Twilight Hunter

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

JACE’S STOMACH FLIPPED. Bile burned at the back of his throat, but it wasn’t from the alcohol. He pulled away from their kiss and buried his head in the crook of Frankie’s neck. His heart pounded, each beat hard and sharp, like the blow of an ice pick.

Love? She loved him?

He opened his mouth several times in an attempt to say he felt the same way, but the words refused to emerge.

Trying to push the thought from his mind, he focused on making love to her. He couldn’t wait to slip inside her and find sweet release again.

Making love? Did he love her?

He gritted his teeth. Shit. He couldn’t escape the truth.

She wrapped her legs around him and squirmed until they rolled across the bed and she ended up on top. Straddling his hips, she pushed her chest against his and pecked kisses across his face, first his mouth and nose, then his cheeks and forehead—sweet, playful kisses that sent chills down his spine and a steady ache through his heart.

Was this it? He cared for Frankie, but was this what it was like to love someone? His only point of reference was his mother, but the experience didn’t transfer. How could he know, if he’d never been in love before?

Sure, he’d had loads of women, enough to give a few rock stars a run for their money, but he’d never been close to any of them, never felt the need for ongoing companionship. The only companions he ever had in his pathetic life were his Mateba, his Marlboros and the bottle. What a fucking fabulous existence.

Frankie pulled away from their embrace. Her gorgeous ebony hair fell into her face and danced around her shoulders. He licked his lips. Damn, he was hooked. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and there she was, watching him with that dark, doe-eyed stare.

But she was a werewolf—the embodiment of everything he’d hated about his childhood, everything he hated about himself.

“Jace, what’s wrong?”

He swallowed down the lump lodged in his esophagus. How could he tell her that he wasn’t sure if he loved her? He wracked his brain for the first thing that came to mind, the only other problem scratching inside his skull. “What if I fuck up tomorrow? I can’t afford to lose the fight, but I can’t shift worth shit and we both know it. One paw. What good is that?”

She gave a short laugh. “My, what a way with words you have. You’ve got a mouth worse than a whole crew of sailors.”

“Unless my mouth is dirty enough that I can bite Alejandro and give him an infectious disease that kills within minutes, it will get me absolutely nowhere.” A smile crept across his face. “Except maybe between your legs, of course.”

She laughed and shoved at his shoulders. “How can you expect me to think you’re seriously worried when you come up with things like that?”

“Whoever said smart-asses can’t be worried?” He reached out and ran his hand over the feminine curve of her hips. At the feel of his touch, she let out a long sigh.

When he finished feeling her silky skin beneath his fingertips, he rested his hands on her spine. She leaned down next to his face and licked her way across his mouth, laughingly avoiding his attempts to turn her teasing into a kiss.

His dick jerked, and he groaned at the electricity pulsing through his body. He rolled her over so that he lay on top again, and she squealed in excitement. Damn, this was more intimate than he’d planned for. He leaned in to kiss her, but she placed her hand on his cheek and stopped him.

“Don’t worry about tomorrow. Even at your worst—” she eyed him up and down “—even when you’re intoxicated and horny, and feeling as if you’re entitled to show up on the doorstep of any helpless female you choose...in my opinion—” she ran her hands down his chest “—you’re still the strongest man I know.”

Without warning, he kissed her, invading her with his tongue and claiming her. It was as if someone flicked on a switch in his brain. Despite his worries about the next day, all he could think about was her. He wanted all of her, every inch. Fighting his frustrations, he prayed to God he didn’t screw up and hurt her.

If he hadn’t already been drowning his sorrows, her kiss would have been enough to leave him drunk.

JACE WALKED INTO K9’s with his head pounding and a constricting pressure in his chest. His stomach rolled as he stared at the already assembled crowd.

Damn, he hated hangovers.

Frankie stayed by his side as they approached the platform, while David followed just behind. The chatter of eager voices echoed through the room. A large, bulky man lingered beside the platform. He crossed his arms over his chest, and his bald head gleamed in the light. His piercing gray gaze fell on Jace.

