"Negative. Do not engage, Jazz. Stay away. Hide." I jumped over a log, landing five feet ahead of it on the other side. "I'm almost there, Jazz—"
"There isn't enough time, Knox. I'm better now. I'm not afraid. I have my magic. I won't let him hurt my child."
His cold resolve was the scariest thing I'd ever heard. Panic made my bones brittle. I pushed my legs forward faster, barely hitting the ground before I pushed off again. If I'd ever suspected our gym sessions would lead to a moment like this, I would've put a stop to them right away. It was my pack all over again. I'd chosen to keep Jazz at home; I'd let Hallie come with us. One was clinging to life in the middle of the ocean while the other—
"Do not engage," I let my alpha's dominance leak into my command. If he wouldn't listen to me as his mate, he'd have to listen to me as his Alpha. "Hide. That's an order. Confirm."
"Knox—" His voice trembled with regret.
Several shots fired on Jazz's end.
"Confirm, Jazz!" I roared.
The trees thinned, allowing me to spot slivers of the hotel ahead.
"I'm sorry," Jazz gasped before the line went dead.
My roar sounded in my head. I couldn't waste the oxygen I needed to get to my mate. I ran a few seconds longer before I jumped out of the trees, scrambling to gain purchase and continue forward, when I spotted Jazz through the sitting room window. His father stood ten feet in front of him, holding a gun.
No, wait, I'm almost there—
Begging wouldn't get me there faster.
Jazz's hands were clasped before he opened them, releasing the marbles that Diesel had given him. Instantly, the marbles looked like wolves—they looked like us—stalking forward with menacing intent.
I couldn't imagine the concentration it took for Jazz to project something so much larger than the source item.
The wolves charged forward, toward Jazz's father. He scrambled back a step before coming to a stop, his gaze narrowing at the approaching wolves. Walter smiled.
He wasn't buying it.
My chest went cold, my wolf aware of something I'd yet to catch up to.
The man lifted his gun a second time. He ignored the wolves, even as it looked like they were right on top of him, and fired.
I leaped through the window, shattering the glass the moment after Jazz hit the ground, blood pooling from his head to the floor.
My knees gave out, and I dropped beside him with a sickening crunch. I yanked my hand back. It had nearly dipped into the deep-red puddle.
I had failed him. I'd failed my pack. I'd failed my omega.
Chapter Nineteen
Jazz
Knox's kiss still tingled on my lips as he went out to join the others. I knew he didn't like leaving me and Angus, so I tried not to make too big of a deal about being ordered to stay home.
That hadn't meant I couldn't complain. Really, if I hadn't, Knox would've thought something was wrong and would've spent the whole time stressing over it.
I had no doubt they'd be back before I knew it. I smiled at Angus, nursing happily at his bottle. Dog's toenails clacked against the hardwood as he walked down the hallway. Apparently that whole standing guard by the door thing had been for show.
I'd always liked children, but in the same way I liked tigers. They were best when you just looked at them and worst when they were in the same room as you. Angus wasn't like a tiger at all. He was everything that was good in this world wrapped up in a pudgy baby's body. He didn't know that he turned into a winged wolf whenever his father shifted or that he floated when his father used his wings.
That additional bond, the unexpected connection, had cemented over any doubt I'd had lingering about any part of the situation. He shifted when I shifted and floated when I flew because I was meant to protect him, and somewhere deep down in his baby soul, he knew that.
The sound of glass breaking down the hall wouldn't have been half as terrifying if it hadn't been accompanied by the deepest growl I'd ever heard. Dog?
I stood, squeezing Angus just enough that I was sure he was there still in my arms.
"Dog, what is it?"
Do you think he's going to answer? Maybe. Dog seemed more man than animal most of the time. Funny because the rest of his pack worked in reverse.
This old house was still settling, and after I didn't hear anything further from Dog, I let out a relaxed breath, assuming the sound had something to do with that.
But when I padded softy into the foyer, my skin prickled with awareness.
Someone was here.
I palmed my phone to call Knox. Before I could, Dog yelped from down the hallway.
"Dog!"
He snarled, and then a man shouted, screaming in pain. I jumped back from the echoing boom of a gunshot. Angus began to scream.
"I should've known." Walter Whitten, my father, walked out of the kitchen and through the meeting room. He carried a gun in two hands, like he'd watched one too many procedural crime shows. "If you want something done right, do it yourself."
And there's his snazzy catch phrase. Cue opening credits.
I would've rolled my eyes if I hadn't been panting my way up the stairs. I took them two at a time, unable to risk more without possibly falling and hurting Angus. He screamed in my arms, upset by the loud bang and my frantic breaths over his cheek. "Shhh, baby. Please, shh."
My father's shout wasn't nearly far enough behind me. "Who would've thought killing a single person would be so difficult? Is that why they want you dead?"
They?
I sprinted down the hallway, passing my room while rapidly realizing how idiotic I'd been. I'd ran up the stairs.
Fucking hell. Up the stairs, Jazz? I was every stupid teen in every cheesy horror movie, except the thing chasing me was the one man who was supposed to care for me the most in this world.
I hadn't expected that sort of emotion from him in a long, long while, but ignoring your existence felt like a distinct set of steps away from actively trying to kill.
I'd clearly graduated.
I ran to the end of the hallway and shouted—silently—for joy. These rooms weren't utilized yet and most of the furniture was covered by a white cloth and then a thick layer of dust. I turned my head, frantically searching for a hiding spot. I yanked out one of the drawers from an old dresser and lined it with a drop cloth before setting Angus down.
"Shh, shh, baby, Angus, you have to stop crying."
Immediately, Angus's mouth closed, and he looked up at me, his breath stuttering with leftover sobs. Maybe the same force that bonded us in wolf form worked in emergencies too. I wouldn't question it. "I love you so much, baby boy, but I have to leave you here, okay? Just for a little bit." I kissed his chubby cheek and pulled quickly away so he wouldn't feel my tears.
My father's steps echoed, sounding far away. With any luck, he'd turned down the wrong hallway. As his footsteps grew closer, I remembered I was Jazz, and I had no luck. Just skill.
I patted the marbles in my pocket, glad I'd kept them on me basically every day since Diesel had give them to me. I pulled free one of the blankets wrapped around Angus. This one had been knitted and had large gaps that made it more of a decorative blanket than one used for warmth. I held it tightly in both hands. This sort of item manipulation, projecting a mask over a flat surface, had once been impossible and was still extremely difficult. I'd only managed it successfully a handful of times. Most of those times had been after I gave birth, and I had a hunch becoming a shifter had upped my skill level a little.