Seeking Pack Redemption (6 page)

“David?”

“
Thea
. I—I—”

The monster
himself came striding into the room, his displeasure not completely masked by
his mocking smile. “Tsk. Tsk. You should know by now that I don’t approve of my
slaves revolting.”

“Let us
go,” David demanded, his fierce tone at odds with his shivering frame.

“You can
leave anytime. But she stays.”

Confusion
crossed David’s face, but
Thea
whispered, “No,”
because she knew what Roderick meant.

The most
horrifying part was David never even raised a hand to defend himself, but then
again, how could he protect himself from . . . himself? He partially shifted
into a beast that no longer made her
scream,
she’d
seen them so often. Fingers tipped in claws, without a sound of protest or even
an attempt to fight, David tore his own throat open. Blood gushed and spurted,
torrents of it that sent her to her knees in numb disbelief.

I hated him . . . but I never wanted him to die.

Roderick held
out his hand to capture the spray. He raised a bloody finger to his mouth and
licked it. She gagged.

“Wasn’t
that fun?” he cackled.

Thea
didn’t answer, couldn’t because instead of cowering, fire burned
inside her. David’s death, while horrifying, didn’t frighten her as intended.
Instead it bolstered her resolve to escape. There was no one left to save her
now, but herself. She’d not even realized a part of her secretly hoped David
would snap out of it and rescue her. Forget that. She could rely only on
herself.

But I need to plan. There has to be a way to
escape.
A way back to the real world, freedom, and the cops.
Actually,
forget the men in
blue,
someone needed to send her in
the direction of a vampire hunter.
Someone with a sharp stake
and holy water to kill the monster that stole her life.
Someone strong enough to
fight him and send him to hell, where he belongs.

*
* * *

It took
them a day to actually track down the hillbillies. Their home-turf advantage
aided them in hiding for longer than
Jaxon’s
usual
prey. Idiots with only half a brain between them, they should have left the
woods entirely.
Lycans
with a purpose and a grudge
made the worst enemies.

His new
companion, Trent—so strange to hunt with others after all these months
alone—found them and made them talk, after they’d finished screaming. But
they didn’t learn much other than a guy with freaky eyes paid them to lure
folks to their cabin. Once they had a victim, whom they were told to shoot with
silver and tranquilize, they put up a flag on a tree and left. When they
returned the next day, the body would be gone and a bottle of something
alcoholic left behind.

Hoping to
trap the hillbillies’ patron, Darren ran the flag up the tree, and while they
hid and waited, nothing came to take the bait. Or so
Jaxon
assumed. Not all of Roderick’s minions acted liked red-eyed, rabid dogs.
Jaxon
himself acted normal for weeks before his ticking
mental bomb exploded. It tempered his view toward the guys he’d befriended.
I hope I don’t have to kill them.
But he
would if he thought for a moment Roderick had his claws in them.

The
hillbillies proved a dead end and nothing came out to play, so they went back
to the motel for a shower and to regroup.

“Dumb and
dumber were useless,” Marc quipped.

Trent
paced. “We already guessed Roderick was paying them to lure victims for him,
but even they weren’t sure if he was holed up in that camp or not.”

“So what’s
our next step?” Darren asked in his usual quiet tone.

Leaning
back in a chair and trying to appear casual,
Jaxon
drawled, “Time to go meet the beast. Or his minions, at any rate.”

“What
happened to ‘there’s too many of them to fight’?”

“There is.
Which is why I will act as a rabbit to draw them out while you three slip
inside the camp, take care of the remaining rogues, and save the girl.”

“You
forgot to include rescue my brother.”

Jaxon
knew his gaze hardened. “I’ve already explained
,
if David’s in that camp, then he’s lost to you. Be prepared for that.”

“You
escaped.”

“Did I?”
Jaxon
flashed a wan smile.

“I’ll save
him,” Trent growled. “But as for your plan, what makes you think the rogues
will give chase? Won’t this Roderick have them on a tight leash?”

“His
control is weaker during the day while he sleeps. Taunt the wolves enough, and
some of them are guaranteed to come out and play. I just don’t know how many.
Are you prepared to kill if you need to?”

Trent
shared a look with his friends,
then
burst out
laughing. “Buddy, we’ve never shied from violence, if that’s what you’re
asking. We’ll do what needs to be done.”

“Then we go,
first thing in the morning.”

If they survived the night.
Jaxon
knew Roderick was
aware of his presence. What surprised him was that the vampire hadn’t come
after him yet or sent his minions. What game did the monster play? Was he
counting on
Jaxon
coming to him, knowing his need for
vengeance?

I won’t stop until he’s dead.
Until
Bailey is safe.
He wanted that more than anything. Hope for forgiveness
didn’t even enter the equation. How could he expect it when he would never
forgive himself? But what he could give her and the pack he betrayed was a
future free of Roderick.
The right to live without fear.

This
shining goal was the only thing that kept him going, from diving off a higher
cliff in the hopes of never waking again.

Once the
most carefree of wolves with a joke for everything,
Jaxon
had changed. Turned hard. Unrelenting.

He
wondered if his old
packmate
Wyatt, who’d ever
despaired of him taking anything seriously, would like the new him. Would he
approve of the sober wolf he’d become?

God, he
missed his brothers, family by virtue of friendship and not blood.
Wyatt, so cynical; Gavin, so strong and willing to do the right
thing; and Parker, the gentle giant with the measured thoughts.
He
missed the camaraderie. The knowledge that he wasn’t alone and someone had his
back. Cast from the pack,
Jaxon
drifted alone.

