Steel Heart Read online

  Steel Heart

  A Jesse Alexander Novel

  RJ Blain

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Copyright

  With the Hope Diamond locked around her throat, Jesse Alexander finds herself in the unfortunate position of being a walking national treasure. With the Starfall stone poised to pulse and flood the world with more of its magic, she must figure out how to remove it before she becomes its pawn yet again.

  * * *

  Unfortunately, the stone has a mind—and plans—of its own. Add in a determined tiger, a wolf out for revenge, and an ultimatum to find her clan's missing Starfall stone, and it will take all of Jesse's wit and cunning to survive with her life—and her heart—intact.

  Copyright © 2019 by RJ Blain

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Cover design by Daqri Bernardo of Covers by Combs.

  Dedication

  This one goes out to everyone behind the scenes. Without you, this book would still be feral, I’d probably have rabies, and nobody would have a story to read at all.

  * * *

  Thank you.

  * * *

  Oh, and Charity? Next time, beat me harder so don’t end up burning the midnight oil again. Thanks for all your help. I wouldn’t have survived writing the feral beast without you.

  Chapter One

  Why did so many of my problems begin in a bar? I sipped my beer from the corner, kept my back to the wall, and admired the brawl in full swing. Four broken tables, seven stools, and eight chairs littered the floor along with copious amounts of blood and beer, none of which belonged to me for a change.

  I appreciated a good fight, especially when nobody died or was at any real risk of being relocated without their permission.

  Any other day, I might’ve waded in and started banging heads together, but after an afternoon of Agent Simmons and Agent Randal tossing me around and otherwise tenderizing me, I wanted to enjoy my beer without a fuss. That I’d gotten tossed around at all, my agents being careful of my shoulder to prevent it from breaking again, counted as a vast improvement.

  The instant my duo of bodyguards realized I’d given them the slip following the torture session they called training, they’d turn Charlotte upside down for me. They’d check the coffee shops first; I’d made a point of heading to the cafes following prior escapes to lull them into obeying old habits.

  Maybe if the torture sessions had involved weapons and real practice, I wouldn’t have minded being tossed around as much.

  Tonight, I meant to enjoy my beer, and as long as the brawl stayed on the other side of the bar where it belonged, I’d leave the men and women to their entertainment. Matt, my favorite of the bartenders, joined me, sat down, and set a fresh beer in front of me. “It’s been a while since you’ve been around. Finally ditched all three of your boyfriends?”

  “Randal and Simmons are both happily married, thank you.”

  “That leaves your actual boyfriend.”

  That problem, named Anatoly Silverston, Ana when he needed to be knocked down a peg or two, had started in a bar, too. It had been a long time since I’d tattooed my mark on him, and he’d accepted my invitation in more ways than one. The resulting chase had spanned years and much of the United States, and I lived to thwart the insufferable tiger at every turn. I couldn’t tell which one of us enjoyed our daily spars the most, yet another problem I needed to deal with sooner rather than later.

  I huffed, drained my beer, and grabbed Matt’s offering. “The tiger is in a meeting. Also, he’s not my boyfriend.”

  Yet. Maybe. Probably. Hell, I had no idea what he was, but refusing to acknowledge him as my boyfriend drove him and everyone around us up the nearest wall, which was why I did it. My interest in the smug tiger was none of their business. Fortunately for the sake of my ruse, the smug tiger spent all his damned time in meetings, which drove me up the nearest wall several times a day.

  I blamed boredom.

  Boredom always got me in trouble.

  Why was I the only one to recognize that critical fact of life? I could’ve dealt with going to the meetings with Anatoly. Being in the meetings with him would keep me busy. Something to do would keep me from wanting to run so the damned tiger would chase me. I couldn’t even land a simple gig from a mercenary guild without someone coming up with a hundred reasons why I should stay home where I belonged.

  Home should’ve been in Cheyenne, but times had changed on me again.

  I missed my courier rounds, and not even caring for Miracle, who recovered from her illness a little each day, teaching Devil Spawn and Dipshit new tricks, and working with every horse in the palace stables quenched my wanderlust. Of my horses, only the mare Anatoly had given me didn’t try to kill me several times a day.

  As I’d neglected to name her, she’d started responding to variants of Sweetie Pie and My Precious Angel, much to the disgust of everyone, myself included.

  Oh, well. Sweetie Pie loved attention, and she loved attention best from me, and she put up with my asshole horses without complaint.

  No matter how much I loved spending time with my asshole horses, I wanted the freedom to go somewhere and do something. Until someone found a way to remove the Hope Diamond locked around my throat, I couldn’t even breathe without someone supervising me.

  I gave it ten minutes before my agents decided to call for reinforcements and begin a complete search of the city.

  A body hit a table, and the table cracked before crashing to the floor. A woman in a suit similar to my agents’, pounced with a roar.

