A Pack of Love and Hate Read online

  The black Mercedes SUV bumped along the short dirt driveway, jostling me out of my morose deliberations. Once we were parked, I reached for the door handle.

  “I know you hate my guts right now, but I didn’t force you and August apart to annoy you, Ness. My life’s on the line, and I need a hundred percent of your attention.”

  I side-eyed my Alpha. Like I would believe that. He’d been willing to give up his life minutes ago.

  “Do you have any food?” I asked, forcing the topic away from August.

  Liam’s tense expression stuttered. “Yeah. Matt’s mom sent me lots of stuff a couple days ago.”

  “Good. Because I’m starving.”

  I got out of the car and walked to the front door of his sleek one-storied cabin with the glassed-in living room. I didn’t tap my foot as I waited for him, even though he was taking his grand old time. He checked his phone and typed out a message before finally making his way to me. He unlocked the door and gestured for me to go ahead of him. My nostrils flared at the scent of mint lacing the air, which had once felt like silk against my senses, but now felt like sandpaper.

  “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll get the food.”

  I crossed over the cowhide rug and sank into his brown leather couch. As he banged around in his kitchen, I checked my phone for messages. I had plenty, but none from August.

  I opened one of Sarah’s. The first read: WTF?

  The second: You volunteered to be his Second! Are you insane?!

  The third: Why did you leave with Liam?

  The third: Call me.

  The fourth: I’m worried. Please call.

  I was touched she was concerned considering she’d lost her uncle today. I should’ve been the furthest thing from her mind. I pressed on her phone number, then held the phone to my ear.

  Big mistake.

  Her voice poured out of the receiver so shrilly I winced. “What the hell, Ness? You’re going to duel Cassandra Morgan? And Justin? Did you see how he was looking at you? Like he wants to kill you, that’s how he was looking at you! And knowing him, he’ll try! I know I said I wanted Liam to take over the packs, but—”

  “Sarah!” I spoke her name sharply to make her stop yelling. “Your mom was Julian’s Second, and she’s fine.”

  “But Julian’s not! He’s not fine! He’s . . .” A sob lurched out of her. “He’s dead. Julian is dead.” Another sob. “Oh, God . . . I think I’m going to puke again.” Her words were muffled, as though she’d clapped a hand over her mouth.

  “Is someone with you?”

  “Yeah. Robbie and Margaux. We’re going to the . . .” She sniffled. “To our old headquarters.” She blew her nose. “We’re holding a vigil for Julian.”

  “Oh, sweetie.”

  “I can’t believe he’s dead. I can’t—”

  A thought occurred to me. “Sarah, did your pack have a stock of Sillin?” The word tasted bitter, because the anti-shifting drug had caused so much harm.

  First at the Alpha trials, when Everest blackmailed me into entering the last duel so he could steal the Boulder’s stock from HQ. Then, when he’d reneged on his deal to sell the pills to the Creeks, and Alex Morgan drove my cousin’s Jeep off the road.

  The night I decrypted his last voicemail and found the Boulder’s stock—minus one packet—under the loose floorboard of my childhood home, I hadn’t felt any pride or relief. Just despondency, because it had been too late . . . my cousin was already gone forever.

  Werewolves possessed magic, but resurrecting the dead wasn’t part of our arsenal.

  Unless the fable Liam had told me of the wolf resurrecting her mate with a love bite was true, but I doubted fangs sinking into flesh could do much else than stop a heart. It was a pretty legend, nonetheless.

  “Robbie says we have some,” Sarah answered just as Liam walked out of his kitchen, toting two plates and silverware.

  He set everything down on his wrought-iron coffee table, then took the two bottles of water he’d secured underneath his arm and placed them on top of a huge glossy tome.

  “Before you go to the wake, can you grab them and hide them?” I asked Sarah.

  As he sat in the armchair across from me, he lifted an eyebrow.

  “We’ll go get them now,” Sarah said.

