Lure of Oblivion (Mercury Pack Book 3) Read online

  “Yeah, but they were together for two years, and she’s not good at being on her own. She goes to Donnie because she knows he’ll verbally shred Asshole’s character until she feels we’re all better off without him—which we are.”

  “Why doesn’t she like talking badly of him in front of us? She knows we despise him. It’s not like she’d be poisoning our minds against him. He did that all on his own.”

  “I think she doesn’t want us to see how much he hurt her; she doesn’t want that to hurt us and—” Gwen cut herself off at the chime of the doorbell. “I’ll get it.” Hoping it wasn’t Colt with more complaints from the Moores, she strode into the hall. But as she opened the door, it wasn’t to find Colt on her doorstep. No, it was worse.

  Gwen gripped the edge of the door, mouth tightening. It was hard not to snarl at the balding, impeccably neat male. His smile was wide and friendly, but it had a shady edge to it—the kind you saw on a slimy door-to-door salesman. At least Brandt didn’t hide that he was a bastard. His father, however, lavished everyone with a false charm that grated on her nerves.

  She noticed his chauffeur, Thad, leaning against the car, staring right at her. From what she could tell, the guy was also Ezra’s right-hand man.

  “Good morning,” Ezra said brightly.

  She arched a brow. “Is it?”

  His smile faltered slightly. “Miss Miller, I’ve come in peace, I assure you.”

  “And yet, I’m not feeling assured, Mr. Moore.”

  “Please call me Ezra.”

  Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “I was hoping that you and I could talk.”

  “Is that not what we’re doing?”

  “In private, I mean.” He glanced over her shoulder, hinting to come inside.

  “This is private enough.”

  His eyes hardened a little. “Very well.” Clearing his throat, he offered her a contrite smile. “I wanted to apologize for my son’s behavior the other night. He confessed that the bat is his and that his injuries weren’t caused by you—that you simply took the bat from him before he could smash the window of your truck. The incident shamed all three young men, and I know their families feel just as disappointed with their sons as I do with mine.”

  What a crock of shit. “While I appreciate your taking the time to come here, I don’t want an apology. I want assurances that your son will stay away from me—that is all.”

  He gave a respectful nod. “Understandable.” He slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a check. “Allow me to offer this as compensation.”

  She blinked. “Compensation?”

  “Ten thousand dollars.”

  “You’re offering me ten grand . . . because your son acted like a dick?”

  He seemed about to jump to Brandt’s defense, but then his face molded into a remorseful expression that didn’t reach his eyes. “Brandt is . . . troubled. I will admit that. But he would never raise his fist to a woman, let alone drug and beat one with a pole. He insists that you misread the situation you stumbled across, that he merely came upon the female shifter after she’d already been beaten by someone else.”

  Anger surged through Gwen. She somehow managed to bite back a curse. “You don’t believe that. You want to believe it. But you don’t. Look, I get that he’s your son, and you don’t want to see him punished by the shifter council, but you can’t seriously think he doesn’t deserve a punishment for what he did.”

  “He says he’s innocent—”

  “I know what I saw, I know what I heard, and I know it was him. I could hear him beating her—hear that pole hitting bone before I even laid eyes on them. You’re insulting both my intelligence and your own by trying to insinuate differently.”

  “The shifter altered her statement.”

  “Because she’s scared out of her mind.”

  “What do you care?” His upper lip curled. “She’s a shifter. A lone shifter, which makes it worse.”

  “She didn’t deserve what happened to her, and Brandt doesn’t deserve to go unpunished for it.”

  “So high and mighty, aren’t you?” he sneered. “Yet, you had no problem trying to shoot him, did you? Just like you had no problem hitting him with a bat or using a stun gun on him. He came home with a jaw so swollen he could barely talk.”

  “But he went home conscious. If he comes at me again, I can’t guarantee he’ll go home at all—not while Donnie’s feeling trigger-happy. You understand that, don’t you, Mr. Moore? You understand that if you want your son safe, you need to get him under control?”

