Coyote's Mate

by Lora Leigh

  “My wrap and purse are still at the ballroom,” she told him. “My knives are in that purse. When it’s safer, I want a team flown into town and all our belongings collected. Get a list together. If we don’t get everything back, then we’re going to break a few rules and start breaking into houses. Whoever was behind this won’t be expecting us to come back to collect anything.”

  The soldier grinned. “I like how you think, Coya. I’ll get the information and get everything ready.”

  “Prepare a plan,” she told him. “When your alpha returns, we’ll submit your ideas to him in the eventuality that anything is missing. Because I’m betting you, someone is collecting it and splitting the goods now.”

  The women invited had all left their purses and wraps with the doorman. Some were exquisite creations donated by some of the world’s premier clothing makers on the off chance that the Breed females or mates would show off their creations and give them the cachet of knowing their designs were worn by the women chosen by the notorious Breeds.

  “Coya, I’m a lower-ranked soldier,” he finally said. “I’m not an enforcer. I should take this to an enforcer to prepare.”

  She turned on the man, her gaze going over him. “Were you considered defective in your lab, soldier?”

  “No, Coya.” His voice hardened, a deadly growl reflecting in it. “I was considered a class one stealth and exterminating specialist.”

  “Then here’s your chance to earn your bar as an enforcer,” she retorted. “You got lucky tonight, soldier.”

  “Yes, Coya.” He straightened. “I’ll get that information together now.”

  “Emma, I don’t have my communications set,” Anya reminded the other woman as she turned back to the window that looked in on the medical room.

  “It’s coming, Coya,” Emma promised her, then paused. “Our alpha is fine. No matter what.”

  “Of course he’s fine, and he’s going to be growling and snarling and tasting blood when he stomps into this mountain. Get on the radio, get me that communications set now. Tell those boys in Communications they better be anticipating every shred of information he’s going to need before he gets here. If I hear again that the information needed to defend this mountain isn’t available to him the minute he’s ready for it, then heads are going to roll.”

  During the last attack, she knew, Del-Rey had spent hours getting much needed information together because Communications and Security had been so surprised by the attack that they had been scrambling to figure out what was going on.

  “I should be in Communications,” she decided. “Keep a soldier here. I want reports sent in on that stubborn Breed’s status every five minutes. And if she tries to pull her usual get-up-and-fight bullshit, then have her sedated.”

  She turned and headed along the passageway as the other Breeds watched her assessingly. This was her first time as second-in-command while Del-Rey was considered on base.

  Coyote Breeds had a love-hate conflict in regards to their coya sometimes. She didn’t reside in their mountain while their alpha was there. They had felt deserted by their leader’s other half, and Del-Rey’s original team felt as though she had deserted their alpha.

  Now Emma almost smiled. She, Sharone and Ashley had done well. Eight months. In only eight months Anya was automatically taking her place as Del-Rey’s second-in-command and his mate.

  “Call up to Communications and have them ready for her,” Emma ordered the soldier. “Make certain she has a cup of coffee or she’s going to crash and burn on us the way she’s using adrenaline at the moment. I also want the doctor standing by for hormonal injections if needed. That adrenaline crash sometimes retriggers the heat.”

  And Anya could get pissy if she went into heat without warning. Not to mention the fact that Del-Rey would have all their heads if Anya ended up in pain again.

  The soldier nodded and made the calls as they stepped into the elevator and made the descent into the well-protected communications center.

  She glanced at Anya. Her coya’s shoulders were straight, her head held high, sapphire eyes glittering in her pale face. And for the first time, Emma noticed the little sprinkling of freckles across Anya’s nose.

  “He’s fine,” she murmured again.

  “Of course he’s fine,” Anya snapped. “Have Medical be prepared just in case. And tell me again why the hell we don’t have our own operating rooms and surgeon in-house.” She turned and glared at Emma.

  Emma shrugged. She knew the answer; Anya knew the answer. “Dr. Armani . . .” was their designated specialist.

  “Is a Wolf Breed specialist,” Anya snapped. “I’ve had enough of this.”

