Chapter Eight

I looked over the countryside in front of me and tried to muster some excitement for the foreign landscape I had dreamed of visiting one day, but couldn't muster an ounce of enthusiasm. I only felt like slipping away to lick my wounds in solitude and let the world pass me by. The darkness was enticing and my fortitude was weak. The will to endure was all but a candle ready to be snuffed out by a gentle breeze.

"Jez," Jason called me out of the hole I was digging myself into. "There is someone I want you to meet," he gestured over to the man that approached us.

He looked scary. He had a shaved head and broad shoulders. His presence was one that wasn't overwhelmingly abrasive, but the promise of retaliation if he was slighted was evident. As he got closer his mouth stretched into a kind smile and his warm brown eyes burned with compassion and understanding shredding the illusion that he was capable of cruelty.

"Jason has told me a lot about you, I'm Carlos," he introduced and skipped a handshake and pulled me in for a hug. I immediately stiffened at the contact and his unwelcomed familiarity, but couldn't find the strength or want to push him away. My wolf whined in my head at the urge to pull away as she was desperate for consolation. I was reminded how wolves needed touch and how the touch I really wanted, I would never feel again.

I gasped and felt the burning in my eyes and nose before I surrendered to the embrace of his strong arms. Without a word or judgement Jason pulled me to his chest and held me like a small child, my weight supported by one arm while the other supported my head into his shoulder. I could feel him moving inside a house as the sounds changed and he was talking to Carlos, but I was unaware of what was said.

"I made a huge mistake," I cried, but my voice was muffled by my sobs and being pressed into Jason's chest as he began to rock me like an infant. The motion was soothing but it was like trying to fix a blown artery with a Band-Aid.

"Here, drink this Jez, it will help," Jason offered a glass to my lips and tipped my head back as I swallowed the liquid. My broken mind couldn't even register what I was ingesting, much less how it tasted as my nose was so clogged with mucous from my crying. I just remember my cries settling and exhaustion hitting me after a few minutes as Jason patiently held me tightly. He was soothingly petting me, keeping my hair out of my face even though I wanted to hide behind it, rubbing my shoulders and back as the ragged breaths and sobs made my muscles spasm.

Finally I relaxed and fell into a sedated dreamless coma like state. They said I slept for two days before I really awoke ready to face the world again.

Jason was there when I woke up. I didn't want to move, I wanted to just lay there and die. Wither away to nothing and fade away. What was the point of living anyway? It was Jason who finally got me to see reason. He yelled for what seemed like hours. He ranted at me about how much of a waste it would be if I just gave up and the gist of it all was that I needed to get my lazy ass out of bed if I was going to find a reason to live. I don't know if I got out of that bed because I believed him, or if I just wanted him to stop yelling at me, but the result was that Jason got what he wanted, and that was some sense knocked into me. It was just enough sense to pull me out of the storm long enough to find work to keep my mind busy and away from the cause of my pain.

I don't know how long I worked in the garage the first day; I just remember Jason carrying me to bed as the sun peeked over the treetops. It was another month before I started to get angry and actually started participating in conversations with Carlos. My entire world was completely simplified. I worked on the maintenance problems around the house and garage, and I listened to Jason and Carlos talking about ops on hunters, homicidal shifters, rogues that were out of hand, anything that interrupted the peaceful balance our kind had with humans and one another.

"I want to work with you as a mercenary," I said confidently at breakfast to Carlos.

Carlos raised a calculating eyebrow at me. "I'm not sure that is a good idea," he dismissed me and I felt the rage come forward.

"I need to, at least let me train and if you think I can do a job, I get a job, but not before you think I'm ready for one," I requested. I marveled at how defeated I was. I would have never come so close to begging before….

"Jason, would you like to train her?" he asked.

"I think it would be good for her to learn some more advanced technique, and it would definitely help get her into better shape," Jason remarked.

"I'm in good shape," I protested.

Carlos and Jason just smirked at me.

