She’d gotten a lot of startled looks racing through the various residential neighborhoods, past ugly box-like apartment buildings and attractive three-story houses, most of which were in various stages of disrepair. But not all. Some had been restored to their original glory.
Albany was an interesting city. The city center had some incredible architecture, ornate brick and stone facades that were stately and elegant. But as soon as you left the downtown, it was more like a sprawling collection of aging suburbs, most of them experiencing some form of economic malaise. Although this far north, the houses were very pleasant and well-maintained.
Her other option was to follow this tributary all the way up to the Mohawk and then swim for the other side and keep going north along another tributary, hiking straight up the middle of the stream until she was certain he’d lost her scent. Because so far, nothing else had worked.
There had been one really bad moment when he’d had her cornered in a blind alley. She’d thought that was it. Game over. She stood facing him, her back against the wall of a building, while he slowly stalked closer. Heart pounding, her gaze skittered around the alley, searching for a way out. The smell of the garbage in the dumpster was strong, but Marten’s scent in the enclosed space was much more alarming.
He lunged for her, and she dodged to the side, clambering up a rickety pile of wooden crates stacked beside the dumpster. The wood cracked under her feet. She could feel it giving way, but it gave her just enough lift as she pushed off to scramble up and get both hands and one knee on a narrow window ledge, launching herself toward the top of the back wall before she fell. It was not a move she would have contemplated under other circumstances, but—
She skinned her palms along the stucco top of the alley wall, and in a wild feat of acrobatics, flipped around so she was briefly facing back the way she came. The savage look on Marten’s face was something she’d never forget. In the next instant she pushed off with her hands, landing feet first on the other side of the wall. Like a frightened gazelle, she raced down the other side of the alley and into the street. She couldn’t fight back a shiver. Having a lion on your tail was not a good feeling. And all this chasing was having an effect. The powerful, musky scent of Marten’s arousal was enough to make her body quake. She did not want to feel that way about Marten, but there was no denying her body’s reaction. It was a biological imperative among the People. The mating chase.
Biology is a bitch.
Aster kept running. That wall wouldn’t stop him long. The boxes might be shattered, but he’d find some other way over. Or just go around. But that had been just enough to give her a head start, and she’d managed to stay ahead of him ever since.
That was almost two hours ago. It had to be getting close to five o’clock. And Aster was exhausted. Swimming across the river was going to be a challenge. And if he caught her down here—
Only the fact that they were in the middle of a city had kept him from shifting and finishing the chase. Aster shivered in the early evening breeze coming off the water. Please, dear Maiden— let him have lost the scent. She couldn’t detect any hint of him on the breeze so hopefully…
She tiptoed along the edge of the abandoned building, aiming for a clump of trees just a little upstream. She peeked around the edge of the building—
And screamed. Marten lunged at her from around the corner, grinning like a maniac. She scrambled backward but her foot caught on the uneven ground, and she went down hard on her ass.
He was on her in a second, his scent hitting her full in the face. Musk, and desire, and—male. Her stomach tightened, tiny rippling flutters rolling through it. She tried to shrink back into the ground.
“Now I’ve got you,” he growled, the deep timbre of his voice skating up her spine. “You won’t be getting away this time.”
Aster just barely bit back a whimper. She tried to slither out from under him, but he was a solid, heavy weight on top of her. Pinning her down. And horribly, her body began to react. Against her will, she felt a tingling awareness growing between her legs.
So this is how it happens. This is how they force the bond.
There was a loud splash as something large landed in the water from the trees above. Marten pulled back and Aster turned her head to stare at the river in shock.
There, rising from the water like some kind of male version of Venus being born from the foam, was Dean.
Marten froze above her and Aster’s mouth dropped open. Dean walked calmly out of the water as if he did it every day. As if he were a sea creature that spent most of his time beneath its surface. But his face was harder than she’d ever seen it.
“I challenge,” he said, his distinctive deep voice seeming to echo in the tree-lined corridor along the river. Water poured off him, plastering his hair to his head and his clothes to his body. Aster had never seen anything more wonderful in her life.
Marten pushed himself off her and rose to his feet. He scoffed. “You challenge me?”
“I do.” Resolve rang in Dean’s voice. It was there in every line of his body. He jerked his head toward Aster without breaking eye contact with Marten. “For her. Mating rights.”
Aster’s stomach flipped over. Mating rights? He couldn’t be serious. But he looked serious as a heart attack. He also looked completely outclassed.
Aster scrambled to her feet, brushing dirt, mud and sticks from her clothes and trying to think of something to do. This was so not good.
Dean was smaller than Marten, both in height and in build. Not that Dean was short, he had to be just over six feet, but Marten probably had a good three inches and at least thirty pounds on Dean. But he stood before Marten with loose-limbed confidence, hands down by his sides, held slightly apart from his body. He looked ready.
Marten circled to the left and Dean mirrored him. It was as if they were participating in some pre-choreographed—but deadly—dance. And then suddenly Marten charged. Dean stepped back, neatly avoiding him, letting the momentum of the larger man carry him past. It was almost comical.