  “Hard to get a surgeon to perform surgery when he’s dead,” Emma reminded her.

  She remembered. Just as she knew there were at least two Coyote specialists well adept in surgery, Coyote genetics and general Breed medicine that would be well able to treat them.

  Anya pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders and turned to stare at the Breeds watching her curiously.

  They were hardened killers. But standing there, they were staring at her as though she represented more than a pretty face or a singular title she had refused to acknowledge outside the most basic of duties.

  She let her gaze connect with one of the olive green-garbed soldiers. Her gaze flickered over the plain military uniform he wore. Wolves and Felines both had a uniform for each designation of their forces. Something else Del-Rey hadn’t been able to take care of.

  “Find me some damned jeans,” Anya muttered as the doors opened and they swept into the huge communications network set up underground. “This dress sucks.”

  CHAPTER 11

  If there was a bone or muscle that didn’t hurt in his body, then Del-Rey couldn’t find it. Brim did a rough stitch on the laceration on his arm after he managed to reset the dislocated shoulder.

  Blood fury had raged, though, the second the all-terrain went flying through the air. Jumping from it, they had moved in on the position of the men attempting to ambush the Breed limos.

  They’d run like rats, but humans were no match for the Breeds’ night senses and tracking abilities. They’d captured five of the bastards; one had died as he fired a bullet that managed to lodge in Del-Rey’s other shoulder.

  They were still trying to find all the pieces of his throat after Del-Rey had managed to tear it out.

  Wolfe, his heads of security, Jacob and Aiden, as well two Wolf Breed and two Coyote teams were present. Del-Rey was still staring at Ivan in disbelief as he was relating how Anya had sent out the second team of Coyote soldiers along with three of his enforcers—Ivan, Samuel and Mordecai—in the heli-jet to make certain they brought back their alpha, breathing.

  He wanted to shake his head. That wasn’t the Anya he knew, but as he’d learned in the past week, the Anya he had known had grown in ways he still didn’t fully understand.

  “She has control of Communications.” Brim covered the mic of his communications headset and stared back at Del-Rey in amusement. “She hasn’t cussed yet, but she’s demanding a report.”

  “Tell her I’m breathing,” he grunted.

  “She’s ordered a team to Haven,” Brim told him then. “And an enforcer to interrogate the bartender we brought back with us. She’s been in contact with the lupina, Hope, and they’re coordinating—umm—defenses.”

  Del-Rey winced and looked at Wolfe, who didn’t seem in the least concerned.

  He finally shrugged. Hell, Hope, Faith and Anya’s bodyguards had prepared her for this. At this point he had no choice but to trust in her abilities.

  “She threw Sofia out of Communications. Did you know she was headed back to Base?” Brim asked. Del-Rey gave him a negative shake of his head. “While her soldiers turned their backs and covered her, she tossed her dress aside and within seconds had on jeans, a T-shirt and sneakers, and she was barking out orders the whole time. Our men are scared, Del.”

  Del-Rey snorted at the thou
ght of that. His men were scared of nothing, least of all a coya they all but revered.

  “Damn, she’s running the place like she was born to it.” Brim looked worried. “What the hell is she doing learning how to run Command this way?”

  Del-Rey lifted his head from where he had glanced at the ground, processing the information Brim was giving him. God, he fucking hurt.

  “She’s going to make our lives hell and in the end most likely have us thanking God for it,” he finally told his enforcer. “Get the heli-jet ready to fly. I need to get to Haven for medical assistance before I return to Base. Our medical techs aren’t experienced enough to deal with my wounds.”

  He might have a cracked rib. He probed at it and winced, hoping it wasn’t too severe. He’d had every intention of mating his little mate at the first opportunity. He had a feeling that wasn’t happening tonight.

  “She’s demanding a detailed report,” Brim suddenly hissed.

  “Down to that last scratch on that mangy Coyote’s hide, as she’s calling you. Del-Rey, I’m not dealing with her.”

  “Then deal with her when we get back to Base,” Del-Rey sighed. “Is that heli-jet prepped yet?”

