United (The Ushers) (17 page)

As the time drew near to travel south to Bluefield, their lovemaking took on a desperate, urgent quality, as if each wanted to mark the other with scent, teeth, and soul. During one particularly explosive encounter, Monica took her mate in her arms as they both cried silent tears of ecstasy edged with fear.

“Goddess, I love you, Mo,” Fionn whispered into her hair.

“I know. I love you too,” she whispered back. “We’ll get him back, love. We have to. We’ll get your Dev back, and we’ll make things right with the Appalachian wolves.”

“I want you to be right so badly, but my stomach won’t unclench, and the fear is driving me mad.”

“It doesn’t show,” she reassured him, pressing a kiss into the warm curve of his shoulder. “You seem strong and confident, and everyone is following your lead.”

Hands stroked down his chest to stroke across his flat, masculine nipples. As they hardened under her fingertips, Fionn let out a tortured groan before capturing her lips with his own. So quickly she could hardly note it, he had her on her back, her hands held above her head. His mouth devoured hers in a warring contrast between tenderness and ferocity. His hands abandoned hers to stroke down her body, pinching nipples and grazing the heat between her thighs.

“Please,” she whimpered.

“Please what?” he growled playfully.

“Love me.” She smiled up at him, and his teeth lengthened.

“Always.” He leaned down to graze his teeth down the length of her arm. She arched and cried out his name as he sucked a finger into his mouth, teasing the length of it with his teeth but never letting them break the skin.

So slowly, she thought she would die of it, he slid inside her, already hard again. With his sharp teeth bared, blue eyes glowing with a supernatural heat, he appeared for a moment more animal than man. When he hilted inside of her, they both gasped, and she rocked against him hungrily. He seized her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and squeezed, making her squirm against him.

“I don’t want to let go of these beautiful breasts. Make yourself come around me,” he whispered, pinching again.

Using a single fingertip to circle her clit, she obeyed, her back arching, pushing her breasts harder into his hands.

Smiling sweetly at her, he lunged down before she could react, taking her earlobe between his teeth and drawing just the slightest bit of blood. She felt the walls of her orgasm bearing down upon her, and she embraced the feeling as it squeezed her heart and soul breathless before shattering into bliss. He followed her moments later, her name a hosanna on his lips.

Chapter Seventeen

G
ORDON
K
IRK
H
AD
A
RRANGED
for Devon to meet him in Washington DC. This was not the first time Devon had been to the city, but it was the first time he’d skipped school to do it. Gordon had forged a note from Fionn Murphy, excusing Devon from classes. Devon took the train into the city, telling himself it wouldn’t matter; his mother would never need to know.

Gordon and Jonny were waiting at the train station, wearing dark glasses and hats. Secretly, Dev thought they looked a little ridiculous, like the Blues Brothers, except dangerous.

“Thank you for coming here today, Mr. Murphy.” Gordon reached out to shake Devon’s hand.

He gripped the man’s hand firmly and tried to appear older than he was. He followed the Kirk brothers to a small restaurant near the train station and sat with them in a darkened booth.

“Of course, sir,” he replied, his chest puffed with pride. “I am glad to help the cause in any way that I can.”

“Yes, you’re a fine foot soldier, Mr. Murphy. We’re happy to have you. We’d like to offer you an opportunity. A mission, so to speak.”

“Of course, sir,” Devon replied again. “I’m honored.”

“Now, Dev, this could get dangerous,” Jonny warned. “It’s strictly a volunteer mission. We don’t ask our foot soldiers to martyr themselves to the cause, y’hear?”

“What do you need me to do?” Dev felt his voice shaking slightly, so he took a deep breath and a sip of the water that had been deposited in front of him by a curly-haired waitress.

“Son, we need to lure your father and his mistress out of hiding. We think some of the others will follow. That white bitch can’t seem to stay away from trouble. We’re going to be busy with the revival, so we need someone to step up and help us out.”

“You mean, like bait?” Dev asked slowly, wanting to be sure he understood what was being asked of him.

“Yeah, sort of.” Jonny grinned. “No fish hooks required or nothing, but we think your father would come down to Bluefield if he thought you were in danger. But we want him to come down on our terms, right?”

“What do you say, Devon? Can you be our point man on this? Can we trust you to keep him away from the revival until it’s time?”

“Of course, Gordon, Jonny, I would be glad to help in any way that I can. How exactly are we going to go about this?”

“First, we’re gonna have a little photoshoot,” Gordon explained. “You’ll make it look like we’re holding you against your will. We’ll tell him to stay away and wait for further instruction—we’ll sort out what, in order to lure him here. And then it’s a simple matter of getting rid of the she-bitch. You can have your father back.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Devon’s voice squeaked with adolescent admiration.

“Well, Devon, a father’s love is both a simple and a complicated thing. There is nothing a father won’t do for his child. Nothing at all. It’s bottomless. No matter how you hurt your father, he will love you. He will cherish you. He will exalt in you because you are his son.”

“I don’t think he even likes me very much,” Dev said.

“Oh, Devon, never think that,” Gordon reassured him. “A father is helpless against the demands of love for his child. You know how much you love your sister Rose?”

“Yeah, of course. She’s my little sister.” He shrugged.

“That is just a fraction of the love a parent feels for his child. You are our greatest resource in this war against the moon-worshippers.”

“Well, when you put it that way, how can I refuse?” Devon shrugged and grinned, looking like a twelve-year-old boy who had just stepped in way over his head.