Marten turned and growled. “Fight, you piss-ant coward.”
“Oh, I intend to,” Dean replied, his voice calm. As if he wasn’t fighting a much larger opponent—one who liked to fight to the death.
Aster’s stomach was clenched in a knot. She backed away slowly, trying to deny what was happening. She was going to end up just like her mother. She would watch the man she loved die, and then she herself would die too, in a useless challenge. How had it come to this?
Marten circled Dean warily, searching for an opening, not as ready to commit this time. The two of them feinted at each other while Aster’s heart pounded in her throat. This could not be happening.
Then Marten lunged in to attack, and again Dean took a step back, as controlled as if he practiced the move every day. But this time he immediately stepped back in, following Marten as he went past and knocking his legs out from under him with one kick. Marten smacked down hard on his back. Quick as a striking snake, Dean darted in and kicked him in the back of the head. Once. Marten sprawled boneless on the ground.
He turned to her then, not an ounce of softness in his expression.
“This is what you call being careful? Running through the city in broad daylight on a mating chase?”
Aster opened her mouth to answer, but nothing came out.
Dean reached behind him and pulled his wet shirt over his head by the back collar. Aster’s mouth went dry. Water dripped down his sculpted torso, running along the slim trail of hair leading into his jeans. She swallowed. Dean narrowed his eyes at her.
“I just fought a mating challenge for you.” He reached for the top button of his jeans. “And I can smell you. Run, Aster. Stay close to the river.”
She stood there for a moment, mouth opening and closing.
“Run!”
She whirled on her heel and ran.
** *
Jesse felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He glanced over at Boaz sitti
ng silently in the passenger seat of his truck. At least this time Jesse was driving to Albany instead of relying on a combination of buses, trains and his feet. He fished his phone out of his pocket and held it up so he could glance at the screen without taking his eyes off the road for more than a second.
And shit. There was a lot of text on the screen. From Lucas. He glanced at Boaz again, debating. But he decided it was better to take the time to read the message himself rather than hand it over to Boaz and risk pissing off his Alpha even further.
He eased off the gas, signaled, and then pulled over to the shoulder of the highway. They were just outside of Albany now, maybe a half an hour from the city.
Jesse – I am changing your orders. Dean texted. He has Aster, but Marten is in the area. I want you to find out what he’s up to. I’m texting you his last known location. You can pick up his scent there. Report back as soon as you pick it up.
Jesse winced. He deserved that. What a fool he’d been, gambling with his place in the pack like that. But he just couldn’t put it completely out of his mind. That maybe Aster—
He cut off that line of thought. Not helpful.
There was a map of Albany with a location pinned just north of the city. He texted back.
Got it. Will text as soon as we pick up the scent.
He tucked his phone back in his pocket before signaling to get back on the highway. “Change of plans,” he said to Boaz. “Marten’s in the city. We’re going after him.”
“Aster?”
“Dean has her.” Jesse was careful to keep any emotion from his voice.
Boaz just grunted.
Chapter 13
Discovered Check occurs when one piece is moved out of the way and thus opens the King to a new threat. If the King is unable to counter this attack, it is often referred to as Discovered Mate.
— From the Journals of Aster Ardennes
Marten sat up and groaned, rubbing the back of his head. He glanced around the deserted riverbed, confirming what his nose had already told him. They were gone.
The little shit won. He couldn’t believe it. His back was sore where he’d landed on it, but not as bad as it could have been. The riverbank was soft here, not the hard-packed and rocky terrain of the pack territory. But his head was throbbing. He started to shake it and stopped immediately. The little Apprentice Lore Master kicked me in the head.
In the precise location to render him unconscious. Marten wouldn’t have believed it if he weren’t sitting here suffering the consequences.
Well, he’d known the kid had a thing for the princess. Not that Dean was actually younger than Marten. It just felt that way. The kid might actually be older. Marten sighed and rubbed his head again gingerly. Sometimes he felt older than the mountains.
He pushed himself to his feet and staggered over to a clump of trees confirming that—yes—those were Dean’s clothes neatly folded in a pile. Marten started undoing his buttons, mouth twisting. Chasing Aster through the city decked out in business attire had not been a big advantage. Somehow the Princess had managed to stay just far enough in front of him, until he’d finally gotten the jump on her here by the water. There had been that one point in the alley when he’d thought he had her. But she’d eluded him even then. He pursed his lips. Maybe that had been a sign. The Moon Maiden did not seem to want her for his mate. Marten hadn’t been all that thrilled about it either, but there was no denying she would have made his life much easier.
That little shit won the challenge and is on a mating run right here in the city.
Now that took balls.
Marten steadied himself with one hand against a tree and kicked off his dress shoes. Running in those had sucked ass. He shrugged off his jacket, one arm at a time, examining it before dropping it to the ground. It was toast. One seam torn under the armpit and smeared with mud, but it had kept his button-down clean. Thank the Maiden for small miracles. Folding his shirt, he dropped it on top of Dean’s pile, followed by his pants. Let him try to sort out that little puzzle. Bracing against the tree, he fingered the lump at the back of his head with the other hand.
