Page 2 of The Wolf She Shouldn't Desire

I can sense Danny becoming more and more agitated.

I’m going to rip off his beef head bodyguard’s hand and shove it down his throat in a minute if he doesn’t give us that fucking wolfsbane,he sends down the bond mentally.

The day Danny committed himself to being my guardian—essentially my bodyguard until I die and willing to give his life for mine if needed—through the sacred and rare ritual very few vampires go through, we got the added benefit of being able to communicate to each other in such a way. He’s also able to sense intense emotions, when I’m in severe pain, or if I ever find myself on the verge of death. It helps in his duties as my guardian…or asking for him to pick up a book or extra blood bags on the way home when I’m unable to. The bond benefits us both.

Easy Danny. You’re going to have to wait in line, and we both know I’m the faster runner here.

Danny’s amused chuckle rolls through my mind.

“My price has doubled now.” Jackson states pulling our focus back to him.

“Why?” I ask.

“Call it supply and demand,” Jackson replies. “You’re not the only ones after wolfsbane, and it isn’t easy getting my hands on it. The wolves are trying to wipe it off the market…and the vampires trying to buy it. They’re especially more active in doing so in this city, and they would pay a pretty penny for your head on a platter for trying to obtain it.”

The slimy smirk that flashes across his face has me clenching my fist. Danny tenses behind me, and I hear the beautiful song of steel being unsheathe as he pulls out his favorite knife from its sheath.

“Is that a fucking threat, Jackson?” Danny growls.

“Just a fact,” Jackson chuckles.

“It sounded like a threat to me,” I calmly state. “Don’t forget who you are talking to Jackson. You may be good at dealing in getting people what they need no matter what, but don’t forget what I’m good at and why they call me the Blood Queen.”

For a second, Jackson seems to pale as if death just walked across his path. Some would say I am walking death. He quickly recovers though. I guess he did forget who he was dealing with briefly.Not anymore though.

“Give me the wolfsbane as we agreed upon, and I’ll walk away, leaving you with all your appendages intact.”

“Nowthatsounded like a threat,” Jackson states with a glare aimed at me.

“Oh no, I don’t make threats. I make promises. Do you want to test it out?”

“My price has doubled. Take it or leave it. And to add to it for you wasting my time, you’ll have two options to choose from. Either have your servant boy there hand over his knife and kneel in front of me while I carve him up like a turkey roast…or give me one night where we have a little alone time fun, and you’ll see what else I’m great at other than making deals.”

Jackson stands there with a shit-eating grin, as if he has me cornered with no other options. He knows we need the wolfsbane. Werewolves have been increasing their attacks on our coven over the past month and wolfsbane would send a clear message to them to back the hell off if we had it. But there is noway in hell I would choose either of his additional options. So, option three,myoption, it’ll be.

I turn to the icy, cold steel resolve hidden within me I turn to when dealing with assholes like Jackson. The ice within me that I let flow through me more often than not when doing my father’s dirty work for the coven. The ice that allows me to bask in my title as Blood Queen. Usually, it takes a toll on me later, but it serves its purpose every time and gets the job done.

Annnd here we go, Danny gleefully projects to me mentally like the Joker in Christian Bale’s Batman movie he loves so much.

A cold and evil laugh begins slipping its way past my lips. The grin on Jackson’s face melts away and is replaced by a scowl.

“You have some fucking nerve, Jackson. Do you think you are theonlyperson we could get the wolfsbane from? No. You were the quickest and my father afforded you the curtesy of continuing to work with you despite the difficulties we have had with you in the past. But I think that curtesy is null and void now. So, we are going to go with my option. Option three, if you will.”

“There is no option three, you stupid bitch.”

“There is now.”

With no warning, Danny and I spring at them together, giving them no chance to counteract our attack. Danny goes head on for the goon that steps in front of Jackson as I go low. My knife slices right below the kneecaps and then behind as I use my momentum to spin around. Danny jabs his knife into the goon’s chest as he comes down in reaction to the debilitating gashes I gave to his knee. A goon to the right appears in my peripheral vision throwing his meaty fist towards my face but never makes contact as I roll away on the ground to pop back up onto my feet several feet away placing me closer to where Jackson and the two remaining goons stand back from Dannyand I. Danny goes to work on dealing with the idiot who tried to come at me with his fist while I walk towards Jackson.

The two goons protecting Jackson come towards me to prevent me from coming any closer to their employer. So predictable as Jackson doesn’t like to get his hands dirty. I smile at them with a thrill of anticipation coursing through my blood. Two against one, especially two mountains of steroid fueled muscle that easily outweigh me four times over, doesn’t frighten me. Nope. It gets my blood pumping at the thrill of the slight challenge it presents, and the extra cardio I’ll get from dodging them as they futilely try to get in a hit on me. As I alternate between the two with a jab to the throat, a swift kick to the abdomen, or a slice of my knife to wherever I’m able to make contact with skin, they idiotically leave numerous openings for me. Jackson definitely doesn’t hire brains and skill over muscle. During the thrill I bask in while fighting off the two guards, I am so focused on them that I forget Jackson.

Jackson catches me on a spin away from one goon, and I feel the sting of steel slice through my right cheek.

I hiss, partly from the burn of flesh slicing open and partly at myself for allowing it to happen.

I hear Danny hiss down the bond and see him off to the side intensifying his efforts against the goon he is fighting so he can try to break away to retaliate against Jackson.

Jackson stands there with that infuriating cocky grin again like he’s actually done something spectacular and worth bragging about, but he doesn’t realize that instead of me just serving him with a few harsh kicks to his ego, he’s a dead man walking now. Fuck it if my father gets pissed.

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