Frankie nodded to him.

Without any response, the man climbed onto the stage.

Frankie leaned over and spoke into Jace’s ear. “That’s Alexei,” she whispered. “He’s Russian. He’s a shifter—a snow leopard.”

Jace eyed the man. “What’s he doing here?”

She followed Jace’s stare and watched Alexei hush the crowd. “He’s impartial. He’s not a member of our pack, so he’s judging the fight.”

Jace stripped off his coat and handed it to David. “If he’s not a member of the pack, how do you know him?”

Frankie shrugged. “My salsa class. He’s one of my best students.”

David almost laughed. It was the first smile Jace had seen him crack since Allsún went missing. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. That big muscled badass is a dancer? I didn’t realize that Alejandro wasn’t the only male shifter with a feminine side.” David slapped Jace on the back. “Just remember that when you’re kicking Alejandro’s ass, J.” He placed a hand on Jace’s shoulder and squeezed. “You better win this, or I’ll kill you.”

Jace gave him a single nod.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Alexei yelled in his thick Russian accent. “We gather tonight to settle a dispute between your warriors—” cheers sounded from the crowd “—and a werewolf hunter.”

The cheers turned to boos.

“I ask now that one warrior step forward.”

Alejandro stepped onto the platform, his eyes trained on Jace and blazing with an angry fire. He was buck naked and already prepared to shift.

“And now, the hunter.”

Jace inhaled a deep breath. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to Frankie before he climbed onto the platform.

When he reached the stage, the air filled with palpable tension. The weight of at least two hundred and fifty eyes fell on his shoulders.

Alexei stepped in between them. “Are you prepared to fight to the death?”

Jace’s body went rigid. “What?”

“No!” Frankie yelled. She leapt onto the platform. “No.”

“Stay back,” Alexei growled.

She stared him straight in the eye and returned the aggression. “Stop this. Now.”

Alexei shook his head. “The ritual has already begun. I cannot stop it.”

Frankie stepped forward until she was nearly nose-to-nose with the large man. “I’m the leader of this pack, and I say this ends now.”

“I can’t end it, Frankie.” He met her eyes. “Your hunter agreed to this.”

“He didn’t agree on a match to the death.”

“He did, packmaster.” Alejandro straightened from his fighting stance. “Pack rules state that any sanctioned fight between a pack member and a nonmember will be to the death.”

“That was a dirty trick.” The anger that rolled off Frankie aroused all of Jace’s primal instincts. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and he couldn’t believe that goose bumps prickled across his arms. Damn. Princess had cojones.

“The Alejandro I used to be friends with wouldn’t do that. My head warrior wouldn’t be so despicable.” Frankie marched right up to Alejandro and stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “I hope he kills you, Alejandro Miguel Diaz,” she said coldly, “because you’re already dead to me.”

She turned and walked off the platform, disappearing into the crowd.

The whispers erupted again, until Alexei spoke. “Prepare yourselves,” he said.

Alejandro dropped back into a fighting stance, and Jace did the same.

Alexei backed up to the edge of the platform. He crossed his arms over his chest once again and nodded. “Begin.”

Alejandro charged at Jace full speed, hitting him under his arms in an attempt to tackle him. Jace used Alejandro’s own weight against him and sent him stumbling across the stage.

When he regained his balance, Alejandro turned and threw his first punch. Jace dodged, but another punch came toward his face immediately. He blocked Alejandro’s arm and tried to sweep him to the ground, but Alejandro wasn’t having it. He bent under Jace’s weight and dragged Jace down with him.

They rolled on the floor, until Alejandro pinned Jace to the ground. He punched again, this time aiming for Jace’s jaw. Jace twisted his head in time for Alejandro to slam his fist into the platform. The warrior let out a loud yelp.

Grabbing hold of Alejandro’s injured wrist, Jace grasped his fingers and twisted them in the opposite direction. The bastard crumpled and fell, completely under Jace’s control. Jace slipped out from underneath him and pinned the werewolf to the ground.

