Ruling Fire (Bad Boys Of The Underworld Book 4) (21 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“So these are the journals?” Elsie sat down in the bedroom from her nightmares.

It wasn’t the same. Whatever she saw in her head must’ve been preserved exactly like it had been when Marella lived...like a time capsule.

“Marella started to keep track of her life toward the end. A lot of it is paranoid jumbles and rants. It’s hard to make heads or tails of, but you can feel free to study it,” said Gretchen, a distant cousin of Brock’s who lived at the Ranch.

One of hundreds of cousins he had. Apparently Brock had a massive family that she didn’t know about. Elsie had filed that away under “things I should’ve asked before we mated.” Mated in any sense of the word...

Gretchen had introduced herself shortly after Brock and Elsie had emerged from their bedroom. They’d managed to thoroughly break in the shower and bed, only emerging when hunger had driven them out. Brock had almost immediately gotten swept away in introductions and old greetings, and Elsie took the chance to venture over to the other side of the Ranch to learn more about the queen who’d been torturing her dreams.

“I didn’t realize she’d come so close to losing it in the end. Everything I read about her made her seem so put together.”

Gretchen nodded as she handed Elsie three of the dusty, leather-bound journals and reached for another two. “Remember, Marella was very old. Nearing two thousand by the time her reign was cut short. That kind of time can mess with a person. Especially that much time away from home.”

Elsie started to gently flip through the pages of one of the journals. “Away from home?”

“Marella was an off-worlder. Like the vampires.”

Elsie’s head shot up at the revelation. “What? Is this common knowledge?”

“There was speculation about it, but now with all this talk of portals and aliens, it’s pretty much common belief. We all knew Marella was a strangely powerful witch who turned her lover and his tribe into the first werewolves. That kind of power just didn’t exist naturally here. Had to come from somewhere.”

“So this wasn’t just a werewolf who was killed. It was a sorceress.” Not exactly easy to sneak up on someone with that kind of power. It was shocking anyone ever got to the queen, which kind of made Elsie wonder what chance she stood...

Gretchen motioned with her head as she started to lead Elsie out of the room. “Why don’t we make our way to the east library? No one really likes spending much time in here.”

“Can’t imagine why,” mumbled Elsie under her breath. She followed her new family member down the hall and around the corner. Gretchen didn’t look that much like Brock, but she had the same tall stature and dark hair. She had the build of a marathon runner: long limbs without an ounce of fat on her. Her flannel shirt was small, and even that hung loose on her frame. But Elsie was getting used to the fact that wolves all wore loose clothes. Easier to get rid of fast while changing.

She’d have to seriously rethink her wardrobe.

“So who killed her?” asked Elsie as they reached the library and set all the journals down.

“Her personal maid. Another wolf who had been with Marella for about two hundred years. It wasn’t a well-planned attack. The girl was killed before she even made it out of the Ranch. Back then it was called the Castle, but we’re a bit less formal now.”

“So it was a crime of passion then?”

Gretchen frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Well you said it wasn’t planned well. And a maid should’ve had fifteen different ways to end the queen while giving herself enough time to get away. At least for a little bit.” Gretchen eyed her warily, and Elsie quickly added, “I watch a lot of police procedurals on TV.”

She snorted. “Honestly, no one really knows what happened. The maid was dead in minutes and Marella was dead before that.”

“So how are you sure that it was the maid who did the killing?”

“Because that’s what Marella told her lover’s next mate when she started having the dreams.”

In one of the dreams before the queen killed her. Well, that was a pretty good eyewitness account.

“And all of the other, um, queens had access to these journals?”

“Yep. They all seemed interested in what they had to say, though you obviously know it didn’t do them much good.”

“Probably do me more good than sitting around doing nothing.”

Gretchen narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think you and Brock were doing nothing last night.”

Oh how she’d forgotten about the joys of living with family with supernatural hearing. “Well, Brock is busy right now.” Elsie tried to hide her embarrassment. Even though Gretchen was probably used to hearing more than she wanted to through the walls, it didn’t make Elsie feel much better.

“And I’ll make sure he grabs you as soon as he’s done.” Gretchen winked. She pulled a drawer open on the coffee table in front of the ornate hunter-green sofa. “Here are some pens and paper if you want to take notes. It probably goes without saying, but I’m gonna say it. These books are old. They’re treasures. You’re only allowed to see them because of...extenuating circumstances.”

