by Laina Kenney
She looked again, but saw no one. She had lost sight of Xander and his friend.
She reached for her phone and stood with it in her hand for a long time before setting it down again. She knew Balke was close, but she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to call Balke about it.
He was strong, and able, and would think nothing of protecting her from any threat however small. She knew it like she knew her own name.
But she didn’t want to call him, to rely on him or any man for every little thing. She had been perfectly capable of handling her life before he showed up, and just because he was so strong and so male, she didn’t want it to make her into one of those simpering, wailing females who couldn’t do a single thing for themselves.
It never failed to set her teeth on edge when other women wrung their hands and waited for the husband to show up to make some simple decision that any person with a functioning brain could make. She certainly didn’t want to become one of those women.
But the danger was real and the lure was there to let him handle it. It wasn’t anything Balke was doing wrong. On the contrary, it was his strength of character as much as his inherent physical power that created the problem. The vivid temptation to lean on him was within herself. He made everything female in her take notice, and what she noticed most was that he was a protector. He was everything a man should be, and he made her feel primitively female in response.
It wasn’t that he was wrong, but that he was so perfectly a man in a world full of grown up boys.
She almost laughed. She would never say that to him. His ego was plenty healthy enough as it was without her telling him that he inspired such gratitude and awe in her heart.
It wouldn’t do to have him think that every female on the planet would do what he wanted the moment he wanted it. She most likely would want to do what he wanted, because she needed to please him and her love for him left her no defenses, but she didn’t think it would be prudent to say so. No, probably best to be casual as much as possible with that particular fact.
She went back to her painting and spent some time refining the details. She always lost track of time when the creative fever hit, and she always welcomed the inspiration.
The only thing that brought her back to the surface finally was her growing thirst. A quick glance out the window let her know that it was full dark. She must have lost another hour, but looking at the quality of the work, she couldn’t regret it.
She filled the kettle with water and plugged it in. Such introspection demanded a cup of tea, she thought with a grin.
She heard a cut-off scream from downstairs.
The fine hairs stood up on the back of her neck and her arms. She knew that voice. Emma.
Iselle’s hands shook as she grabbed the phone again, but she managed to text Balke.
Emma screamed. Going downstairs.
The response was almost instant.
On my way. Hide. Do not go downstairs.
As if she would hide and leave her best friend in a bad situation all alone. Her fear warred with her deepest instincts. She cared for Emma. Balke didn’t know her very well if he thought she was the kind of person who would stay safe while she knew her friend was in danger.
Going downstairs.
Iselle turned her phone notifications to mute so that his response wouldn’t distract her and crept down the back stairs.
* * * *
Balke’s claws sprang free around his cell phone and a growl burst from his lips as he stood. His chair clattered to the floor behind him and his father looked around the kitchen and scented for danger.
Egan stood from the table even as Balke did, and the tie fabric samples for his wedding dropped to the floor unheeded. Balke’s mother scooped them up, looking from one twin to the other.
“Brother,” Egan said as Balke texted his response.
On my way. Hide. Do not go downstairs.
He hoped, but did not believe, that Iselle would stay hidden and out of danger. She would rush to her friend’s side without any concern for her own life. He knew it even before her response flashed on the tiny screen.
Going downstairs.
His teeth grated together to hold in a bloodcurdling cry. He was too far from her to keep her safe and his fear blazed up into a rage that left him shaking.
“My mate is in danger.”
Balke’s last word was garbled by his transformation to wolf. He ran flat out, phone in his mouth, and his brother by his side in human form.
He sent his senses out searching ahead of him and latched on to Iselle’s soul light. He could feel by the speed of her heartbeat that she was frightened. Though he was too far away to be able to tell if she was in immediate danger, his well-developed instincts kicked him into such a burst of speed that even Egan with all his gifts was hard-pressed to pace him.
* * * *
Iselle crept down the back stairs with a steak knife in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Emma’s spare key was in her pocket. She didn’t honestly know what she would do with either one if there was trouble, but she would have felt like a fool going down with nothing.
She had backup coming, but she didn’t know his timetable and she didn’t know if Emma could wait. What if Xander was down at Emma’s? Iselle didn’t know how much time Emma might have, but she knew Xander was angry with Emma, and anyone who would threaten a woman, and break and enter, didn’t have much in the way of morals.
She heard a tiny sound and froze, but it didn’t happen again. She resumed her slow-motion creep down the steps.
She let herself into the electrical room and from there used Emma’s backdoor key into the apartment. She opened the door just a crack, and when she realized the back kitchen was dark, she stepped in and shut the door behind her. She was in Emma’s apartment, which she knew very well.
She sidled up to the hallway door and listened. She heard the sound of flesh meeting flesh and a stifled whimper.
“I just want my property back,” a smarmy voice said in a fake reasonable tone. Iselle didn’t know that voice. “I get what I want, then I leave and you can go back to your boring life. I don’t get what I want, then I go upstairs to visit your friend. The choice is yours.”