"We'll leave in the afternoon," Carlos nodded to Jason and I before standing and flashing us a kind smile before exiting the kitchen and out the back door.

"Why do we have to leave?" I asked Jason.

"Because it isn't safe to train you here, not enough space or acreage," he explained.

I found myself in the mountains days later, and learned that they were right, I was not in shape. I was however in a frozen hell. I could hardly breathe as my body protested my every move. My muscles were threatening to give out on me with each step. I thought I was going to get my wish from weeks ago, but now the thought of fading away in these desolate mountains sparked my wolf into action. Push. The chant was relentless in my head.

Time seemed to pass differently for me in the mountains in the isolated quiet as I surrendered to my wolf. We were in survival mode. When Jason had sent me into the icy wasteland I had been skeptical of how it was beneficial for me to navigate through alone while they drove around. It was clear now. Survive. Push. Survive. I would not crumble so easily, I had loose ends to manage before I left this world behind. Like Madigan.

With that thought I was flying across the treacherous landscape boldly navigating. Push. Survive. Go. I leapt and bounded, I slid and maneuvered with graceful speed. I followed the landmarks that Jason had drilled into my head before I departed and just as I broke through the tree line to the warm lodge in the wilderness I let out a soulful howl to alert Jason that I was okay and for the first time, I actually felt like I could live my life even though the pain was damn near crippling.

The door to the lodge ripped open and Jason was holding me before I could blink or even lick his face I was inside as he was wrapping me in a blanket and setting me by the fire. I shifted back, thankful that I was covered, but not for modesty so much as the cold was still lingering in my bones.

"She's back already?" Carlos asked intrigued.

"I know I can't believe it," Jason mumbled as he wrapped my hands around a warm cup before putting my feet into warm water. I took a sip from the mug and almost spit it out, because I had never tasted something so bitter in my life. I looked down and swallowed the offending liquid thinking it was some kind of medicine. The warmth spread through my throat and into my stomach and I pushed away the urge to pinch my nose shut as I drank some more.

Carlos chuckled at me, "Here, try it with some of this," as he handed me a bowl with sugar and a spoon.

"Thanks," I replied and added heaping amounts before stirring it in and taking another sip. The change in taste was spectacular. I hummed my enjoyment as the sweet and bitter warmth further spread through me and I was slowly coming back to my senses when I realized I was drinking coffee.

"I didn't know that coffee could taste this good, " I commented.

"Well you better get used to it, it's about the only thing we drink around here besides water," Jason replied.

It was months before I got to leave the icy fortress in the mountains. I was solely focused on training when I was brought to a small village in Russia. Just before you got to the middle of nowhere again there was a beautiful home that looked like a palace compared to the cozy little homes in the village. Back in the states, this house would look like an eyesore, but it was homey and inviting. I couldn't quite bring myself to feel happy about it, just grateful to be out of the cold wind as we entered. The sound of two men arguing greeted us.

"Clean up your shit Tommy," one growled out.

"Don't touch that!" who I assumed to be Tommy yelled back.

"Dean! Tommy!" Carlos boomed and I heard the pounding of feet racing toward us before I instinctively readied myself in a defensive position at Carlos' tone.

"Carlos!" a slim built shifter called out and pulled him into one of those man bro hugs as he emerged into the living room space.

"Tommy," Carlos greeted with a nod.

"Boss," greeted a second Shifter that had to be Dean was even more intimidating looking than Carlos was before I saw him smile. He had a similar buzz cut with tattoos running up and down his arms.

"Jason!" Tommy called out in surprise, "It's good to see you," he greeted enthusiastically before hugging him as well.

The big guy just nodded to Jason before their gazes settled on me.

"Who's this beauty you brought with you?" Tommy flirted shamelessly.

My wolf and I both snapped. If Jason hadn't and Carlos hadn't have been there to grab me, I would have definitely hurt him. The rage that opened up in me was dangerous and power was seeping off of me in waves demanding respect.

