Jack padded closer, nudging her shoulder with his muzzle. She ran her fingers through his silvery fur, the residual breeze drying her cold tears. “Did you see?”
“Yeah. Thanks for leaving the channel open. Poor guy. Almost makes me sorry for him,” he sighed across her mind.
“I know what you mean.”
“Your coat’s ruined.”
“Wicked ruined,” she said, mimicking his Maine accent. “Sorry about your clothes.”
Jack chuffed at the torn pieces of fabric blown all over the sidewalk and the street. “Yeah, well. All in a day’s work, but at least I saved the Jacket and tie.”
“That you did,” she said, a wiping the wet soot from her face with the back of her hand.
Come on, I’ll let you walk me home.”
“No leash?”
“Hey…don’t push it,” he lifted his muzzle and looked at her with his dark, silver-rimmed eyes. “You do realize all bets are off. You need to call Sean when we get home.”
“I know,” she answered softly, picking up the bloodied jacket and giving it a good shake, biting the inside of her cheek trying not to cry.
“Jesus, Lil’, if you’re going to continue in this kind of work, you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve. What happened to that boy had nothing to do with you, but because of you, hopefully something good will come of it.”
“One can only hope,” she said with a sigh, refolding her coat before squatting to reach for her purse.
“I’m serious, and you’d better think about it before you call Sean. He hears that tone in your voice and he’s going to go ape shit. A shot of Jamison’s and a hot shower will help put things in perspective. I’ll even pour.”
She smiled, pulling at his fur. “Hair of the dog, huh?”
“Ayuh.”
Chuckling, she put her hands on her knees, and pushed herself to standing. “Okay then, Fido, let’s go home.”
Chapter Nine
***
From dense cover, Rafe Miller studied the big wolf as he paced frantically just outside the forest. The wolf’s body language spoke volumes, or at least it did to the tracker’s trained eye. The animal was tense, distracted, and the tracker chuckled, watching and waiting.
“Like a caged beast,” he mused. But it didn’t take much skill to guess why. The wolf’s obvious distress had everything to do with the full moon riding high in the night sky, but Miller’s calculated guess was that it had more to do with the human girl highlighted in the dossier Edward Parr had given him. This particular wolf was the Alpha of the much-scrutinized experimental compound of Weres, and Parr wanted him watched.
Miller had earned the nickname cat’s eye for his expertise in surveillance. He was a rare breed, even as a half-blood. As unusual as it was for a Were Cougar to breed outside its kind, it was even more unusual for half-blood offspring to inherit full-blooded traits. The tracker took full advantage of the anomaly, using it to add to his mystique.
In the Pacific Northwest, cougars were the ghost walkers of American folklore, secretive and rarely seen. Miller was the best in the country when it came to keeping secrets and keeping tabs, and for some reason, Parr wanted him to keep a close eye on Leighton.
Camouflaged, the cat’s sandy brown fur blended perfectly against the weather worn bark of the fallen trees surrounding him. In cougar form, Miller took full advantage of his feline nature, its sharp nocturnal vision and acute hearing.
Surprisingly, he’d been able to track the large wolf without detection, and though he would love to claim his expertise, the fact was, a wolf’s sense of smell was just as keen as a cat, a detail that made this situation remarkably telling.
Slinking through the scrub, he followed his gut instinct as well as the Alpha wolf. The night was freezing. But, orders were orders, and Parr was willing to pay extra for this kind of surveillance. He also promised a huge bonus if Miller seized the opportunity to dispose of Leighton, should the chance present itself. No questions asked.
There could be no dirt on the politician’s lily-white hands. The big cat hissed quietly. Lily. That was the name of the human causing all the problems. Not that he cared one way or the other. A job was a job, and from the look of things, she had the Alpha so torqued it was going to make this an easy kill. I’ll have his throat ripped out before he even knows I’m here.