  “I came here in peace,” he said once again.

  “You came here to buy me off. It’s not the first time you’ve waved money at people to solve Brandt’s problems. If you weren’t a father who’s so quick to get out his checkbook to buy his son’s way out of trouble, you might have a better shot of keeping him in line. He’s used to Daddy saving his ass, so he doesn’t see the need to behave himself. It wouldn’t surprise me if he likes making you dance around and jump through hoops to get him out of trouble.”

  Cheeks reddening, he insisted, “Brandt didn’t beat that shifter. Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to keep that check and change your statement like a good little girl. Then, when you go before the council, you’ll tell them you can’t be sure who attacked her. If you don’t, you’ll find that the problems you’ve had so far were nothing.”

  She leaned forward. “Bring it.”

  “You need to step away from her,” rumbled a voice from behind her, loaded with menace. “And you need to do it now.”

  Shit. Gwen flicked Zander a strained smile over her shoulder. “Mr. Devlin, I’ll be with you shortly.”

  But Zander’s eyes were on Moore, and they were cold as ice. “You’re still standing too close to her. I don’t know why.”

  Moore lifted his chin. “Who the hell are you?”

  “That’s not important.”

  “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “I don’t care. Gwen doesn’t want you here, so leave.”

  Moore turned back to Gwen, mouth set into a flat line. “Make the right choice, Miss Miller.”

  “I already did. And I won’t be changing it.”

  He gave a curt nod. “So be it.” Then he was gone.

  Only once he’d driven away did Gwen shut the door. Turning, she found that her brother and Bracken had joined Zander. “Marlon, could you help Mr. Devlin with whatever he needs—I’ll be right back.” Because she needed some fucking air.

  As she made a beeline for the kitchen, she could hear Marlon trying to dissuade the shifters from following her. Shoving open the back door, she stepped out onto the deck and inhaled deeply. The cool air filled her lungs, soothing her.

  Sitting on the deck, she let her head drop forward. She was just so fucking tired of all this shit. Not that she intended to back down. Hell, no. She just didn’t want to be vilified for doing the right thing.

  Hearing the door creak open, she glanced over her shoulder to see Zander staring right at her, hundreds of questions in his eyes. Just fucking great.

  Zander hadn’t heard all of Gwen’s conversation with the human who’d just left, but he’d heard enough to grasp the gist of the situation. And he was fucking pissed. A female shifter had been assaulted, and neither the culprit nor his family gave a rat’s ass. In their eyes, the victim was inferior to them and deserved no justice simply because she was a shifter. In addition, Gwen was the only person who was prepared to stand up for that shifter, even though it meant going against her own kind—people who were clearly harassing her.

  His sister’s face flashed in his mind. Shelby had been thirteen when she was hit by stray bullets in a drive-by shooting. Several humans witnessed the incident and had identified the human shooter, but by the time the trial came around, all of them had “forgotten” relevant details. Why? Because running up to the trial, the bastard had pretended to be the victim, insisted that shi
fters were simply out to get humans. He’d riled up other anti-shifter humans, and they’d all focused their hate on Shelby, who’d suddenly become the guilty party. The witnesses had also been slated, and they’d eventually folded under the pressure.

  Shelby’s testimony hadn’t been enough, and the shooter had walked free. He’d later shot someone else, this time at point-blank range. The situation wasn’t the same as Gwen’s, but it was similar enough to bring back all the rage and contempt Zander had felt for the shooter and his prejudiced supporters.

  Nowadays, many anti-shifter humans grouped together. The extremists were violent, radical, and seemed to know no boundaries. They were known to use car bombs, grenades, and other explosives to attack shifters, their territories, and even their businesses—uncaring that there could be human casualties. They’d gotten so bad that even other humans were turning against them. Risking their wrath wasn’t advisable. Yet, Gwen was prepared to speak up for this female shifter who wouldn’t even speak up for herself. He admired that. Respected it. Appreciated it.

  “What was all that about?” Zander asked her.

