“They are not married. He is fair game, as you say.”
John opened his mouth and then shut it. He couldn’t tell Sabine that Alexander and Evangeline were mates. That would bring up a whole slew of questions he wasn’t prepared to answer.
“So, who’s on your radar now?” John actually didn’t know if he wanted the answer to that question.
“Well, there is Jonas Brooks as well as Jackson Murphy. Both have been with women.”
John stopped with the burger halfway to his mouth. “That won’t work, either.”
“No?”
“No. There’s history with Jackson and Jonas.”
Sabine closed her eyes and exhaled in frustration.
“Don’t worry; I’m sure one day you’ll find a man.” John smiled and bit into his cheese-covered burger. Sabine was a piece of work.
“Hopefully before I am old and my breasts are at my knees.” Sabine stood and smiled down at him. “Enjoy the trip.”
~*~
John awoke to find the plane making a smooth landing on the Siberian runway. It came to a stop and John grabbed his bag. Saying goodbye to Sabine, he made his way across the airfield to a waiting Land Rover. He slid behind the wheel and let out a breath of relief. He’d made it across the world without being mauled by a horny Sabine. He chuckled and started the car.
Snow-covered mountains and trees lined the roads and he relaxed in the seat as he drove the forty miles to the enclosure containing the female wolves. This was his fourth trip and the scenery was never the same.
The safe house stood against a backdrop of mountains, and the chateau gleamed with newly painted shingles. In addition to serving as a safe house, the men who came out to Siberia to check on the females used the chateau as their base.
John thought back to his last visit. He’d only seen Anya in wolf form, but she was beautiful. He eyed the wedding band he’d never taken off and Isabelle’s words came back to him. He sighed. How could he possibly find another love like the one they had shared?
The tall, electrified fence came into view and John parked off to the side. Bundling up in his down jacket, he hopped out and took a long look around. The air was fresh and crisp and the occasional sounds of birds and other wildlife relaxed him.
“Hello, John.”
John stiffened and turned to see Carson Drake standing by the gate. His body reacted immediately in anger. Drake’s sons, Jagger and Taylor, had suffered immensely at the hands of their father. John still hadn’t gotten over the rage he felt whenever he looked at Carson Drake.
“Wow,” Carson drawled. “If looks could kill.”
“If I was a different man I’d tear you apart for what you did to your boys, Drake,” John practically snarled.
“Well, thanks to my all-expense-paid vacation to this winter wonderland courtesy of James Pruitt, I’ve had quite a bit of time to see the error of my ways, haven’t I? I’m not holding my breath for my sons to forgive me, but I do want them to know I have changed.”
“That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? As long as they’re married to my sons, they’re mine.”
Carson narrowed his eyes. “And what if they decide they want to try a relationship with me? Are you going to get in the way of that?”
John unlocked the gate and stepped through. He shut it behind him and set the locks. Turning to face Carson, he dropped his bag.
“No. I won’t. That’s if you’ve really changed. You owe those boys so much.” John kept his eyes locked on Carson’s posture; his shoulders seemed to sag a bit and he nodded his head.
“That’s all I ask for — a chance to show them I’ve changed.”
“When and if they decide to see for themselves, I won’t stand in their way. But I warn you now, Carson — you hurt those boys again and I will enjoy tearing you to pieces.”
Carson gave him a small smile. “You’re a good father, John. My boys are lucky.”
He coughed and motioned behind him. “There’s a cottage set up for you over there, easier to manage than the chateau. The females have been coming around now and then, doing checks; you may or may not see them. I haven’t seen Dane in a few weeks, but Petey’s lackeys have come around. The females chased them off.”
John started walking and Carson fell in step with him.
“So, Petey must suspect that Dane betrayed him.”
Carson nodded. “I would think so. I heard them about a week and a half ago. He and another man were shouting about their bankroll being low, saying that Dane knew more than what he was letting on. They also talked about Jude and some other guys.”
“What about Jude?” John stopped walking. This wasn’t the first time Petey and his flunkies had mentioned wanting Jude.
“It was weird. They didn’t say anything outright about their plans, but I know they want Jude and Jonas.”
“Jonas, too?” John brows furrowed. “Why Jonas?”
Carson shrugged. “Again, I don’t know. They didn’t say. They mentioned some other people as well — Skylar and Elijah? Petey was real upset about that. He said those two were being watched at all times, and told them to try to get some other guys? Weird names,” Carson tried to replay the conversation in his head. “Stone, I think? And Ryder. Oh, and they want some guy named Killian.”
John’s head snapped to Carson. “You heard all those names?”
Carson nodded. “I told Wayne right away. Who are all these people?”
“The first four are kids from the outreach center. Killian is…well we don’t know where his loyalties lie.”
“Well they aren’t with Petey, that’s for sure. They want this guy — bad. Dasan, too.”
“Well, we knew that.” John rubbed his face with his hands. “Dasan is very well protected, though. They won’t be able to get within five feet of him.” Jude and Hayden would die before they let Petey’s assholes get Dasan in their clutches.
“And the others? They are being protected too, right?”
John heard the sincerity in Carson’s voice and eyed him closely. “Why do you care?”
