank you.” I smile, not about to offend someone by not liking what’s offered to me.
I can’t keep all the pack members straight. I’ve met so many people. They barge into each other’s homes and call and shout to one another. It’s such a tight community but still holds a bar of respect. We’ve met no less than fifty people and made over two hundred, mostly small fixes in the last six hours.
The one constant, though, is that everyone makes it a point to tell me how much Finn means to them and how kind he is. I constantly look for him in the threadbare bit of bond I’ve found and can understand. Everything they say makes me appreciate him a little bit more.
Ansel comes down off the step stool he was on. “Right, that fixes the light fixture. What else you have?”
“Well, I mean, the bedroom . . .” She heavy hints with a slow blink, stepping toward him. The woman’s hand finds its way to his chest, and she continues. “I think maybe you could come back and fix what I’ve got going on in there tonight. I wouldn’t want to hog you.”
Ansel’s been hit on a few dozen times, but my cousin is very particular, albeit diverse, in his interest in women. Watching with bated breath, I can’t decide if he will or won’t take her up on it.
“As much as I’d love to, I don’t believe we’re staying here that late this evening. Something about a red-eye with our names on it.” Ansel places his hand over hers and pulls it away, giving it a gentle squeeze.
Cash’s frame darkens the doorway, and he coughs before announcing, “Lena, your mate is out there and ready to get going.”
My heart flutters just thinking about Finn.
“Well, that’ll be it.” Ansel nods, letting the woman’s hand go.
Back down a hallway and a flight of stairs, we’re on the street level of an apartment building, and Finn’s leaning against the car, phone in hand.
Ours, my wolf whispers, lunging forward, demanding we get to him as fast as possible.
Finn slides his phone back into his pocket before wrapping me in a hug. He whispers in my ear, “Sorry for taking so long. Let’s get you to Revecca so you can get your wolf put back together. Then we’ll head back home. Thalia is very concerned about some paintings you promised her.”
“You’ll get sick of me in painting mode and doing a shit job of taking care of myself,” I warn him. Fuck, how am I going to get this done? It’s not that I forgot, it’s that it wasn’t a priority. But really, who, as a hobby artist, gets a painting in the Smithsonian?
“No, faolan.” His tone goes to that of his dominance. “I’ll be there to make sure you take care of yourself. It’s my duty and privilege to do so.”
Yes. Yes, please. My wolf swoons.
I don’t have a chance to answer him.
“Okay, can I drive?” Ansel’s voice is firm but still pitches a question at the end.
I pull back from Finn’s arms to look between him and Ansel.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” Finn answers quickly.
“Let him drive.” I cock my head at Finn and smile. “Even if it’s just around the block.”
Scrubbing his hand down his face, Finn concedes before handing over the keys. “No right turns on red. No left turns on red. Just . . . don’t turn on red.”
“Got it. Gas still on the right?” Ansel asks, playing dumb, and snatches the keys out of his hand.
“I’m going to regret this.” Finn sighs.
Chapter 27
Finn
Ansel drives extremely well for an American abroad. He doesn’t absolutely terrify me like when I’ve been with the younger guys as they’re driving. After a quick trip down the road and back, I agree he’s safe enough to drive to the warehouse.
We’re halfway there when Lena pipes up from the back seat. “How did it go when wolves came out in Ireland? I mean, they were out to the world from the United States. But there haven’t been any laws about us here?”
“Government is full of them. It’s why business and getting around laws is easier for the pack.” I wouldn’t normally tell our secrets to outsiders, but there’s no harm with the two of them.
Once he pulls into the warehouse parking lot, Ansel goes so far as to back the car into the space at the end of the row of vehicles. He gives me a nod before turning the engine off.
We pile out of the car, and I bring Lena around to the front-end bumper.
“I can only go as far as the loading and receiving end of the warehouse. I’m not allowed behind closed doors up to the office and quarters. But I’ll make sure you’re with someone safe,” I inform her.
“Finn!” Magnus shouts from the bay doors across the space all the way from the other side of the warehouse before we even get to the big door on our side.