"Excuse you, Tommy, but the better question would be, why is there an Alpha female with you," the big guy nodded to me with respect and showed me submission by diverting his eyes and showing me his neck. This pleased me and I stilled in Jason and Carlos' hold.

"This is Jez, I called about her a while back," Jason explained.

Recognition flashed on Dean's face before Tommy caught on, but I was starting to think that Tommy was more of a do before thinking type of person.

"I thought she__"

"No," Jason cut him off before he could finish his sentence and I was suspiciously calculating the next words he was going to say were probably, ‘I thought she had a mate.'

The big guy looked at me with a new understanding and moved forward slowly and calculated, making sure that he didn't offend me. "I'm Dean," he offered me his hand.

"I'm not an Alpha," I replied as I grasped his hand politely.

"Hon, you can deny that all you want, but your power reads Alpha, as does your behavior," Carlos said simply. "Now, I'm going to get me a cup of coffee and drop my bags in my room, Jason can show you to your new room here."

Jason and I walked up the stairs and my room was right across the hall from his. I was grateful that he was going to be close to me, because for the past few months I had woken up nearly every night crying from my dreams and Jason was there to hold me as I fell back asleep comforted in the safety of his protective and comfort he brought me. I had asked him once if there was any chance that he was my father, but he replied regrettably that no, there was no chance, but the implication was there that his actions and care for me was clear that I and my wolf recognized him as such.

"Get some rest Jezzy," Jason embraced me and I inhaled his sent that felt more and more like sanctuary. "I'm right across the hall if you need me," he whispered before kissing my forehead and leaving me to settle in.

What could have only been a couple hours later he was pulling me into his arms as I was waking from another nightmare.

"Shhh," he soothed, "I'm here, it's okay," he cooed as I grew silent and inhaled the scent of safety from his neck.

He held me securely but not so tight that I was suffocating.

"I'm sorry," I apologized, feeling guilty for being such a burden.

"There's nothing to apologize for Jezzy, I hadn't went to sleep yet," he reassured me.

I fell silent for a while as I tried to pull my mind away from the dark thoughts trying to invade my mind.

"You're scars are fading," Jason remarked as he ran a hand over my shoulder blade.

"I hadn't noticed," I replied, my voice sounding weak and pitiful. I hated it.

"Won't be long now and we'll be getting you your first tattoo," he remarked.

"Really?" I questioned, more at the fact that he mentioned me getting a tattoo and I had never even entertained the idea of getting one.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a tradition for rogues to get the rogue's mark right here," Jason explained and touched the back of my neck.

"Oh," I replied lamely.

"Then after your first job, we'll get you the mercenary tattoos," he continued. "They'll go here," and he touched the top of my shoulders on my back.

"I thought that Shifter's metabolized everything too fast to have anything permanent like that," I replied.

"That's why you get special ink that is enchanted by witches," Jason replied.

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Witches?" I prompted skeptically.

"We exist, why not witches, vampires, and zombies," he commented lightly.

"Seriously?" I asked not bothering to mask the sarcastic doubt.

"Seriously, zombies are pretty rare and don't last long, but vampires have been around nearly as long as Shifters, a witches' coven is a wonderful ally to us, and they do great work," Jason showed me his arm that had glyphs going down it that were delicately penned on his skin. It was entrancing looking at the tattoo, and I had no idea what it meant.

"What does it say?" I asked tracing the strange lettering with my index finger.

"Carmen," Jason answered with sadness and regret.

"Yours?" I asked, and I knew I didn't have to elaborate.

He nodded to me. Carmen was the mate that he would never get to settle down with. The wicked bitch's name was Carmen.

"Why?" I asked.

"By the time that I finally found her, she was already pregnant from an arranged marriage her parents facilitated because she was getting too old to be an unmated female," Jason explained.

"Arranged? That should be illegal," I spat disgustedly.

"It used to be, but over the years the pack laws have allowed more and more rules to be made to facilitate advantageous unions for powerful wolves without mates. No one wants to wait for fate anymore," Jason said forlornly.

