A Pack of Vows and Tears Page 23

  “Too late now,” he snapped. “I’m sure August will appreciate your little princess dress.”

  That stunned me into silence. But only for a minute. “Don’t be a jerk, Liam.”

  He side-eyed me. “Me? A jerk?” He barked out a dark laugh. “I think you got me and your mate mixed up.” He pronounced the word mate as though it were something rotten.

  Anger welled up behind my breastbone. “How is August the jerk? He’s not the one who said I backst—”

  “He challenged my authority in front of the pack! I can’t even put him back in his place verbally or physically, because he’s your mate.” He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, are you and him a thing now?”

  I shook my head, not as an answer, but because he was acting crazy.

  “If you and him fuck, that’s it for you. You’re stuck with him for life, and from what Sienna says, he’s a boring lay.”

  I blanched, and then I flushed with anger and glared at the low buildings smearing past our window, wondering why Liam had to be so crude and petty. I wasn’t the one who’d jumped into bed with someone else the second I was unattached.

  He jerked the car to a stop at a red light. “The crazy thing is how much shit I’m getting from my buddies about this. It’s not like I strayed, yet I’m the bad guy.”

  I was gripping the tulle as though it were a stress ball. Didn’t do squat for my stress level. “I know you’re hurt—”

  “I’m not hurt! I am fucking furious!” He slapped his steering wheel. “You toss me to the curb at the first mistake I make. I’m not perfect. No one is! Not even you.”

  My knuckles whitened, and my eyesight sharpened, but I pushed back my wolf before she could rip through my little princess dress.

  “I slept with Tammy because she stroked the ego you’d crushed.” The volume of his voice had dropped, but it still rang too loudly in the car.

  Tammy. Tamara. Why was I not surprised?

  Had he ever stopped seeing her? Why was I torturing myself with this? It didn’t matter.

  She didn’t matter.

  What they did didn’t matter.

  “How am I supposed to be Alpha if I’m made to feel like a piece of shit?” he asked.

  I didn’t make a sound. I barely breathed. My spine tingled, and again, I shoved my wolf back.

  The light turned green, and Liam flattened the gas pedal, weaving between cars like a Formula 1 pilot.

  “She was just a means to an end,” he added, so low I almost missed his words.

  I still didn’t say anything.

  He pulled to another violent stop, this time on the side of the road that led up to the inn. “Say something,” he yelled. “Shout at me! Do something! Tell me what a prick I am, slap me, tell me what a bitch Tamara is!” His violent words were limned with desperation.

  Is that why he’d taken her to his bed? To test my affection? Or was it to stroke his ego like he’d said two minutes ago?

  He reached over and clasped my shoulders, pivoting me toward him. “Aren’t you even a little jealous? Don’t you care about me?” he whispered, his powerful voice faltering.

  “You broke my heart, Liam.” I was incredibly calm, and it wasn’t even an act. I didn’t feel vindictive. “I let you in, and you wrecked me. Is that what you want to hear?” I licked my lips that felt as dry as my eyes.

  His hands slid down my arms, gripped my biceps as though to keep me from falling away from him. But I’d already fallen away from him.

  “Are you and August—”

  “There is no me and August.”

  Liam’s eyes flashed with something—hope. Like a lit match, it spread and made the air inside the car crackle.

  “But there is also no me and you, Liam.” One-by-one, I pried his fingers off my arms. “You have to let me go,” I said softly. “You have to let me go.”

  Red handprints remained where he’d squeezed.

  “I will obey you like I vowed, but don’t ask me to love you.”

  He scrubbed a hand through his gelled hair. A hardened lock fell into his shiny eyes. “Ness . . . ”

  “Please, Liam, let me go,” I murmured.

  I touched his cheek, smooth from a fresh shave, the only soft part on his body. The rest of him was all hard lines. He swallowed, and his jaw muscles juddered under my palm. He covered my hand with his and kept both anchored to his face as we sat on the side of the road, the inn just out of reach but already in sight.

  “Let’s get tonight over with,” I said, slipping my palm out from underneath his.

