Stephanie Tyler - Dire Desires

The truck was halfway down the driveway when Jinx slammed out of the moving vehicle, ignoring Jez’s cursing. He was halfway across the yard in the dusk at record speed until he stood directly in front of his brother.

“You’re not a fucking ghost, are you?” he breathed and Rogue shook his head, which was shaved and covered in markings on the left side of his skull and cheek. He wore a black wife beater and old jeans and he looked nothing like the wolf he’d grown up with.

Everything about Rogue had changed, and Jinx didn’t know how he’d failed to notice the transformation over the past six months.

Because you didn’t want to.

“I’m very much alive,” Rogue said finally, his voice a rasp.

“Vice said . . . he said you’d call. But you didn’t.”

Rogue didn’t look surprised. “No, I didn’t.”

“I didn’t feel you,” Jinx confessed.

“It took for you to be close to the house before you were on my radar,” Rogue told him. “Maybe it’ll never come back for you. Maybe it’s not meant to.”

“Right. Because I’d corrupt you and your gift.” Jinx didn’t mean to sound so bitter but Rogue was acting like he was a perfect goddamned stranger. Granted, he hadn’t exactly rolled out the welcome wagon or raced over here when Vice filled him in, but he’d convinced himself that he was helping Rogue, keeping his secret until he was ready for his big reveal to King Rifter and the others.

But it wasn’t that at all. He was scared to see Rogue, and he still wasn’t exactly sure why. As he scanned his twin’s face, he noted no judgment in his expression, but it had to be there. Jinx judged himself too harshly to not believe another Dire would.

“I missed you, brother,” Rogue said quietly.

Jinx swallowed hard, wanted to reach out and touch the markings from hell on Rogue’s face and skull, wanted to tell his twin that everything would be all right, just the way Rogue had done for him a zillion times since childhood. But his throat tightened and his head spun. He simply nodded and Rogue’s brows furrowed.

He flashed back to the night he discovered Rogue and Rifter had been captured. He was supposed to be there, but he’d gotten held up at a haunting. If he’d been there . . .

“If you’d been there, you’d have been captured too. I’d never have wanted that.”

That twinsense had obviously come back for Rogue, but still not for Jinx. Or maybe Rogue was simply reading the guilt that Jinx was sure plastered his expression.

“You blame me,” Jinx said.

“You’re wrong.”

But he wasn’t—Jinx could see it in the man’s eyes. A lifetime of brotherly fuckups and now it came down to this. Rogue had always been the stronger one, the one who could manage to balance heaven and hell and everything in between, while Jinx only had to deal with the ghosts who were lonely or confused.

Rogue’s ability was always more dangerous and it had taken a toll on him. Jinx would never forgive himself for any of it, even though he never could’ve taken the wolf’s place.

“Jinx, please—”

“I’m just glad you were able to let us know what to do with the Dire ghost army.”

“I knew you’d figure it out.” Rogue’s voice was raspy and he looked pale. Jinx knew he needed to shift soon.

“Yeah, Brother Wolf is begging,” Rogue agreed. He couldn’t read minds but they’d always had that twin thing happening. “Ask the question you want to.”

“Did you know—about purgatory? Did you know before I opened it that it would happen?”

“Yes, I did.”

“You knew what I was going to do and you didn’t stop me?” Jinx growled—Rogue barely blinked. “Come on you fucker—fight!”

But Rogue wouldn’t, still frustratingly calm and collected, even after six months in literal hell. Jinx turned to leave, stopping when Rogue called, “Going back to your deadhead?”

“He’s not my deadhead,” Jinx said through gritted teeth.

Rogue snorted in response and Jinx was probably more pissed because he was going to see Jez. Because he refused to live in the mansion again and it had nothing to do with the fact that Rifter hadn’t invited him. No, he would not come back here.

He and Jez formed a semi-uneasy alliance. Neither would vacate the penthouse so they both stayed there. Jinx told himself it was more helpful to the humans that way, but he’d wanted to know more about Jez and the men. Needed to keep an eye on the deadhead, all the while knowing the vamp was doing the exact same thing to him.

“What else do you know that you’re not telling me?” Jinx called to him. This time, Rogue stopped, turned back until he and Jinx were back in punching distance.

“I know that some . . . things escaped.” He shuddered as he spoke the word things .

“And you know I need your help to vanquish them.”

“You should stay away from me for now. I’m too vulnerable.”

“If you’re vulnerable, you should be with me,” Jinx argued.

“I think you’re looking at it the wrong way. I’m a liability to you.”

“So you’re never going to hunt again.”

“I didn’t say that. Let me worry about me and you worry about your shit. Apparently, you’re in pretty damned deep.”

Rogue didn’t say the “P” word, but it was for sure implied.

So this was great. Domestic issues. Oh, and purgatory. A nice mix. “Rogue . . . the others don’t know what happened with purgatory.”

“Yeah, I know. You, me, and Kate. And that vamp. I’ll tell you what, brother—you keep my secret, I’ll keep yours.”

“What’s your secret?” Jinx asked.

“I’m still in hell,” Rogue told him before he turned and walked back into the house.

Vice had been keeping himself busy with several Weres, because even though it wasn’t party night, he’d needed the stress relief. Besides, he needed to keep his mouth busy so he didn’t spit out, “Rogue’s awake,” by accident.

Besides, there was so much fucking going on inside the house, and he was trying to convince himself that he wasn’t freaked the fuck out at the thought of Liam and the twins fighting tonight. He was spinning, his being pulled in several different directions had his hormones working overtime.

Liam had trained well—he was ready. Vice wasn’t sure he was, though. For the first time, he felt really damned old and he didn’t like it.

He’d forced himself not to go back out to the hole by the tree, to think of anything but Eydis, but he was distracted enough that he actually made the Weres in the room as unhorny as he was. They all sat there looking at each other and Vice wondered if he should break out the Scrabble or something.

Finally, he gave a long-suffering sigh and yanked the male toward him. The younger Were kissed him, straddled him, emboldened with the sudden attention and Vice grabbed the male’s hips and ground against him. Pheromones were flying around the room after several minutes of this, and with the female Were now kissing the back of his neck, he might be able to lose himself . . .

“Vice, downstairs, now,” Rifter’s voice floated through the intercom.

Ah shit. He had that king thing going on in his voice.

“Rogue, if you fucked me on this . . .” he muttered, sure Rifter had discovered that secret.

“Yeah, fuck me, baby,” the Were moaned as she tugged at him.

“No, not fuck—ah, forget it.” He slid out of the bed and the Weres pouted for a moment before they started going at it with each other. He shrugged it off—no law against them having fun.

Cyd was at the door, smirking. “Rifter sent me up to get you.”

“Just make sure you get them out of here. And don’t join in. You need your strength for later.”