“No, leave her alone,” said Emma, and her voice wobbled at the end. “I told you, the chair is gone. We loaded up her car and sent everything from that pigsty to the dump.”
The man laughed nastily.
“Xander, don’t you keep a clean house?”
“Yeah, of course,” Xander said, but his laugh sounded forced. Iselle wondered if he was nervous.
The sound of a slap reverberated.
“Uh, Richie, maybe we should go,” Xander said.
Iselle frowned. She didn’t know the man well, but it seemed like he was scared of something.
Emma whimpered and Iselle shuddered at how weak Emma sounded. Normally, Emma’s voice reflected her high energy level. Nothing could get Emma down.
Her teeth ground together in fury and she tasted blood. She must have nipped her tongue by accident. What had they done to Emma?
Chapter 18
Balke raced up the stairs, the scent of drugs and fear burning in his nostrils. He paused for a bare second to look in Emma’s window, then leaped straight through the glass, knowledge and adrenaline blasting through his veins so that his body changed between one second and the next, claws extending as fur rippled over roped muscle.
Balke smashed full force into the first man’s sternum, disabling him in one breath. He heard his brother Egan’s howl behind him even as he used the falling body as a springboard to launch himself into the air. Just as a shot rang out, lethal jaws clamped around the wrist of the second man, who dropped his gun with a hissing scream.
The cowering Xander he left for his brother or Kuhr.
Balke sensed Iselle’s presence and looked up as the bones held in his mouth snapped. It shocked him to see her struggling with a man twice her size. Rage flashed through him in a feral wave, but he w
as fighting his own opponent and couldn’t get to her.
She screamed and grabbed for a better hold.
She had courage, more courage than sense. She was biting her lip and the look on her face was so fierce as she fought that his cock jumped in unwilling arousal.
In the middle of a pitched battle, bleeding from a bullet wound, he was hard for her. If his Cadre brothers got a good view of that, he would never hear the end of it. The damned woman made him crazy.
The large man backhanded Iselle and her head snapped back on her delicate neck.
Balke hammered a fist into the face of his adversary and dropped him like a stone.
Balke had fought many times in defense of his people and his life. In spite of his experiences, he was largely unfamiliar with fear. So the terror that swamped him when he saw his fragile human mate grappling with a man double her size struck him like a hammer blow to the heart.
A moment later, he halted from a dead run to stare at his mate when she raised her head and howled and tore her attacker’s face open with bright white claws.
His jaw dropped in awe.
His mate had claws and tiny fangs. He was drawn out of his blank admiration by the continuing battle around him, but as much as he wanted to protect, he didn’t make the mistake of stealing Iselle’s prey. She was growling and looked very serious about finishing that man herself.
He was close enough to dispatch the man if need be, but he didn’t think his mate would be happy if he stepped in. She had her man on the floor.
Egan dispatched the last man beside Emma, and Balke slashed through the ropes holding her with razor sharp claws. Kuhr was there to catch her as she fell off the chair where she had been tied. The poor woman’s shirt had been torn off, exposing her bra and slender torso. She had one swollen black eye and bruises and cigarette burns all over her breasts and arms.
Balke had to swallow hard to suppress the urge to kill. He couldn’t believe what some human males would do to females. And Emma was so small.
“Emma, Emma,” Iselle crooned as she helped Kuhr lower her friend to the floor. “Oh, honey, look what they did. They hurt you.” Her voice lisped a little around her new fangs, but Balke didn’t think she noticed. She was focused on her friend.
Iselle’s claws had retracted until they just looked like somewhat longer fingernails, but she didn’t seem to perceive them, either. Balke didn’t mention it.
He was trying to get his own claws to subside, but the continued presence of the human attackers and the scent of drugs and fear that rose off their skin insulted him and kept his wolf on the edge of murder. He wanted to tear out their throats and swallow the gushing blood of his enemies. He was that far gone.
“Calm down, my brother,” Egan murmured as he walked by. Egan would be able to feel his wolf ascending.
“I am always calm,” Balke said, but he could feel his fangs protruding even as he said it.
Egan snorted at Balke’s barefaced lie, but said nothing. Balke had always known that his family was special, but he had never been more grateful for that unconditional support than he was tonight.
Ives looked from Balke to Kuhr, whose claws were curled protectively around Emma’s upper arms as he cradled her to his broad chest.
“You need to calm down, too,” Ives said to Kuhr, “the cops are on their way.”
The other warrior bared his fangs and pulled Emma closer to the shelter of his heart. She moaned, but settled quickly with her face pressed against the warrior’s wide chest. Her fingers curled into his shirt.
Ives threw his arms up in a gesture of surrender.
“As my mate would say, ‘Fine.’”
Balke grinned around his fangs. Ives made the word “fine” sound like a threat and at the same time a terrible insult, just the way Balke had heard Ives’s mate Maressa say it.
Balke looked at the way Kuhr was holding Emma, and understood Ives’s concern. He frowned at his friend.