  He lowered his eyelids, then lifted them back up, drawing in a long breath through his nostrils. Or maybe he was drawing in a lungful of courage. The Creeks’ reputation was so dire that I worked hard on quieting my own nerves as we slowly made our way up the hill toward them.

  40

  Liam parked up front, behind a compact row of cars that ranged in fanciness, from gleaming Cayennes to rusted Civics. The sight of rust reassured me I wasn’t out of my depths, that I’d be able to relate to some of these shifters.

  We walked toward the inn side by side, the earlier tension between us diffused. We were in no way relaxed, but that had nothing to do with our row and everything to do with the den of wolves we were about to enter.

  “Why do you think she asked to meet me specifically?” I asked.

  “You’re Everest’s cousin. You worked as an escort. Maybe she thinks you spied on a Creek or two.” Liam’s neck was a rigid column on the unyielding mantle of his shoulders.

  I must’ve gone slack-jawed, because Liam ran a knuckle under my chin as though to shut my mouth.

  “You didn’t, right?”

  I removed my chin from his fingers. “Spy on Creeks? No.”

  Car doors slammed shut, making me jump. Liam and I both turned to scan the lot. Lucas, Matt, August, and Cole were walking up from where they’d parked the pickup.

  Was it eight already? Had Liam and I spent an hour in his car? The sky was streaked with oranges and pinks, which told me they were early.

  “We didn’t feel right about you two going in without protection,” Matt said as he approached in a pair of black jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, both fitting snugly over his broad, ropy limbs.

  He’d made even less of an effort to dress up than Liam, which confirmed my earlier worries that I was way overdressed. The boys were like evergreens, and I was like that palm tree I apparently wanted in my dream house. I gripped the tulle, wishing I could transform it into a pair of jeans and a tank top.

  Lucas’s blue-eyed gaze skipped between Liam and me, as though trying to gauge from our postures where we ranked on the scale of love and hate. The shaggy-haired shifter must’ve noticed that only billowing smoke remained from our spat, because his features relaxed. Had he been expecting to have to pry my claws out of his Alpha’s skin?

  August’s face was a blank mask, but through the link, I felt his body thrumming with something, something that made him cross his arms, straining the fabric of the dark-olive Henley that matched his eyes.

  “Shall we go see what the great Creek Alpha wants?” Lucas gestured to the inn.

  Liam turned back toward the revolving doors, but Matt shoved him aside.

  “I’ll go in first,” the blond giant said.

  The doors spun, tossing the familiar scent of chimney smoke and potpourri at us, as well as the scent of musky sweat and damp fur. It smelled like the Creek delegation had traveled by paw instead of by foot and tire. Perhaps some had.

  Liam went in after Matt, then Lucas. Cole gestured for me to go, so I pressed my fingertips into the cool glass and pushed. I expected noise but was greeted with silence. The place was eerily quiet. No one stood behind the bell desk. No one roamed the hallways. No footfalls echoed on the buffed pine floors.

  I’d stopped just outside the revolving doors, so when Cole stepped through, I felt his hand on my back, pressing me a couple of inches to the side so he could fit into the inn without toppling me over. The tethe
r tautened when August came in. I dropped my hand to my navel instinctively, not because it itched, but because touching it seemed to lend me strength. Unlike Cole who’d gone to stand next to his brother, August remained standing at my back, his steady heat pulsing against my bare shoulder blades, battling the goose bumps swarming over my skin.

  “This doesn’t feel right,” Cole said.

  The silence rattled my bones.

  Lucas sniffed the air. “The place reeks of them.”

  “I sense heartbeats,” Liam said. “Human and—”

  There was pounding, scratching, then two wolves lurched out of the living room. Not wolves—dogs. Huge black and tawny ones with droopy faces. They stopped in front of the six of us, teeth bared, drool spilling over their floppy jowls.

  I backed up, smacking into August’s chest. His hands settled on my arms at the exact same place where Liam’s had been not too long ago. Instead of bruising like Liam’s, August’s grip on me was gentle but firm—velvet instead of steel.

  I relaxed when I noticed the dogs were hooked onto leashes, leashes that were stretched tight. Footsteps sounded on the hardwood floors, and then a silver-haired man came through the living room doors.

  Aidan Michaels.

