Dire Wants_A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan

by Stephanie Tyler

  “Safer for this time of night,” she explained. Kate started to ask why it hadn’t been locked in the first place, but Stray steered her away before she could.

  Humans frequented the place, mainly tourists and truckers just rolling through, and they’d have no idea that the glass was bullet and wolf proof. Or that there were weresnipers on the roof twenty-four seven.

  Vice waved to them and Stray waved him off and guided Kate into a private booth in the back room, leaving Cyd and Vice to eat and talk to Mo about the current situation. The less Kate knew about how bad the situation truly was right this moment, the better.

  He was going to love watching her continue to come into her own. She was opening up like a blooming rose, and her scent was richer, heavier than it had been hours ago. But he still likened it to crack for his wolf, and Brother gave a deep howl of agreement.

  “What’ll it be, doll—the usual?” Mo’s wife, Ellen, chewed her gum at a rapid-fire pace and smiled at him and Kate.

  “A few of them,” Stray said. “Kate, why don’t you try the special?”

  “That sounds great.” She smiled at Ellen and when the woman left, she asked, “Human?”

  “No. Were.”

  “Ah.” She took a discreet look around. “Is everyone . . . ?”

  “About half and half. I don’t think it’s wise to point them out.”

  “Can’t they hear us? The wolves, I mean.”

  “That’s why we’re in the private section—we’re okay to talk freely here.”

  He’d pushed his sleeves up and she leaned forward and pulled his wrists toward her. “Did this happen during the fight?”

  Her own bandages had come loose in the rain, but Gwen had cleaned and stitched them well enough.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “They’re the exact same cuts I have.”

  “Technically, they’re bites.”

  She glared at him. “You’re funny when you’re hungry.”

  He hesitated for a long moment before telling her, “We’re bonded, Kate. This is what happens to familiars.”

  * * *

  This is what happens to familiars . . .

  Stray had tried to spare her the answer that would make her stomach gnaw with guilt, but Kate had pushed. “I’m sorry—I didn’t know that would happen.”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  But it was. She’d gone outside, put herself and Stray in danger. And there was a good chance it could happen again.

  Ellen brought some dishes, and for several moments, they ate in silence. Despite everything, Kate was hungry—the night’s events had taken a lot from her.

  Her gaze went again to the book and she said, “Tell me about Rogue. It sounds like he’s under a spell by Seb, but I thought Dires couldn’t be spelled.”

  “It’s not a spell—it’s a mare. She’s a monster from nightmares—from hell, actually, and Seb’s controlling her and Rogue’s mind. But Seb, strong as he is, could never do this alone. He’s entered into a very dangerous pact with the dark arts, which is why I know he’ll never be the same.”

  “Evil seems to be unstoppable,” she murmured.

  “In theory.”

  “And in reality?”

  “Sometimes the good guys win one.”

  “And if you don’t, it doesn’t matter?”

  “We have consciences,” Stray growled. “You have no idea how badly I wish we didn’t.”

  She believed him. While he continued to eat, she flipped through the book, stopping on the passage about the familiars.

  She’d never owned a pet, never felt particularly drawn to cats or birds, although the book said it was a bit unusual for a witch’s familiar to be a bird.

  “Seb’s familiar’s a raven,” Stray told her, noting what passage she was looking at. “In case you see one hanging around.”

  “That’s creepy.”

  “That’s Seb for you.”

  “You two didn’t get along, I take it?”

  “I came late to the party. He did some good stuff for my brothers at one point, I guess. I just never got comfortable with him.”

  From what Stray had told her about the scars on his back, he hadn’t even been able to trust his own family. She would imagine that trusting strangers wasn’t high on his list of priorities.

  “The more I know about Seb, the better,” she said, and Stray began to fill her in on all things Seb. The odd thing was, it was as if he was telling her a story she knew, somewhere deep inside. His words were merely a reminder.

  “So Lila was his mate?”

  “In a way. But he let her leave. We wouldn’t do that. We protect our mates—”

  “From the big, bad humans?”

  He smiled wryly. “Last time I looked, you weren’t human. Convenient of you to forget.”

  Kate looked into Stray’s whiskey-colored eyes, fringed with dark lashes and flecks of black—the color grew more otherworldly when he was in wolf form. “You hate witches more than humans?”

  “It’s a neck-and-neck battle,” he told her. “But only certain witches.”

  “That’s because you have to like me.”

  “No, not really.” He continued eating—she couldn’t believe the amount of food he was able to casually put away. “I normally don’t put others’ needs before my wolf’s.”

  She realized he was talking about her orgasm by the cabin and her cheeks flushed with the recent memory. Her clothes were still damp and she realized she could come again easily. And that he hadn’t.

  She’d noted the hard bulge outlined in his wet jeans when he’d gotten into the truck, right before the blinding rain came down.

  “And don’t thank me—you’ll have plenty of time to make it up to me,” he told her.

  “Stop reading my mind.”

  “I can’t help it. I like what I hear.”

  “Wolves,” she muttered and dug into the plate of onion rings as he let out a hearty laugh.

  * * *

  The Weres were back. Gwen sensed them seconds after Rifter had, and the thrill of her wolf senses getting stronger was quickly erased by the strong sense of fear.

  “Don’t worry, Gwen. We’re not going out there to fight them this time.” Rifter went into the living room and she followed. Together, through the sliding glass door, they watched the glowing eyes staring back at them.

  Gwen knew they couldn’t see in, but she still felt exposed.

  “We’re safe,” Rifter repeated, and she was just beginning to believe it when something jumped in front of the doors, landing on two feet, his back to them.

  Killian.

  Her throat tightened and Rifter grew so tense, Gwen thought he would break. In seconds, Killian shifted to a black wolf that looked a lot like Stray’s, slightly larger. He raced across the field, meeting ten Weres head-on.