Nose up, the cougar sniffed the bitter cold air and took off. Keeping low to the ground, he kept his distance from the wolf and his mind on the payoff. He couldn’t care less about the reasons behind the job. Parr would pay through the nose for his services, of that he’d make sure. The politician was a fraud, despite his polished appearance, and the cat saw through his carefully cultivated pretense. He wasn’t to be trusted. Lifting his face to the full moon, the sandy gray feline smiled like a Cheshire cat. Fuck with me, expect to get clawed.
The cougar stayed downwind of the wolf. Over the years, he’d learned to neither anticipate nor underestimate his prey. As a tracker, he’d been lucky. Of course, size and his natural feline abilities added to his success, but in all his years as a mercenary, Miller had never tracked anything like the wolf he hunted now. The animal was completely absorbed. It was obvious the wolf was in hunting mode, but his scent told the tracker it was rage, not hunger that drove him.
The wolf stopped, sniffing the air and circling. The large canine had caught the scent of something close. Something that didn’t belong in these woods. Something big.
Instinct and hundreds of kills told the tracker to hang back. This wasn’t going to be a pretty kill. Scenting an abandoned fox den, the cougar hunkered down in the brambles. The fox’s scent would mask his for the time being, giving him time to maneuver.
The wolf’s hackles rose, the dark, course hair bristling along its spine. A low growl had left his throat before he took off, launching himself through the trees. This was no play for power; the wolf was purposeful, and he was looking for a fight.
Miller followed. Picking up speed, he circled around, using his keen sight to gain ground. This was it. Climbing to the low hanging branches of a bare oak, he crouched, waiting for the wolf to pass. The cougar’s nose twitched. He was close enough to smell the musk from the wolf’s fur, sense the heat from the canine’s body and the vibration of his rage and bloodlust coursing through the air. This was going to be one hell of a fight, and the big cat’s mouth watered in anticipation.
***
The moon was full. One more day and his craving for her would be unbearable. Lily had been gone a little less than a week. Sean raised his muzzle to the air and whined. He’d been so concerned about protecting her from the frenzy inherent in a Were’s need to race the moon, he never considered what marking her held in store for him.
Sean knew Parr was biding his time, hedging bets the alpha would abdicate. The wolf growled. Marking Lily was a double-edged sword, and a decision that played right into Parr’s hand.
How could he have been so thoughtless? Every Were understood what marking a mate demanded. Sean’s inner wolf would never yield to the constraints, and the more time that passed, the more insistent his frustration would grow. The wolf’s physical need to mate with his chosen partner would drive him crazy.
He and Lily had barely kept in touch through their shared mind link, choosing instead to communicate through neutral territory, namely, Jack. Deep down, they both knew how exhausting it would be, but for Sean, the torment was exquisite, knowing his need would only intensify as their separation moved from days into weeks. It was like living in a long distance relationship with someone close enough to touch.
Hunting was the only thing that kept the relentless longing at bay. He spent most of his time as a wolf, except for those duties that required him to be present in his human form. Sean reveled in the sheer animalistic pleasure of it—the feel of the earth beneath his paws, the natural scents and sounds of the forest—and what better way to patrol the Compound’s perimeter?
The wind was high tonight, and he r
eached out to Lily, hoping the feel would be as exhilarating for her, but he found her mind jammed up, almost on overload.
Sean sensed it the minute he touched their link, mental alarms buzzing in his head like a swarm of bees. A quick link to Jack told him it was nothing more than just Lily being Lily, and a rush of edgy relief exhaled past his lips. He should have known she would plunge herself into work the minute she got back; meanwhile, intense need coursed through his aching body, the current burning a path across every nerve ending with each passing hour. The wolf chuffed, scraping the frozen ground with its paws. The full moon couldn’t wane fast enough.
He sent a howl full of frustration roaring over the wind, piercing the night like a dagger. Animals, large and small, took off in all directions at the sound, and Sean raced toward the deep woods in a frenzy of violence and unspent passion.
The wolf was pure alpha, his thoughts frenetic. The words, Hunt… Blood…Kill, rose in a wild frenzy from within. The diverse scents from the forest—fox, deer, even otter, mingled together making his mouth water, but none of them would suffice. He wanted something big. A black bear or even a stray grizzly. Something that would fight back.