  “Tiger or lion, Secret Service?” I guessed.

  “She’s one of your in-laws.”

  I arched a brow and stared at Matt. “I’d have to be married to have in-laws, and I know for a fact that is not Anatoly’s sister.”

  The day Anatoly’s sister came to town, all hell would break loose, something I looked forward to a great deal. Would Charlotte even survive through four Siberians sharing space? Three was bad enough, and I wasn’t even the worst offender. I came in last ever since my general containment by the Secret Service.

  Then again, left unsupervised, trouble found me with alarming frequency. Hell, who was I kidding?

  Even when supervised, I always managed to get into trouble one way or another.

  No wonder Anatoly got snarly whenever I left his sight. I’d get snarly, too, in his position.

  “You’re a Siberian. I’ve seen enough mate-for-life pairings to know what one looks like. Run all you want, since that’s what you tigers do, but it’ll be easier on you if you just accept you’re delaying the formalization to pull his tail. Anyway, she’s a lioness, and she’s your handler’s backup in the pride. From all accounts, Blossom may as well be Anatoly’s sister, you may as well be his wife, and as the lioness is in Blossom’s pride, she’s one of your in-laws.”

  Well, shit. I already had a babysitter in the bar, although she’d decided to take some
time off to join a fight. Blossom would love finding out I’d watched one of her pride sisters brawl in a bar. It also bothered me that Matt knew more about my life than I did half the time.

  One question rose above all others. “I can’t escape, can I?”

  Why was everyone concerned with my relationship with the damned tiger? If the President, the First Gentleman, and half the damned city had their way, I’d be participating in a wedding within the next twenty-four hours.

  I blamed the Blade Clan for my general aversion to ceremonial marriage. Had I chosen to be a man instead of a woman, I would’ve been wed to Anatoly’s sister, however. Permanently. In a lavish ceremony, as the Blade Clan didn’t wed any of their sons often or without good reason. Part of the good reason had been my damned desire for permanency on top of my skills. I still desired permanency. I always would.

  The damned tiger, who would one day be stuck with me if anyone, including me, got their way, found the entire situation hilarious. I did, too, but for the sake of my battered pride, I kept a lid on my amusement.

  “That’s how it goes with Siberians. Everyone’s gossiping over how long it’ll take for your boyfriend to actually catch you.”

  “Maybe if he didn’t spend so much time in meetings, he might actually manage something more than chasing his tail.” Damn it all. I itched to roar in Anatoly’s face, sink my claws into him, and drag him off. According to everyone, I was slow to the chase, likely had no idea how to pursue a man even if I wanted one, and would drive Anatoly insane before I decided to settle down.

  With him.

  If everyone stopped bothering me about it, I probably would take the damned tiger for a walk, make him mine, and return him sometime later. Much later.

  “He does seem to have an unusually high volume of meetings lately. What brings you my way, Runs Against Wind?”

  Matt numbered among those who knew I’d once been Jesse Alexander, but he liked my Cheyenne flair, or so he claimed.

  “Beer, Matt. I worked hard for this beer.” I toasted him and enjoyed the brew’s bitter bite. “You know what happened the last time I asked for a beer in that prison they insist is suitable living arrangements?”

  “This is going to be good. What happened?”

  “They offered me tea, water, or, if I decided to be good for a change, a cup of coffee. One of the assholes even tried to bribe me with chocolate.”

  I still hadn’t figured out what everyone had against a good beer, but nobody wanted to give me even a single drop. Due to living and working so close to the Mayoral Palace, quickly becoming known as the Presidential Residence, Matt understood my plight better than most. Thanks to his potent brews, he’d earned the friendship of most of the Secret Service, who had the sacred duty to keep me and the Hope Diamond out of trouble.

  I bet a few were participating in the brawl, which had devolved to poorly aimed blows, drunken laughter, and rolling on the floor.

  “They’re stooping to chocolate trying to keep you from beer? Damn, they’re desperate. What’s gotten them on a no-alcohol kick?”

  I wished I knew, but I could make a few guesses. “They seem to believe if I have a beer, someone will cause a fight, I might end up knocking some heads together, and otherwise create trouble for someone.”

  “To be fair to you, that brawl’s been brewing for a month, so you can’t claim credit for it.” Matt chuckled and kicked his feet up on the nearest chair. “Most days, I can’t tell if they’re friends or not, and well, once the beer starts flowing, the insults start flying, and someone finally crosses a line. And those two? Well, they’re friends with just about everyone in here.”

  Which two? The fight had at least ten participants, and they’d all seemed eager to rough each other up. “If a Starfall stone comes rolling in, I’m leaving, and they can catch up with me in Cheyenne.”

  Matt glanced at the door. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

  I bowed my head and sighed. “Which one?”

