Chapter Fifteen

Jemma spent the next two days bouncing between spending time with her mate, helping Jensen, and hanging out with Helen and Muriel. The entire den had been on edge as they waited for judgment to be carried out on Lawrence Walker. She’d seen Brock with blood splattered on him more than once, so she knew they were still interrogating Walker. Hopefully, they were torturing him, even if it was only a small measure of the suffering he’d brought on those he’d betrayed. Either way, it would all come to an end soon. In a few hours, Malachai was set to arrive with Titus Walker and the rest of those coming from Washington to join the Holloway den. Ruby was beside herself with excitement. It appeared as if Em and Malachai’s sisters, Jaeda and Sidia, were, as well. Xandra had already seen her older brother but seemed happy he was joining them.

“It seems unreal that the hunters have scattered, that Walker is finally going to get served justice,” Helen murmured as she, Jemma and Muriel had lunch outside Jasper’s cabin. Helen said they weren’t mated, but Jemma doubted it would be much longer.

“For how long?” Muriel whispered, anger in her voice as she glanced at the cabin behind her. “How long until someone else rises to unite them and it all begins again?”

“Are you okay?” Jemma asked.

“How much do we have to lose before it’s enough? Is it ever enough? Too many of us have died, and for what? Fear? Hate? My family was killed in the attacks when they happened. My mother, father, and brother. Gone. Jemma, you lost your parents, too.”

Jemma nodded, then Muriel turned to Helen.

“Both your parents gone. What you and your sister endured.” Muriel shuddered. “What all those females survived and are healing from. What Jasper endured. How many are still out there who we don’t know about? Who are still surviving and probably hoping someone will find them when we don’t even know where else to look?”

“We can’t think like that,” Jemma warned. “We can only keep looking, keep trying.”

“I’ve never been a violent person, but if I could get my hands on one of the hunters who hurt Jasper, who killed my family, I’d shred them to the bone with my claws. I’d rip them apart with me teeth until blood coated my fur.”

Jemma and Helen stared at Muriel. Muriel had always been the quiet one, the soft spoken one. The person who encouraged with a smile or laugh, who always looked at the bright side.

“Muriel, what’s going on?” Jemma probed.

“I don’t think Jasper’s going to make it,” she admitted.

“What?” Jemma demanded. “I heard he helped during the attack the other day.”

“He has bouts of strength, but it costs him every time. While he was captured, they did something to his blood. They vivisected him. Multiple times. Fucked with his insides. He…” She paused, swallowing. “I don’t think he’ll be able to beat what they did to him.”

“Oh, God.” Jemma reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand. If Jasper were Muriel’s mate, it would kill her to lose him.

“Is he your mate?” Helen finally asked as if she’d picked up on Jemma’s thoughts.

Muriel shook her head. “No, but I wish he was. He’s kind and good and everything I would have wished for.”

“Muriel?” Jemma questioned, sensing there was something more her friend held back.

“My mate was killed. During the attack. He’d come to ask my parents’ permission for the mating. He died instead. I swore then I’d never mate. Swore I’d give my heart to no other. Then I met Jasper. Now, I…” She stopped again, shaking her head as a lone tear trickled from her eye.

Jemma shared a look with Helen, seeing the same concern for Muriel in her friend’s gaze. Whatever happened, they’d have to be there for Muriel. She seemed far too fragile right now, as if one more hit might be all it took to break her down. Jemma would fight tooth and nail not to let that happen.

“Jemma!” Jensen called as he walked from his office toward where they sat. “Laramie wants the family at the house. Malachai’s ten minutes out. Brock said he’ll meet you there. Walk with me?”

“Muriel?” Jemma asked as her friend stood and dusted off her pants.

“I’ll keep an eye on Jasper while you’re gone. He’s been running a fever again,” Muriel said.

Jensen nodded, and Jemma noticed the concern etched on his face.

“I’ll stay with you,” Helen offered. “Fletch will know where to find me.”