I hugged Jason tighter to me as I tried to comfort him, and we laid there in silence until I fell asleep. He must have left as soon as I fell back asleep, because like always the bed was cold and his scent was faded and nearly undetectable. I went through the motions, focused on my goal as I dressed for the day. I brushed my teeth and dressed in my work out clothes. It was still dark out as I had become accustomed to not sleeping as much, knowing that if I let myself I wouldn't get out of it and Jason would kick my ass again. The smell of leather and sweat called to me as I made my way to the basement where Jason had told me the gym was.

It wasn't anything elaborate just a reinforced heavy bag, a treadmill, and a weight bench. I started my day on the treadmill. I put music on and ran at a steady brisk pace and focused on my breathing. I meditated as I moved. The world fell away as my muscles pumped and my lungs burned from the exertion, but after a few minutes it all just settled. I could move and there was no burn as my body fell into the rhythm. A sheen of sweat coated my skin as the tendrils of my hair began to stick to my scalp.

"Jason said you'd be down here," Dean said as he entered the basement and made his way to the front of the treadmill.

"Can I help you?" I asked not changing my pace. I had done maybe five miles and I had another five to go.

"We are having breakfast upstairs, thought you'd might like to join us," Dean offered.

"Tell Jason to make a plate for me and leave it in the oven," I ordered without even thinking about it.

"Look, if you want to be a mercenary then you are going to have to be a part of the team, and a big part of that is eating with us," Dean argumentatively offered.

"I'm not a merc until I do my first job, so I need to train for that," I responded.

"You won't go on a job alone, and you definitely won't go with us until we know you, so come have breakfast with us," Dean reasoned. I grimaced at the memories that threatened to push through. Stefan argued with me like that.

"Fine," I conceded, just wanting to stop arguing. I couldn't argue with him without thinking dark thoughts.

I made my way upstairs wiping my face with a towel as I entered the kitchen. The chatter stopped and Jason came forward with a bottle of water.

"Have a seat Jez," Carlos gestured next to him and I found myself sinking onto the worn down chair.

"Thank you," I mumbled as I drank the water.

"We were just discussing the best strategies to eliminate specific threats," Carlos supplied.

"Like what?" I asked slightly intrigued as Jason set a plate in front of me heaping with sausages, eggs, and toasted bread. I hadn't had this full a meal since I started training. Jason smiled at me and I tried to smile back but could only manage what was probably a very unattractive grimace.

"Okay, two story house, two entrances, five assailants, one by each door, one in the kitchen monitoring cameras, two upstairs guarding the goods." Carlos supplies. "How do you get in and out with the goods?"

"Roof access through the window," I comment.

"How do you bypass the cameras?" Tommy asks.

"Are they rotating or still cameras?" I inquire.

"Still," Carlos says.

"Every security camera set up has blind spots, and more than likely they aren't high tech enough to stream, so it takes a still image every few seconds." I say, "I'm fast enough to get up to the roof without being detected. Most cameras don't focus on getting close to the building since whoever is the eye in the sky doesn't think they will have to watch the walls."

"Not bad," Tommy comments.

"How do you take out the guards?" Dean asks.

I had to chew and swallow before I could answer.

"Stun guns," I shrug.

"Up close and personal type huh," Tommy smirks with eyes that say he's thinking about something dirty.

"How do you get out?" Carlos redirects before I can snarl at Tommy's comment.

"What's the package?" I ask.

"Does it matter?" he asks.

"Yeah, if I can carry it out then I'd just go back out the window, but if it's too big then I'd have to take out the guys downstairs," I answer.

"The package is a young girl," Carlos says and puts a file folder in front of me.

I almost choked on my food. I got my first job.

"Now here is how it is going to work," Carlos began, pulling down a screen over the wall that was covered in surveillance photos.

