Page 4 of Mortal Shift
“You got another one of those?” I asked, nodding to his beer.
“Sure thing.” He grinned, and led me into the house. “I’m Jax, by the way.”
“Jax. I’m Cali. So, uh, is this your party I’m crashing?”
He laughed, the sound bouncing back at me above the booming of the music. “You’re not from round here, are you?”
“What gave it away?”
“This is Cole’s party. You know, Cain’s son.”
“Oh.” I had absolutely no idea why Cole or his father’s name were supposed to mean anything to me, but it seemed like my new friend was just warming to his subject.
“He’s heading off to the academy in a couple of days. One last party before he goes.”
“The academy?”
Jax, who was in the process of pulling open the fridge, glanced back over his shoulder at me.
“Yeah.Theacademy.”
I shook my head. “Sorry. You’ve lost me.”
He froze, the grin on his face locked painfully in place, and then he straightened, closing the fridge door without getting the beer out. A shadow passed over his face.
“Who did you say you were?”
“Cali,” I repeated, unease tightening my shoulder.
“Cali who? From which pack?”
“Pack?”
“Is there a damn echo in here?” he said, towering over me. I swallowed hard and took a step back.
“I… I think I should be going. I’m late home.”
He sniffed loudly, his nostrils flaring, and then his eyes narrowed. “You’re not from a pack.”
“Who’s not from a pack?” a voice boomed from behind me, and I jumped, almost crashing straight into a wiry blond guy with dark eyes.
“Her.” Jax gestured to me with his beer bottle. The newcomer’s nostrils flared, just like Jax’s had, and he took on the same menacing look.
“What the fuck is she?”
“Going,” I said firmly, leveling my gaze at him.
“Shit, Jax, did you invite some random chick in off the street? Cole is going to be pissed. Just tell me you haven’t told her anything.”
“He hasn’t,” I said quickly. “Just a load of gibberish. Too many beers.”
For some reason, it didn’t seem like a good idea to mention the academy, whatever that was. It wasn’t until after he’d started talking about that Jax had gotten cagey. And frankly, whatever he was getting all paranoid about was none of my business.
“What kind of gibberish?” the blond asked, eyeing me closely.
“I wasn’t really paying attention. And like I told him, I’m late home. I need to get going.”
The blond stepped forward, quicker than I could blink, and grabbed hold of my upper arm, squeezing tight enough that he was going to leave a bruise.