  “Thank you.”

  “If you need anything else, Ness, anything at all, call me.”

  I smiled in spite of the hellish day I’d had. In spite of the hellish days to come. “Is the wake open to other packs?”

  “If Cassandra shows up—” Sarah started.

  “I was asking because I’d like to come.”

  “Oh.” She paused. “You don’t need to, Ness.”

  “I never do anything I don’t want to do.”

  “You signed up to be Liam’s Second,” she said.

  The tendons in Liam’s neck strained against his tanned throat. Even though Sarah wasn’t on speakerphone, his hearing was sharp enough to hear her.

  “As crazy as it may sound, I wasn’t ready to see him die,” I replied softly.

  Liam rested his forearms on his knees, linked his fingers, and stared so hard at his knuckles that a vertical groove appeared between his eyebrows.

  After hanging up, I placed my phone face down on the coffee table. “I think it would be in good form for you to attend Julian’s wake, too.”

  His gaze jerked to mine. “You do realize they’re all Creeks now.”

  “They’re also human. Part human. Anyway, it was just a suggestion. Not an order.”

  Slowly, he nodded. “You’re right. I’ll accompany you.”

  “Good.”

  “So, Sillin, huh? You’re really convinced that’s how she defeated Julian?”

  I looked around the bright, clean room with all of its sharp angles and muted colors. Dust motes sparkled in a streak of sunlight. “Any chance your house is bugged?”

  “Cole did a sweep of it the other day. No listening devices or hidden cameras.”

  “I’m not convinced of how she cheated, just that she did.”

  “Then why didn’t Nora Matz signal foul play?”

  “Sillin is odorless. If Sandra ground it up into her body lotion—”

  “Cassandra.” When I frowned, he added, “You just called her Sandra.”

  Right. “Sandra’s what she called herself when she posed as a Red Creek Escort pimp.” I ran my lower lip between my teeth. Three little letters that had hidden her identity from me. I couldn’t figure out if she’d chosen the moniker for lack of creativity or in the hopes that I’d figure out who she was.

  “Your theory?”

  I picked at the frayed hem of my cutoffs. “She rubbed it into her skin, and when Julian bit her, it made him weaker.”

  “But Sillin doesn’t make us throw up.”

  He was right, but maybe mixed with lotion . . .

  “Besides, wouldn’t it have penetrated her bloodstream?”

  “Eventually.” I sighed. “I’d like to test my theory. Is the Sillin here?”

  “No.”

  “Where did you put it?”

  “Somewhere safe.”

  “Which is?”

  “Somewhere safe,” he repeated as though I hadn’t heard him the first time.

  I crossed my arms. “Which you’re going to keep me in the dark about?”

  “It’s better that I do.”

  “Because you still don’t trust me?”

  “I trust you.”

  “Then why won’t you tell me?”

  “Because the Creeks killed Everest over this drug.”

  “They killed him because he defaulted on his deal to sell it to them.”

  “The Creeks have more money than they could ever use. Especially if you factor in Aidan’s real estate contribution. I may hate the man, but he’s smart at business and has built an empire.” Liam unlinked his fingers and set his palms on his denim-clad knees. “They didn’t off your cousin because of a monetary loss.”

 
; A chill swept over me. So they really need Sillin . . . “And yet you were willing to fight her.”

  “I was ready to fight her because I know how the drug works.”

  “And I don’t?”

  He made a growly sound that had my shoulders squaring.

  “I took it for weeks, Liam. When I moved to LA, Mom forced me to ingest it every day to make my werewolf gene dormant.”

  “Then you know that once the pills are popped out of their packaging and exposed to air and heat, their effect wears off. That’s why we kept ours in a padlocked fridge.”

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “So if—and this is a huge if—Sillin was in Morgan’s bloodstream or on her skin, its effect would’ve diminished by the time I got around to fighting her.”

  I took in this information, filed it away.

