Echoes of Fire (The Mercury Pack, #4)

by Suzanne Wright

“Funny. My ex said the same thing. He was disappointed too.”

Madisyn looked her up and down. “Well, you look in shape. ‘Round’ is a shape, isn’t it?”

“I know. But my kind aren’t known for their mercy.” Fear glimmered in the sow’s eyes. “They’re right in what they say—pallas cats are crazy motherfuckers.”

After making a beeline for the door, Madisyn turned the lock, pulled it open, and found herself facing one of the security guards. Son of a bitch. His eyes slid past her and widened. “What the fuck happened here?” Madisyn licked her front teeth. “They tripped.”

“My mother always said your kind is nature’s idea of a cruel trick. You’re walking, breathing plush toys—so fluffy and cute that people would never think there was a single thing dangerous about you.

“Someone ate a full bowl of Bitch Flakes this morning.” “Dude, I ate two.”

“I’ve eaten chicken breasts that were bigger than your tits.” “And I’ve worn heels that are longer than the dick you appear to be packing,”

“I don’t hate you. But if you’re ever pushed into traffic, there’s a good chance that it was me.”

Madisyn averted her gaze. “I don’t want to tell you.” Dawn frowned. “Why not?” “You’ll start using words like ‘forgiveness,’ ‘empathy,’ and ‘conscience.’” Madisyn shuddered. “I hate those talks.”

“I appreciate you, Dawn,” said Madisyn. “I just also want to set the bastard’s ass on fire and watch him burn. Is that so wrong?” “Yes, actually,” clipped Dawn. “It’s called ‘first-degree murder,’ and there are—” “See what I mean?” Madisyn made an exasperated sound. “You take the fun out of everything.” “It should not be fun to watch someone burn.” “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.” “I know you have a conscience, Mad—” “See, there you go using those odd words! Next, you’ll have me writing lines like ‘Setting fires is wrong’ over and over. God, that brings back memories.” Dawn planted her hands on her hips. “Well, it is wrong.” “Depending on what or who you’re burning, sure.” “That’s not why—Stop laughing, Makenna! Snorting coffee out of your nose is not attractive.” That just made the she-wolf laugh harder.

Derren paused the footage and sat back in his seat. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t mess with a pallas cat. Amazing how all that cuteness perverts into horror.”

Nick’s brow furrowed. “I thought she was a caracal. Maybe even an ocelot. I definitely did not think she was one of those snuggly little death dealers.”

You never startled them. You never cornered them. You never touched their food. And you never fed them after midnight.

Nick stared at his mate, incredulous. “You want an up-close look? Did you not see what the feline did in that restroom? She wrapped herself around that sow’s head like one of those things you see in the Alien movies.” Shaya’s eyes lit up. “I know. It was awesome, right?”

“You grow on people. But then, so do moles.”

“You were mumbling something. I thought you were awake, so I asked what was wrong. You mumbled something else and then said, ‘Ask Old MacDonald; how would I fucking know?’” Madisyn felt heat rush to her cheeks. She gave a delicate sniff. “I did not say that.” He chuckled. “You did. Then later you said, ‘Ground Control, this is Major Drake. Yes, it is. You calling me a fucking liar?’”

“They’re vicious little shits, Bracken.” “Endearingly vicious,” Roni cut in. Kathy ignored that. “They fly into rages.” “Deadly cute rages,” said Roni. “It’s not even a berserk rage, which I could at least admire.” Kathy put her hands on her hips. “They’re just downright mean.” Roni raised a finger. “Adorably mean.”

Willow cocked her head. “Bracken, did you know that Cassidy’s a virgin?” Bracken stiffened. “Um . . .” He looked at the others for guidance, but they were all staring at Willow with a kind of horrified amusement.

“Then what’s a ‘virgin’? Daddy, do you know what it is?” Eyes wide, mouth bobbing open and closed, Nick thrust a hand through his hair. “It’s, um, a business. It has airlines and other stuff.” “Oh,” both girls said in unison.

“Madisyn? What’s wrong?” asked Bracken. “Nothing, except that I currently feel like Goldilocks.”

Archer’s face hardened to stone. “Fucking with me would be a grave mistake.” “I’ll pencil in some time to dwell on it tomorrow.”

“These guys bothering you, baby?” “They’re giving it their best shot, bless their hearts. I’ve heard that God does love a trier.”

She slowly turned, eyes unusually cold, and gave Bracken a brittle smile that made his hand itch to cup his dick protectively. Yeah, she was pissed.

“You can tell yourself it can’t be that bad, but you’ll change your mind eight years down the line when you’re disciplining one kit for trying to kill the other in its sleep.” Luke glared at his brother. “Not a night I’ll ever forget.” Again, Tate shrugged. “That sound you made annoyed me.” Luke’s brows snapped together. “What? Snoring?” “Breathing.” As the brothers proceeded to argue, Vinnie held up a finger. “One, Slater. Just one.”

😂

“Go away, I’m busy stroking Jaime’s pussy right now xx”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Makenna. “The number thirteen is an unlucky number and a bad omen. Everyone knows that.” When her mate glared at her, she went on, “Hello, there were thirteen steps to the gallows. Thirteen people at the last supper. Women menstruate, like, thirteen times a year. And is it a coincidence that Charles Manson, Theodore Bundy, Jack the Ripper, and Albert DeSalvo all have thirteen letters in their names? I think not.”

Grin widening, Dominic added, “I’m happy for you, Brack. I am. Though it really does pain me that I’ll never get to use her thighs as earmuffs.”

“Hey, I’ll give you a nickel if you tickle my pickle. I’ll even chuck in a dime if you take your time. Ow! Why do you always go for the nipple?”

“Considering your mate has chased you with a shotgun more than once and has a tendency to throw knives at you, I’m not sure you’re in a position to judge,” said Bracken.

“At least I don’t talk in my sleep. What was it you said the other night? Oh yeah. ‘Fuck you, Dumbledore. I want my wand back.’”

“No? You sure? Because last week, you muttered, ‘Gollum, you best get your magic gophers out of my goddamn rockery.’”

We could have the show when you two go home to do . . . What do you call it, Daddy? ‘Bushwhacking’?” Nick’s water spluttered out of his mouth. Willow’s nose scrunched up. “I don’t know what it means,” she told Madisyn. “But I heard Daddy say it to Mommy, and she was smiling like it was fun.” Cassidy rolled her eyes. “Duh. It means sex.” Willow tilted her head. “What’s that?” “It’s when adults nap. How could you not know that?” “Well, they don’t sound like they’re napping when they’re in their room. I think they’re bouncing on the bed, because I heard the springs going like crazy.” Nick’s head fell forward onto the table with a bang. “And I think Mommy bounced too hard and hurt Daddy last night, because he said he was gonna spank her.” Willow looked at her mother. “What did you do, Mommy?”

“She just beat the shit out of our boss!” one of the males yelled. “Oh, please.” Breathing a little fast, Madisyn sidled up to Bracken. “I only smacked her around a little.”

“You know,” began Madisyn, “I had a dream that Claudia and Daisy were at my mating ceremony, whacking the crap out of each other with inflatable badgers, and I kept telling them that they had to hurry because the Hogwarts Express would be leaving soon.”

Sighing, Vinnie held up a finger to Bracken. “One, Slater. Stick to one.”

“But me and Madisyn haven’t had our Australian kiss yet.” Bracken frowned at him, perplexed. “What?” “It’s like a French kiss, but down under.”

“When you were asleep. You also said I had the best ass in the history of ever.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Then you told me in the next breath, ‘No, I will not buy you any more fucking gravy boats—this bullshit is over.’”