“They’re kids, aren’t they? This Petey guy is a bastard. I’ve never seen anyone so cold and calculating — and that’s coming from me.”
John grinned. “And you’re an extreme asshole.”
Carson sighed and gave a slight smile. “I know.”
He looked toward the setting sun and motioned to the cabin. “It’s stocked, and I’m a few steps that way.” Carson pointed behind him. “So if you need anything, just holler at me.”
John studied Carson Drake closely.
“How about a beer and a bonfire?” He smiled as hope reached Carson’s eyes. The man was lonely, isolated. Which was James’ plan: neutralize Carson as a threat by removing him from society. As much as John wanted to be an asshole, he just didn’t have it in him to kick a man when he was down.
Carson jumped at the opportunity to have a conversation with a real person. The females were not known for their social skills.
“Sure! Um, I’ll get some steaks?”
“Sounds good, I’ll meet you by the fire pit.”
John walked to his cabin and looked over his shoulder at Carson. He was practically running to his cabin.
He smiled and opened the door to his own. A small bed occupied one wall and a kitchenette took up the other side. One door opened into a bathroom. John set his bag down and looked around the sparsely furnished room.
“Well, this should be fun.”
After unpacking, he sent a mental message to Wayne to let him know he’d arrived and hadn’t seen any sign of the bad guys yet. Dane hadn’t checked in in days, and Wayne was starting to worry that Petey had caught the Siberian alpha. John pulled out the tranq gun that Evangeline had fitted with darts full of Xanax and bipolar meds. He stuffed it in the back of his jeans and went to meet Carson by the bonfire pit.
After eating and downing a few beers, John was surprised to find himself enjoying Carson Drake’s company. He really had turned over a new lea
f. Carson told him all about his late wife’s visit, and John shared his own afterlife visit.
“Weird, isn’t it?” Carson took a sip of his beer. “She even showed me the past, the things I said and did.” Carson shook his head sadly. “I don’t even know who that man was. My father was a righteous prick — homophobic to the core. I can’t believe that’s who I became. I couldn’t stand the man.”
“Some of us are destined to repeat the sins of the father.” John looked up at the star-filled sky. “My father was a good man, an honest man. When he died, I think my mother couldn’t bear to be without him. They said she died of a broken heart.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” Carson peeled the label off his beer. “When my wife died, I didn’t want anything to remind me of her. Jagger and Taylor were spitting images of what I’d lost, and I blamed Taylor for her death.” Carson took a deep breath and looked at John. “It was wrong of me to put that on him. I spoke with him briefly and apologized, but I have a long way to go.”
“You’re lonely, aren’t you?” John said quietly.
Carson nodded. “I’ve been saved twice now by one of the females. I keep asking her what her name is but all I get is a snort and a snarl.” Carson smiled sheepishly. “It would appear I don’t have any game.”
“At least she hasn’t tried to rip you apart,” John laughed.
“True, but I would just love someone to talk to.” Carson sat back, staring into the fire.
John found himself feeling sorry for Carson Drake. How weird was that? He couldn’t deny that solitary exile to a desolate land wouldn’t terrify him.
“Must be hard on you.”
Carson looked up with a smile. “It is, but I’ve made my bed. And now I have all the time in the world to lie in it.”
“What about Roy? Do you ever see him?”
Carson shook his head. “No. I think he stays down in the other cabins. I’ve barely seen him and we haven’t spoken.”
John’s brows furrowed. “That’s odd.”
“Not really. I mean who wants to spend time with me?” Carson chuckled. “I actually have your son Grayson to thank for my sons speaking to me at all.”
“Is that right?” John laughed.
“Yes. He’s very,” Carson tilted his head. “Forceful?”
“He is that.” John cleaned off his plate and put it down next to him. “So, do the rogues ever make it this far?”
“They try. The females run them off the pack land. They’ve tried everything — shooting them, tranquilizer guns, but when a female is full of that much rage?” Carson shivered. “Nothing slows them down.”
John thought of his own gun and grinned. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that with me. I’m here to find Dane and be bait, so to speak.”
“Well, it’s getting late.” Carson stood and wiped off his pants. “Thank you for this, John. I really do appreciate it. It’s nice to hear a voice other than my own.”
“No problem. I’ll be off in the morning; hopefully I can track Dane.”
“Good luck.” Carson walked back towards his cabin.
John closed his eyes and called out to Taylor.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“I just had a nice long conversation with Carson.”
“Oh? How did that go?”
“He’s coming around, Taylor. I think he’s really changed.”
“Time will tell.”
~*~
The sun’s morning rays drifted across the curtains and John rolled over. He looked at his watch and sat up in bed quickly. He needed to get a move on if he was going to cover a lot of land. After showering and packing his bag, he shifted and took off through the dense forest. His pack hung between his canines as John ran full out, covering miles in no time. That was one of the traits of the Maccon line — lightning speed and increased agility. Wayne had bitten each of his pack members to give them the extra benefits of the line.
After crossing most of the forest, he stopped to get a drink from one of the nearby rivers. The sun was making its descent as he shifted back and prepared to find shelter.
