Lure of Oblivion (The Mercury Pack 3)

Zander nuzzled her. “How’s my baby doing?”

“Fine,” she assured him, knowing he was pissed despite how carefully he handled her.

Releasing her, Zander then edged around her—placing himself in front of her like a barrier, forcing Aidan to back up. “Didn’t I warn you to stay away from Gwen?”

Aidan spluttered. “You can’t stop me from talking to someone.”

“Really? Let’s take a walk.”

“Yeah, a walk sounds good.”

Gwen almost jumped at Bracken’s voice. She hadn’t even realized he was behind her until he spoke. He followed Zander, who fisted Aidan’s collar and dragged him out the door.

She stood there, torn over whether to follow and be sure they didn’t kill Aidan. Not that his life meant anything to her, but being an asshole wasn’t a reason to die. Still, if she did anything to defend Aidan, he’d see it as a green light to keep badgering her. Maybe she should just let him learn his lesson the hard way.

Decision made, she headed into the kitchen. Damn, it was hot, despite that they’d stopped serving food, since it was near closing time. As per usual, she helped the staff clean up and carried the garbage bags outside into the side alley. She tossed the first bag in the dumpster, then the next, and was just about to toss the third, when she heard the slight scuff of a shoe.

Whirling, she dropped the garbage bag . . . and then sagged in relief as she saw it was Zander. She frowned, opening her mouth to ask why he’d gone down the alley instead of just reentering the building through the front door. But then he smiled, and Gwen tensed. Zander didn’t smile. Not like that. His mouth curved and quirked, but never spread into a huge toothy smile. He also didn’t wax his eyebrows or slick back his hair. And then she noticed his clothing was now different. Which could mean only one thing.

She was about to say, “You must be Rory.” But the guy that Zander had described would love to know that Zander talked about him. So, instead, she frowned. “For a minute there, I thought you were someone I know. I’m guessing you’re related to Zander Devlin.”

His smile faltered. “I’m his brother Rory.”

“Damn, I can’t believe he never mentioned he had an identical twin. Does he know you’re here?”

“No, I was hoping to surprise him.”

Yeah, she was just betting he was. She wondered if he’d been hanging outside the front of the building but scampered down the alley when Zander hauled Aidan outside. If so, it was most likely pure chance that he’d managed to confront her here.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to see you.” Her pulse jumped as Rory began to advance on her. Keeping her eyes on him, she leaned down to grab the bag, discreetly slipping her other hand into the pocket of her shorts to feel for her switchblade.

“You’re not my brother’s usual type. Far from it. But I can see why he’s trying a new flavor.”

Flavor? What was she, ice cream? She smiled, as if flattered. “Aw, thank you. You should go on inside and talk to him. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

“No, I don’t think he would.” Rory tilted his head. “And I think you know that.” In a flash, he was right in front of her, both hands gripping her hips—and one of those hands had clearly unsheathed its claws, because the razor-sharp blades dug into her side threateningly. “Walk with me.”

She snickered. “God, you’re dumb.”

“Excuse me?” He froze. Well, of course he did. What sane man would move when someone was pressing the tip of a switchblade against their ball sack?

“I suggest you sheathe those claws, Scooby.”

Nostrils flaring, he bared his teeth. “And I suggest you drop that fucking knife.” He dug his claws tight enough to break her skin.

Hissing at the sting, she pricked his ball sack with her blade. He inhaled sharply, clamping his lips tight. “You should really let me go, Rory. I get nervous when I’m threatened, and nerves make my hands twitch. I don’t think you want me feeling nervous right now.”

He lowered his arms with a harsh curse. “Drop the knife.”

“Hands up first. Call me weird, but I don’t trust that you won’t—”

His eyes snapped toward the door and widened a little, and she got the feeling he heard something that she didn’t. He leaped backward so fast it took her breath away. He backhanded her, sending her crashing into the dumpster. Her head hit the metal so hard she was surprised she didn’t hear something crack. He fled like hell’s army was on his heels.

“Bastard.” She struggled to her feet, dazed and pissed off.

The door swung open, and Zander came rushing out with the other wolves behind him.

She pointed down the alley in time to see Rory disappear. “That way! The motherfucker went that way!”

If she hadn’t swayed, making his stomach bottom out, Zander would have joined the others in pursuing his twisted brother. Instead, he grabbed his mate by her elbows, steadying her. “Gwen, baby, where did he hurt you?” His voice shook with barely contained fury and a need to hurt. But she came first.

“I’m okay. Really. Banged my head, though.” She prodded the back of her skull and winced. “Gonna have a goose egg for sure.”

He growled, gently probing the area she’d touched. “I can smell your blood.” There was only a hint of it in the air, but it was enough to send yet more rage coursing through him. His wolf paced within him, growling and snarling.

“Oh yeah, he pricked my side with his claws.” She peeled up her shirt and saw small, shallow puncture marks—blood had seeped to the surface, but it wasn’t pouring down her side or anything. “Your eyes just flashed wolf.”

“My beast is pissed right now,” Zander told her. “He wants to hunt and kill the fucker responsible.”

“It was Rory,” she said quietly, hating that the knowledge might hurt him.

Zander tore a strip off the bottom of his shirt and pressed it against the punctures even though the wounds weren’t bad. “I know,” he rumbled. He took a long breath, seeking a calm he knew he wouldn’t find for at least a few hours. Gwen didn’t need his rage right then. “Ally had what she calls a flash-vision. Most of the time, her visions are at least a couple of minutes long. But occasionally she just sees a single flash of the future—like a photograph. She saw him putting you in a car.”