Seduced by Him

by Jacey Holbrand

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2017 Jacey Holbrand

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-393-3

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: CA Clauson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my partner: As always, thank you for believing in me. Love you, babe!

  To my friend and a wonderful author in her own right, Elizabeth Monvey: Thank you for your friendship and your valuable advice.

  And last but not least, to my editor, Carrie, thank you for helping to polish this story.

  You all rock!

  SEDUCED BY HIM

  Helldorado Mongrels, 2

  Jacey Holbrand

  Copyright © 2017

  Chapter One

  “Blood! Blood! Blood!”

  The gang’s frenetic chanting echoed off the mountains surrounding the canyon. People pushed toward the perimeter of the fighting ring created from thin rustic wood logs. Vertical pieces were supported by others in the shape of an X. The sparring boundary had been quickly erected the night before, and like all the other times it’d been assembled when needed, it wasn’t the sturdiest. In their haste, the men hadn’t pounded the ends of the Xs into the ground very far. Not like anything could be stuck securely into the cement-like Nevada dirt without the proper tools and time.

  Dante “Tex” Valentin looked at the poles nestled in the Vs of the Xs. They weren’t roped down.

  Easily accessible. Too handy.

  No doubt the combatants would each grab a log from the barricade and use it as a weapon in hopes of getting the upper hand at some point.

  I’d sure use anything at my disposal. He let out a short grunt-slash-chuckle sound. Then again, I have. This time all Tex cared about was that it wasn’t him on the other side of the fence beating the shit out of one of his Helldorado Mongrels brothers.

  Been there. Done that. Bored with that activity, he thought with apathy. Seemed like nothing exciting happened in the godforsaken, hot desert wasteland anymore. Just the same ol’ shit day in and day out … drinking, fornicating, stealing, killing, riding, fighting, then repeat.

  Except for the past few days.

  A horn sounded. The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer and surged in a frenzied mass. Tex no longer could hear himself think. People pressed into the gaps around him. He fought his way out of the sea of bodies to put some distance between himself, the group, and the ring.

  The whole scene reminded him of gladiator movies. Crazy crowds. Tyrannical leaders. Men in loin cloths battling with their sheer brawn. Soon he’d witness something like in the movies in the compound’s ring.

  “Tex, where you think you goin’?”

  A beefy hand came down on top of Tex’s shoulder. “Nowhere, Thumbs. Don’t want to feel like a sardine today. That’s all.” Unlike everyone around him, he wasn’t thrilled about watching the upcoming event. Something he’d been scenting on the wind had been unsettling him. For the life of him he couldn’t figure out what it was, and with his mind otherwise occupied, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy what was about to happen.

  “All right, Tex. Don’t want you in no trouble ’gain.”

  He nodded. The club’s mechanic, Thumbs, was a big man, very muscular and dark haired. A mix of Shinan wolves and feral dogs in his ancestry, he happened to be one of the better mutts in the gang. Thumbs, who also happened to be his best friend, had a heart of gold, and he appreciated how Thumbs cared about his wellbeing.

  “No worries here, Thumbs. I know not to leave until the fight’s done.”

  But then, if I left, that would piss off Inferno. I’d be subjected to a fight in the ring for breaking a rule. Again. Though that happening would jazz up his life a bit, fighting wasn’t something he wanted to do any time soon. His ribs still didn’t feel quite right from when he’d fought a couple weeks ago.

  “You okay, Tex?”

  Tex patted Thumbs on the back. “Right as rain. Just restless.”

  Thumbs smiled and nodded as if he understood. Tex wondered if he actually did. Though great with machines, Thumbs usually came off as not having a whole lot of smarts when it came to the subtleties of life. But there were instances when Thumbs seemed more astute than ten of the most intelligent club members put together.

  It was during those moments Tex couldn’t help but see Thumbs for the truly wonderful man he was and not just a simpleton wrench turner.

  A second horn blasted, and everyone fell silent.

