Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
We’re meeting at an older hotel away from the business district. The limo is light-tight, but not sound proof and I hear what sounds like angry voices as we come to a stop. Theo looks oddly pleased with himself but neither Xavier nor Zeke have the slightest change of expression. The driver comes around and opens the door and it takes my brain a minute to process what I’m seeing.
The angry voices are indeed coming from the parking lot of the hotel. What the hell is going on? Xavier helps me out of the limo and I blink, watching a large grey wolf jump over a motorcycle, pinning a member of the 409 Reapers to the ground. Another Reaper comes running over, gun drawn.
Holy shit. The wolves and Reapers are fighting each other? What happened to having the living side together over the dead?
Xavier zooms forward, using his body as a shield. He takes the bullet right to the chest, only barely flinching from the pain.
“I see we’ve arrived just in the nick of time,” he says to Theo, who disarms the Reaper. Zeke stares down the wolf, who slinks back, running and disappearing into the shadows. “Please, everyone,” he calls out, voice steady. “Restore order. Let’s get back to the thing we all came together for.”
Theo can’t keep the smug look off his face, and while it’s his normal fucking face, I see the extra layer of cockiness. Whatever chaos is going on here tonight isn’t random.
Xavier started it—somehow—so he can finish it and go back to being needed as the only one who can ensure peace.
Chapter
Twenty-Five
“Why should we calm down?” one of the Reapers demands. He’s holding a knife at his side, and I can tell from the sheen of the blade that it’s pure silver. A common misconception, even among hunters, is that silver is required to kill a werewolf. It isn’t. Wolves, like humans, can die from plenty of things.
“They killed nearly an entire sector of our club.”
What? I know I heard him correctly, but I stay quiet and watch the exchange.
“We didn’t kill anyone!” one of the wolves shouts back, still in human form. “Why the hell would we have anything to do with your motorcycle-trash gang?”
“You think it’s just a fucking coincidence that a whole other pack of you shows up and then we find Johnny chewed to pieces on your territory?”
My eyes shift sideways toward Zeke. He’s standing protectively in front of me, which I’m sure Xavier instructed him to do. This whole thing was carefully orchestrated from the start. I’m almost certain of it.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Xavier says calmly.
The Reaper looks at him like he’s only just realized who he’s standing a few feet away from. Xavier Malus. His entire posture changes. He drops to his knees, holding up one hand as he starts pleading for Xavier’s forgiveness. His voice is too low, and he’s far enough away that I can’t make out everything he says. I lean forward slightly, my breath catching. One of the werewolves who shifted earlier slinks back out from the shadows, still snarling.
“Shift back,” Xavier orders. The wolf freezes. “Abide by the rules, and maybe we can limit the amount of bloodshed tonight.” For a second, no one moves. Then the wolf backs into the shadows again and shifts into a man I don’t recognize. The Charlotte pack is large enough that there are members I’ve never met, and I have no idea what anyone from the Raleigh pack looks like. The sudden roar of motorcycle engines sounds behind us. I turn. Dozens of Reapers pull in, one after another, headlights cutting across the dark. Several are visibly armed.
Theo looks like Christmas came early. That makes one of us. The rest of us are considerably more disposable when bullets start flying. A pickup truck follows the motorcycles.
Several club members are riding in the bed. They jump out and drag down a body wrapped in a tarp.
“Blood demands blood,” one of them says. His voice carries over everyone else. “I want the wolf responsible for this.” He yanks the tarp back. I suck in a breath. The dead man’s face is partially mauled away. I’ve seen enough demon attacks and animal wounds to know what can be mistaken for what. This isn’t demonic. The guy was attacked by some kind of dog. Or something made to look like one.
How the hell did Xavier pull this off?
A few hours ago, I was spiraling over Claire. Meanwhile, he somehow organized all of this. And I’m equal parts impressed and terrified. He fixed the coalition problem. Not morally. Not permanently.
But politically?
He shifted everything back into his favor. The wolves now need him to protect them from the Reapers. The Reapers are probably about to turn around and pay him even more to protect them from the wolves. And somehow he managed to drag an entirely different pack into the middle of it.