The team was in place, I just had to wait for them to draw the attention on the other side of the house. Their car alarms going off was my signal. The piercing sound sent me flying over the yard and up the side of the house. Once I was on the roof I opened my senses and heard the girl's heartbeat fluttering. She was scared. I could hear the boys talking in my ear telling me to get in the room.

"I'm on it," I said and I dropped over the window and unlocked it with a knife before shoving it open. In an ungraceful swing I went in feet first and slipped inside. I spotted the girl first. Duct tape covered her mouth, her eyes were swollen from crying and her wrists were raw from the rope binding them. I darted to her and missed the guy in the corner who charged me. He sliced at me and missed. I had barely blinked when the man's wrist was broken and his throat was torn out. The little girl was screaming and alerted the other guard. I pulled the knife from the dead guy's hand as I felt him charge at me. I spun low and came up slicing his abdomen before plunging the knife into his cervical spine.

"I've got you honey," I said calmly and began untying her hands.

"We're all clear," Carlos's voice came through the comms. "Jez, you got the package?"

"Affirmative," I confirmed. "We're coming down," I said, as I pulled the ropes away and the tape.

She cried in my shoulder as I picked her up. She was maybe thirteen. Macie would be thirteen by now. I held her close as we descended the stairs. The team waited by the SUV we had stolen from the guys holding her. She didn't speak English but I didn't need to know Russian to know gratitude when I heard it. We brought her into the back of the van where her parents took her from my arms fussing over her. She had blood covering the front of her clothes and I wracked my brain trying to figure out where she had gotten hurt.

"Jez!" Jason called out to me and pulled my shoulders so I faced him. "You're hurt," he confirmed, looking at my chest.

I looked down at my shirt and saw that it was shredded open and blood was covering my torso and chest. The wound wasn't fatal and it was closing. "But I'm alive," I smiled at Jason. It wasn't a smile of joy, more like one of relief. I had made it.

The shreds of the person I was before were fading away and I was doing something good. I looked up at the roof of the van and I felt high. The adrenaline was still pumping through me and I watched the girl being held by her parents and I knew. I had found out for sure that I was better off. I had survived.

It was late when we got back home that night. We had went out to celebrate as a team. I'd drunk enough to be tipsy and when I was alone in my room was when it all hit me. Not only did I know how much I had changed in the last few months, I had survived by the grit of my teeth. I was turning into something else. I was no longer a broken girl hung up on the horrible things life had dealt me; I was a living breathing weapon that could do something about it other than escape. The mirror of my vanity showed a girl who looked na?ve and hid behind her hair. She looked young and weak. I looked at my long dark hair. It was beautiful really, the way it naturally had gentle waves. Stefan had buried his fingers in this hair and loved it.

The first cut was freeing and with each cut the weight of my past fell away. I wouldn't hide behind it anymore. I didn't have to be a pack hound, or anything I didn't want to be. I was a rogue mercenary.

Jason came up behind me and took the scissors away from me. I thought he would scold me for cutting off my dark locks but instead he nodded in understanding and continued cutting my hair. I shook out the rest of it, marveling at how light my head felt. The locks were completely gone and I barely had enough hair to cover my ears.

"Come on, I've got everything set up for your first tattoo," Jason nudged me out the door. It was time to officially own my title. Rogue Mercenary.

Five years later

Push. Survive. Push. Go. Fight. Like a chant that was never ending I fought. My hands coated in blood as I ripped through bodies. My own body felt numb as the adrenaline coursed through me. Push. My wolf hadn't even batted a lash at anything except blood and I relished these moments that our rage fueled what was left of the fire in my soul. The rage was like a drug that kept me sane. Survive. I could live through this hell as I had countless other wastelands. This was simple and uncomplicated. Eliminate the target, and get paid. All the more gratifying were my targets occupations made them enemies anyway. Hunters, the lot of them were born of betrayal and hate and they died accordingly. They were like a plague that was threatening the very existence of our kind, even the way of the rogue. Their operations had evolved as well as humans had and hadn't. The technology was incredible, but the mindset had stayed the same. Fight. I will fight until I take my last breath.