  “Sorry if your sleep was disturbed by the visitor,” she said in that coolly polite and formal tone that, for some reason, offended him. “Marlon will prepare whatever you want for breakfast.” She faced forward once again as Marlon listed various options.

  Unwilling to be dismissed, Zander stepped off the deck and moved to block her view. “You didn’t answer my question.”

  Gwen swallowed a tired sigh. “If you’re worried that you might get caught up in what’s happening, we’ll certainly understand that and give you a refund.” Personally, she thought that was a pretty reasonable offer, but he didn’t appear to like it.

  “Tell me what’s happening.”

  Gwen frowned. He really thought she’d share her personal business with him? Surely he’d heard enough to understand that this was a private and very serious matter, one she wasn’t about to share with a complete stranger just to satisfy his curiosity. “You’re a guest here.”

  Not seeing what that had to do with anything, Zander pushed, “Tell me what’s going on.”

  “Look, Mr. Devlin—”

  “Zander. My name is Zander. Use it,” he clipped. He wasn’t sure why it bothered him that she didn’t, but he wasn’t sure of a lot of things when it came to Gwen Miller. His wolf had again backed away from her, and the situation was getting old, fast.

  “You’re a guest here.”

  “Yeah, you keep saying that. Not sure why you think it’s relevant.”

  “This doesn’t involve you. Like I said, we can sort you out with a refund—”

  “I don’t want a refund.” He squatted in front of her. “I want to know if I heard correctly, and you witnessed a shifter being physically assaulted.”

  She inhaled sharply. “Good hearing.”

  “You’re being pressured to change your statement?”

  Marlon sat beside her. “Pressured is an understatement. They’ve tried pretty much everything to make her do what they want.”

  Zander wondered just what “pretty much everything” entailed. “But you won’t give in?”

  She blinked. “Why would I?”

  “Some humans would prefer not to go against people like the asshole who was just here, especially when they’re being targeted this way.”

  Bracken leaned against the porch rail. “How long is it before the matter goes before the shifter council?”

  “A month,” said Marlon.

  “Where’s the girl?” asked Bracken.

  Gwen’s eyes snapped to his. “Why?”

  “We can offer her protection.”

  She tilted her head. “Why would you do that? From what I’ve heard, lone shifters aren’t exactly liked or trusted.”

  “Our pack is closely allied with another, and one of the members helps run a shelter for lone shifters,” Bracken explained. “She’d be safe there.”

  “She’s already safe.”

  “You’re hiding her,” Zander guessed.

  “Even though they bullied her into altering her statement, they kept terrorizing her; she needed somewhere to go.”

  Rising, Zander glanced around. “She’s living on your land in her animal form, isn’t she?”

  “Not sure why you’d think that.” With a sigh, Gwen stood. “Well, it’s been great talking to you, but I have work to do.”

  And he and Bracken had somewhere they needed to be, thought Zander, but he was reluctant to leave her. As he watched her walk away, he didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone who looked so lonely. There was an odd twinge in his chest.

  “She’ll be okay,” said Marlon. “She’s a lot tougher than she looks. Now, what can I make you guys for breakfast?” He again reeled off the menu. After Zander and Bracken placed their orders, Marlon retreated inside.

  Still leaning against the rail, Bracken said, “Not many humans would do what she’s doing for a shifter—hell, not many humans would do it for another human while being intimidated like that.” There was a great deal of respect in his voice. “Listen, I know you don’t like getting involved in other people’s shit. I’m not a big fan of it either. But . . .”

  “You want to stick around in case she needs help,” Zander sensed.

  Bracken pushed away from the rail. “I feel like we owe her. She’s not doing this for us—I know that. But what was done to the female shifter was a serious crime. And by standing up for one of our kind, Gwen’s placing herself in danger. We’d be bastards to just ignore that. I can’t. It’s not how I’m wired.”

  Zander scraped his hand over his jaw. “All this shit makes me think of what happened to Shelby.”

