12. Patrick
It's not every day your scent match faints in your arms on the floor of a stinking alleyway.
I wipe my bloody palm on my thigh and push Jasmine's hair back, the smile sliding off my face as I study the bruise on her forehead. The fucker who hit her is lucky I was trying to make a good impression. I've got a lot more interesting ways of ending a fella than snapping his neck, but she's already put up with more shit than she deserves. She doesn't need to see me when my beast is off the leash.
I grab my phone from my pocket and text Liam to come get us. He's my number two and a cracker of a driver, which means he'll get us out of here fast while the other boys cleanse the site. With all these jackals circling, I won't be able to dial down the homicidal urges until Jasmine is safely behind the tower's walls.
Liam meets me at the mouth of the alleyway, not even batting an eyelid when I climb into the back of the rover with Jasmine in my arms. He's well aware of the number of hours I've spent looking for her since she disappeared on her bonding day. I'm no wiser to where she's been, but keeping eyes on her sister finally paid off. Luckily I was in the area, and when my boys saw her leap out of a car in the school parking lot, I gave chase. It"s just a shame I chose to take the back alley instead of ending that uber fucker before he could lay a finger on her.
"Looking good, brother." Liam gives me a wide grin from the front. "Want a wet wipe for those knuckles?"
"My knuckles are fine, you cheeky bugger." But one glance tells me I've some cleaning up to do and I snatch the packet off him, scrubbing at the smudges of blood. Knifework can be a messy business, although with years of practice I've developed a knack for avoiding the arteries. "Make sure you ring ahead and tell the doc to get his ass to the tower."
Liam nods and gets busy while I remove the last remnants of that fucker from my hands. Jasmine's head is propped on my lap, and I use a fresh wipe to gently clean away her tears. Makes me fucking feral to see them carved on her cheeks. The only time she cries, I want it to be happy tears, not because she's hurting. But maybe that's wishful thinking now she"s got me as her scent match.
When I"m done with the wipes, I can"t resist bending down and pressing my nose to her hair, soaking up her scent. It"s a little sour from the mucky alleyway, but it"s still there, and her sweet fragrance goes straight to my head.
No one believes me when I tell them the sky has a perfume. But when you"re used to living in concrete prisons and having stinking hoods shoved over your head, the Big Blue smells like the purest vanilla ice cream. Fresh and clean, with a tempting note of honey. Which is exactly the scent that"s teasing my nose as I slide it across Jasmine's temple, hovering just out of reach of her scent gland.
Fuck, the temptation is a struggle. I thought I gave up the notion of need a long time ago. Living within the bounds of what you have is smart. But this? I'd give every atom of my questionable self to be able to press my teeth to her scent gland and make her mine.
I settle for the briefest brush of my lips. The gland is so soft and warm it makes my chest rattle, hunger burning like a hot coal in my throat. Her perfume seems to bloom at my growl, and my teeth throb with the need to bite down and claim. My head swims, my vision blurring as my pupils blow wide. Fuck me. It's sweet and sharp, like honey and acid. Glycerin as it meets nitro. I know I should be pulling away, but my instincts have taken over. A sound I've never heard before slips from my lips and I lap at the little gland, covering it in my scent.
"We"re pulling in, boss," Liam murmurs, and my head snaps up, my growl turning into a snarl. He shoots me an amused glance until he gets a good look at my face, and then he ducks his head, focusing on the security boom rising in front of us. My muscles clench, ready to defend the treasure in my arms, and I feel my awareness snap back around me like a second skin. We're pulling into the private garage of the Rose Tower, and while two of my guys are already standing at the elevator, my gaze goes straight to the three people they"re flanking.
Well, shite.
Liam pulls to a stop a little away from the elevator, giving me a moment to catch my breath. Fuck knows how feral I look through the tinted glass, but when Grace tries to run towards us, both her alphas step in her path. I can almost hear her frustrated huff from here, and a small smile pulls at my lips. It's quite amusing to see how a wee thing like her has all her men dancing to her tune. And when she and Max get together, you've never seen such a puddle of alpha mush.
Liam taps his fingers on the wheel and murmurs, "That's quite a welcoming committee. Want me to go ahead and talk to them?"
It's all he'll say about my rage out in the back seat, even though the air is still thick with my scent. "Probably best I do that."