Alejandro bucked against him, trying to throw him off. “Aren’t you man enough to fight?” he said as he strained against Jace. “Or can you only block my moves?”

Jace ground his weight against his opponent, needing to keep Alejandro pinned down, and let out a low feral growl. “Don’t push me, asshole.”

“Or what? You’ll finally hit me?”

Jace slammed his palm into the bastard’s throat, then held tight, slowly crushing his windpipe. He could feel Alejandro’s veins pulse beneath this hand as the man gasped for air. “Don’t make me do this. Agree to let me go after Allsún and I won’t kill you.”

Alejandro’s face reddened as he fought for air, but he gritted his teeth and shook his head.

“Have it your way, then.” Jace’s hold tightened.

“Don’t! Please!” a woman yelled from the crowd.

Jace looked up, but the voice wasn’t Frankie’s. A petite blonde was running toward the edge of the stage, and that moment of distraction was all it took. Jace glanced back down at Alejandro, only to rear back. Fur had sprouted across Alejandro’s skin, and his face had lengthened into the snout of a wolf.

Jace scrambled off Alejandro just in time for the wolf to flash his fangs.

Shit.

The wolf rose onto its feet and crouched, ready to spring. Jace backed to the edge of the platform.

“Jace, concentrate.” Frankie’s voice rang in his ears, and a surge of adrenaline shot through him.

The wolf snarled as it bounded toward him. Jace focused on the anger rising up inside him. Alejandro hit him square in the chest and knocked him to the ground. They rolled around on the platform in a snarling heap. Alejandro scratched his paws across Jace’s face. A sting of pain shot through Jace’s cheek, and a warm trickle cued him in: Alejandro had been the first to draw blood.

As far as Jace was concerned, it was practically an invitation. He punched the wolf in the jaw. Yelping, the werewolf reared back. A snarl ripped from its throat. Jace howled in pain as the animal sank its canines into the flesh of his shoulder. Blood poured down Jace’s chest.

The wolf released his shoulder and prepared to strike again, like a venomous snake. Jace shoved against Alejandro’s neck and focused all his energy into shifting as he stared into the wolf’s golden eyes. He felt the beast stir inside him, and a grin spread across his face.

Jace grabbed the wolf by the scruff of his neck and threw him off. Alejandro skidded across the stage; his back legs fell off the platform, and he desperately clawed his way back up. But Jace was already on his feet. He crouched into a low stance and focused on the feeling inside him. He felt the beast stir again, and he latched onto the feeling in a desperate attempt to draw it out.

Alejandro ran toward him, fangs bared and covered in blood.

All the muscles in Jace’s body strained. He clenched his fists. He could feel it. It was working. He let out a ragged yell. A surge of power pulsed through him as Alejandro dove for him.

The energy pulsed through Jace’s veins. Then everything faded to black.

FRANKIE STUMBLED BACK as a pulse of blue light and energy hit her full force. Screams and yelps echoed through her ears. She nearly hit the floor but managed to keep her balance. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the platform. Her breath caught, and before she knew what she was doing, she was shoving her way through the crowd and running toward the stage.

Jace. She had to get to Jace.

David was at her heels. As the energy dissipated, a number of members of the pack howled and shifted into wolf form. But Frankie could only focus on Jace.

She threw herself down at his side and wrapped her arms around him, but he didn’t move. He was kneeling in the middle of the platform, as still as a statue. She distantly heard herself screaming his name.

Lines of blue light gleamed on his body, as if he were covered in glowing tribal tattoos. His eyes had transitioned from their normal emerald green to the gold of a wolf’s eyes. He stared toward the sky, unblinking.

She shook him as hard as she could. “Jace, wake up. Jace!”

“Frankie, get off him.” David grabbed her arm and pulled.

Another pulse of energy flooded the room, emanating directly from Jace. It hit Frankie hard. Her head fell back, and pain boiled beneath her skin. The familiar feeling of her bones cracking and rearranging overtook her, and she felt herself involuntarily begin to shift. Within seconds she lay on the ground, transformed completely.