  The club president, Inferno, stepped into the empty ring. Sunlight glinted off his greased down, shoulder length black hair. Aviator sunglasses concealed his mahogany-colored eyes. “Thank you all for being here!”

  “Not like we had a choice,” Tex mumbled under his breath and received a nudge from Thumbs. He hadn’t realized he’d said it loud enough for anyone to hear and bobbed his head once to acknowledge the mechanic.

  Inferno tended to rule the club like a dictator. He wanted loyalty and no attitude. Attendance at disciplinary hearings was mandatory for all Helldorado Mongrels. Missing a forum was cause to be sent into the ring.

  “As you all know,” Inferno shouted, “justice in our pack is swift and efficient. It’s been less than eighteen hours since the grievous offense has occurred and now we will see reparation. Because Kane couldn’t do what needed to be done for the Shinan wolves in regard to Tabu wolf Gabe Dyson, Kane has to fight to keep his place in the Helldorado Mongrels.”

  Another round of chants for blood filled the air. Inferno held up his arms for quiet.

  Once the gang settled, Inferno continued, “Kane brought the Tabu’s pup to the ’pound before part of the gang, which included yours truly, had returned from a ride and while others were heavy into a party. Did he throw the pup into our dungeon? No. He left the pup in the garage and joined the party himself. Had he instructed anyone to be on guard? No. This led to Gabe coming into our ’pound with ease and overpowering the few who’d still had their wits about them. But what did Kane do? Did he stay and fight? No! He ran and hid with his tail between his legs. He’d even had the gall to brag that he’d be the next alpha by first taking over Hannibal’s position, then mine.”

  Boos echoed across the landscape.

  Once more, Inferno held his arms up. “In light of the charges of insubordination, treachery and incompetency, Kane will battle my choice of opponent, our lead enforcer, Preach. They will fight in human form, wolf form, or combinations of either. And since they are of the same Shinan wolf breed, the fight will be to the death.”

  The crowd cheered again.

  Thumbs shook his head. “I feel bad for Kane. Havin’ to fight Preach. Kane will surely die. An’ all he wanted was to make Inferno proud and be his VP.”

  “Yep,” Tex replied with a nod. Preach was well trained and highly skilled in all combat arts and got his nickname because he’d once said he liked to preach not with his mouth but with his fists.

  Kane didn’t stand a chance.

  And all because the Shinan wolves didn’t like their Tabu wolf cousins or the Tabus’ love interests.

  The flesh of Tex’s back rippled. His breath caught in his throat and for a moment he couldn’t breathe. Hating the anxious feelings that’d been plaguing him lately, he calmed his mind and waited the few seconds fo
r the sensations to end. When they did, he breathed deep.

  He caught several smells on the slight breeze and felt like he ran full force into a brick wall of realization. His uneasiness of late was because of the Tabu and who he was with … sort of. It was more of who they were connected to within that tour group.

  Sniffing the air again, he closed his eyes. Ground corn, roses, chili-peppers and an open fire for cooking. He loved those scents. They reminded him of his abuela.

  The aromas put his inner beast into heat.

  Once more the brick wall slapped him out of nowhere, and he finally grasped the full weight of the matter.

  He’d been scenting his mate.

  “There they are,” Thumbs stated, jolting Tex out of his thoughts. He pointed at Kane and Preach stepping into the ring.

  Both shirtless and in tight fitting jeans, Kane and Preach walked toward Inferno. Preach towered over Kane by at least a foot and his shoulders were about twice the width of Kane’s. The pair almost reminded Tex of the biblical story of the boy and the giant, that is if the giant had a blond-haired buzz cut and the boy looked like a Native American.

  “All right, maggots. You know the rules.” Inferno grinned. It was a sinister expression and no mirthful light reached his glowing red eyes. “There are no rules. And this match? It’s to the death!” The president jogged out of the ring.