“He’s really crabby,” Ansel acknowledges from behind me.
“I’ll be fine.” Lena follows me around the line of the cars toward the warehouse. “Worse comes to worse, I’ll stay with Ansel.”
Truthfully, I’d forgotten he was there. Worry for Lena’s safety became more important than occupying him, but walking into the potential powder keg of the warehouse, I appreciate his presence once again.
Stepping through the open bay door to the warehouse, I turn to Lena. “Stay out here for a little bit. Let me see what’s going on?” I ask of her, not wanting to let her out of my sight, but who knows what Magnus is up to.
Lena yawns before leaning against Ansel. “Nice to get some refreshing air, if only for a little bit.”
“Finnie!”
My muscles tense at the voice that’s disgustingly engraved in my brain like nails on a chalkboard. It seems training only goes so far, and my absence destroyed all my rules for her.
Orla comes running toward me with her impractical shoes.
When she gets within a meter of me, I give her a stern look, and she comes to a complete stop.
She steps forward, testing the waters.
“There’s no reason for you to be speaking to me, Orla.”
“Finnie, I just miss you so much.” She plays with her hair in an attempt to look innocent.
The air of the warehouse changes as the sound of two more footsteps approach from behind. The uncontrollable nature of Lena’s wolf is on full blast, and while I’m focused on Lena and how I’m going to take down her rage, Orla steps forward.
A low growl starts behind me.
“Orla,” I correct her again, “you don’t want to touch me.”
“But Finnie, we used to have so much fun together.” She says that ridiculous pet name and uses such soft tones.
I can practically feel the bile rising in my stomach.
The back of my coat shifts, and I barely register the movement until Lena enters my peripheral vision. I reach for her, but Lena’s too small and too fast.
My ears ring with the sound of the gunshot.
I swallow and shake my head, trying to clear it.
Orla screams, further exasperating my problem.
I grab the gun and take it out of Lena’s hand.
Gunfire on top of a powder keg.
With the clicks of safeties coming off guns, Magnus reacts, jumping over the nearest table and getting closer to the two of us.
I pull Lena tight against me.
“Christ almighty.” Magnus gets closer, and I toss him the firearm.
Quack comes rushing through the door, straight to Orla. Blood is pooling around her on the ground.
I try to keep my snarling little mate against my chest, but she fights against my arms.
“Get her under control, Finn, or I will,” Magnus cautions.
“Kathleen, this doesn’t end well,” I whisper into her ear. “I need you to stop. Please.”
Orla screams again as Quack touches her.
Lena snarls, but her body stills against mine. I don’t dare let her go. She’s clearly unhinged.
“She doesn’t die from this,” Ansel says calmly.
A second later, Orla screams again, and Quack scolds her. “It’s a flesh wound. Orla, she shot you in the thigh. It went clean through. You’ll be fine.”
“This would have never happened if O’Mahoney did what Petrov instru —” Orla cuts herself off.
Magnus whips his head toward her. “Take her downstairs.”
A traitor. For how long? I want answers just as badly as Magnus does. In the past, it would have been me to take her downstairs and force it out of her, but it’s not my place now.
“You need that wolf fixed.” Magnus points to the two of us and gets a mischievous, shit-starting gleam in his eye. “I can’t, in good conscience, let you walk around shooting anyone who gets close to Finn.”
Lena shrugs in my arms. “Unless you’ve a way to get Revecca here, it’ll have to wait.”
Raising his eyes to the office space above us, he gives a coy smile.
Rules are rules. I can’t go with Lena upstairs to the office. But I’m terrified to let her go.
“I’ll behave,” Lena grumbles.
Chapter 28
Lena
Okay, shooting Orla was probably stupid, but I can genuinely say I feel better now. It’s Cade’s theory to go out and take a few shots at the people making you mad, but usually, he means photos of people at the range. After he gets over being angry, Cade will be disappointed I missed, but it’s not like I could line up a shot. I’m out of practice.