He sighed. The kid had won the challenge. Marten was still his Alpha. He drew in a breath and said the words.
“Blessed Moon Maiden, Mother of us all, if this union pleases you, gift them with a strong bond and many healthy children.”
His mouth tightened into a grim line as he felt the power gather within him and flash out, silently racing upstream in the early evening light. He grimaced, wavering slightly as he leaned against the tree, and then he shifted.
Marten opened the door to the office suites of Special-T Pharmaceuticals. Or, S.T.P. Incorporated, as the sign on the door stated. Not surprisingly, no one was around at just past six on a Friday evening. But something smelled really good. He entered the office and sniffed. His body came to instant attention.
Woman.
Fertile.
Vanilla… and cream… and… sugar.
His mouth watered. Trying to ignore the distracting scent, he crossed the reception area and entered the conference room—
And got slammed in the face with another scent, this one not quite… ripe, maybe? Spice layered over tangy orange. Woman, yes. Fertile? Hmmm…
Wait a minute. That was Dr. Evans’ scent tangled in with the others. Sweet citrus and spice. Dr. Evans had never smelled like that before. She wasn’t fertile. But the spicy orange overlaying it was strong and… alluring. The scent was like an attack on the senses.
Marten shivered, feeling his instincts start to take over. He grabbed his briefcase—what he’d come back for in the first place—and beat a hasty retreat. His head had stopped throbbing after he’d shifted down by the water, but he was still a little dizzy. Just slightly unsteady, and he didn’t like it.
He emerged into the reception area and felt a wave of relief as the soft scents of vanilla and cream washed over him. Soothing him. Pulling him. It was strongest by the reception desk, and his feet headed in that direction without conscious thought. Good thing she was gone already because—
Another scent—sweet—too sweet—like syrup and honey combined together, and fighting for dominance, broke into his consciousness. Laced with chocolate. His vision, which was swimming, zeroed in on a shiny gold box of fancy chocolate sitting on the desk. Instantly he knew what happened.
That little minx set this up. Tried to set me up. That’s why she was here.
Yes, moving closer, he could just make out Aster’s natural aroma underneath all the warring odors by the desk. But there was one scent that floated above them all, the best scent, that creamy ribbon of vanilla, sprinkled with crystals of spun sugar, leading him past the desk. There was just the lightest hint of lemon— yes, that was the receptionist, Millie. He’d always liked her delicate scent, lemon balm and something sweet, and now it was woven in with the vanilla, dancing through the cream and sugar. He inhaled deeply, following the flow of it floating down the hall…
A door opened on his left, and Millie appeared in the doorway like a vision from heaven. A gift. He put a hand to her belly and pushed her right back in again. The door swung shut behind them, enclosing them in the ladies’ bathroom.
“What are you doing?” Millie’s voice was startled, but her scent was— unbelievable.
“I’m claiming you.” His voice was gruff, already rough with desire. Her scent was all-consuming, making it hard to think. He didn’t know the rules for humans. There hadn’t been a chase, but—
“Any problem with that?”
“Um… no?” She gazed up at him with wide, startled eyes.
“Be sure. Because once I start, I’m not going to stop.” He pressed her back against the countertop and lowered his head to inhale her sweet fragrance. His lips found the soft silky flesh of her neck and nuzzled in. Please, dear Maiden, take pity on your son. Let her say yes.
“Okay?” he prompted.
“Okay.” It was a breathy little whisper that sent a jolt straight to his co
ck. Good enough.
He closed his eyes for a moment and just inhaled her. Thank you, dear Goddess. It was definitely one of his most heartfelt prayers.
He closed his hands around her hips and yanked her hard against his body. She squeaked and went stiff—then melted against him. Thank fuck. He was vaguely aware that this had been the Princess’s plan all along, but couldn’t make himself care. This was better than anything he’d ever imagined. Already he could feel her essence soothing the whirling wildness churning inside him. Her scent easing that crawling sense of urgency, just below the surface.
“Turn around,” he barked, and smiled when arousal flooded her scent. Yes. She liked that.
She bit her lip, staring up at him tentatively. She had beautiful hazel-green eyes.
“Now, Millie Griffin. Turn. Around.”
She gave a tiny nod and turned her back to him. In one smooth motion, he pulled her shapeless beige sweater and the black shirt beneath up and over her head, knotting them around her wrists. He stood behind her and pressed her hands down on the counter.
“Don’t move.”
She nodded. In the mirror, he could see she was biting her lip again. Her willingness to do as he told her, in spite of her uncertainty, sent a new flood of desire coursing through his body. She was perfect. This was what he’d been searching for all this time.
There was no way to tie the shirt to anything, except maybe the faucet of the sink, and he didn’t think that would be comfortable for her. This would have to do. She was wearing a black satin bra that plunged down enticingly, doing amazing things to her cleavage. Especially with her breasts pressed between her bound arms and bent over like that. Watching her in the mirror, he ran his hands slowly down her sides to her hips. He paused for a moment, then pulled her roughly back against his hard, aching cock.
Checkmate Page 11