Hunkering to the floor, she whimpered. Her eyes darted around the room to the other pack members. The only human left was David, who couldn’t shift. Howls and the sound of keening rang out as they all waited for the next aftershock. She covered her head with her paws to block the sound from her ears.

Another wave of energy shot from Jace’s body. He jerked forward and rose onto his knees. Even in wolf form, Frankie stopped breathing.

A replica of the symbol they’d seen in Manhattan Square Park glowed between Jace’s shoulder blades. Frankie howled as recognition washed over her.

She knew that mark. She had blocked the memory for the last three years, but now, God help her, she remembered.

JACE’S EYELIDS FLICKERED open onto a haze of shining blue. Slowly he pushed himself off the ground, drinking in his surroundings. It was as if the world had been engulfed in a cerulean haze. He stared and could faintly decipher the outlines around him.

A forest. He was in the middle of a damn forest.

He wracked his brain to remember how he’d gotten there but came up with nothing. What had happened? And why was everything like an amorphous blue shadow?

He listened for some sign of life, but heard nothing except silence.

Where the hell was he?

He stood and scanned the area. A flash of what looked like an animal’s tail rounded a nearby tree. Inching forward, he moved toward the elm and stared into the blue forest. A large wolf was peering around a bush, its eyes beckoning him forward. Like everything else, it looked like nothing but a shadow, an outline of what a real wolf would have been.

Shit. This was all wrong. Either he was dead or dreaming, or he’d swallowed one hell of a dose of LSD.

The animal turned and ducked behind the bush again. An invisible string tugged at Jace’s chest, and though his mind briefly protested, he soon found himself trailing behind the wolf. Weaving in and out of the twilight trees, he followed it through the forest.

After what felt like an eternity, the wolf disappeared. Jace stepped forward into the edge of a clearing. He tried to call out, but he couldn’t hear his own voice.

No need to use words here. Thoughts are far more valuable on this plane. The voice sounded as if it were coming from inside Jace’s head. He spun around. A man stood engulfed in the shadows. He stepped out from the trees and stared Jace in the eyes.

Jace moved his lips, but the words refused to come. What are you?

A smile curved the shadow man’s lips. A Skinwalker—a Berserker—as are you.

The words sounded oddly familiar, but Jace couldn’t place where he’d heard them. A Skinwalker?

The shadow man stepped forward, and Jace stepped back. You have no reason to fear me, though your thoughts are right. I am more powerful than you.

Jace dropped into a fighting stance. What do you want with me?

The shadow man continued to move forward. My job is to direct you to the right path. I’m your spirit guide.

If this had been real life, Jace’s jaw would have dropped. Instead, he just stared at the man in front of him. Spirit guide? You’ve gotta be fucking with me. What sort of drugs did I take?

The man frowned, the first human expression Jace had seen him make. I assure you that I am not “fucking” with you.

Jace straightened to his full height again. Then who and what are you?

The Norse called me Heimdallr, guardian of Bifröst—the gateway to what you call heaven—and I’m exactly what you are.

What the hell was going on? Jace closed his eyes, hoping he would wake up. When he reopened them, he found himself still stuck in the blue haze. I’m not following your thoughts here. What is this place?

The man beckoned him closer. Come. Follow me. The shadow man turned and disappeared into the trees. The same pull Jace had felt with the wolf tugged at his chest again, and he walked forward involuntarily.

The shadow man moved through the forest with ease, as if he knew every tree, every branch. I’m your spirit guide, Jace—the spirit of the wolf.

Jace regained control of himself and stopped walking. Wait, so you are the wolf?

The shadow man turned around and met Jace’s gaze. The wolf’s eyes stared back at him. Yes. The wolf and I are one. Then the man turned into the forest again and wandered deeper into its depths.

Jace never took his eyes off the man in front of him. Why am I here? What is this place?

You’re in the spirit realm. We are past Midgard, or what you know as Earth. We are near Bifröst, the bridge between your world and the realm of the gods, the holy Asgard, where I make my home.