With an angry brother-in-law behind me, I’m escorted through the hallways I was in only a few days before. Magnus opens the door to his office and ushers me to the second door at the back leading upstairs. He closes the door behind me, letting me go the rest of the way up to his apartment on my own.
As I step into Magnus’s apartment, it’s homier than I was expecting.
“Who’s dead?” Revecca cocks her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she walks out of the corridor from what must lead to Magnus’s bedroom.
I roll my eyes. “I shot Orla. She’s not dead yet, but she said the names O’Mahoney and Petrov, and now she’s getting taken to the basement, whatever that’s code for.”
“I want to shoot one. That’s not fair.” Revecca huffs, walking over to the large supervisory-style windows, and looks down. “Though, I’d probably pick Aoife. She’s the most odious woman alive.” Revecca turns back to me and looks me up and down before giving me her astute observation. “You’re ready to have her fixed, then.”
“Yeah. I tried. I suck,” I huff. I shouldn’t have expected this to be an easy conversation.
The firestorm of what is my wolf freezes, feeling her eyes on us.
Revecca motions for me to sit in one of the chairs in Magnus’s sitting space.
“I’ll do it.” Revecca sits across from me in a wingback chair. She crosses one knee over the other, regally perched in the chair like a benevolent queen on a throne.
“But?” I wait for the cost to drop.
There’s no way this isn’t some sort of exchange. The very few men in the warehouse brave enough to talk about her do so like she’s Queen Mab. I can only dream of what she wants from me.
“I need your gift for a few days,” Revecca states, flat and straightforward, no conniving or talking in circles.
Her request, however, tracks. Of course she’ll want something of power. But will I get it back? Rather than getting snippy, I hold my tongue, waiting like Cade and Finn would to get more information.
“I’ll borrow it.” She pauses, making sure I’m listening. “Like I did with Deacon’s, and in a few days, it’ll return to you like it was never gone.”
Too good to be true. Hyperfocused, I try to find her bluff. “How do I know that’s true?”
Revecca shakes her head before cocking it to the side. “You can’t know for sure, but I wouldn’t bother spending time fixing your wolf only for her to fall apart again.” Revecca pulls her hair to one side, relaxing back into the chair. “That would be ridiculous. Your wolf needs your gift. I don’t make the rules. It shouldn’t be a surprise to me that you know nothing about what is going on. Is it true you don’t even know you’re the spare heir?”
“Spare heir?”
“The Pricolici can only take up residence in a submissive wolf and will take the oldest submissive in the bloodline who hasn’t gone into heat. If my grandmother would have died two days later, she would have been yours.” Revecca educates me, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Did I make a trip from home for nothing, or should we finish this?”
I open my mouth, only to close it again before shaking my head. I’m not entirely sure how to feel about that. I could have been the Pricolici. But that’s a later problem.
Shooting Orla was probably proof that I still have no control. Maybe that’ll never happen. I don’t have the patience or the time to get my wolf under control on my own.
My hands are tied, so I nod my head. “Let’s do it.”
“There is a side effect of doing this,” Revecca cautions.
“I’m not going to like this, am I?” My heart thunders in my chest.
Revecca doesn’t address my statement. “I have to free your wolf from you for a moment. That will reset her and, with the reset, disintegrate the bond you’ve grown with Finn. But truly, if things are as they appear, it won’t be an issue. Your mark will fade in about two weeks, and you’ll be able to be re-marked as soon as it’s faded.”
Do I ask for a minute to talk to Finn? My phone feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket. I know where the door is, so it wouldn’t be hard to go back downstairs and talk to him first.
Instead, I agree to do what I came here to do: fix my wolf. “That’s fine.”
Revecca holds up her hand, stopping me from saying more in order to add, “You’ll find that once you’re not bonded with Finn, Alpha commands will be as you’ve been used to them. Stronger and completely unavoidable.”
What’s new? Magnus’s command earlier didn’t feel usual, sure. But Cade and I have an agreement, and Ansel hates doing it, so it would just be Finn. There aren’t other alpha wolves in my daily life I would have to worry about.