  “Me too. That bastard who shot her walked off into the sunset, free as a bird. Maybe we can make sure the same thing doesn’t happen to the little fucker that Gwen’s dealing with. I heard the way that human was talking to her just now. He’s not going to let this go. He’ll keep up the pressure. Gwen seems strong, but everyone has their limit. We could help, and I think we should.”

  “And you’re bored,” Zander pushed.

  “And I’m bored,” Bracken admitted. “But it’s more than that. Like I said, I feel like we owe her. Shelby’s like a sister to me. I hate what happened to her. If we walk away from Gwen and the shifter while they need help, we’re no better than the people who let Shelby down.”

  Zander sighed, turning his gaze to the view of the marsh. “You’re right.” The “but” was clear in his tone.

  “Why are you so reluctant to stay? Look, I’m not expecting you to sympathize with these females. I know empathy isn’t really your thing. But I also know that you’re a person who’s rarely daunted by anything. So, what’s holding you back? Is your wolf making it hard for you to be around Gwen?”

  “No, he’s not giving me a hard time. But I don’t know if he’d help me protect her. It’s possible that he’d even object to it. What use am I if, when she’s in danger, he pulls back so hard that I’m distracted?”

  Bracken frowned thoughtfully. “How did he react when you stepped in to warn away Moore just now?”

  “He didn’t react. Just stayed back. It’s almost like he’s hiding from her. What does that even mean?”

  Bracken’s mouth twitched. “It’s driving you insane that you can’t solve the mystery.”

  Damn right it was. “I don’t like puzzles.”

  “In my opinion, the only way you’ll figure it out is if you stick around awhile. But I’m not going to pressure you into staying. If you feel you need to go, go—I won’t judge you for that.”

  Zander snorted derisively. “Like I’d leave you on your own.” He, Bracken, and Jesse were like brothers; they’d stick together through anything. He sighed. “I’ll stay. It’s what Shelby would want me to do. And you’re right. Walking away would make us like those people who let her down.”

  “And you want to solve the mystery of your wolf’s reaction to Gwen. So do I. It’s kind of interesting.�
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  “Glad someone’s enjoying the puzzle.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not.” Zander tipped his chin toward the door. “Let’s get breakfast. Then we can go hear Dale’s will.”

  Zander flicked a look at the wall clock. Rory was late. Of course he was late. Everything had to revolve around him, so he was purposely making them wait for him. The bastard better fucking hurry, because the heavy scent of new paint was driving his senses crazy. Not even the strong smell of his coffee helped.

  Bracken didn’t seem bothered. He was busy watching the news on the wall-mounted TV. Although the volume was low, his shifter-enhanced hearing allowed Bracken to hear it perfectly, despite the continual ringing of the receptionist’s phone and the noises coming from the children in the toy corner.

  Zander had received a text message from Shelby informing him that she wouldn’t be coming. He wasn’t particularly surprised. He was also glad, because it meant she wouldn’t have to deal with Rory.

  With an inward sigh, Zander threw the newspaper he’d skimmed through back onto the coffee table. The young receptionist tried to catch his eye, but he didn’t play the game. His mind was on other things. Like the reading of the will. Like how likely it was that Rory would be an ass. And like the question of whether Nick would sanction Zander’s and Bracken’s requests to stay in Oregon for a while.

  He didn’t doubt that his Alpha would sympathize with Gwen and the female shifter’s situation, but Nick’s priority was the pack’s safety—especially since that pack included his mate and daughter. Also, Nick didn’t like outsiders; he wouldn’t put one before the needs of his pack, no matter the seriousness of the situation.

  The front door swung open, and in walked a male with the same face that Zander saw every day in the mirror. Rory looked smart and immaculately neat with his slicked hair, black suit, shiny shoes, and briefcase. He also looked amused as his gaze found Zander, like Rory knew something that he didn’t.

  Rory introduced himself to the receptionist, who blushed as she assured him that she’d alert the attorney of his arrival. He then strode over to Zander, halting in front of him. “Hello, brother.” It was a taunt, not a greeting.