Jace wanted to curse, but still no words would come out of his mouth. So I’m dead?

The shadow man ran his hand down a nearby tree, almost caressing the redwood bark. No, you still reside among the living, though few are capable of entering our world. You are one of the elite.

Jace could have scoffed. Elite? I’ve never been elite at anything, except maybe killing werewolves.

The man spun to face him and stepped forward. As tall as Jace was, his spirit guide towered over him. You are elite in your birthright, not in your profession. Killing werewolves is a travesty. You’ve dishonored your bloodline for many years.

Goose bumps prickled over Jace’s skin, but he ignored them. If you think I have an elite bloodline, you obviously never met my father.

The shadow man stepped over the shadow of a fallen tree and continued. Your father chose a dark path and used his gift for his own twisted enjoyment. He was not worthy of the Berserker name.

The questions flooding into Jace’s mind were overwhelming. His thoughts raced. The trees and brush of the forest thinned as they continued forward. Another clearing lay ahead.

When they stepped through the curtain of the trees, Jace’s eyes widened. Before him stood seven stone statues, each one three times his height. Each depicted a Viking-like warrior dressed in animal skins. The warrior in the center stood tallest—a spear in his hand, and the pelt of a wolf covering his body and head.

The Berserkers, the shadow man said.

Jace couldn’t tear his eyes from the stones. These statues were ancient. What is a Berserker?

The shadow man moved closer to the stone replicas. We are Norse gods—Skinwalkers.

We? Jace pointed to himself. No, you’re wrong. I’m no god.

The shadow man stared up at the face of the wolf-skin warrior statue. You are a Skinwalker by birthright, a Berserker by fate. A remarkable creation.

Jace couldn’t wrap his head around any of this. What do you mean? There’s nothing remarkable about me. I’m a half-breed werewolf. I’m not good enough for either side. He remembered what had led up to this. The brawl with his fellow hunters, the fight with Alejandro. Now both sides are against me.

Walking toward him, the shadow man examined him carefully. You are no ordinary werewolf. You are a Skinwalker. You have the ability to shift like the werewolves you hunt, but you are set apart from them. They are wolves at heart, but you are a man, a man with the power of a wolf. He gestured to the statues, before he continued.

We Skinwalkers can shape-shift, but we’re not limited in our choices as the werewolves are. When you come into your full power, you will be capable of channeling the power of any spirit animal you choose. He pointed to the statues again, each man covered in a different animal: the pelts of a wolf, a bear, and a wild dog; the mane of a horse, the skin of a serpent, the feathers of an eagle and finally, the tusks of a boar.

Jace shook his head. This was so messed up. But why do I have the characteristics of a werewolf?

You can shift into a wolf because that is where your lineage lies. Your family’s spirit guide has always been the spirit of the wolf. The creature swept his arm out toward the wolf-man, the head warrior. It’s time you learned.

Strolling between the statues, the man ran his shadow fingers over the stone surfaces. In the time of the Vikings, the Berserkers were an elite group of Norse warriors who devoted themselves to nature. It was their belief that by wearing the pelt of an animal, they could harness the power of the beast they imitated.

As generations passed, their belief became a reality. They became Skinwalkers. The male descendants of the original bloodlines were capable of shifting form to match their family’s heritage, to match their spirit guide. For you, that is the wolf.

Jace glanced at the statue of...his ancestor?

The shadow man continued. But an even more select group rose above the other Skinwalkers. They became the true descendants of the Berserker warriors, not simply by blood but by merit. You are a Skinwalker, Jace, and it is your fate to become a true Berserker, a god of the ancient Norse people. Someday you will assume your rightful place in Valhalla, the heaven of the fallen warriors.

Jace wasn’t sure how to react. The foundations of everything he knew began to shake and crumble. His full power? He thought of Robert, of the women the bastard had murdered. He had to find a way to beat him. What do I have to do?

The shadow man’s expression turned even more serious, almost sad. In exchange for power, a sacrifice must be made.