“At least if I die, I can’t get in trouble for messing with werewolf treasures.”

Gretchen didn’t smile. “Don’t joke. We’re all happy to see you and we’re happy Brock’s happy, but no one is happy about this.”

Elsie’s face fell. It wasn’t as though she was happy either, but what was she supposed to do? Crawl into a corner and just hope it all went away? If she wanted to make a damn joke to make herself feel better, she would. “So you think I’m going to die then?”

Gretchen set a hand on her hip and stared contemplatively at Elsie, as though searching for the right words. “Well, have you ever won a fight with anyone? I mean—no offense, of course—but what exactly can a siren do?”

“We get married,” said Elsie with a little bit of bite. It was the common misconception that a siren’s main power was snaring a man, but there were a few other tricks up their sleeve. Etta used her singing voice to entrance her fiancé into happiness more often than necessary. Though no one really considered a good singing voice that much of a power.

“I’m just saying that if you think you can take down Marella, you need a plan.”

Elsie did have a plan: Survive.

Didn’t that count?

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“Where’s Elsie?” asked Brock the second he was able to get a moment to himself.

“The same place she was the last time you asked,” said Gretchen from the other side of his office. Well, more like a living area with a desk. Sometimes the crowds in his old office would get so large that not everyone could fit in the room, so he had to take out the wall between the old office and the bedroom next door to make one massive space.

“Do I have enough time to get over there or are there more people waiting?” There’d been a line of his pack mates waiting to see him ever since he’d first been corralled in there.

“You’re free for now,” she said tentatively as she crossed her arms over her chest, glancing between the door and Brock.

“What? Is Elsie okay? Did she have another nightmare?”

“As far as I know, she’s fine. But I just got a call from Henry. Apparently Cullen and his new mate just arrived. They’ve taken up residence in one of the cottages in the outlands.”

“Shit.” Brock stood and strode out of the office and into the hallway. “Get Henry and Dallas over to Elsie
now
. I don’t want her to see her or talk to Cullen or anyone Cullen might be working with. And I want eyes on Cullen. I want to know if he has any new friends here. His mate, Rachel, might have connections we don’t know about, too.” He stopped abruptly and turned to Gretchen, who almost ran into him. “But keep them away from Elsie.”

Gretchen nodded. “Yeah, you said that already.”

“Because that’s the most important part!”

She stepped back and averted her gaze to the floor. Sometimes he and the pack acted like old friends and family, which they were, but he needed to make sure that his orders were being followed now.

“I’m on it,” she said submissively as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. He stayed with her until he personally heard her give the order for Henry and Dallas to get to Elsie. Then he was off to the locked room right off his wing. When he found the right panel, he held his hand up to the wood in the perfect spot.

As soon as his hand hit the wood, he felt the heat of the security sensors taking his palm reading and the panel suddenly slid open. His own personal gun safe was programmed to only open for him and his second-in-command, Russell. The pack didn’t use guns all that often, but he liked to be prepared. Especially considering he knew there was a threat nearby.

He pulled out the Glock 17 and a subcompact revolver. The accuracy was better on his Glock, but the little revolver fit easily into his pocket, and because this version didn’t have a hammer, it could fire in the tight confines of the clothes without a hammer or slide catching on anything.

After loading the guns, he tucked the revolver into the pocket of his loose jeans and tucked the Glock into the waistband of the pants in the back.

As soon as he was armed, he headed back to the front of the ranch, where a group of the older pack members were waiting. “Have you talked to Russell?” he asked Vaughn, the tallest of the group.

“Russell was about an hour out when I called him. I’m guessing he’ll be here in half an hour with the speed laws he’s probably breaking right now.”

Henry was the head of security, but Vaughn was his backup. Brock would rather have his best man with Elsie while Vaughn had his back if he needed it.

“Have any of you seen Cullen since he got here or just rumors?” Brock asked Vaughn and the three others. Each of them wolves Brock had known for over a hundred years. Each able-bodied and more than capable of fighting.

But Cullen knew the security Brock had. If he was going to try something here, he’d have to already have some way around the defenses. Unless he was just there to cause trouble and be a pain in Brock’s ass. In which case, mission accomplished. Either way, Brock would rather overreact to a nuisance than underreact to a threat.

