Dark Instincts (The Phoenix Pack 4)

“It’s just shifters acting according to their true animal nature.”

“But even animals don’t do what those bastards did.”

“Except dolphins,” interjected Roni. “They’re a race of violent predators who kill their own babies for fun and who have a predilection to gang rape.”

“Dolphins, really?” Shaya pouted. “But they seem so sweet. Guess you never can tell.”

“What had you planned to do with my son?” demanded Taryn.

“Let’s just say he wouldn’t have survived it.” The blonde shrugged. “But I’m glad we didn’t get him. Kids annoy the hell out of me—crying over and over for their mommy and daddy, begging to go home, when no one’s coming to save them.”

Oh, the twisted bitch.

It was no surprise when Taryn slapped her hard across the face. “Where’s your pack?” But the jackal didn’t answer. In fact, she was smiling. “Where. Is. Your. Pack?”

“Do you really think I’d ever tell you that?”

“One can but hope.”

The odds of the jackal answering that question were nonexistent. For a shifter to give up their pack to another was the ultimate betrayal, totally taboo. It would stain their family’s name, possibly lead to the entire family being ostracized from the pack simply because of what that one shifter did. By keeping that information to herself, the jackal was protecting her pack and her family.

“I’m not answering any of your questions. There’s nothing in it for me—you’ll kill me anyway.”

Jaime tilted her head, conceding that. “But we can do it swiftly and cleanly if you cooperate. If you don’t . . . well, that would be a bad decision.”

“I’ve known pain. There’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” growled Taryn, taking a step forward.

Roni touched Taryn’s arm to stay her, taking a moment to study their prisoner closely. The jackal had four females in front of her who would happily put her through a world of pain before finally killing her. She should have been terrified, sweating nervously. But no. She just looked resigned. This was someone who’d known a lot of violence, who’d gotten used to it and knew how to shut out the pain. She wasn’t scared, wasn’t on the verge of talking. And that presented them with a problem.

A tap, tap, tapping sound made Roni glance down. The jackal was moving her foot impatiently, making those clearly expensive stilettos tap on the floor. They were most likely just as expensive as the indecently short skirt and the strapless top, though probably not as expensive as the jewelry decorating her body. With her perfect hair, perfect makeup, and perfect appearance, she made Roni think of Eliza, Janice, Zara, and all of Marcus’s other exes: shallow, superficial people obsessed with their looks.

And that gave Roni an idea.

“Just give me a sec,” she told the girls. Then she walked to the wall on their right where a selection of tools was hanging. Grabbing the shears, she made her way over to the jackal.

The bitch curled her upper lip. “Pain doesn’t scare me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” said Roni, selecting a few strands of that peroxide blonde hair and holding them out straight. Fear of pain definitely wasn’t the jackal’s weak spot. But something else was.

The jackal tensed. “What are you doing?”

Snip. “I figured I’d put some layers in your hair.” Roni let the strands fall to the floor, and the jackal screeched. So Roni did it again. And again. And again.

“Stop it, you bitch!”

“I think that makeup might need removing,” said Roni. Instantly, Shaya opened her bottle of water and splashed it all over the screaming jackal, paying particular attention to her face. Then she scrubbed at it with a dirty cloth she found on the tool bench.

“Those shoes look kind of uncomfortable, don’t they?” Taryn and Jaime each took a stiletto and slammed them against the wall, breaking the heels and totally wrecking them. “Her clothes look a little tight too.” They then slashed at the top and skirt over and over with their claws.

Shaya fingered the Pandora bracelet. “Maybe we should take this off so it get doesn’t scratched or anything.” Using her shifter strength, she snapped it off and trampled all over it before making her way over to Roni. “Let me have a turn. I am a hairstylist, after all.” Looking the ultimate professional as she worked, Shaya did some snipping of her own before handing the shears to a very eager Taryn.

The Alpha female hummed a song as she moved, looking like a kid at Christmas. All the while, the jackal cursed and screeched. “Take it like a woman.” Snip, snip, snip, snip.

“Ooh, can I have a turn? That looks fun.” Happily taking the shears, Jaime then proceeded to cut even bigger chunks from the jackal’s hair. “This is kind of therapeutic.”

As the males all watched in morbid fascination, Trey quietly spoke. “I have to say, I did not see this coming.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much glee on Jaime’s face.” Dante shook his head in both wonder and amusement.

Eli chuckled. “As unbelievable as it seems, it looks like what they’re doing is working; the jackal’s close to breaking.”

Marcus nodded. “They found her weak spot, and they pounced on it.”

“Do you think we should hide those shears when they’re done?” asked Nick. “They seem a little too fond of them.”

Trey thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Probably for the best.”

“Yep,” agreed Dante. “One thing we can learn from this is to never underestimate our females.”

“You know, looking at them right now,” began Marcus, “it’s safe to say they’re all a little crazy and vicious.” Nick, Trey, and Dante all nodded in agreement, looking proud.

“Yeah,” said Trey. “We lucked out.”

The four females stood back and took a long look at their handiwork. The jackal’s makeup was smudged all over her face, making her look like the masked figure from Sinister. Her expensive clothes were now so stained and tattered she resembled a hurricane survivor. In addition, her hair looked like it had been attacked by a lawn mower. She was actually sobbing.