Jemma thought briefly about staying, too but knew Brock would expect her there, with him. She paused to give both her friends a quick hug. She usually wasn’t so openly affectionate, but that was slowly changing. Brock’s influence probably. He and all his siblings were big on affection. The brothers were always hugging, patting or squeezing shoulders, laughing, and teasing. It was easy to see they were close. She wasn’t exactly sure how she was going to fit in, but they included her anytime she was around. They accepted her as one of them with no reservation. That was a lot for someone who’d been an only child then been kept in isolation during her formative teenage years.

“You okay?” Jensen asked as they walked.

“I’m… Do you think Jasper will recover?”

Jensen’s shoulders tensed before he shook his head. “No. At most, I can buy him some time. It’s a miracle he’s survived as long as he has.”

“Does he know?”

“He’s the one who told me when I went to get him in Oklahoma. They cut…” He stopped, lifting his face toward the sky and exhaling. “The things they did to him would give you nightmares.”

“Is there anything we can do for him?”

Jensen shook his head then started walking again. Jemma followed. She’d noted the devastation in his eyes. It added another layer to the way he’d come unraveled when Lawrence Walker was brought in. She caught up, grabbed his hand, and gave it a squeeze. There wasn’t anything she could offer other than comfort. If Jensen couldn’t figure out how to save Jasper, she doubted anyone could. He squeezed her fingers back, making her realize it wasn’t just Brock she was falling in love with. It was the Holloway family.

“Damn, looks like he was closer than he said,” Jensen said as they heard Ruby yelling.

“Is my daddy! Put me down! Is my daddy! Daddy! Daddy! I’s here! I’s right here!”

Jemma watched as Laramie slowly leaned down, so Ruby could stand in front of him. She patted his face then took off at a run for the big man who’d stepped out of the SUV. Malachai Blackstone was maybe a couple of inches shorter than the Holloway brothers, but then the Holloways were all between six-feet-five inches and six-six. His hair had thick dark waves, and though she couldn’t see his face, she’d bet anything he had the same big, green eyes as his daughter. The same as Sidia and Jemma. The Blackstone eyes. Malachai squatted and caught his daughter against his chest, swinging her high before nuzzling her. Her squeals of delight filled the air.

“I pa’tected Mama Em. I did it. And you pa’tected you!” she exclaimed.

“You did good, Baby Bear.” Malachai’s voice was deep and rich with emotion.

Jemma paused with Jensen, watching as Em ran forward, flinging herself against him. He lifted her in a hard hug, and Ruby giggled louder, throwing her arms around both of them. Laramie stood back and watched, and Jemma couldn’t help but wonder how he managed to keep himself in check while his mate hugged another man.

“Malachai!”

His head lifted, tracking his sisters as the twins, Sidia and Jaeda, both raced toward him. Em stepped back with a grin, wiping tears as she moved back to her mate and let the siblings greet each other. Ruby clung to her father, as if she were afraid he might disappear on her again, if she let him go. It struck something deep inside Jemma, making her remember a time she’d hugged her own father just as fiercely. She drifted away from Jensen’s side, moving so she had a better view of where the rest of the family stood on the other side of the SUV. Her gaze skimmed over them in search of her mate, but Brock wasn’t there.

“About time you got your sorry ass here,” Xandra called from where she stood next to her mate.

“What? No big hug from you, sis?” Malachai called back.

Xandra snorted and rolled her eyes. Declan laughed as he glanced down at his mate. Xandra wasn’t known for her affectionate side.

The passenger door of the vehicle behind Malachai’s opened, and a male stepped out. He wasn’t as big, not as broad, but his bearing showed the shifter arrogance all the males inherently seemed to have. Jemma took him in briefly. Shoulder-length blond hair. Lean frame. Six feet. Maybe slightly under. She was already dismissing him when she saw a glint tracing a path across the hood of the vehicle as he stepped around. It didn’t matter who he was. Instinct took over as she ran for him.

“Gun!” she screamed, causing the blond male to turn. The bullet hit him in the shoulder, though she feared it had been aimed at his heart. She hit him hard, taking him to the gravel and rolling with him until they were on the other side of the truck he’d stepped out of.