  He reeled in the leashes. “I hope you’ll abstain from slaying my new Bloodhounds. I only received them a week ago.”

  While Cole inched closer to me, Matt and Lucas positioned themselves in front of Liam. August didn’t move. Didn’t let go of my arms that had started to shake. Not with fear but with pure, unadulterated hatred.

  I had no interest in killing the dogs, but their owner . . . I was sure interested in sectioning off one of his arteries and watching him bleed out.

  “He can’t hurt you,” August murmured.

  I wasn’t afraid of him hurting me. Quite the opposite.

  “What are you doing here?” Liam’s tone was as cutting as a chainsaw.

  “I was just visiting my new acquisition. It’s a tad shabby, but the view is splendid. Best thing about the place.” His bespectacled navy eyes sought mine through the wall of male bodies.

  “Where are your guests?” Lucas bit out.

  “They went out for a little exercise. Lovely bunch. Very educated and forward-thinking. A nice change from the citizens of Boulder.”

  “All of them?” Liam asked.

  “They’re not all sharp as tacks, but—”

  Matt cut in. “Liam meant, are all of them out running?”

  “Oh, yes. They all went. Even the young’uns.” Aidan scratched one of his hounds between the ears. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll lead you to the festivities.”

  “You’re staying?” Lucas asked.

  “Why not? This place is mine now, isn’t it?” Aidan swept his gaze over the high-ceilinged foyer.

  Tendons shifted in the back of Liam’s neck. “Does Mrs. Morgan know you’ll be staying?”

  Mrs. Morgan? Wasn’t Morgan her first name?

  Aidan smiled that oily smile of his. “Oh, she does. Now come this way.” He gestured toward the living room. “After you.”

  “You go on ahead, Aidan,” Liam said. It was the first time I’d heard him address the old man by his first name. “We’ll follow you.”

  The hunter’s lips curled higher. “I’ve no rifle on me, Kolane.”

  “Unless you want me to snap your dogs’ necks, you’ll walk in front of us,” Liam said.

  Aidan tapped the flank of the bigger of the two Bloodhounds affectionately. “These two boys could be your cousins.”

  “We aren’t related to dogs,” Liam gritted out.

  Liam’s rising anger was fueling Aidan Michaels’s perverted glee.

  The old man yanked on the leashes and then turned, leading the way into the living room. Liam turned toward me as though about to say something. His eyes glowed amber with bloodlust, the color intensifying when he caught August’s hands on me.

  I’d been so absorbed by the sight of Aidan that I’d forgotten August was even holding on to me. I eased out of his grip. No one spoke, making the already uncomfortable moment all the more awkward.

  “I can’t believe the bastards are out running,” Matt finally said.

  “It’s nothing more than a negotiating technique,” Liam muttered. His eyes were slowly shifting back to their normal human hue. Only the rings around his irises remained lit like flames.

  I crossed my arms, rubbing my pebbled skin. They’d turned the AC units to their full power.

  “Is turning this place into an icebox also a negotiating technique?” I asked.

  “Anything that creates discomfort is a technique.” He unbuttoned his jacket, as though to offer it to me.

  Before he could, I walked off, heels clicking on the hardwood floors. “We’ll wait for them on the terrace then.”

  Matt caught up to me, matching my brusque pace. “Don’t separate yourself from the group, Ness.”

  A new chill swept up my spine at his warning, and then another locked my knees when I stepped into the two-storied living room. Standing right beside the entrance was Lucy, flaming hair coiffed in neat waves, pert smile slicked with red lipstick. She was dressed in a black shift that accentuated all of her curves and the milky paleness of her freckled skin. She proffered a silver platter topped with shot glasses.

  “Welcome,” she said, the ashen stink of her breath grating me almost as much as her presence.

  “Mrs. Clark,” Matt said.

  “Oh. Just Lucy now. Haven’t you heard? As of this afternoon, I am no longer a Clark. The dirt over my son’s grave has barely settled, and already, I’m cast out of the family I gave twenty years of my life to.” She turned the full power of her icy smile on me. “The Clarks are a fickle bunch.”

  “Why are you serving at this party, Lucy?” Liam’s question shifted my aunt’s attention on him.

