Once Upon A Midnight Page 31

  He touched her cheek. "You're sure?"

  She grinned. "Of course I'm sure. You know you want to stay. Just admit it, and let's get Drake some clothes."

  Rightness surged through Cash, and he cupped her face, kissing her again, long and hard. "I love you," he whispered.

  She beamed back at him. "I know."

  "Hey." Drake was lying down in the grass now. "I'm kind of offended that you'd rather make out than keep me from bleeding out. Just wanted to point that out."

  Cash laughed and stood up, staggering slightly to keep his balance. "If we're going to help Jace with the pack, we need to get in better shape." He limped over to Drake and held out his hand. "Come on, buddy. Let's get inside." He hauled Drake to his feet, and the other man staggered, nearly collapsing into him.

  Cash caught him just as Bryn walked up, catching Drake's other arm. Together, the three of them limped back to his cabin. The night was a mess, the aftermath would be rough, but Cash felt a sense of deep peace and satisfaction that he hadn't felt since the day he'd turned into a wolf and walked away from the only one he'd ever loved.

  He looked over at Bryn as she helped Drake up the steps. "I'm not letting you go again," he said.

  She smiled at him. "I'm not letting you go, either, so don't even try."

  Rightness pulsed through him. "I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart, unless you're with me."

  And he wasn't. He had everything he wanted, everything he needed, and everyone who mattered. It wasn't going to be an easy road ahead, but he wasn't walking away this time. He'd found where he belonged.

  As they crossed the threshold into his cabin, he saw Bryn's stuffed reindeer on the floor in the corner. It was Christmas morning now, a Christmas of blood, death, violence, and—

  "Merry Christmas, Cash," Bryn smiled at him, a smile so full of warmth and love, that his chest tightened.

  —and love.

  That was the other part of Christmas. The best part. The part that would sustain them no matter what came next.

  Chapter Thirteen

  CASH LOOKED SO handsome in his suit...handsome, but lethal. No matter how much he cleaned up, Bryn knew she'd always see the wolf in him, the feral dangerous side that had saved her life, the wildly passionate and seductive man who shared her bed every night.

  He looked over at her, and smiled, but tension was thick in his green eyes. His jaw was clean-shaven for the first time, and she missed his whiskers. He held her hand tightly in his lap, his fingers entwined with hers.

  Beside him sat Drake, also wearing a suit. His arm was in a cast, and he had stitches down the side of his temple and at the base of his neck, from a bite that had nearly killed him. It had been only three days since the fight, but their wounds were already beginning to heal.

  They were the only people in the back row of the courtroom. No one was sitting near them. No one would even make eye contact, not since Drake and Cash had testified at Jace's trial about how Damien and Grigori had forced them to shift.

  They'd both revealed themselves as werewolves to save Jace, a sacrifice that would forever strip them of the anonymity they both burned for. She'd backed them up, her own wounds evidence of the battle they'd fought.

  The jury had debated for less than twelve hours, and the verdict was about to be delivered.

  Jace was sitting with his head down at the front of the courtroom. He was in even worse shape than Drake from the fight with Damien, his left foot almost completely severed. But even worse was the dead look in his eyes. He was a man without hope, without spirit, without a will to live.

  The judge called for attention, and Cash squeezed her hand as the courtroom fell silent, waiting for the verdict. Bryn couldn't take her gaze off Jace, barely listening as the judge began to talk. Jace's head was down. He wasn't even watching the judge. He was just staring at the floor, his shoulders hunched.

  She knew he was thinking of the woman he'd killed. Cash had told her that he remembered everything he'd done while he'd been in the killing rage, which meant that Jace recalled every moment of killing that woman. Being acquitted would not bring her back, and it would not erase the stains from his soul. She knew that, because she'd lived with the same guilt her whole life. It had taken Cash's love and support to help her past it. There were still times when he woke her up from nightmares and held her until they subsided, and she knew that would continue for a while…but she also knew he would stand by her without question.