With a final slash of my blade my last enemy fell at my feet, a clean kill, quick and nearly painless. I breathed in the smell of death and triumphed that I was still among the living. I was a weapon. My body, my mind, and my spirit were honed and trained for one thing, combat in all battlefields. I was strong, and I had my team to credit for my transformation. In two years I was added into the group and started getting a cut of the real money. Every job offered me the escape I needed to stop thinking about Stefan.

If I let myself think about it, I knew I was only a half a person. My wolf was powerful, but uninterested in anything that wasn't fighting, anger, or hunting. She didn't feel sad, for that matter, neither did I, we felt numb. The ability to feel anything other than rage was back with him, and we couldn't even feel sad about it, just empty.

The first year or so was hell. Every feeling was still there like a memory. I'd cry at the drop of a hat, and other days I'd go off and drink myself into a numb oblivion just to stop the howling in my head. My wolf begged me to go back. Once she even tried to rip me to shreds from the inside out. It was a year before we both agreed that we would move on.

It came as a surprise to me when I discovered that even the rogues had a respect for pack life, because it was a testament to our history and culture. There was so much to learn about it that I still ask questions on nearly every job. Carlos was a historian for his pack before hunters burned their homes and killed nearly all of his pack. He was forced to go rogue because no other pack wanted to risk the heat of taking him in and their packs facing a similar fate. He knew more about the pack laws and culture than I could ever hope to learn.

We had houses all over Europe, but our favorite was in a small town in Russia. We had made our own little rogue family out there. Carlos was like the wise old grandpa. Jason was the dad, always keeping an eye out for us and knowing what we were up to, especially me. Dean and Tommy were like overprotective brothers, and I was the youngest sister. For the first time in my life I knew what having family was. My wolf had even taken a liking to them. She was as protective as I was of them.

"Well, now I really need a shower and a drink," Jason quipped as he made his way over to me. With one look at me with both blades in my hands and he smirked. "I think we might have to hose you down outside so you don't track blood on the floor, hon."

"It wouldn't be the first time," I shrugged and tried to find a dry place on my clothes that didn't have cooling blood on it to wipe my knives off before sheathing them. I finally said fuck it and slid them home, dreading the amount of cleaning I was in for later.

Jason understood my need for blood. The rest of the guys didn't judge me for it, they knew enough not to say anything. They knew that I had a mate out there, but for all they know he had rejected me for being rouge and I didn't care to relive the entire thing and tell them what had happened.

The job was over and after cleaning up we headed home on a plane. Our little house was the only real home I had ever known and for the last five years it had been my refuge and my room looked like a sadistic serial killer lair, but with a second glance you notice that there is only one target; the one hunter that had caused me so much pain, Madigan.

I was deep in my research, tracking accounts, hacked security footage Tommy had found, and possible locations when Dean knocked on the frame of my open door.

"Come on darling, get your coat, it's time for dinner and fun, not more work, the madman will still be there tomorrow," Dean coaxed me out of my zone.

"Okay, just give me five minutes," I nodded and started wrapping up what I was in the middle of.

Every time we finished a job we would go out, and the moment the alcohol would touch my tongue I would think about the horrible fight Stefan and I had when I was drunk. It really was my fault, I acted like a total bitch and I was wasted which didn't help things. I was young and traumatized. I was not a good pick for an Alpha Female. I had done him a favor probably.

"Stop thinking about him and take another drink!" Carlos commanded smacking me on the back.

"Fine, but you're buying." I laughed; easily masking the hollow feeling on the inside.

A shot of Vodka was poured in front of me, and not the cheap kind from the states, genuine Russian vodka. We were in a pub in the middle of a small village in Russia outside of St. Petersburg. We were home and we were celebrating vigorously. We played quarters well into the night, drinking ourselves underneath the table. The vodka began to taste like warm water as we continued to become more and more inebriated, or at least I did. Somehow the guys got me to my bed room that night of which I have no recollection.