In his
adjoining room, he fell into a restless sleep, entering into his familiar
nightmare, the horror of his actions overtaking him like it had every night
since it happened.

Welcome to the origin of his shame.
A dark cell in a hidden place.
A room formed of cement
blocks, mold, dust, and terror.
How did I get here?
His thoughts were muddled. A shake of his head didn’t clear the
cobwebs, but he did become aware of a soft susurration that came not from the
room but his head. He clutched his skull as the whisper turned into a blast of
pain. Amidst the agonizing attack on his mind he heard a chuckled, “Welcome,
betrayer.”

“No.” He murmured the word. “No. No! NO!” The cry rose
in intensity until he shouted it.
I am dreaming. I have to be.
Or he’d gone crazy. What else to explain the voice in his head?

A rustling of fabric froze his limbs. Still
crouched he pivoted, noting for the first time the pile in the dark corner. A
focus of his senses and he could hear someone breathing.
I’m not alone.

But who shared his prison? He inhaled deeply. Oh,
no. The scent emanating from the limp form made his heart tighten. What had he
done?

Images flashed in his mind as a floodgate hiding
memories opened. He saw himself at the campsite so long ago with Bailey, the
night she turned for the first time and attacked him. The night Roderick
invaded his mind and made him his unknowing minion. Remembering made him pound
the floor in frustration. How could he not have known the evil he harbored
inside? Why couldn’t he have fought harder?

Scrabbling on all floors, he hurried to Bailey’s
side. Kneeling by her, he held in a howl at the unavoidable evidence of his
betrayal. “Bailey?” The uncertainty in his voice went well with his shame.

With a flutter of her lashes, she woke and stared
at him. He flinched at the fury in her gaze.

“You!” She spat the word at him as she scrambled out
of reach. “How could you do this?”

“Bailey—I—”

Engulfed in misery, he couldn’t force any further words
past his lips. Couldn’t ask for forgiveness, because he didn’t deserve it. He’d
hand-delivered her to a monster. He deserved her hatred and anything else she
chose to give him. Short of death, it wouldn’t be enough.

“You betrayed your pack,
Jaxon
.
Betrayed me,” she cried, and he recoiled at each of her thrown accusations.
Daggers straight to his heart.

She glared at him, expectant and deserving of an
answer. “I didn’t want to,” he moaned, clutching at his hair and tugging it.
“He got in my head. I had no choice. He controlled me. Oh, God, I wish Wyatt
had killed me like he kept threatening. I should have died that night in the
park.”

“The night I attacked you?”

He nodded. A dormant
Lycan
raised
in the human world, Bailey’s wolf didn’t come
out to play until she slept with her mate Gavin and the full moon forced her
beast out. Mad with pain and terror, she’d attacked
Jaxon
.
Not that he blamed her. The change wasn’t an easy thing to handle and with her
unexpected morph, even worse. “Once Wyatt left to look for you, Roderick came
out of the darkness. I tried to fight. I really did. But I was too weak, and he
got into my head.” He grimaced in remembered pain.

“Oh,
Jaxon
.” Her tone
softened.
Sweet Bailey, how she deserved better than what
he’d done.

“I didn’t even remember until I woke up in this
cell,” he admitted with a mournful sigh. The monster had hidden his secret
well. “I wondered why I kept dreaming of red eyes. I swear I didn’t know what
he did to me. As soon as you said you were pregnant, I wasn’t me anymore. It
was like I was a passenger while he drove. And he’d had me stash things, like
drugs, to knock you and the guards at the gate out.” His shoulders shook as his
head dropped to hide his tears of shame. “I wish I’d known. I would have killed
myself before I hurt you or the pack,” he whispered.

Sliding over to him, she put her arm around his
shaking shoulders. “I know,
Jaxon
. He hurt me, too.
And then made me forget.”

“What does he want?”

She placed her free hand on her stomach. “He wants
my child.”

“But why?”

“Because he thinks my child is the key for him to
build an army to destroy the packs.”

“That makes no sense.”

“I know, but don’t forget, Roderick isn’t all
there.”

“Tell me about it. I thought Wyatt was the coldest
killer I know. This guy makes him look like a docile bunny rabbit.”

“How long have we been here?”

“I don’t know.
At least a day.
Maybe more. I remember driving for a long time before we got here.” Long enough
it would be hard to track them.

“Wherever we are, we need to get out.”

Jaxon
sprang up and went to the door, which of course didn’t
budge when he yanked on it. He pounded on it, frustrated and angry, the
metallic echo dying slowly until silence reigned.
I need to get her out of
here.

“Save your strength,” she cautioned. “We’ll need
to wait until he opens the door before we can make our move.”

How optimistic of her. Resigned,
Jaxon
leaned against a cement wall and slid down.
I failed her.
Because of him, she’d endure torture, pain,
and who knew what else at the hands of the vampire. He kept his gaze away from
her. He didn’t deserve to feast on her beauty.
To bask in her
regard.
Why couldn’t she have kept staring at him with hate? Why did she
have to be so damned nice? He deserved to be whipped. Beaten. Screamed at.
Anything to punish him.

She ignored his body language, which screamed, “Stay
away!” and sidled over until she sat beside him. He flinched when she laid her
head on his shoulder. How could she stand to touch him after what he’d done?

“You know, I had your claiming all planned,” she
said softly.