He caught the scent of bear as he raced, but another scent lingered on the air, overpowering it. It was subtle, as if purposefully camouflaged, but still strong enough to catch the wolf’s attention. With his muzzle to the sky, he inhaled again, but couldn’t place the smell.
Unsure, the wolf postured, readying himself. Whatever was skulking in the shadows was his for the taking. Hackles up, the wolf’s black lips curled back, exposing his fangs in full attack arousal.
Without warning, the air stilled. The wolf turned, his nostrils flaring as the largest cat he’d ever seen climbed silently down from the branches adjacent to where he stood. Cougar. But what the hell was it doing this far east? Mountain lions did not make their homes in New York. In fact, they were considered an extirpated species.
The wolf’s eyes followed the animal, and it jumped from the tree trunk to the ground. Hissing, it paced back and forth, its expression calculating and intelligent. So close, the wolf breathed in, tasting the big cat’s scent. This was no stray venturing too far from its environs. Nor was it some random happenstance. This cat was a Were, and someone had sent for it.
Legs splayed, the wolf lowered his head, snapping and growling in a teeth-baring grimace. “Who sent you? Why are you here?” Sean tried the common telepathic path shared by most Weres. One warning—that was all he’d give. He was in no mood to be civil.
The large cat snarled and hissed but didn’t answer. Its curved, razor sharp claws scored the frozen earth like butter as it moved fluidly from side to side, advancing slowly.
In its animal state, the cat couldn’t bar Sean from breaching the mental walls surrounding its most recent human interaction. Images, clipped and disordered, answered the Alpha’s question, and the cat snarled a feline “fuck you” in reply.
The wolf’s mammoth black shape flew through the air as he launched himself at the mountain lion. Driving it back toward the tree, the huge wolf ripped and tore at the sandy brown cat, locking his jaws around its hind leg. Bones crunched. The cat screamed, the shrill sound penetrating the silent forest. It twisted around; its movements fluid and graceful, even through the pain, and with a high-pitched screech, it landed a vicious swipe across the wolf’s muzzle. Sean coughed out a yelp, releasing his hold.
Breathing hard, they jerked apart, separate but still circling, shadowing each other’s stances. The cougar coiled and lunged, its front paws hitting the wolf in the chest, knocking him backward. With a terrifying growl, it bit down on the wolf’s shoulder, ripping through bone and muscle. But the wolf countered, twisting its body out from under the cat’s heavy paws.
Panting, the wolf shook itself, splattering blood across the cold ground, causing tiny tendrils of steam to rise from the frost-covered earth. Growling and snapping, the wolf charged again, grabbing the cat by the throat. Ignoring the deep slashes the cat’s claws sliced across his flesh, the two locked together in a deadly dance. Blood stained the earth, mixing with dirt and leaves as it dripped from both animals.
Yanking himself free, the wolf raised his head and howled. The cat’s head jerked to the north at the long, low-pitched sound. The pack was coming. With one final lunge, the wolf sank its teeth into the distracted animal’s throat. The large cat spasmed once, its body falling silent. The wolf released the cat’s throat. The sleek body, silver in the moonlight, slowly transformed back to its human state. The wolf howled once more, the urgent modulation letting the pack know it was over.
He backed up and sat on his haunches to wait. The answering chorus followed by the sound of paws hitting the earth echoed louder as they neared. Steam rose from the blood cooling on the snow and the lifeless body at the center of it all. One by one, the wolves passed through the trees to the clearing. The black wolf yipped, and in a snap of bone and electricity, phased back to human form.
The others followed suit, and within moments, four men stood naked and pumped in the cold wind alongside their Alpha.
“What the hell?” Mitch said circling the pale body lying in the snow. “He smells like a cat, but it’s hard to tell what kind with all the blood and musk from the fight. Probably bobcat.”
“Cougar,” Sean said.
“Cougar? As in Mountain Lion?”
Sean raised an eyebrow. “I just fought the animal, Mitch, what do you think?”
Mitch whistled low. “Big cats like those don’t usually venture this far east. What the hell was he doing in our backyard?”
“It was a hit.”
