AMIDST THE CATS' CRADLE - 11
C H A P T E R E L E V E N - - - J O R D A N
Jordan followed Gwen's stride as she was virtually sprinting. Her eagerness caused her cheeks to flush, and every time Jordan and Mitch's gaze connected, the same query appeared in Mitch's. What in the world was going on?
She told them to wait and claimed it wasn't far when they attempted to question her. they would notice. Jordan reasoned that was okay. He anticipated that he and Mitch would head to the nearest tequila bottle as soon as she bid them farewell for the evening. They took a trolley and after a few stops, stepped off. She led them to a tall brick house, pausing at the stairs leading up to the apartment building for a moment.
"You two need to promise me you won't freak out," she added, giving them both a look that Jordan interpreted as everything from serious warning to desperate begging.
He grimaced but nodded slowly.
“Okay. We're not going to stress out. Is that correct, Mitch? ”
“Sure. Is there a dead corpse in there somewhere? " Mitch inquired, attempting to lighten the situation.
"No," she murmured, not sounding particularly convincing.
"You two need to promise me you won't freak out," she added, giving them both a look that Jordan interpreted as everything from serious warning to desperate begging.
He grimaced but nodded slowly.
“Okay. We're not going to stress out. Is that correct, Mitch? ”
“Sure. Is there a dead corpse in there somewhere? " Mitch inquired, attempting to lighten the situation.
"No," she murmured, not sounding particularly convincing.
Then he felt it as well. As he peered over at Mitch, his hackles rose and his eyes focused, and he could almost see his brother going for the knife he had in his boot. Jordan reached inside his jacket pocket and drew out his own pocket knife. Something was in the air. Jordan could smell them even though it was probably only a sense for Gwen. Wolves.
She remained motionless for a minute, listening, as did the Allens. Jordan was ready to make a move forward when she burst into a rapid sprint, far faster than Jordan imagined.
"Shit," he murmured, looking at Mitch.
His brother appeared to agree with him.
She beat Jordan around the corner, but he caught up with her as she stormed in through an open door, right into one of the flats. Jordan's world altered and transformed as soon as he walked through the door, a knot in his throat. Three guys in black, with sparkling blue eyes and blond hair, hovered over the tied-up body of an old woman, who was shrieking into her gag on the ground.
"Get the f*** off her!" " Gwen hissed, and she was on the man closest to the woman, fist raised and ready to smash the guy out.
Jordan moved on to the next man, quickly realizing that, while he and Mitch were equipped with knives, these jerks possessed firearms. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisting it brutally behind him before grabbing his sidearm, but the bastard was quick and there wasn't much room for their battle. Jordan rammed his elbow into the guy's nose with a gratifying crunch before being yanked back by the scruff of his jacket.
He crashed against a wall, but rose back up before he could fall to the ground, turning the knife in his palm so the blade was pointing down. Mitch was stuck between two of them, and punches to the belly were used to try to subdue him, while Gwen was struggling to block the third person from obtaining his pistol.
Jordan grabbed one of the guys on Mitch's back and drove the knife into the delicate flesh, blood oozing from the open incision like a torrent.
The man gasped and gagged, collapsing on his knees, and Jordan forgot all about him. Seeing the death of one of his partners in crime, the man keeping Gwen busy kicked her off. She painfully landed on a table, cracking it and tumbling to the floor along with the splinters of the broken wood. He burst past Jordan before he could get ahold of him, and when Jordan looked to Mitch, he found his brother pulling his long switchblade out of the chest of the blue-eyed adversary, the man’s eyes already getting glassy.
“Come on, let’s go get him,” Jordan hissed, running to the door.
He could see an open window at the end of the hallway that had certainly been closed before and he mumbled a few choice expletives.
“Jordan, no!” Gwen voice called, rooting him in place. “I might need you here! Please don’t go!”
It was that little moment of standing still that made Jordan realize why he’d felt such a sudden and inexplicable change when he stepped into the apartment. It had nothing to do with The Arctics or whatever reason it was that they were there in the first place, but the smell. The scent of something very familiar, something so basic and raw that it was decoded into his DNA, and he couldn’t mistake it for something else even if he tried.