Kuhr was a superior warrior, walking through battles with a blank face or sometimes if the fighting was fierce, a cool smile touching his mouth. But Balke had never known him to show interest in a female before. It was unusual to say the least.
Oh, the females fawned over him and his brother. All the Valcov men were good looking and favored by the ladies, vulfen and human, but Kuhr had never shown any marked interest in anyone. To see him holding Emma’s unconscious, battered body with such tenderness, eyes glowing electric blue and fangs fully dropped as he petted her soft cheek, was more than a shock.
Balke turned away as a siren wailed to a stop and walked outside to meet John and Harden.
Chapter 19
“Those boys from the dock stank of lust and stupidity. John and Harden took time this morning from their suspect interviews in the drug investigation and had a little chat with them. John has been busy this past week.”
Iselle almost laughed. “Well, I couldn’t smell the boys, but that’s basically my opinion, too. I think that one kid believes he’s a gift to women. He thought he was really impressing me.”
“If he is going to impress women, he should cultivate some manners. And his pants were falling down. John said his mother was infuriated at having to speak to the police. He may be grounded for the rest of his natural life.”
Balke’s teeth clicked together in annoyance.
Iselle giggled. “His poor mother. He wouldn’t be bad-looking, but as you say, his pants were falling down.” She giggled again. “I know it’s all the rage to have your pants halfway down, but it doesn’t do a thing for me.”
Balke’s eyes lit with an unholy glee.
“It was even better when they were sopping wet. He had to hold them up with both hands.”
“Not better, worse. Definitely worse.” She was trying to keep her control, but the image was stuck in her head, and Balke’s wicked grin made her laugh, too.
“And he was looking at my wife in a way I did not like.”
“Wife?!”
“I mated you. We are married in the eyes of my people.”
“Married?! You bit me. We’re not married.”
Iselle stood up, agitated. She wasn’t married, she was quite sure about that.
“We are.”
“Biting me isn’t the same as flowers and a ring, buddy. Maybe wolves don’t get that, but I’m human, and I’m not getting married until I get a proposal, and I mean a good one. And I want my stepdad to walk me down the aisle, and I want a white gown and a guy in a tux. That’s how it’s done.” Her voice was rising, but she couldn’t seem to stop. “And another thing, since I am human, you can’t just tell me that I’m married. Human women have the right to choose and men have to respect that.”
Balke straightened.
“Choose, then.” His voice was cold like his eyes. “Make your choice and I will respect it. Choose me, or choose to leave me. Choose right now what our lives will be.”
Iselle shivered. Her throat ached and she couldn’t say a word. She didn’t like the way this was going, but she didn’t know how to stop once she had started.
“Choose.”
Iselle cleared her throat painfully. She wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, now that his full attention was centered on her. But if they were going to fight, they should probably get it all out of the way at once.
“I’m flying to London,” she said. “To paint. My flight leaves Friday night.”
He stood up, on full alert, eyes glowing a brilliant green.
“I planned the trip months ago when I didn’t even know you,” she rushed to say, nerves getting the better of her. “I’ll be back in two weeks, and this doesn’t mean it’s over. I don’t want you to think that.”
“I mated you. It is not over,” he said.
“That’s what I’m saying. It’s not an ending for us, and I’ll only be gone two weeks, and then I’ll be right back here, and we can finish our fight.”
Balke took two long strides, towering over her so that in her nervousness, she stood
, too. He grabbed her upper arms.
“I will clear my schedule,” he said, every word ground out between his teeth and fangs.
When she shook her head to clear it, his eyes blazed and he pulled her in for a kiss of blatant possession. When he finally raised his head, she was dazed and clinging to him so that she wouldn’t fall.
“I will accompany my mate, my wife to London for our honeymoon,” he said, and the heat in his voice alarmed and thrilled her. “I mated you, but that does not satisfy your natural human dreams of a wedding, does it?”
Iselle blinked. How did he know that? She hadn’t even known it herself until he said it. And it was true, but she didn’t want him to be her husband if he didn’t want to be. She didn’t want to insult his traditions, even though a part of her felt he was insulting hers.
“You don’t have to marry me just because I’m going to London.” She forced the words out around the huge lump in her throat. “I was planning on coming back to you at the end of the trip.”
Balke smiled that slow smile that always made her heart leap.
“I have to marry you.” He hushed her protest. “I have to marry you because of this.”
He pulled her hand to his chest to cover his heart. The steady throb both soothed and excited her.
“I have to marry you because of this.”
He snuggled her hips up against his so that she could clearly feel his hard cock pressing aggressively against her soft belly.
Her body melted into his.
“I have to marry you because you are the woman I have searched for all my life without knowing it. I have to marry you.”
The tears she had been fighting slid down her cheeks.
He nuzzled her vulnerable throat.
“What is your answer?”
His mouth moved down over her throat and settled on the place where throat met shoulder, the place where he kept biting her. The sensation of his agile tongue on that incredibly sensitive spot set her mind whirling.