Page 75 of Bad Blood Wolf

Jasmin gripped his other hand. She couldn’t be dead. Not after everything Brody had gone through to protect her.

“No, she’s okay,” Tristan said. “At least for now. But I won’t lie. She’s got some of the most dangerous mental powers a wolf can have, and she’s sustained some damage on top of her inherited mental instability. Rachelle readjusted her brain waves as much as she could, but she needs expert help.”

Jasmin was staring at the serpent-headed creature. Even under the dim light, her wings sparkled like magical jewels. She knew Tristan had some trick mental powers, but altering other people’s brain waves with your mind? That was some wild shit.

Suddenly, the creature’s form shimmered and rippled, and a dark-haired woman with a mischievous face stood in its place. She touched Adele’s shoulder gently. “She’s stable for now,” she said. “But we need to get her out of here, someplace warm and quiet.”

“Take her back to the cabin,” Flynn said. He tossed Tristan the keys to one of the trucks. Glancing around, he added, “Bring the drugs and equipment with you. Put Adele in your old room. You can bunk with one of the guys.”

“He can stay in the tiny house,” Lissa offered. “At least the sheets are clean.”

Xander scowled at her, but Sloan just grinned. “Come on. I just did laundry a month ago.”

Lissa wrinkled her nose. “It’s out back behind the main house,” she said to Tristan. “The thing that looks like a fairy-tale cottage.”

Tristan said, “Aren’t the rest of you coming?”

Flynn shook his head, and gave his famous crooked grin. “Once we get everybody fixed up, we have somewhere else to be.”

No one enjoyed the next half-hour, which involved a lot of digging out of bullets and stitching of wounds. Lissa and Sloan pulled the trucks up and brought in spare clothes for everyone who’d shifted.

Tristan and Rachelle walked Adele’s gurney outside to Flynn’s truck. Brody started to follow, but Flynn grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Not you, hotshot,” he said. “We’re dealing with this shit once and for all.”

He pulled out his phone and made a call.

“Jenkins,” he said into the phone. Shit. It had to be Timber Jenkins, the Nashville alpha. “You and I are about to have a meeting. I’m bringing my crew. One of your guys broke our treaty, and I’m delivering him for you to deal with, because I’m busy and I already had to put down my eggnog and handle this shit, which put me in a bad mood.”

He listened for a moment. “No, we’re not fucking leaving our weapons at home. So tell your security when they see a pickup and a black van, they better stand down, or I’ll blast my way in with the grenade launcher. And yes, I just happen to have it with me.”

He listened again. Jasmin could hear Timber Jenkins protesting, until Flynn sighed and cut him off.

“Not listening, Jenkins. Don’t fucking care. Be there in ten.”