“Everyone down!” Laramie thundered.

Screams and roars filled the air. People moved all around her, running for cover or in pursuit of where the shot had come from. She heard the pings as more shots were fired, but the element of surprise was gone. She glanced down at the male beneath her. His jaw was clenched tight, teeth bared as he breathed heavily. One arm was banded around her waist, keeping her to him, though he was obviously injured and bleeding heavily.

“Ease up,” Jemma ordered, patting his arm. “Let me take a look at you.”

She straddled his stomach as she ripped his shirt wide, inspecting the entry point of the bullet. He hissed as she moved him enough to check for an exit point. There wasn’t one.

“Shit.” She pressed her hands against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. “Jensen!”

“Usually, I know a woman’s name before she starts ripping off my clothes.”

She laughed at the humor in his gaze. “I’m Jemma, and don’t let my mate hear you say that.”

“Why are all the good ones mated?” he murmured then groaned when she increased the pressure.

“Trying to stop the bleeding,” she explained. “Jensen!”

“You saved my life.”

“Not yet,” she muttered as more blood slipped between her fingers.

“That shot was meant to kill me. If you hadn’t called out when you did, it would have.”

“Jen—” She cut off as he landed on his knees next to her.

“Shoulder. No exit wound. I can’t get the bleeding under control,” she spouted out, relaying the information Jensen would need. She kept the pressure tight while he did a visual inspection.

“Hell of a greeting you’ve been given, Titus.”

Jemma glanced up as Malachai squatted beside them.

“Looks like someone doesn’t like the idea of me being here,” Titus agreed.

“Friend or foe?” Malachai mused.

“Easy answer for me,” Titus offered with a snort. “Hopefully, a friend wouldn’t try to kill me.”

“Good eye.” Malachai directed that comment toward Jemma.

A familiar roar split the air and sent chills down Jemma’s spine.

“That would be your mate who’s going to lose his shit when he sees you covered in blood,” Jensen warned.

Jemma glanced down. “Shit.”

“If he’s the jealous type, maybe you should move,” Titus suggested. “Despite the way I look, I don’t really want to die today.”

“Jemma!” Brock roared her name.

“I’m here!” she called.

“Bleeding’s slowing,” Malachai murmured as Brock appeared. His gaze swept over them before landing on his mate.

“It’s not my blood. I’m not hurt,” she told him as he prowled toward her. “Malachai, take over.”

She was already easing back when Brock reached her, his hands gripping under her arms and lifting her off Titus. Brock crushed her against his chest before pushing her back and running his hands over her body.

“I’m fine. I swear,” she tried to soothe.

“Fuck!” he breathed into her hair before taking her lips with no thoughts of the audience around them.

“Help me get him inside,” Jensen said, drawing their attention. “I need to get the bullet out before his bear tries to heal him.

“Sorry for the shit welcome,” Malachai offered as he helped Jensen get Titus on his feet. Brock released her to help, as well.

“It’s clear!” Holt called as he moved quickly toward them. “Milo caught the shooter.”

“One of ours?” Brock asked.

Holt nodded.

“I’ve never had anyone hate me before they even met me.” Titus gave a half-hearted grin, but Jemma saw the pain he tried to hide.

“So, you admit people hate you,” Malachai teased, and Titus gave a laugh that quickly morphed into a groan.

“Walker’s not a real popular name to have here,” Holt shared with a shrug.

“Yeah,” Titus agreed, looking defeated. “Coming here was probably a bad idea.”

“Don’t give up yet,” Jemma advised. “No one liked me when I first got here, either.”

All five men stared at her, but it was Holt who laughed. Brock left Titus between Malachai and Jensen and moved back to her, scooping her up into his arms.

“You got this, Jensen?” he asked, but his gaze stayed on Jemma.

“Holt can help if I need it,” his brother answered as they moved away.

Brock dropped another kiss on her lips. “Let’s get cleaned up, then I’ll show you how much I like you.”

“Why don’t you show me while we clean up,” she whispered, nipping his ear.

“I plan to,” he promised and carried her inside and downstairs to their room.