Jace glanced down at himself. A large hole formed where the shadow of his body had once been. His panic rose, but he had to beat Robert. What kind of sacrifice? he thought.

You must kill one of the male members of your family. His blood must be shed as a sacrifice to the spirit animals before you can gain your full power.

The shadow man faded into the cerulean shadows, which melted together, blurring until the man’s image disappeared into the twilight. But his voice echoed inside Jace’s head. This is your fate, Jace McCannon. Embrace your abilities and you will conquer your enemies.

FRANKIE’S HEART POUNDED in her chest, and all her fur stood on end. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t.

A loud howl of pain tore from her throat.

David’s gaze snapped toward her. “Frankie, are you okay? Frankie?”

His words barely registered in her mind.

Focusing on the symbol glowing between Jace’s shoulder blades, she found herself back there again.

The smell of blood permeated the house, and the stench hit Frankie’s nose with the force of a freight train. She ran up the stairs and bolted into her parents’ bedroom.

There was blood everywhere. So much blood.

The red liquid had splattered across the walls. Frankie dropped to her knees and screamed. Her mother and father lay across their mattress, their bodies limp and tangled in the bedsheets, which were stained garnet from their blood. Their throats... Someone had slit their throats.

Faintly, she heard the sounds of sirens in the distance. Hot tears poured down her face, but her vision didn’t blur. Rocking back and forth on her knees, she wrapped her arms around her body and tried to hold herself together. The only sound she heard was her screams, and even when she closed her eyes, the only thing she saw was their dead bodies.

All she could see was the way her mother’s arm dangled off the side of the bed, her eyes wide open and her other arm reaching for Frankie’s father. Her father hadn’t seen it coming. He lay propped on his side, his face staring at the ceiling as if he’d only seen his attacker seconds before his death.

A loud sob tore from her throat as she found herself hoping they’d died quickly, without feeling the pain.

Frankie was too engulfed in her shock and mourning that night to take in the whole scene. She’d been paralyzed with grief. Her parents, their blood and their bodies were all she could remember, and she cursed herself every day for it, for not being able to recall more details for the authorities.

But how many times had she seen the police photos? The pictures of the blood smeared on the walls by human hands. No, not human, someone subhuman and sadistic.

Her eyes refocused, and she stared at the symbol on the skin of the man she loved. The same symbol painted on the wall by her parents’ killer.

JACE WAS WRENCHED back into reality with a gasp. He toppled forward, his torso hitting the platform. A pair of large hands gripped his shoulders and lifted him back to his knees.

“Jace, are you okay? Jace?”

Jace’s eyes darted around the room. There were wolves everywhere.

David leaned into Jace’s line of vision and stared him straight in the face. “J, wake up. Jace, listen to me. Damn it.” He mumbled Yiddish curses as he repeatedly shook Jace to rouse him.

Jace clamped his hands onto David’s shoulders, still dazed. “Stop shaking me, David.”

David stopped, but he kept his hold tight. “Jace, are you okay?” he repeated.

Jace tried to steady himself, using David for balance. Swaying, he leaned on his friend. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, J. Alejandro was running for you, and the air started vibrating around you. I thought you were going to shift, but then you fell to your knees. It was like a pulse of energy shot out of you, and it kept coming in shock waves. It stopped Alejandro in his tracks and forced all the pack members to shift into wolf form, even Frankie.

Frankie? Where was she?

“Where is she?”

Jace shot to his feet. The world spun, and David caught him. He slung Jace’s arm around his shoulders and acted as his support. As Jace searched the crowd, David lowered him onto the platform again. Jace didn’t see her anywhere.

“She’s okay, J. I was right there next to her. She’s probably just helping someone in the pack.”

The air filled with groaning as the members of the pack transitioned into their human form. Shredded clothes covered the floor, destroyed during the transformation.

David grabbed Jace’s face with both his hands and forced him to meet his eyes. “Jace, look at me. We need to get you out of here.”

David’s words melted together as the blood drained from Jace’s face and he passed out again.