  He tilted his head to the side. “You know what baffles me most about all of this? You’re always the first to proclaim that women are equal to men, yet a female Alpha defeats a male, and you’re convinced she cheated? Why is that?”

  My arms went lax, but since they were still knotted in front of my chest, they didn’t plummet against the couch. “Julian threw up.”

  “Yet his Second—who has absolutely no love for the Creek Alpha—didn’t signal foul play? Either Nora Matz is dumb as shit or you’re smart as fuck.”

  I watched his expression, watched it closely to know what his conclusion was.

  “Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I asked.

  “Like you don’t know what I’m thinking.”

  “I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

  His haggard face softened. “You always know what I’m thinking.” He looked down at his long fingers as he rubbed his knees. Back and forth. Back and forth. When he raised his gaze back to mine, he said, “If you were dumb as shit, I wouldn’t have accepted you as my Second . . . however enthralling you might be.” A heavy breath puffed out of him. “I know I suggested killing your father, Ness, but I’m the first person to admit how wrong it was. I sincerely hope that, someday, I’ll be half the man he was.”

  Liam hadn’t moved off the armchair, yet it felt as though he were kneeling beside me, repeatedly flicking my heart.

  “If you think I’m worth fighting for, then fuck, I’ll fight. Alongside you, I’ll fight. I’ll become a worthy Alpha. One that you will never”—his eyes bore into mine—“want to run from again. One who would never let you run again.”

  Silence settled between us.

  “I want your admiration, Ness. I might never get anything else from you, but I hope I’ll earn that much back.”

  Tears slickened my eyes.

  Because he’d brought up my father, I told myself. That was the reason for my tears. The only reason for them.

  Big fat lie. If that had been the only reason, I would’ve been able to keep my gaze on his, and I couldn’t.

  I studied the cowhide rug, discreetly running a knuckle along my cheeks, then took a fortifying breath and lifted my gaze. “How much are you going to pay me?”

  His piercing stare swept over my face. For a moment, he neither answered nor moved. Then he leaned back in the chair, crossed one foot over the other, and bounced his legs as though annoyed I’d brought up payment. “How much do you want?”

  “Five grand.”

  “Per week?”

  I blinked, whipping my gaze to his. “No. In total.”

  He stilled his legs. “I’ll give you five grand today and the sum of my choice when we win the duel.”

  “Liam, I don’t need—”

  “Without wanting to sound cocky, I have more money than I could ever spend already. If I win, well those zeroes are going to add up.”

  “Good for you and for the pack, but that’s not why I’m doing this.”

  The steadiness of his gaze was unnerving. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I already told you why.”

  “Tell me again.”

  I raked my hand through my hair. “Because I don’t want you to die.”

  “Why don’t you want me to die? Don’t I deserve it?”

  “Don’t worry. I’ve tortured you plenty in my thoughts for calling me a traitor.”

  He snorted, and crazy as it sounded, I smiled.

  How far we’d come, him and me.

  How far we still had to go, though.

  I took my plate of food and balanced it on my knees. “Can we be clear about one thing? This isn’t a game to me. I want to save your life, and the reason I want to save it is because you don’t seem to care what happens to it.”

  That sobered him up.

  I bit into a chunk of cheese. “I have some leftover Sillin from LA. I haven’t refrigerated it, but it’s still in the packaging. You think it’s still effective?”

  He picked up his plate and cut into his steak. “If it’s from the same batch you slipped my father, then yes, it’s still effective.”

  Guilt spread through me. Heath hadn’t deserved to live, yet I regretted having a hand in his death. “You think Morgan will release Julian’s body to his family?”

  “Not if she poisoned him.” He uncapped his water bottle and took a swig. “Unless she was certain the Sillin was no longer in his blood.”

  “How long would that take?”

  “Depends on the dose.”

  “I guess it doesn’t actually matter,” I ended up saying. “Once we test the Sillin out ourselves, we’ll know whether she used it or not.”

