Page 81 of Brother's Keeper

“No arrests today,” I muttered to him. “Ended up doing things my way.”

“Is everyone okay?” he asked.

“Everyone that matters,” I replied.

Relief brought a ghost of a smile as I thought of Donovan and Ripley far removed from the chaos. Waiting in the car, hopefully, and I was ready to join them.

A niggling thought struck me, and I scanned the room again. York, half-beheaded, Jette, squashed flat, Holland and Vesper crowded around maimed Tobin… Where was Jax?

The dinged metal door stood open from Donovan and Ripley’s hasty exit. Had the shapeshifter followed them out?

“I hear something,” Felix said. “Is someone outside?”

“Fuck!” I bolted toward the doorway and into the dark night outside.

“Fitch?” Felix cut in again. “What’s happening?”

I dug the earbud out and threw it down as I dashed through the parking lot. It was as empty as it had been when we arrived, but now hauntingly so. I spotted the Porsche a short distance away, but it was uninhabited. Pressure built in my chest while I moved forward in short bursts, my head swiveling to take in everything.

Lot lights hummed, distant traffic rumbled, and my boots crunched across the pavement.

“Donnie!” I called out. If Jax was lurking, the shout would alert him to my location, and I’d rather draw him to me than risk him hunting my brother.

Seconds passed with no response, and I felt pervasively cold. There weren’t many places to hide out here. The area was barren except for dumpsters, stacked shipping crates, and neighboring ramshackle buildings. Maybe Donovan had taken Ripley into one of those to hide.

My fingers trembled as I pulled my phone from my pocket and scrolled the call log for my brother’s number.

I stopped in place, looking down at my silhouette stretching across a swath of moonlight. The cell trilled through three, four rings, then rolled to voicemail. I swore again and moved forward at a faster pace, angling toward the Porsche.

I had nearly reached it when I noticed something out of place. A pair of legs extended past the rear bumper, wearing shoes I didn’t recognize. Breaking into a trot, I moved alongside the car and then around the back end, hoping to find the mystery legs attached to Jax’s corpse.

As luck would have it, I found exactly that. But thedead shapeshifter wasn’t alone.

Three bodies sprawled across the gritty cement. Jax lay flat on his back with his long hair fanned around his head and his sole eye staring sightlessly at the sky. Blood ran from under his eyepatch and streamed from both nostrils. The dark fluid looked nearly black, clogging his ears as the easily identified cause of death. Someone had used the Hex mark on him, killing him with the very object of his desire. But I couldn’t appreciate the karmic justice of it because I’d moved on to the other two people.

Beside Jax, Ripley, sans collar wheezed while bracing himself on his elbow. At my arrival, he glanced back, his face full of alarm and pervasive remorse. His lips fell apart as though ready to speak, but no sound came out.

Beneath him, Donovan lay prostrate. His chest heaved, and he cupped both hands to his throat… or what remained of it.

Blood, so much blood, bubbled up, making every breath a gurgling gasp. It was such a mess of split skin and burgundy spilling everywhere that I struggled to make sense of it. But then I knew. A swipe from a big cat’s claws had severed the jugular vein and reduced my brother’s life to a liquid rapidly leaking out.

I dropped to my knees and crawled to Donovan, wanting to reach for him but stopping with my hands quaking in midair.

Ripley collapsed with a whimper.

Donovan looked at me. Even in the scarce light, I could tell his color was wrong. His brown eyes were impossibly round in a look of terror I almost couldn’tface.

“No, no, no…” Words dribbled past my lips. Some coherent, most not.

Donovan took hold of one of my hesitant hands and squeezed it as hard as he could. Then began the collapse. I bent low, nearly laying down in my need to get an arm around him, to hold him.

He couldn’t speak, and neither could I, choked by tears and breaths coming too fast or not at all. I pulled him to my chest, then dragged him onto my bent knees as I rocked back, cradling his body against mine as he strained and struggled. His blood seeped through my shirt, warm and wet as it coated my chest.

“Don’t leave me,” I managed to say. “Don’t do this, please. Please, shit…”

Our hands stayed clasped as his grip began to weaken.

“Donnie?” I leaned him back enough to see his face. He wasn’t fearful now, rather stricken with an unnatural peace, and I couldn’t decide which look was worse.

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