He tried calling out to Dane, but got no reply. Once he got a fire started, he scouted the area and got his bearings. Dried wood lay close to the opening of the forest and he made his way over, watching the area carefully.
As he reached out to grab the wood, a force hit him in the chest and knocked him backwards. He hit the ground hard, smacking his head on a rock. Stars lit up behind his eyes and he struggled to stand. Pain seared his thigh as canines ripped through the muscle and meat, tearing a nice-sized chunk out of him.
John fell back and tried to scoot away from the attacking creature. Yellow eyes looked him over and a hideous growl ripped from the rogue’s throat. Saliva dripped from large, pointed fangs.
John prepared to shift and that’s when all hell broke loose.
A snarl shook the forest floor and the rogue backpedaled right into a tree trunk. John righted himself awkwardly. The trees shook and then Anya stepped out of the forest.
The female was huge. Her coat was copper and her eyes were vibrant green. Another loud snarl left her lips as she advanced on the rogue. Whining noises met his ears and he realized the rogue was retreating.
Not only that, but he was pissing himself.
Anya sprung from her position and landed on the rogue. Within seconds, she had torn its throat out and ripped him to pieces.
John backed up quietly, trying to avoid detection. Anya trotted down to the river to cleanse her face and matted fur. Once done, she turned her attention to him and John realized he was in a very dangerous situation. Not only was he facing down a feral female, the rogue saliva in his leg was taking effect, weakening him.
“Hey now…” John backed up with one hand out, the other reaching for the tranquilizer gun full of Xanax and bipolar medication. Evangeline had fitted them all with the guns whenever they were with the females.
Anya either didn’t hear him or didn’t care; she continued to bear down on him. John grabbed the gun and pulled it out. Anya narrowed her eyes and growled. He put his finger on the trigger and pointed it at her.
“I don’t want to shoot you.”
He tried sending a mental message, but Anya wasn’t accepting them or, again, she didn’t care. John pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He looked at the gun and frantically tried to figure out what was wrong. The damn dart’s feather appeared to be tangled.
Anya was mere inches from him.
“Shit, shit, shit! I don’t want to hurt you!” John shouted. Anya rose on her hind legs and pinned him to the tree with her paws on his chest. Her teeth came within inches of his face — and then she stopped. John held his breath. Anya sniffed him out, and then nuzzled his jawline.
“I remember you.”
“Yes, my name is John Quinton. I’m a werewolf with the Maccon line. My alpha is Archer.”
“You were here before, with the others.”
“Yes. I’m not here to hurt you.”
“As if you could,” Anya huffed.
John took a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I need to shift to heal myself. Will you allow it?”
Anya dropped back to the ground and sat down. “Yes.”
John shifted into his lupine counterpart. The muscles and flesh regenerated with lightning-fast speed. He rolled to his side and took deep breaths to calm his racing heart.
“You would have shot me?” Anya tilted her head.
“It’s not a normal gun. It has medication in it. Medication that calms females.”
“Now who in their right mind would want that?” Anya snorted.
“You’d be surprised.” John closed his eyes.
“Nothing surprises me anymore.”
John lifted a lid. “No?”
“No. Men come and go; they get what they want and then move on to the next. You seem different, however.”
“Because I am.”
John shifted back, covering himself as best he coul
d.
Anya motioned to John’s wedding band with her muzzle. “Married?”
“No, she passed away.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
John opened both eyes and narrowed them at Anya. “You seem…calm?”
“Well, I don’t have PMS right now, but give me another week.”
John couldn’t help the chuckle that left him. He closed his eyes again and sighed. The pain was becoming much worse. John shifted back and tried to stand. Anya nudged him in his side.
“Get yourself into the shelter. I’ll stay close by.”
John rolled to his feet and eyed Anya. “How did you know?”
“I followed you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” Anya nudged him again in the side. This man, the one she’d scented before, was different from the others. He had sons who loved him; he had a family. And boy did he smell delicious.
John padded over to the tent he’d set up. He stopped and looked over his shoulder.
“Anya?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you, for saving me.”
Anya sat as John entered the tent. In her experience, men were vicious and cruel. But not this one. It was odd to have her beliefs thrashed by kind words from one man. She narrowed her eyes in the dark. The next rogue that came would die an even more horrible death. Yellow-eyed bastards.
John stared out the tent screen as Anya guarded the area. He was curious now — curious to see her in human form. Maybe tomorrow he would get that chance. The pain from the rogue bite was excruciating, and it took everything he had not to cry out. The Maccon blood ensured he wouldn’t die from it, but he might wish he would. Sweat rolled off of him and the urge to throw up was making its presence known. John crawled out of the tent and heaved his dinner into a pile of snow. A cold nose pushed at his muzzle and he saw Anya with something that looked like leaves hanging from her mouth.
“Eat these; it will help combat the saliva. It will also help you rest.”
John took them and chewed. His nose twitched at the smell and taste, but if it worked he was all for it.
“Thank you.” He nodded to Anya.
He padded back into the tent and flopped down on his stomach. He closed his eyes and hoped that in the morning, he would surely feel better.
Broken Bonds Page 3