The scent that he now realized had been hanging onto Gwen the entire time was the reason why she smelled so inexplicably sweet to him.
The smell of cubs. His cubs.
Jordan looked back into the room, confusion muddled on his face. His gaze rolled from the two dead agents, to his brother looking just as confused, to Gwen getting up off the floor and trying to untie the woman. Mitch’s mouth was slightly parted, his gaze clear but racked with emotion.
Is this what I think this is?
Shaking out of his reverie, Jordan stepped back in, slamming the door shut so no snooping neighbors could get a view of the scene unfurling in the apartment. He sniffed at the air, nostrils flaring slightly, and his eyes flashed gold at the same moment as Mitch’s did. As if driven by the same power, both brothers went for a door past the table that Gwen had smashed through, the pleasant but unremarkable cream walls of the room looking scathingly out of place considering the roar of feelings battling for prominence within Jordan.
“Mitch, Jordan, wait!” Gwen called, but they didn’t listen.
It was Mitch who pushed down the door handle and stepped into the room first, Jordan on his heels. The room was small, quiet, shades drawn. Two side-by-side cribs were the centerpiece of the room, and when the Allen twins walked up to them, Jordan’s heart beating out of his chest, they could have been knocked over by the slightest gust of wind.
Jordan dropped his knife with a click while Mitch had the good sense of flipping his shut and pushing it in his pocket. Together, they stared at the two sleeping boys, cherubic faces blissful and unaware, though both seemed to stir a little as the strong scent of their fathers wafted into their little noses.
Gwen came up behind them, hurried steps betraying a heavily thudding heart in her chest as well. She stopped a few steps behind Jordan and he didn’t turn to acknowledge her. He simply stared at the boys. A million questions rose in his chest and a thousand were answered, with just as many coming to him again as soon as the former were dealt with. How, when, and so on, but most importantly why? Why had she hidden this? Why had she hidden them?Is it because she didn’t trust us to take care of our young? a voice inside of him asked, urging discontent and making his cougar growl low and dangerous.
The boys were perfect. More than perfect, really—completely flawless. They were obviously twins and the more Jordan looked at them, the more he knew they had to be his and Mitch’s. The facial lines were far too similar, as well as the unruly mops of blond hair and the way their little hands fisted in the blanket, showing a sure grip. If that hadn’t been enough, then there was the smell, of course, marking them as Allen and no one else. Jordan’s cougar knew and it could not be argued with. Especially when the evidence was so clear.
“I’m so sorry,” Gwen whispered behind him, her voice frail and shuddering.
Slowly, Jordan turned, flicking a look at Mitch, the gold dissipating in their eyes as they turned to face the mother of their firstborn sons. His throat seemed to collapse on itself and the first sound he made was a strangled gargle, more beast than man.
“Why?” Mitch asked, apparently having more faculties and sense at that moment than Jordan did.
A surprise if there ever was one.
“It’s… it’s a very long story,” she said, hesitating for a moment.
It all made sense now, in a way. Why she looked different, why her curves seemed rounder and more appetizing. Why she had left the Corps. But of course, it didn’t explain what business she had with The Firm, or with Spade. Immediately, Jordan assumed the worst. It was a reasonable reaction, seeing as he was rarely wrong when it came to the company.
“Did they make you do this, make you hide them from us?” Jordan demanded, suddenly very much in command of his own voice again.
Her eyes shimmered with tears and her ruby lips parted slightly, words promising to spill. Before she said anything, though, Jordan’s ears twitched with the first ragged breaths of a baby awakening. A second later, a cry rattled through the room, one that made him smile instead of frown. The boy had strong lungs. Like an Allen should. When his brother joined in, Jordan couldn’t help but chuckle, and Mitch grinned, looking at the babies protesting loudly at being stirred.
Whatever the reasons Gwen had, some explanations were in order. But regardless of that, Jordan knew his life would never be quite the same. And against all odds, he couldn’t have been gladder for it.