  Jace didn't have someone to hold him at night. He didn't have someone who would love him with every ounce of her soul. He didn't have someone who would see past the wolf and love him no matter what.

  Cash looked over at her, and smiled, a private, tender smile that made her heart tighten. "Thank you for believing in me," he whispered. "Without you, I'm the one who would be sitting up there, with blood on my hands. You were the only thing strong enough to break me free of Grigori."

  She traced her finger along his jaw. "I'll always believe in you, Cash."

  "I know. I need that." He pressed a kiss to her knuckle. "I can't live without you, Bryn. Life is too dark without you in it."

  Warmth flooded her, the kind of warmth that came from deep inside, that couldn't be destroyed by any external force. "Back at ya, big guy."

  He chuckled, and kissed her knuckles again. "You're such a sassy little thing."

  She grinned. "I know. That's why you love me."

  "That, among other reasons," he agreed. "Like your great ass."

  She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud. "Seriously? We're in a courtroom."

  "Sshh." Drake elbowed Cash. "The judge is about to deliver the verdict."

  They both settled immediately, turning their attention to the front of the courtroom. The judge was solemn and serious in her black robe as she read from the paper the jury had given her. "And for the charge of first degree murder—"

  There was a pause, and Bryn held her breath, leaning forward, gripping Cash's hand.

  "—we find the defendant, not guilty."

  Relief rushed through her, and she felt like jumping to her feet and fist pumping. The crowd gasped, and someone burst into tears in the courtroom. Cash let out a breath, and bowed his head, pressing their joined hands to his lips. Beside him, Drake leaned back in the seat, covering his face with his hands. But Jace flinched, as if someone had hit him.

  The judge continued. "For the charge of involuntary manslaughter, we find the defendant not guilty."

  The courtroom erupted into a frenzy of discussion, cheers, and shouts of outrage. Cash let out a low whoop, and punched his hands together, sandwiching hers between them. Drake sighed loudly and seemed to sag in his seat, weeks of tension draining from his body. Everyone stood up, talking excitedly, but Jace still didn't move. He just sat there, hunched over, staring at the floor.

  Bryn's heart sank at his response. "He doesn't want to be exonerated," she said.

  "It's not his fault," Drake snarled. "Grigori is responsible for that woman's murder, not Jace."

  "It doesn't matter if it's his fault or not," Cash said, squeezing her hand. "He's taking responsibility for it." He glanced down at Bryn, his face understanding.

  Tears clogged her throat, and she knew she would be forever grateful for Cash's acceptance of her past, and his ability to help her let go of her guilt. He was a lethal protector, but he was also a man of deep emotions and compassion, despite the rawness of his childhood.

  Jace's lawyer stood up and began shaking hands, but still Jace didn't move. "He's not going to be okay," she said, her throat tight. "Look at him."

  Cash squeezed her hand. "He is going to be okay, because he has us."

  Drake stood up. "Damn right he does. Let's go get our boy." He walked out into the aisle, ignoring the whispered looks and the way people moved out of his way. Bryn hurried after him, and Cash stayed right beside her, always keeping his body close enough to her to shield her, a habit she knew he'd never stop, at least not until Grigori was no longer a thre
at.

  The three of them reached Jace, who looked up as they approached, clearly sensing their presence. His eyes were empty, his face sunken and weathered. "It doesn't change anything," he said.

  "No, it doesn't." Cash held out his hand. "You were innocent all along, and you still are. Let's go, Jace. It's time to get out of here."

  For a long moment, Jace just stared at Cash's hand, then he finally locked wrists with Cash, and let Cash pull him to his feet. Drake handed him his crutches, and emotion flashed across his face. Deep, raw emotion that showed Drake's intense loyalty toward Jace. Like Cash, Drake had a heart that he kept carefully hidden, but she knew it was there.

  Three men, so powerful, so deadly, so loyal that they would sacrifice anything for those they loved.

  They waited for Jace to extricate himself from behind the table, but just as he reached them, a loud crash sounded from the other side of the room. Instantly, the three men formed a tight circle around her, shielding her on all sides with their bodies.