With sluggish steps I made my way to the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I still had the same black hair, now it was grown out in a bob just under my chin. I didn't need the hair to cover scars I no longer hid. The guys must have stripped my clothes from my body last night when putting me to bed because I was in my bra and undies. My tattoos stood out incredibly in the bright light. The symbol for the rogue was on the back of my neck, a radial design with the lone wolf's insignia. Down my arm in the Shifter glyphs was Macie's name. On each shoulder blade I had the mercenary tattoos, one for achievements of honor and things like that; the other kept track of your number of kills. From my right hip down to the middle of my thigh on the outside of my leg I had tribal art that was really my paw print in shape and the design was incredibly intricate the closer you were to it. Each shape was a web of small maze designs.

As I went through my normal morning rituals I felt my wolf stir inside me. It was odd, for the last few years she had lain quietly inside of me, only coming out to exert rage and hostility, but I knew she felt as depressed as I did most of the time. I mean I still think about him every single day. Something must be going on, because she only moves if there is danger. By this time I had on a pair of my favorite tight cargo pants that I'd had specially made to carry lots of stuff but be flexible and fit tightly enough that they don't fall off when I need to maneuver. I also had on a red tank top with spaghetti straps I had cut off at the belly button so air could cool off the majority of my skin, but outside in Russia, I had to wear a jacket just like a human would.

I pulled a black duffle bag from under my bed and started "suiting up." I used a lot of blades, just because I like to be up close and personal for my kills. If you are far away, it just means that you have the better weapon, not the better skill. That's just me though, I like to be sure that they won't get back up.

I did carry a gun in case someone ever pulled a gun on me; you never bring a knife to a gunfight. I can throw them pretty quick, but not as fast and easily aimed as a gun. A .9 mm went on my hip, a .38 in my boot, and a sawed off shotgun sat on my nightstand. I always made sure that I had a weapon around no matter how safe I felt, I never quite felt safe without one. I couldn't have sex without a knife within reach. That sounds really messed up but at least I was able to have sex right?

I stealthily moved down the stairs, begging the wood not to creak as I stepped. The entire time I made sure to shield my power. When I came to the mercs they told me I had to learn to control it or else everything we hunted would be able to tell I was an Alpha. I argued with them till I was blue in the face that I was not an Alpha but my energy still read Alpha. So I learned some shielding techniques with Jason and I got so good at it, that I could pass for human in a room full of shifters.

I made my way downstairs and saw the guys all around the small breakfast nook, where Jason was cooking up a mess of food for everyone.

"Ah, the princess rises!" Carlos joked. "Hey why don't you ever cook for us, you are a girl,"

I smacked him up-side his head," You sexist idiot, you would probably die from my cooking,"

"She's right, I tried to teach her how to cook once, and it didn't go well." Jason laughed.

I glared as the other boys laughed. Dean and Tommy were rolling with laughter and tears coming out of their eyes.

"I'm a fighter, not a domestic bone in my body," I smirked and leafed through a file folder of new intel Tommy had left for me that I hadn't gotten to last night before heading out.

"Come on, Jez, no hunting before breakfast," Jason scolded like a mother hen, pointing at the folder with a wooden spoon.

"I'm just looking, I didn't get through it all last night," I whined.

"It can wait until after breakfast," Tommy piped in, "Just the usual stuff, ATM stills, credit card transactions, and ebay bids,"

I rolled my eyes at them but closed the file.

"Any leads on a new job yet?" I asked.

"No hunting before breakfast," Jason swore.

"Fine," I growled.

"The neighbors are getting suspicious of us," Dean attempted to make conversation.

"They said a strange guy has been asking around the town how to get up our mountain." Carlos chimed in.

"It is probably a client," I shrugged it off.

"Yeah, but this one is American," Tommy smiled.

This was news. No one from the states had ever contacted us, more than likely because they didn't know about us. Which I didn't doubt was due to their pride in their larger packs, afraid to admit that they need help. What if it was Madigan…no, he couldn't find me out here. He wasn't allowed back.