  Tex had to admit Kane put up a good showing for the first several minutes, bobbing and weaving away from Preach and his punches. Both men shifted their hands to paws with sharp claws and faces into snouts with razor-like teeth. Depending upon their position and mode of attack, they swiped at each other, bit into fur and skin or wrestled and threw punches.

  More minutes passed. Kane and Preach both appeared to ignore the blood and sweat dripping down into their eyes and streaking their cheeks and necks. As the battle progressed, Kane’s panting intensified. He paused. Who knew what was going through the man’s mind to make such a stupid mistake even though he probably needed to catch his breath.

  Preach seized the opportunity. He scooped up dirt and threw it into Kane’s face.

  Kane screamed and rubbed at his eyes, most likely trying to see again. With Kane subdued, Preach ran to the fence, grabbed a vertical log and then when he reached Kane, he swung the weapon like a baseball bat, nailing Kane in the side. Kane dropped to the ground, wailing in agony.

  Once more, Preach used the advantage. Quickly, his arm sprouted long white-blond hair, joints popped and cracked and his fingers elongated into black, curved claws. He delivered a second devastating blow to Kane—deep gashes to the torso.

  As Kane writhed in bloody mud pools, Preach leaned over and lifted the injured man. He took Kane over to one of the more pointed, sharper looking Xs, and raised him above his head.

  Tears streamed down Kane’s face. “Preach, please, man. We’re cousins. We’re brothers. Don’t… Don’t do it.”

  Preach’s arms sagged, and as he lowered Kane, he glanced over his shoulder.

  “Do it,” Inferno commanded.

  “No!” Kane screamed, appearing to gather his last bit of strength and attempt to wriggle out of Preach’s hold.

  With a slight nod, Preach lifted Kane then slammed him down on the fence. The stake slid through Kane’s body like a toothpick through softened butter.

  The gathering went crazy. The deafening roar of cheers and shouts went on for what seemed like forever. Preach circled the area within the ring, waving his arms up and down in an attempt to elicit more noise from the spectators. He pumped his fist above his head in celebration. Crimson dots and streaks splattered Preach’s chest, face and head.

  The crowd’s excitement grated on Tex. Didn’t these people feel anything for a fallen comrade? Especially those related to the deceased? How could Preach be happy about a death of a family member?

  Two short and quick horn blasts signaled everyone’s dismissal.

  Tex turned to head back to the clubhouse and grab a beer. The fight hadn’t perked up his mood. He had to do something to shake his disquiet.

  Maybe I’ll go hold up a store.

  Thumbs hurried to his side. “You sure you fine? You don’t seem fine. You know if you fight you never die. You not related to anyone here.”

  “That’s true,” Tex replied. He hadn’t been a miner’s dog or a feral one. He wasn’t a Shinan wolf. He was from a Nagul shifter line and had traveled to Nevada, back in the gold and silver rush days, to find his fortune. He’d just happened to have been in wrong place at wrong time and got cursed with the rest of the poor animal souls in the area. Yet like Thumbs reminded him, it was a good thing. No one here could murder him since only immortals of the same breed could kill each other. Like Kane and Preach both being from the Shinan bloodline.

  Unless, of course, it was Tabu wolf against Shinan wolf. They could do each other in without blinking.

  Maybe that was it. He missed having family nearby, actual family, not brothers made so because of some club. Perhaps it was time to escape the ’pound and return to Texas.

  That didn’t feel right either, though. He hadn’t given his family much thought in over a century. Why would he care now?

  Besides, like it or not, the moment that crazy renegade Native American, Queho, had uttered his spell, Tex had become a member of the El Dorado canyon pack, and even though the gang drove him nuts sometimes, he wouldn’t give them up for the world. The thought of losing connection to a group again, family or not, distressed him.

  He shook his head. “I assure you, Thumbs, I’m good. Just something in the air bothering me.”

  “Must have allergies. Come to garage. You help me with bikes. Air in there stinky. You’ll feel better.”