“You’re not going to be able to go home to your ma until this is over, you know.” Jonny’s voice had grown quiet. “We got you a hotel room here in the district for tonight, and then we’ll move you to Bluefield tomorrow. You got it? You lay low here in the city.”

“Ma will worry about me.” Devon frowned.

“She will, but that’s part of your cover. If she knew you were with the church, she wouldn’t worry or blame your father for the fact that you’re gone. However, thinking you’ve been kidnapped should get her all fired up.” Gordon’s voice was half-laugh, half-snarl as he described it.

“As long as you think this is best, I agree.” This time, Devon’s words were sure—fervent, even.

“I do, son. Now, let’s go ahead and order some lunch.” Gordon waved the curly-haired waitress to the table and ordered for all three of them.

As they sat and ate in relative silence, Dev regarded the two wolves across from him with his stomach slowly knotting. This whole plan seemed too simple and seemed to take a lot for granted where Fionn was concerned. He wondered if there was more that he wasn’t being told? Well, they had referred to him as a foot soldier. He didn’t expect to be part of the inner circle just because he’d testified a few times. No, he knew he would have to earn their trust.

Fionn was helping his mother in her garden when the phone rang. Growing up, he’d spent most of his childhood wherever his mother went, and that included spending hours planting, weeding, and harvesting with her. He found it comfortable to sit in the sun, pulling one weed after another, even as sweat dripped down his face. It reminded him of being a pup with no worries at all.

“Are you going to answer that, Finners?” his mother asked him from beneath her wide-brimmed hat.

Tugging one dirt-covered glove off, he reached into his pocket. “Yeah?” he answered. “Nikki? Calm down. What do you mean, Dev is missing? For how long? Did you call the police?”

Fionn leapt to his feet, snarling into the phone at Devon’s mother. Monica, feeling his distress, came running out of the house.

“No, don’t do anything yet, okay? Jack and Ted can help. No, they have friends on the police force. They will help.”

Monica and Roisin could hear the human woman’s voice growing shrill.

“Nikki, please… No, no, that’s fine. Yeah, I’ll text you the second I hear anything. You’ll do the same? Okay. Bye.”

“Devon?” Monica asked.

“She said he never came home from school this afternoon. She said she called the school, and they said he had a note from me, excusing his absence, and he hasn’t been in school all day.”

“But he’s not talking to you. Why would you have written him a note excusing him?”

“She thinks he forged it to play hooky.”

“This reeks of Kirk,” Monica replied in a low voice.

Just then, Ted came around the side of the house.

“Hey, Fionn, you’re going to want to have a look at this.” He held up a USB flash drive. “It was delivered by a human courier service a few minutes ago.”

“Laptop?”

“Kitchen table.” Ted handed over the drive, and they all followed Fionn into the house.

The flash drive showed a series of photographs of Devon: in the first, he held this morning’s USA Today. In the second, a note.

Dad. I am being held by a man named Jonny Kirk. He says if you send the police, or if you come for me, he will kill me.

The last photo showed Jonny sitting next to Devon, partially shifted, his grin showing lupine teeth. In one clawed hand, he held up another note.

Wait for further instructions.

Monica looked around the silent room. Fionn was biting his lip, and she could feel his anger rolling off him in waves. Annie came down the stairs and stood beside Monica, watching Fionn.

“We’re going to Bluefield anyway. What’s his game?” Fionn pondered. “Why would he have Devon pretend he’d been kidnapped?”

“Throw us off, make us act hastily. Maybe even keep us away from Bluefield,” Annie suggested.

“No, he wants us there.” Fionn looked at her. “He would have done something else otherwise—no way he could expect a wolf to ignore this. I don’t think he knows that we know Devon is involved.”

Graham and Ellen came into the room then, giggling. They both stopped short at the grim expressions on the faces around them.

“Boss?” Ellen asked.

“Devon is pretending to be kidnapped to lure us to Bluefield.” Monica filled her in. “But we don’t think they know that we know of Devon’s involvement with the ‘church.’”

“Great, we can use this.” Graham nodded. “If they haven’t got Devon leading the humans, that makes it all the easier for Annie and Gerard to lead them away. And we have a reason to start moving wolves… We don’t have to wait and try to do it in secret.”

“I don’t like it.” Bianca strode into the room, one hand over her belly. “It stinks.” Two steps behind her, Jack and Gerard wore matching scowls.

“I won’t leave Bianca.” Gerard’s voice rumbled forth, hard like stone.

“He thinks this is about me.” She shook her head. “Because of the bodies. Because I’m pregnant.”

“He’s right.” Annie looked at Fionn. “Gerard is right, Fionn. This is about the third Usher. That’s why they are killing pregnant wolves—they’re trying to lure us out. And we almost walked right into it.”

Fionn sat down hard, staring at the photo of Jonny Kirk and his son. “How many of the gathered wolves are pregnant?”

“Just me,” Bianca said softly.

“And, well, me.” Monica blushed.

This was hardly how she wanted to tell him, Fionn could tell. His eyes widened as he looked at his mate, nostrils flaring as he took in the subtle changes in her scent. A fierce thrill worked through him, and his head flew back in a howl of joy. Monica grinned. The other wolves began offering congratulations, but Fionn only had eyes and ears for his mate as he flew across the room and swept her into his arms. Kissing her hard on the mouth, he looked into her eyes with all the love in his heart, plain on his face.