  “Fuck! She finds out you went to Haven for medical and she’s going to be waiting on all of us with a gun.”

  There was something more serious than his coya’s irritation. Del-Rey forced himself not to sway as he felt the blood seeping from his side from the branch that had punctured it earlier.

  Blood loss definitely. Possible internal damage. He listed the injuries in his mind, searching for any other problems. Sometimes, Dr. Armani needed help in diagnosing Coyote medical problems.

  “Hell!” Brim suddenly caught him, his hand uncovering the mic at his mouth. “Get that heli-jet ready,” he yelled out. “We have alpha three in distress. I repeat. Alpha three in distress. Notify Armani we’re flying in.”

  He should have told Brim about the puncture, Del-Rey thought caustically. The leather of the jacket had helped, but that damned wood had been spiked.

  He felt the helping hands and pushed them away as he pushed himself to his feet and waved his men to the transport. He could still walk under his own steam. He’d been wounded worse and made it back to pick up plenty of times; he would damned sure make it to Haven now.

  Anya froze as she heard the order. “Alpha three in distress. Notify Armani.”

  She could have sworn she felt the blood leech from her face.

  “Well, it seems he managed to get himself hurt,” Sofia drawled in amusement from the doorway of Command.

  Mocking and filled with cold amusement, the other woman had Anya’s fingers curling to keep from trying to tear her eyes out.

  “We’re going to Haven,” she ordered Emma before turning to the lieutenant in charge of command personnel. “You have Command. Keep me updated every thirty.”

  “Base is under lockdown, Coya.” The computer tech stared up at her in concern. “We can’t unlock without the alpha’s authority.”

  “You’ll unlock or I promise you, you’ll be on perimeter duty, sleeping on the dirt outside, for the next month,” Anya snapped. “Get a door open and get me out of here.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.” Sofia was leaning against a wall, inspecting her fingernails. “I saw him take a bullet to the belly four months ago. He was up and moving around hours after they removed it and bitching orders right and left. He’s tough.”

  “Alpha three has lost consciousness.” The voice came through the communications speakers.

  All the Coyotes in the room raised their heads to the monitor that showed the heli-jet lifting off.

  “We have a deep puncture to the left side, possible kidney damage. Bullet, right shoulder. Laceration left biceps, laceration left thigh. Possible cracked rib.”

  Anya could feel her legs weakening.

  “Emma!”

  “Exit found,” Emma called out. “Team three is waiting, Haven has been notified that you’re arriving. Armani is prep-ping Surgery.”

  “Move!” Anya turned, pushing at Emma to move faster until they were practically running for the elevator. The Coyote soldiers surrounded her as she, Emma and Ashley stepped into the cubicle.

  The ascension was quick, though each second seemed a lifetime to Anya. As the doors slid open, she was moving to the second team, waiting at a narrow access door leading through a narrow stone tunnel.

  “All-terrains are waiting outside,” one of the soldiers informed her quickly. “You’ll be riding with your two personal bodyguards. As well as three soldiers. Two vehicles ahead of you, two behind.”

  “One ahead of me, three behind,” she informed him, flashing him a hard look. “Missiles generally aim for the middle vehicle and you know it.”

  “An armed ambush would go for the first two vehicles first,” he argued. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

  She turned on him, eyes narrowed, rage shaking through her.

  “Delay me a single second longer and I’ll have you reported to the Coyote Cabinet for reprimand. Don’t assume, soldier, that I’m not well aware of our security and protection protocols, because I am. Now, get your head out of your own egotistical ass and get me to Haven before I have Emma shoot you.”

  Emma smiled and laid her hand on the butt of the weapon strapped to her side.

  “Why can’t I shoot him?” Ashley pouted. “Emma gets all the fun.”

  She ignored them, waving to the team ahead of her to proceed. She wasn’t ignorant. She knew how to run Base; she’d studied everything about the Coyote base that she could study and spent hours upon hours working command simulations with the techs in charge of the command center. She’d thrived on the challenge of learning. But now she was terrified she wouldn’t get to Del-Rey in time.