  Tex followed Thumbs, thinking that tinkering on some engines couldn’t hurt and might even help get his mind off his uneasiness about what he’d been scenting on the breeze. Plus, it’d keep him out of trouble, like robbing a store.

  The fragrance, reminding him of home cooked meals, brought up memories of happy times filled with laughter and love in the house with his mother and grandmother and other family members.

  He’d always heard stories about wolf shifters discovering their mates due to scents they enjoy, but he didn’t believe he’d ever experience the phenomenon.

  And the fact that he’d picked up on his mate?

  It made his inner animal stir with sexual desire again.

  Maybe his life was about to get interesting after all.

  Chapter Two

  I should kick myself.

  “Pardon?”

  Jarrod Russell glanced at Emma Dyson, a perky, petite blond, sitting next to him on a boulder not far from the campsite. A tour guide along with her brother, Gabe, Emma came off as a bit of a scatterbrain, but once Jarrod got used to her energy and way of working, he realized she was a nice woman, strong, feisty and intelligent.

  Something about her drew her to him, a sense like they were the best of friends and had known each other for a lifetime. There’d been a moment in the beginning of the camping trip when he’d considered hooking up with her, but the whole friend-sister vibe soon quashed that thought.

  “Sorry,” he replied. “Didn’t realize I said that out loud.” He looked back at the camper trailer hitched to Gabe’s pickup truck. Pointing his chin in the vehicle’s direction, he continued, “I can’t help but think I made a mistake dragging Cameron on this trip. I thought it’d be a good idea—for a couple of different reasons—to return to the canyon, but if we hadn’t come, my brother wouldn’t have been kidnapped.”

  Seeming deep in thought, Emma bobbed her head once. “That might be true, but at least you two were here. Kane probably would have found another way at another time to go after your brother and mine and would have succeeded in killing Cameron at some point. Plus, if you hadn’t been here, Cameron wouldn’t have met my brother. He definitely wouldn’t be safe from the Mongrels like he is now.” She tilted her head and smiled as she glanced toward the vehicles. “The tw
o of them seem to be enjoying each other’s company.”

  “You aren’t kidding.” Jarrod chuckled.

  After Cameron and Gabe had returned to the campsite, Gabe had assured the whole group everything was fine and that Kane had decided not to return. Confident everyone was safe and the trip would continue as planned, the other two couples went on a hike. Gabe and Cameron had then taken him and Emma to the side and explained what had happened.

  Kane had taken Cameron on a hike so he could abduct him. Having succeeded, Kane had brought Cameron to a place called the ’pound. “It’s actually a defunct town that the Helldorado Mongrels motorcycle club has made into their compound,” Gabe had offered. “I think the Mongrels used him as a lure for me.”

  Emma hadn’t seemed shocked at all at Gabe’s statement, but Jarrod had concerns. “Why did they want you? Why come after Cameron? They could have grabbed you just as easy when you’re away from the group.”

  Gabe had shrugged. “Who knows why my cousins do anything they do. They probably figured I’d confided in Cameron about the gold and such, and if they took him, they could extract the information from him. Then knowing I wouldn’t allow them to harm someone I care about, I’d follow and they could try to capture me as well.” He slid an arm around Cameron’s waist and pulled him up against the side of his body. “Whatever they wanted to accomplish is a moot point now. Cameron and I are safe. You all are safe. Everything’s okay.”

  Muted laughter sounded from the trailer, pulling Jarrod out of his thoughts and back to the present.

  Jarrod wanted to call bullshit on part of Gabe’s story. He had a feeling his brother’s new boyfriend knew exactly why the gang took Cameron and why they wanted Gabe to follow. But the adoring, worshipful expression on his brother’s face had stopped him from questioning Gabe further or accusing Cameron of hiding something. Maybe once the first strains of Cameron’s love for Gabe cooled and matured, then he’d pry them for the whole truth.