"Who could be looking for us from the states?" I wondered aloud.

"Could be the dude you've been hunting for the last few years," Dean answered, not truly understanding the impact that would have on me.

Jason stiffened.

I glared at him, "I can only hope that bastard was stupid enough to come back to Russia, the reward for him would set us up for life,"

"Your words are optimistic, but your face says ‘I'll murder you in the shower'" Dean leaned away from me.

"Besides, he was in the states as of…" I glanced at the latest surveillance photo to check the time and date. "four hours ago, and every day before that."

"Madigan wouldn't be stupid enough to come overseas, too dangerous for him," Jason reassured me.

"I wish I could figure out where he will be next, but I'm always just a few hours behind," I complained.

"I'm working on getting a phone number so we can track him," Tommy answered.

Jason began pushing plates of food in front of us. We all grew silent as we devoured the delicious meal. It wasn't until I was moving to the sink to start dishes that Carlos, Dean, and Tommy left the room and began chatting in the study/living room; that Jason stopped me.

"It could be him you know," Jason looked at me pointedly, I knew who he meant.

"Don't Jason," I begged. "Don't get my hopes up only to have them ripped away."

"Sorry Jezzy, I just… I know there isn't hope for me to find that kind of happiness, so I hope that you do." He admitted.

"He is better off without me," I repeated for what seemed like the thousand and first time.

"Perhaps," Jason answered.

"I can't let myself wonder or I'll end up on a plane to the states, now if I am wrong, by the gods he better show up on that doorstep and whisk me away," I griped.

A single knock on the front door silenced everyone. Paranoid bunch that we are, all of us had a weapon drawn. Carlos went to answer the door and I caught a whiff of Shifter drenched in cologne. I stayed in the kitchen and got a cup of coffee as the guys went into the living room to handle business. It wasn't Stefan. I told myself like a chant, I would know it if it was. It was a client. It had to be a client. I sat at the kitchen table and sipped my coffee calming my racing heart and tried not to think about the shred of hope that it was him knocking on the door. So instead I thought about work.

How could I get a phone number to track Madigan. He was smart about his phones, I remembered that. Always changing prepays, and using public phones when possible. I heard the guys let someone in and noticed his American accent and that for certain it was not Stefan… I didn't much care for this part of the exchanges. It was always the same story.

Hunters are using our children as bait to kill us. My first response was usually, why did you let your kids get taken in the first place? Which resulted in hostile retorts and then the dealings went south, so I quit participating in the meet and greet the clients. I just went where Carlos asked me to and got paid to kill hunters that were terrorizing wolves. It was quite the entrepreneurial revenge plot if I had ever heard of one.

If it wasn't the kids, they kidnapped the Alpha's mate which wasn't that hard if the pack was traditional and didn't let women train in combat, not even self-defense it was old and stupid traditions that left the women and children easy targets, sitting ducks, ripe for the taking.

I could hear the guys talking among themselves. I listened in.

"You go tell her," Carlos said.

"I already went through the drama, because of that wolf; I am not going in there." Jason stated.

"Somebody has to," Dean stated.

"Tommy, you go do it, she likes you." Carlos joked. I didn't like Tommy when he acted like all he wanted was to get into my pants. He didn't know that I had ever been assaulted but still, when a girl says no, she means no. When it was business though, Tommy was all business professional.

"Pshht, you think it will get me lucky and I'll do it, giving her a reason to slice me open, I don't think so." Tommy gruffed. Then I heard a skin to skin smack that sounded like a punch and then heard a growl.

"You don't get to touch her, she's not one of your slutty one night stands Tommy, show some damn respect," growled Dean.

I thought this was a good a time to speak up as any, right when the fight starts.

"What's going on guys?" I asked casually walking in.

The dog pile in front of me froze, as five pairs of eyes looked at me, but one pair was not what I expected.

Erik.

Not Stefan, but Erik… Fuck.