  Exiting the caverns, she moved quickly to the second all-terrain and jumped into the back, knowing damned good and well no one was going to let her ride up front. Emma and Ashley sat on either side of her as the Coyote soldiers filled the front and back weapon areas.

  Within seconds the five vehicles were racing back down the mountain, swinging around the curves and entering the secured pass into Haven.

  Minutes later she was jumping to the ground and moving swiftly into the medical bunker, moving through the secured area and down the incline belowground to the surgical and medical areas.

  “Brim.” She moved quickly to Del-Rey’s personal bodyguard and second-in-command. “How is he?”

  Brim looked harried.

  “You shouldn’t be here, Coya,” he admonished her. “You’re safer at Base.”

  She was tired of everyone acting as though she didn’t belong in the places she wanted to be.

  She glared back at him. “I didn’t ask for your opinion; I asked for your report.”

  He gave it, and when he finished, Anya felt her frustration rising. Dr. Armani was fighting against genetics she didn’t understand, but Del-Rey had stabilized. The blood kept on hand for just such an occasion had been used to replace what he had lost, but his system was moving sluggishly, accepting the drugs the doctor had created to treat Coyote wounds, but those drugs still weren’t as effective as they could be.

  Unfortunately, there was very little information on the treatment of Coyote Breeds in the labs. Coyotes were slightly more paranoid than the Wolves and Felines. Talk about the destruction of records. All records. Nothing had been saved, on the off chance that anyone would find a weakness they were unaware of.

  This couldn’t continue.

  “Emma,” she murmured as Brim moved away. “I need a contact.”

  “No. Don’t ask me to do that.” Emma sighed. “I nearly got caught last time, Anya. I’m telling you, breaking that rule is such a no-no that it could get me killed.”

  Contacting her father was expressly forbidden unless by phone. Twice Anya had managed to slip out to visit with him on the other side of town.

  “He has the information I need,” she hissed. “What he doe
sn’t have, he can get. We’re going to end up losing men if we don’t get a Coyote specialist in here. Now, set it up.”

  “I hate you, Coya.” She grimaced. “Del-Rey will kick my ass personally, then slit my throat.”

  “Him or me, take your choice.” Anya shrugged before turning and pacing to the doors that led to Surgery.

  She couldn’t see in here, as she could when she’d watched the techs treat Sharone. She was barred from Surgery, barred from seeing him herself.

  “Anya?” Hope touched her arm.

  Anya swung around to face the slightly Asian, exquisite features of the Wolf Breed lupina, the mate to the alpha leader Wolfe Gunnar. At her side was the Breed pack and pride liaison Faith, a Wolf Breed herself.

  “Thanks for coming, Hope.” She smiled back at the other woman. “Is Wolfe okay?”

  Hope nodded. “A few scratches, nothing more. He’s in a meeting room going ballistic with the army again over a gun-ship that didn’t get out in time. Jonas Wyatt is en route along with the pride alpha and his prima, Callan and Merinus Lyons. They’re considering a protest against the army base. They should have been prepared. They were on alert for any trouble tonight, but didn’t respond.”

  “Typical,” Anya sighed.

  “Wolfe sends his regards and says if you need anything, you’ve only to let us know.”

  Anya nodded. “Base is secure and we have information coming in. I’d like a copy of anything you have as well as full sanction for Del-Rey’s enforcer, Brim, to interrogate your prisoner as well.”

  Hope nodded. “I’ll contact Wolfe immediately. He mentioned you might want to want to do that but he wasn’t certain of your priorities.”

  What had changed within her? The moment Del-Rey had jumped from that limo, everything she had learned about Base and the pack had kicked in. As though she had been born to stand at Del-Rey’s side and do what had to be done when he couldn’t.

  That was the alpha female’s job. Hope had always pulled Anya along with her when Wolfe was required to lead certain missions. The weight of command seemed to sit comfortably on the other woman’s shoulders. Anya had noticed that about Merinus Lyons, the alpha pride leader, or prima as they called her. Both women knew how to lead, how to snap from mate to commander in the blink of an eye.