  2

  After discussing other ways Cassandra Morgan might’ve won the duel—Sillin-free ways—Liam dropped me off in front of the apartment I shared with Jeb on the top floor of a two-story house.

  Before I could shut the car door, Liam said, “Matt will be over in the morning. Probably around 6:30.”

  I frowned.

  “I want you to start building muscle and stamina.”

  “Why do I need Matt for that?”

  Liam draped his hand over the back of the seat I’d just vacated. “He’s going to take you running.”

  “I can take myself running.”

  He smirked. “I’m sure you can. But in case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot more wolves in town.”

  “You think they might attack me?”

  His eyes blackened. “No. I don’t think they’d risk such a tactless move, but you’re not running around in the woods alone. Come to think of it, Lucas should move back in with you, or you could”—he ran his hand through his hair—“stay at my place.”

  However much Lucas had grown on me, he was not moving into my two-bedroom apartment. “I have Jeb. Besides, what sort of message would me needing a babysitter send out?” I didn’t even bother bringing up Liam’s other suggestion. “They already don’t take me very seriously. Don’t add to it.”

  “Who’s they?”

  “Pretty much everyone.” When he opened his mouth, I tossed in, “I’ll be going to Pine HQ around seven.”

  He scrutinized my face a long moment before saying, “Okay. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “I have my license now.” I flashed him a smile that he didn’t reciprocate. “I’ll get myself there.”

  His eyes clouded, as though he wasn’t pleased with my budding independence. Or was my arrangement of getting there on my own not to his liking?

  The last and only time I’d gone to the Pines’ headquarters was for Margaux and Robbie Matz’s engagement, and it hadn’t been to celebrate them. I’d gone to secure an alliance with Julian because my cousin had convinced me I’d killed Heath and that the pack would avenge their Alpha’s death by ending my life.

  I’d gotten so much more than Julian’s help that day. I’d gotten a confession which had overturned my world: the name of the man who’d murdered my father . . . a man who was still very much alive even though my pack had claimed otherwise.

  My heels clicked on the stone staircase that was bare of rose petals and votive candles tonight. Steeling my spin
e, I stepped past the open doors. The high-ceilinged atrium lined with French windows on one end and dark, wainscoted walls on the other was filled with black-clad grievers. Even the orchid arrangement by the propped picture of Julian was a shade of purple so dark it looked black.

  I tried to replace the last image I had of Julian with the blown-up tanned and expressive face staring back at me from within the gilt frame. He would’ve loved that frame, so golden and ornately carved. The man had such a weakness for expensive things.

  My gaze surfed over the room until I spotted Sarah. She was opening one of the French windows overlooking the labyrinthian hedges that separated HQ from the deceased’s pale-stone mansion.

  As I forded through the copse of wary wolves, I offered condolences to the mourners. From the scrunched brows and skeptic looks, I surmised few believed I was being genuine.

  Oh well. I wasn’t here to convince them; I was here for Sarah.

  When I finally reached her, I tapped her shoulder, and she spun around, puffy brown eyes growing wide in surprise. Apparently, she hadn’t put much stock into me coming. She hooked her arms around my neck and hugged me tight.

  “Twice in a day. What’s the world coming to?” I said into her blonde mane.

  She pressed away from me. “Wh-what?”

  “You hugging me. That’s twice.”

  Her lips quirked up in a smile. “Don’t get used to it.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of getting used to anything around here. Everything’s always shifting: alliances, hearts, Alphas . . . people.”

  She cocked an eyebrow. “Did you just make a joke?”

  “Maybe. But don’t get used to it,” I said, using her own words. “I’m not a very funny person.”

  Her smile grew a little wider, and then it froze as her gaze locked on a place over my shoulder. She tilted her head toward the entrance.

  I turned and saw Lucas and Liam making their way toward us. Both wore black—where Liam had donned a button-down over dark slacks, Lucas sported a T-shirt over jeans.