Four sets of eyes turned toward Sean. “A hit? As in assassination attempt?”
“Are you planning to question everything I say tonight?” Sean eyed his second.
Mitch grinned. “Sorry. I just don’t get it. Who’s got a beef with you so big they’d risk hiring an assassin?”
Sean’s eyes met his. “I’ll give you one guess.”
His second in command’s eyes hardened. “Just say the word and he’s a dead man.”
“No. I want blood as much as you do, but this requires finesse or it’ll end up spin-doctored, and we won’t be able to touch him. Just take the body back to the manor. Don’t let anyone see you. I know what I need to do, so just be ready.”
***
Sean kicked in the door to the war room, flanked by Mitch and another of his hunters, the tracker’s lifeless body wrapped in a blanket and slung over his shoulder. “Good evening, gentlemen. How apropos I find so many of you here, and in such good company,” he said, letting the venom drip from his voice.
Almost half the council sat around the fire blazing in the large stone hearth, Edward Parr center stage as usual.
“What’s the meaning of this, Leighton?” Ross Stanton asked, pushing himself up from his seat. The colorfully embroidered crest of the Avian Weres was visible on his shirt pocket.
“Do you want to tell them, or should I?” Sean asked, directing the question openly to Parr.
“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” the older man answered, his face a mask of nonchalance.
“Hmmm. How about assassination? How’s that grab you?”
A collective gasp reverberated off the surrounding walls, all eyes turning toward Edward Parr. “This is ridiculous. How dare you barge in here and hurl accusations at me? Where’s your proof?” Parr shot back with a dismissive wave.
Sean dropped the dead body at Parr’s feet. “There’s all the proof I need.”
Except for the crackling of the fire, the room was silent. Mitch took a step forward and rolled the body over with a muffled thud. Uncertainty buzzed around the room, but Sean’s gaze never wavered as he watched Edward’s face.
The man was unperturbed, his expression a mask of complete indifference. “Rubbish. He could be anyone,” Parr stated, his Cheshire cat smile cemented in place and his tone as smooth as silk.
Howev
er, after spending so much time in wolf form, Sean didn’t miss the underlying tang of unease coming from the man, despite his apparent lack of concern.
As if he sensed it, Parr lifted his eyes to Sean, his gaze calculating. “And how convenient for you that he’s dead. Now no one can question him.”
Sean crossed his arms in front of his chest, his gaze still locked on Parr. “He was a tracker. An assassin, known in certain circles by the name of Cat’s Eye. Perhaps you’ve heard of him, considering he hails from the Pacific Northwest, not far from where you originally came from, Edward.”
“Sean, surely you’re not accusing Edward of such a heinous crime? It’s unthinkable…”
Sean put up his hand. “Don’t waste your breath, Stanton. I was in the tracker’s head as we fought. I saw everything. But as Edward has so opportunely pointed out, it’s too late to question him, although you’re all welcome to see for yourselves,” he said tapping the side of his head. “Those of you gifted with telepathic ability are more than welcome to the instant replay.”
No one moved, but furtive glances rounded the circle, making it clear to Sean and his hunters that Parr hadn’t acted alone.
Sean frowned. He reached into his jacket and pulled out a set of falconer’s gloves, the same set given to him when he had accepted the call to be Alpha. Smacking them across his palm, he then threw one of the wide leather gauntlets to the floor between Parr and the dead tracker—the Alpha’s crest emblazoned clearly on the cuff for all to see.
“All bets are off. As the Alpha of the Brethren, I hereby dissolve this council and retain complete rule by right of blood. I also claim Lily Saburi as my chosen mate. She is, by my decree, the Alpha Female. By clan law, anyone who brings harm to her, dies.”
“Leighton! You have no right!” Ross Stanton shouted over the din of the other council members.
Sean turned toward him. “Oh, yes I do, Stanton. I have every right, given to me by each of the clans when they gave me their blood and their oath. The diplomacy we shared was by choice—my choice. You and the rest of your cronies abused my trust and my loyalty. It is, therefore, now my choice to rescind that diplomacy, and reassert my sovereign right as Alpha.”
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