But my boss saves me the trouble, striding over to the car and wrenching the door open. I grab the handle, only giving him a few inches, and he scowls down at me. "Want to explain why you diverted most of our security to the Upper East Side?"
Daniel Rose has a shaved head, hedgerow eyebrows, and a nose that'd put a Roman emperor to shame. He wears his dominance like an expensive cologne, and there's no denying he'd look right at home in an illegal fight ring. But he's a big softie under all that menace and leather, especially when it comes to the pretty little beta wearing his claiming bite.
But right now, he's breathing in the acrid fug of my scent, and I leap out of the car before he gets a chance to take in the state of my passenger. I trust Daniel with my life, but that doesn't mean I want his eyes on Jasmine. "Is the doc here yet?"
"He"s on his way." Daniel's bushy brows meet in the middle. It's less suspicion than worry burning in his eyes, and I feel my muscles unwind a little. But he's still scowling as he barks, "Care to explain yourself in the meantime?"
I lower my voice, glancing past him at Grace, who's watching us with an anxious expression. "Like I said, I had a good lead on Jasmine Crenshaw, and it panned out."
"You found her?"
"Aye, but she"s taken a nasty blow to the head. Might want to get her cleaned up before she has visitors."
Daniel's jaw flexes, and I know he's worried about breaking the news to his mate. "Who hurt her? And where's she been since the hotel?"
I start to tell him I'm still working on the details when the door jerks open behind me. I lurch forward a step, and Jasmine rises from the back seat like a Valkyrie. She's pale, and the lump on her head is turning purple, but something flashes in her eyes as she takes in her surroundings. "The Rose Tower? Why did you bring me here?"
I feel my brows push up to my hairline. "I work here, which makes it the safest place in the city for you."
"Patrick's my head of security," Daniel clarifies.
"He is?" She studies me, and I watch for a flicker of recognition. "You are?"
"I am." I don't mention that we've met once before, since I obviously didn't make much of an impression. It's my job to blend into the background, and we never got within sniffing distance of each other. But it makes me wonder why my scent match hasn't picked up on our connection now I've swooped in and saved her life. Even this close to me, her face is blank, her eyes distracted. I wasn't sure what I was expecting once she got a good gander at me, but it wasn't…. disinterest.
"You should be sitting down, Jasmine," Daniel says. "From the look of that bruise, you've probably got a concussion."
She lifts a hand to her head, the other one gripping the door frame. I can practically see her reliving the shit that went down in the alleyway. "Jackson," she winces. "He's dead?"
I nod. "But that's on me. You don't have to worry about it."
Green eyes slice into mine. "Unfortunately, I do. Jackson was my father's head of security." She can't hide the tremor of unease in her voice. "It's going to send a pretty vivid message."
They'll have to find his body first.
Which won't be easy when he's incinerated down to his cuticles. But I keep that insight to myself.
Especially since Grace has finally broken away from her other alpha and is rushing over to us. She nudges Daniel aside and throws herself at her friend. Jasmine is still clutching the doorframe, so she doesn't fall over, but I can hear her pained gasp as she's squeezed tight.
"Easy," I murmur, ready to peel the little beta away. But the low growl from the alpha behind her makes me pause. Daniel might be my boss, but Garth Rose is the pack alpha, and the only uber who has ever put me on my ass. To be fair, I was coming at him with my knife when he took me down, and the man has been nothing but civil to me ever since. Still, it's a wise move to lower my hands and take a step back. "She's injured," I tell him. "We should get her upstairs before she falls down."
"Oh, I'm sorry!" Grace gasps, jumping back in alarm. Her eyes widen as she takes in Jasmine's injuries. "My God, what happened to you? Was it Kayden?"
Mentioning her toxic stepbrother is akin to tossing a grenade into our midst, and I watch as a murderous light flickers through Garth Rose's eyes. That slate is a long way from being clean, and there's a dangerous energy coming off him as he wraps his arms around his mate, pulling her flush to his chest. "If Sawyer did this, he's done."
"It wasn't him," Jasmine says quickly. "It was Jackson Boyd. One of my father's men. And Patrick already took care of him."
I resist the urge to rub up against her at the sound of my name on her tongue, but it's a close thing. "Cal and Vincent are cleaning the scene now," I say instead, shoving my hands in my pocket so I don't grab Jasmine's small hand and wrap it in mine. "Your father won't find a trace of him once they're done."