  Something Anya had done without thinking as well. As though the entire time she’d been observing Hope, Anya had also absorbed the ability and the knowledge to begin stepping into her role of coya, the alpha female, the other half of the Coyote alpha pack leader.

  Anya had always been a quick study. Anything that interested her, that caught her curious mind, was easily learned.

  The Council had already chosen her for advanced admistrative and covert intelligence work. She had been scheduled to leave the labs within days before the Breeds’ escape.

  “Come with me for a few minutes, Anya,” Hope encouraged her, leading her from the doors to a small sitting area. “Is everything going well with you and Del-Rey now?”

  Anya turned back to her, watching the other woman intently. “We still snap and snarl at each other.”

  Hope’s lips twitched as she smoothed back her shoulder-length straight black hair. “Proceeding as expected then,” she stated.

  Anya shook her head. “I don’t understand him. I want to, but sometimes . . .” She shrugged. “He told me tonight that I’m what makes him worthy.” She frowned at the thought. “You can’t base your worthiness on someone else, Hope.”

  Hope’s expression eased into a smile. “You’re talking about a man that’s aware he’s not natural,” she said softly. “One who was created and trained with the understanding that he wasn’t natural. That nature or God, or whoever you attribute the beginning of life to, didn’t breathe that life into him. Now, suddenly, nature or that God has given him something that’s marked solely as his. His other half. A comfort, a warmth, someone that eases all those lost, lonely dreams he didn’t know he had. That’s a part of being a Breed male. They base who and what they are on the acceptance they gain from that mate, Anya. You can’t change that.”

  And maybe that was part of what terrified her when it came to Del-Rey. An innate knowledge that she was the woman this man had chosen, among all the women he had been with, those he had known, or could have known. He had chosen her. His body had chosen her. His soul had chosen her.

  Which meant she belonged to him and everything he was. Even more, he belonged to her in the same way.

  “Jonas showed me your file,” Hope admitted then. “Our director of the Bureau of Breed Affairs is amazingly efficient. That file listed your IQ as pretty much off the charts. Notes in the files state that anything you ‘want’ to learn, you excel at quickly and I’ve seen that. You’ve taken your place as the coya of your pack in a matter of months. You knew inside you couldn’t escape it, Anya. You didn’t want to escape it, or Del-Rey. Did you?”

  “At the time, I had to.” And she had known that then as she knew it now. “That doesn’t mean I know how to be the woman he needs or that old hurts are easily forgotten,” she whispered. “Being coya is a far cry from being a Breed’s mate, isn’t it?”

  Hope nodded slowly. “Yes, it is. But being a Breed’s mate can quickly become even more important than anything you ever imagined, Anya. His lover. Letting him be the man you love. It’s growth. Just as you’ve grown in the past eight months. Because you wanted to grow. It was in you to do it, and you did it far quicker than any of us anticipated.”

  “You were working me.” She saw it now. Eight months of being worked, slowly, surely.

  “Only in the most loving ways. We’re pack, Coya. We stick together and we help our own. It’s the only way we’ll survive in this crazy world we’ve been drawn into,” Hope said softly before her gaze shifted past Anya.

  Anya twisted around, watching as Dr. Armani moved from surgery, her dark face creased in a frown as she pulled the mask from her face and found Anya’s gaze.

  Anya was on her feet and moving to her, even as Brim stepped between them.

  “Status,” Brim snapped.

  Anya laid her hand on his arm and moved in front of him. She was aware of his irritation, the tension in his body as he stepped aside.

  “Coya, I need a Coyote assistant,” Armani sighed. “Why did they kill all their scientists? We could have used one.”

  Because their scientists were mad—not evil, not cruel, but their search for the perfect unfeeling warrior had been relentless. Letting them live hadn’t been an option. The two Anya had hidden were the exception.

  “Something’s wrong?” Anya asked carefully.

  “He’s already started healing.” Dr. Armani grimaced, shaking her head. “The wound was healing around the bull