  “Aidan Michaels has just made me director of the inn.”

  “You accepted a job from your son’s killer?” Lucas said. “That’s sick.”

  Aidan, who’d stepped onto the terrace, came back inside, dog-free. Had he set them loose or tied them to the balustrade?

  “Now now, Lucas, I didn’t kill Everest. But you know that since the killer’s in your custody, is he not?”

  Aidan Michaels’s knowledge of us was truly chilling.

  “Just because you didn’t get your hands dirty, old man, doesn’t mean they aren’t filthy as fuck,” Lucas shot back.

  “It’s a real shame you were raised by a pack of wolves, Lucas. An education would’ve done your speech wonders.”

  Lucas reeled his arm back, but Cole caught it before Lucas could let his fist fly into Aidan’s jaw.

  “Jumpy tonight, aren’t we?” Aidan nodded to the platter before lifting one of the diminutive glasses. “Why don’t you try our welcome drink? It’s lovely. Lucy made it herself with rose water distilled from her prized roses.”

  Just the scent wafting from the glasses had my eyes stinging.

  “And what else did you put in there again, my dear?” Aidan asked, tapping his index finger to the flared rim of his shot glass.

  “Sillin?” Matt supplied under his breath.

  “Vodka and sugar syrup,” Lucy said brightly.

  “Sillin?” Aidan’s eyebrows rose, crinkling his forehead. “Now why would she have used Sillin? It wouldn’t have added any flavor to this exquisite drink.”

  “How do you know the flavor of Sillin?” Liam asked, narrowing his gaze on the hunter.

  Aidan thumbed his ear, then pressed his wire-rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose even though they hadn’t slid down. “When I research something, Liam, I do so thoroughly,” he finally said. He raised his glass and waited, but none of us followed his lead. “Your loss.” He knocked the clear drink back, then smacked his lips. “Absolutely delightful, just like the woman who concocted it.”

  Was Aidan Michaels hitting on my aunt—former aunt? Yuck.

  When two spots of color rose to her cheeks,
I gagged. I must’ve done so audibly, because she glared at me, smile gone.

  Voices suddenly rose in the foyer.

  “I believe more guests have arrived. Shall we go out to greet them, Lucy?”

  Aidan took the platter from her hands and offered Lucy his arm. And she took it.

  “More guests, and still no host,” Matt said, gaze sunk on the darkening forest that swayed beyond the overhanging porch like wet paintbrushes.

  Liam tipped his chin toward the terrace, and the boys followed him out. I was still too stunned by what I’d just witnessed to move.

  “Ness?” August’s voice pierced the gray fog of my thoughts.

  I released my elbows, letting my hands drop into the fluffy, itchy tulle. “Jeb can’t come. He’ll—He’ll . . . ” I patted my skirt as though to locate a pocket, but I had no pocket just like I had no bag. I hadn’t thought I would need to bring anything since my uncle was coming. “Can you call him, August? Tell him not to come.” My voice was shrill with nerves. “I don’t want him to . . . to see what we just witnessed.”

  August fished his phone out of his pants pocket and pressed on the screen before lifting it to his ear. As he spoke, I caught sight of a familiar blonde and expelled a breath of relief.

  Sarah walked over to me in a shimmery gown that made her look more goddess than wolf. “I heard the Creeks were late.”

  “You didn’t drink the shots, did you?” I whispered urgently.

  She nocked a crooked grin onto her glossy lips. “Wouldn’t dream of ingesting anything Creep-made.” Winking, she threaded her arm through mine and pulled me toward the terrace, but I dug my heels in.

  “Did you get him on the phone?” I asked August.

  “I did. He’ll stay home.”

  A trickle of relief dripped through me, too little to do away with my gnawing anxiety. “I have such a bad feeling,” I murmured to Sarah as we joined the others on the deck.

  She squeezed my arm. “It’ll be fine.”

  Even though her voice didn’t waver, her optimism did little to reassure me. Perhaps it was because Liam looked as though he was about to snap someone’s head off and Lucas hadn’t taken a jab at Sarah’s appearance as he usually did, even though he’d stared her up and down a couple times. Or perhaps it was because of the matching grim expressions August and the two Rogers brothers wore.