"We'll also put a false money trail out there," Daniel adds in a reassuring tone. "It will make it look like he took a payout and went underground. No one will suspect you."
"That's not it," she murmurs, still looking distracted. I'd think it was the scent bond calling to her, but she's not even glancing my way. Instead, she's patting her pockets, then turns abruptly to search the back seat. I brace myself for her reaction to the pheromones I pumped into the car, my heart squeezing as she lifts worried green eyes to mine. "Did you see my cell? Did I drop it in the alleyway?"
Her phone? That's the only mystery bouncing around in her pretty head right now?
"I didn't see it," I grunt, then force myself to add, "But if it's there our team will find it."
Instead of looking relieved, she bites her lip, pushing my arm to let her past. "Sorry, but I have to go."
Grace makes a soft sound of protest. "But you're hurt, Jas. Can't you at least come upstairs for a bit? You can get cleaned up, and our doctor will be here soon to check you over."
"I really can't." Her eyes shine with regret as she reaches out to squeeze her friend's hand. "I'm sorry I've always made this so hard for you, but I've had my reasons."
"Protecting me," Grace replies with a snort. "Oh, yeah. I've worked that much out. But you're not alone anymore, Jas. My pack is here to help you."
Something bubbles in my chest, a sour feeling that my scent match has to be convinced we're on her side. Can't she smell it on me, the same way I can smell it on her? It's like waking up and realizing the air is on fire.
I take a step towards her, but she's already pulling away from Grace, a tight smile on her face. "I appreciate it, but I've met someone. A pack, I mean. They've given me a job and a place to stay, so I'm fine. I promise."
"Oh!" The tension seems to flow out of Grace like a river, while every hair rises on my body. "Really? That's so great. Who are they?"
Jasmine's smile slips a fraction. "You don't know them. I mean, they're from out of town. And I'm keeping a low profile until things get sorted with the Sawyers." She gives me a polite nod. "Thanks for helping me, but I really need to get home now."
Home. That's one word I don't like hearing from her. Or at least, not when she's talking about going home to some other pack.
But it makes sense she had help getting out of that hotel on her bonding day. I had the perimeter covered, but the place was cleared out when I went up to her room. Sawyer was storming around, abusing the staff for losing her, and for a while I thought it might be an act. That he'd hurt her and was covering it up, which made me want to peel the skin off his bones. But when he kept it up all week, I had to assume someone else got her out before I could swoop in and rescue her.
I'm glad she's safe, but I'm going to need a lot more information about this mystery pack of hers before I can sleep straight at night.
When I glance down, she's still waiting for me to step aside. I know I should probably look to Daniel for direction, but it's not his scent mate trying to stroll out of his life. "Don't you think we have a few things to discuss first?"
Her eyes widen slightly, and I think I can smell a hint of fear in her scent. "About what?"
It's worse than a slap to the face. Not just the fear, but acting like I'm less than a stranger. But then, I don't need her to spell it out to know that scent matches aren't for assholes like me. They're for nice people like Grace. She's just about the sweetest girl I've ever met, and her scent-mate Richard can wear pastels like nobody's business.
"You know what," I murmur, stepping closer instead of away. I've heard of fellas losing their minds over their scent-mates, and I'm not surprised, given the way my heart is hammering and my palms slickening up. I'm thinking maybe there's another side to this scent matching business. A darker, wilder one, where feral pups who grew up drinking from horse's troughs lure the princess down from her ivory tower. Wouldn't be the first time I've gone where I'm not wanted and taken without asking.
But before I can touch her, I hear the familiar snick of a firearm being cocked. My head whips around and I'm literally staring down the barrel of a semi-automatic. And one hell of a big fucker who's pointing it my way. "Don't move. I'm just here for Jasmine."
Not the best way to explain his presence in our private and usually very secure parking garage, and I bristle all over. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Erik Volk."
When he doesn't volunteer anything else, Garth tilts his head, curious. "General Volk's son?" The big fucker gives a tight nod, his gaze still locked on Jasmine. But Garth isn't the kind of alpha you ignore, stepping right into the intruder's firing line. "We're not doing anything until you lower your gun, Erik."
The army boy doesn't relax an inch, but Jasmine makes an exasperated sound. "Seriously, Erik? These people are friends, and I was just leaving anyway."