  "Sorry!" One of the security guards called out, and she saw that a table had collapsed. The crowd dispersed, and her three escorts relaxed, moving away from her again, not far, but enough to give her space. Except for Cash, who put his arm around her, keeping her tight against his side as they moved through the crowds of people wanting to interview the three werewolves.

  Werewolves who had just shown everyone, including herself, that they were her family, her protectors, her home. Cash pressed a kiss to her hair, and she smiled up at him. He grinned back, a wicked gleam that promised that when they were alone, he was going to show her exactly how important she was to him.

  And she knew she was going to love every second of it.

  STEPHANIE ROWE BIO

  Hailed by J.R. Ward as a "paranormal star," New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Stephanie Rowe is the author of more than forty-five novels, and she's a four-time nominee for the RITA® award, the highest award in romance fiction. For a complete booklist, visit www.stephanierowe.com. Keep up with the latest Stephanie Rowe news on Facebook at www.facebook.com/StephanieRoweBooks, on Twitter at StephanieRowe2, or by signing up for her private newsletter at http://stephanierowe.com/connect.php.

  A Shade of Midnight

  Midnight Shifters Book Four

  ©2016 Renee George

  Chapter One

  MINA VAIL PATTED her 9mm pistol resting comfortably on her hip. Guarding Siggy Mayhem, a minor pop star with a major ego, brought out her inner homicidal maniac. Siggy’s manager, Brick Mason, had hired Artemis Protect Services after Siggy received multiple death threats via social media. It wasn’t hard to see why someone wanted to kill him. A little less than thirty minutes with the guy, and Mina was ready to shoot him.

  Siggy leaned against the wall near the elevator. He made grunting noises while playing a video game called Zombie Pigeons on his smartphone. Every time he frantically swiped at the screen, she wanted to punch his boyishly handsome face.

  She pushed the button on her Bluetooth earpiece. “Bobby. All clear?”

  “All clear,” came Bobby’s reply.

  “Copy that,” she said into her mic. Her partner in Artemis Protective Services, Bobby Porter, a black belt in karate and an expert in multiple weapons, had been Mina’s friend for several years. In her past occupation, Bobby had helped her out a jam more than once. He was ex-military, and for a human, he’d seen too much to be surprised by her abilities. Tonight, he was in charge of securing the lobby while she babysat the money. They’d recently hired Mike Bodine, a former Marine, as backup muscle. It was Mike’s first gig with them, and Mina and Bobby were both curious to see what kind of mettle the former soldier was made of—hopefully not at the client’s expense.

  “Yes!” Siggy shouted while pumping his fist. He caught Mina’s look and grinned. “Level fifty-six, baby.” He wore a pale blue T-shirt with a deep-vee and skinny jeans that sagged around his hips but hugged his legs. He was good-looking—if you liked the Justin Bieber-One Direction type. Siggy had come to Kansas City to play Kemper Arena, and it was Mina’s job to make sure he survived his press conference and autograph session.

  Mina was just hoping she could survive him. A ding alerted her to the elevator’s arrival. She peeked around the corner. No passengers. Good. Mina ushered Siggy swiftly into the car and pushed the button for the first floor.

  “Hold the elevator,” a deep masculine voice yelled from the hallway.

  Mina peered down the hall and wet her lips. Mmm. Nice.

  He was tall, at least 6’4”, medium blond hair, and under the tight black pants and a cobalt single-button Jacket, she could see he had broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and long muscular legs. Tempting, but uh-uh. She was off men, even if they happened to be unbelievably beautiful.

  Tall, dark, and off limits arrived at the doors just as they were closing. His arm shot out in between the sliding panels, making them bounce open. Mina stepped forward with cat-like quickness, placing her hand on the man’s chest. Incredible heat poured down her arm, not burning hot, just strong sensual warmth. Her nipples went rigid under her black leather jumper.

  Shit.