“I saw him,” said Jason, the blond arms expert. “He kept to himself as his guys unloaded the car for him. His mate, though...she’s a peculiar one.”

Brock frowned. He knew Cullen had become suddenly attached to someone but didn’t know much about her, and his sources weren’t talking. “What about her?”

“Well, she’s not a wolf. I could tell that right off the bat,” said Jason. “Not human either. Couldn’t get a good read on her.”

“Elsie got a good look at her the other day.” Both when she was taken from the cabin and when Rachel showed up in Elsie’s dreams. But his men didn’t need to know about her extracurricular activities. “I’ll ask her if she picked up on anything.” Even if she didn’t connect Rachel to something. “Follow me.” Brock started on the long walk to the end of the east wing, where Gretchen had told him Elsie was studying up on the old queen.

As he walked, he talked to his men. “Are there enough guys to be posted outside and monitor the video feed from the cameras? I don’t want them out of our sight for even a second.”

The hallway was suddenly dead silent and Brock realized there were no footsteps behind him anymore. He turned around, pulling the Glock out of his waistband, and saw that Vaughn and his men were still there. Just standing still and looking straight ahead.

“What’s wrong?” asked Brock, but there was no answer. The men stood like statues, stock-still and offering no protection to anything. Which meant...

“Elsie,” he breathed as he ran. The damn house was too big and she was too far... The guns were good protection, but he had one better. In one step, he was human and the next, his paws hit the hardwood.

~~~~~

“Henry?” Elsie stepped forward and held out a cautious hand to the two frozen bodies in front of her.

The big, burly Henry and the smaller redhead next to him weren’t exactly frozen. If they’d stopped in place, they would’ve appeared to be moving. A foot in midair perhaps. Definitely their arms stopped mid-swing.

Instead, both men stood straight. Not even stock-straight. Slightly relaxed. Elsie tapped Henry on the shoulder and jerked her hand back, waiting to see if he moved. Nothing.

Okay... This wasn’t good.
Elsie squeezed around Henry, clutching the old journals to her chest as she eyed the men, looking for any sign of movement. As she reached the front of them, she saw their eyes were open, staring blankly ahead of them. They even blinked every few minutes.

Yep. Not good.
Elsie took a step back as the sound of nails clattering on the hard floors had her flipping around, holding the books up to her like a shield as the black blur raced at her. The massive wolf careened to a stop right in front of Elsie, and as soon as she saw the eyes, she knew it was Brock.

“You’re not frozen,” she said to the wolf, as though it was normal. In a flash, he was standing in front of her, now his full six-foot-threeish height. “And now you’re naked.” She averted her gaze before she remembered that she didn’t need to be embarrassed. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen before. Recently, actually.

Brock set a hand on her arm and started to pull her through the hallway, turning left at the first chance into another hall she’d never been in. “You need to get out of here,” he said softly as he pulled her farther into the south end of the ranch.

“What’s happening?”

He ushered her into a bedroom and pushed her toward the back. “I hear them coming. You need to stay here, okay? No matter what you hear or think you hear, you need to
stay here
.”

“Who’s here? I can help you, Brock. I can—”

“Cullen is here and you can’t help me.”

Elsie was taken aback by the blunt statement. But he was right. She’d saved Brock from the myotis once, but she was armed. Now all she had were some old journals. But that didn’t mean she wanted to sit back and listen to Brock die. “Stay here. You can’t take them all on your own.”

“I need to move them away from here. I’ll be fine. This isn’t the first beta I’ve had to put in his place and this won’t be the last. Okay?”

No. There was nothing okay about this at all. But Brock didn’t need a mate who was falling apart at the seams. He needed a queen. “Okay.” The word came out in a wisp. Barely there except for those with supernaturally good hearing.

Brock pressed a quick kiss to her forehead before he left the room, shutting the door softer than she could’ve imagined possible under the circumstances.

Elsie closed her eyes for a brief second, trying to center herself. With her eyes closed, the sound of her heart beating frantically in her chest was overwhelming.

Her eyes snapped open. Would Cullen be able to hear it? Would Brock? Could she distract him even from here with her fear?

But then she heard it—the smash of wood cracking. The fight was on.