  “The actual boyfriend. It seems he has escaped his meeting. You could go marry him now and put an end to the pestering. You could elope. You just have to run down to the courthouse, sign some papers, and go back in three days to finalize it. I give it a month before anyone checks your records and figures out you took the dive.”

  “You, too?”

  “You two are so jealous of each other that until you get official ownership papers, you’re going to be insufferable. I’m amused, but I’m concerned for your happiness. A lady with your good taste in beer deserves only the best partner, and you can’t go wrong with a Siberian. And when you’re happy, you’re less likely to participate in a fight in my bar. Or invite your horses in for a visit. He’s looking at you like you’re the best thing he’s ever seen in his life. I thought you’d like to know.”

  Well, if history wanted to repeat itself in a bar, I had a small roll of tools tucked my belt. Twisting around, I searched for the tiger to find him taking up space in the doorway, still dressed in the suit he’d been wearing last night when he’d been called into the first of his emergency meetings.

  I quite liked his dark red tie.

  For my peace of mind, I decided to ignore Anatoly’s smirk. To be heard over the brawl, I’d have to shout, and I rose to my feet and saluted him with my bottle. “Come have a beer, tiger! I’ll even share mine if Matt’s stingy.”

  His smirk shifted to a glare, and according to Anatoly’s expression, he wanted to roar in my face again, something I found amusing. My laughter stirred his ire even more. He strolled over, snagged the nearest intact chair, and sat across from me. “You escaped. Again.”

  I showed him my beer so he could properly admire it. “This is what happens when you come between me and my beer. I told you this would be the outcome. You laughed at me. Then you said what, exactly?”

  “I foolishly claimed we’d be able to keep you where you belong. I’m man enough to acknowledge when I’ve made a mistake. Are you trying to give me premature gray hairs?”

  I was willing to bet all my demonic horses Anatoly would only grow more handsome with age and silvered hair. “Am I doing well so far?”

  “No gray hairs yet,” he reported. “But you’re well on your way to accomplishing your goals. I should’ve guessed you’d gone to the bar first. I tried two coffee shops before realizing I’d made a mistake. I’ve lost count of the number of mistakes I’ve made today.”

  I could make a few guesses. “Didn’t take the chance to get dinner while you could last night?”

  “That was my first mistake, yes.”

  Hungry tigers became angry tigers, and angry tigers had a tendency to maul people. “You annoyed the First Gentleman again, didn’t you?”

  “It’s not my fault the Bengals picked a fight. Why does he always get mad when I finish fights they start?”

  When the emergency meetings turned into fights, something was going on, and the last time there’d been any large-scale fights, I’d been on my way to Fort Lauderdale, where I’d unwillingly unleashed the Hope Diamond’s lethal powers. “Why did the Bengals start a fight? It’s usually the wolves starting the fights. Or the First Gentleman.”

  Actually, it astonished me anything got done, as the shifters loved nothing more than a good fight.

  “They’re wanting all the Weapon Clan Starfall stones found, and more have gone missing.”

  Too many people knew I’d once been a member of the Blade Clan, which meant I could handle Steel Heart without the damned thing taking a hike, which it usually did when someone got their hands on it. Without fail, I’d be sucked into the problem, something I’d avoided thanks to the blue diamond locked around my throat. “If you involve me in that shit, I’m charging you a fortune, Silverston.”

  Anatoly grimaced. “I know I’m in trouble when you address me by my last name. What did I do now?”

  “Meetings,” I snarled. “Meetings that I’m going to have to start attending at this rate.”

  “I argued against it, if that makes you f
eel better.” Anatoly pointed at my throat. “Could you not wear that openly, please? I’m going to have a panic attack every time you sneak out of the palace. You could wear a scarf.”

  “No. It’s not cold enough for a scarf.”

  “It’s never cold enough for us to want to wear scarves. We’re Siberians.”

  “It’s like people seem to think I’m going to forget my species if I’m not reminded multiple times a day.”

  “Have my meetings irritated you that much?” The tiger’s smug smile irritated me even more than his damned meetings. “I’m flattered.”

  “Why is killing you illegal?” I hissed.

  “You’d miss me.”

  “Like hell!” I roared in his face, which did an admirable job of putting an end to the brawl. Someone flopped onto the broken ruins of a table with a weak laugh. The sound drew my ire, and to make it clear I didn’t approve, I hissed.

  “Don’t mind the pissy tigress,” Matt announced. “She needs a nap.”

  “Tenderized by Randal and Simmons again?” Blossom’s pride mate asked.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “You ran away to a bar for a beer. It was my first guess.”

  “If you reported to those cretins that I’m here, I’m returning you to Blossom and Gabe equally tenderized.”

  Brushing herself off, the lioness hopped to her feet. “You don’t remember my name, do you?”

  “I think they were still giving me the good drugs when Blossom introduced us,” I admitted.

  “I’m Beverly. Blossom asked me to sneak onto your detail and keep an eye on you.”