  His mouth—upper lip slightly fuller than the lower—curved upward in a gorgeous smile. His remarkable bright green eyes were accented with gold rings around his pupils. Her breath caught in a short gasp and her tongue went tingly. This guy exuded major sexual mojo. He was definitely other worlder. Had to be. A human wouldn’t affect her empathic ability with such force. She couldn’t detect any sense of malice or threat from the stranger. It seemed the only danger he posed was to her libido.

  Heat and desire rolled off the man, and Mina fought the impulse to close the distance between them and kiss his luscious mouth. Instead, she shook her head and nudged him back one step into the corridor. “Sorry, stud.” She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “You’ll have to take the next elevator.”

  He tilted his head to the side, raised an eyebrow, and backed away. “No problem, hot stuff.”

  Yikes! His smooth low voice sent goose bumps over her body.

  He winked. “You don’t remember me do you?”

  Mina shook her head. “I never forget a face, mister, and believe me, if we had met, I would not have forgotten you.”

  He smiled, his eyes alight with amusement. “Flattering.”

  Mina tightened her grip on her 9mm as the doors closed between them. “Damn,” she mumbled then turned her attention back to protecting the client.

  The pop star must have heard her exclamation, because he leaned against the elevator rail and whispered to her, “Hey, Mina, what say we blow this joint and take a little me and you time?”

  “I don’t get paid enough to babysit after hours.”

  He snuggled his body in closer to hers. “Ouch. You’re going to hurt my feelings.” His chin brushed against Mina’s shoulder.

  “If you keep touching me, you won’t survive the trip to the lobby.”

  Siggy put up his hands defensively. “Hey, baby, what’s with the ’tude? Why wouldn’t you want the Siggy-experience? After all, I’m going to be a legend.” He smiled—very self-assured.

  Mina shook her head at the idiot then tapped her earbud. “Bobby, everything set?”

  A voice came back over, “Yeah, boss, good to go.”

  “Mike, you set?”

  “Yeah, no problem,” said the new recruit. She hoped Mike had the stuff because she’d hate to find out he didn’t during such a critical event.

  The elevator slowed to a stop. “Stay right behind me and to the left,” she told Siggy.

  “Jesus, you’re all business,” he huffed.

  “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.” The doors opened to the lobby. Mina let a hint of a smile tug at her lips before she stepped out between Siggy and a mob of screaming teens chanting his name.

  ***

  THE MEET AND GREET autograph session had gone on for thirty minutes. Over twenty-nine too long by Mina’s estimation. Siggy’
s manager, Brick Mason, had joined them. He stood behind his client, his gaze glued to his phone and fingers flying as he texted. Mina scanned the people crammed into the space. She was amazed at the gaggle of teenagers, boys and girls alike, along with some twenty-somethings who wanted to get close to Siggy Mayhem.

  A sudden wave of rage slammed her empathic abilities, effectively bringing her to a halt. The channeler of those negative emotions—a stocky man with dark glasses and a gray trench coat—weaved his way through the press of bodies. Though Mina couldn’t see his eyes, his hatred for Siggy was easy to read, but it was a bit more difficult to decipher his intentions. One thing was certain, however. He wasn’t a line-jumper trying to get a poster signed.

  “Mike,” she said into the headset, “glasses at two o’clock.”

  “See him, boss lady,” was his response.

  “Bobby?”

  “Copy that, partner,” Bobby said.

  Staying close to Siggy, who was too busy flirting with a giggling brunette to notice imminent danger, Mina tracked Bobby and Mike as they threaded through the crowd.

  Five-ten, with dark brown hair cut in a military fade, and built like a Bulldog, Bobby Porter intimidated men twice his size. .Mike, built leaner and slightly taller than Bobby, was no slouch in the intimidation department either. They started to close in on the target, coming at Mr. Trench Coat from different angles.

  “Take it slow, boys. We don’t want to cause a panic.”

  They both gave slight nods. Siggy leaned back in his chair. “You look hot in black leather, baby.” He patted her on the ass, and if he hadn’t been paying her five hundred dollars an hour, she’d have broken his hand.

  Her gaze returned to the angry man.

  He reached inside a pocket.