She tries to push past me, but I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her against my chest. She instantly starts to struggle, and I lean in and whisper in her ear, "Running right now is likely to end badly, mo chroí."
She goes stiff as a fence post but doesn't look my way. It's probably for the best since my mouth is already way too close to her scent gland. I can feel her heart beating frantically against mine, but her voice is surprisingly calm as she says, "Put the gun down, Erik. It's the fastest way to get out of here, okay?"
I don't like hearing that at all, although some of the tension goes out of Garth as the big fucker holsters his weapon. But his eyes are still lasered on me, and when I cock a brow at him, he asks, "You one of Eammon Quinn's guys?"
There's a lot of ways I'd describe myself, but that's right at the bottom of a very long list. "We parted ways a while back."
To my surprise, he gives a nod of approval. "Glad to hear it. The guy was poison."
I'm not one to disagree, but the fact he's using the past tense intrigues me. "If you've gone up against Eamonn, you should watch your back. He's a fine one for grudges." And removing the body parts of his enemies, but I don't add that part with Jasmine pressed so close. It's bad enough she's vibrating with the need to get away, I couldn't stand it if she looked at me with fear in those big green eyes.
But the alpha shrugs off the warning, and Daniel suddenly gives a low chuckle. "I just realized you're one of those Volks. What's the target?" He doesn't wait for him to answer, clicking his fingers in an ah-ha moment. "The Ferro Club, right? I heard the Abbotts were thinking about retiring to the Mediterranean. I take it you're the ones who suggested it?"
Erik gives a small grunt, but I just tighten my grip on Jasmine. I've had plenty of experience with alpha club life in Boston, and if this guy is tangled up in it, there's no way she's going with him.
But it's Grace who speaks up, her expression wary. "We haven't heard good things about that club."
"New management means a new way of doing things," Erik tells her, his face softening slightly. Grace has that effect on alphas, but I'm not falling for it. And I'm guessing he knows that, since he adds with a pointed look in my direction, "For instance, we've made some security upgrades since we took over."
I just bet he has. The big fucker probably pisses on the doorstep every morning to mark his territory and keep the assholes away.
But I'm immune to that sort of warning. And if Jasmine is staying at the club, I'm getting in there, one way or another.
"You're a member, aren't you?" I ask my boss.
Daniel pulls a face. "Richard was. His grandfather started the place. But we gave our membership away a few months back."
"You transferred it to Kayden Sawyer," Erik corrects him, studying the other man with interest. "Unusual decision for a legacy to take."
Daniel just shrugs. "As Grace said, it's not our scene."
Erik doesn't look like he's buying that explanation, but he just says smoothly, "Well, we're in the process of refining our membership list. So if you want to stop by, just let me know and you can come in as my guests."
It's clearly an attempt to put us in our place, and I'm tempted to tell him to shove his invitation. But what good would that do? Jasmine is already wriggling to get away, and I can't just keep holding on to her like a dog with a bone. Even if I'm tempted to bare my teeth at the big alpha.
Because I can smell the uber on him, like hot metal in the back of my throat. I've had plenty of dealings with his kind, and I have no doubt he's about as different to that fucker Jackson as an alley cat is to a lion. This guy has the quiet confidence of someone who's never been challenged in his life, and I glance at Garth, wondering what they see when they look at each other. To my disappointment, my boss' boss is cuddling his mate and barely giving the other uber a second glance.
I have little choice but to relax my hold, my arms aching at the empty space when Jasmine breaks free. But she only takes a couple of steps before she pauses to look over her shoulder at me. I wait for the flare of scent-mate recognition in her eyes, but she just gives me a cautious smile. "Thanks again for helping me today."
I nod jerkily, my tongue thick in my mouth, and my hands opening and closing uselessly at my sides. She's barely left my arms and I already feel like I'm losing my mind.
As Jasmine reaches Erik, I wait for some big passionate reunion, because there's no way this big bastard isn't crushing on her like crazy. But he just frowns at the bruise on her temple, then gently takes her hand. I'm not sure that isn't fucking worse, but then he shoots me a keen look and says, "I owe you for today. But make sure you give me fair warning before you turn up next time."
His gaze drills into me a moment longer, and I don't know whether to sneer or snarl at the challenge in his eyes. Either way, I'm pretty sure he knows this won't be the last time we'll meet.