  “I can’t let him do this alone,” Rifter said, his voice already rumbling with an impending shift.

  “I’ll call Liam,” she agreed. Until she watched Killian fight.

  Kill’s Brother Wolf sliced through the Weres—the possessed Weres—with an ease that even Vice didn’t have. Kill was almost a blur as he fought. Other, as they were, but somehow he seemed otherworldly as well, and that was a whole different story. Because, as an immortal, Kill couldn’t have gone to the other side. That would be impossible.

  She continued to watch with fascination as the Weres died with a fierce howl followed by an unearthly scream, as black smoke puffed out of their mouths. It was the evil trying to escape and not die along with the mortal Weres. But as far as Gwen could tell, they didn’t succeed.

  He took down the wolves in a matter of minutes, then shifted immediately and walked back toward the house with an easy swagger. He looked handsome and c
ompletely unscathed, save for the blood of his kills. Instead of coming in through the sliding door, he simply saluted her and Rifter and then jumped up, presumably to the balcony he’d jumped down from.

  “I thought he was staying in the basement?” she asked, not wanting to mention the issue of the bodies on the lawn.

  “Who the fuck knows what he’s doing,” Rifter muttered. “Something’s going on with that wolf. The question is what—and we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Whether we want to or not, Gwen wanted to add, but she managed to hold her tongue.

  Chapter 25

  Jinx saw Cain bounding over the crest, still in human form. Cain fought the urge to shift quite well these days.

  An omega would have better control than an alpha. It was why any pack would be lucky to have one. It was exactly why Cain had kept it secret for so long. If the pack that had tossed the twins out so carelessly for being moon crazed knew they’d given up both an alpha and an omega, they would’ve kept the boys chained up for years until they either died or grew out of it. Weres had their first shift at sixteen, which left them wild and vulnerable. Dires shifted for the first time at twenty-one—and while that was a far more dangerous proposition, they didn’t fall prey to moon craze at all.

  It was why Jinx had taken them in, as he’d done for Weres in the past until they safely got through their twenty-first year. But he’d never grown as close to any of them as he had these two. Five years and counting and he felt like he’d somehow given birth to them. In a non-having-female-parts kind of way.

  Now they’d pledged their alliance to Liam’s pack, and Jinx knew it was the right place for them.

  Until then, Jinx would prepare them as best he could.

  “Where’ve you been?” he asked Cain now.

  “Recon,” Cain said, and Jinx didn’t believe that totally. But they were heady on Liam’s new rise to power and their new positions, even if it hadn’t been made official yet, and Jinx couldn’t take that from them just yet. Temperance wasn’t a Were’s strongest point, especially not for ones who were just shy of twenty-one.

  “That FBI agent’s been hanging around. Watching.” Cain stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “He doesn’t trust Shimmin.”

  “Who cares? I don’t trust him,” Jinx said.

  “We can’t just off a fed,” Cain pointed out.

  “Shimmin will, sooner or later, so at least he’s good for something,” Jinx told him. “You want to run, better do it now before we lock down for the day. I need to head out and check on a few things before I go back to the house.” Jinx put a hand out to touch Cain’s shoulder. “Talk to the fed and then get back to the house. I’ll give you an hour and if you’re not back—”

  “I will be.”

  “Good wolf.” Jinx ran, the wind brushing his face, his wolf longing to come out and take him away from all the shit raining down on his head.

  * * *

  Angus stayed in the diner until after midnight, poring over old case files on his laptop, because there was plenty of good coffee and it was far less depressing than the motel room that looked to be home for quite a while.

  He continued to ignore Shimmin’s calls for the moment.

  Since the curtain of the supernatural had been drawn open for him, everything had changed. For better or worse . . . he guessed he’d find out which soon enough. Tangling with the supernatural didn’t leave anyone alive for very long. Not humans, anyway.

  He had no goddamned idea who—what—he could trust.

  He didn’t expect or want help from Shimmin’s trapper group. Wanted to stay as far away from that man as he could, but he popped up like evil clockwork and kept on coming.

  And Angus continued to keep an eye on Cain Chambers, mainly to find out if he was, in fact, a wolf, like Shimmin said. Angus wanted to have doubts, but, if nothing else, Cain could possibly lead Angus to . . .

  To your death. Because, the thing was, as much as he was watching Cain Chambers, Cain had been tracking him since they’d met. And Angus would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t like it, or the way Cain seemed to study him. It was more than simply a combatant studying an enemy, although there was definitely some of that involved. But whenever he met that boy’s eyes, something inside of him burned, and in the nicest way possible. Because Cain was no boy.

  He tried to tell himself it was because he’d gone without for too long, and he desperately wanted to believe his own lie. Truth was, he looked forward to the nightly stalkings.

  When the hairs on the back of his neck began to tingle, he knew tonight would be no exception. He gulped his coffee and looked out the large window by his booth to see Cain was still there, leaning against the telephone pole, making no attempt to hide himself.

  Angus shut his computer and stuffed it into its bag, paid his bill and went out to talk to Cain. Typically, when he tried this, Cain would vanish into thin air. But tonight Cain stayed, although he’d moved down the block, where it was quieter, more deserted.

  He was smoking a cigarette—at least that’s what Angus smelled as he approached, although it looked to be hand-rolled.

  “That’ll kill you,” he said as he stood next to Cain, who now leaned against the brick building behind them. Cain gazed at him with the clear look of, Yeah, nice try.

  What had Angus expected, for Cain to say, I can’t die from human diseases? He suspected most supernatural creatures didn’t out themselves that easily. Instead, he watched Cain’s profile. Regal. Handsome. His skin looked golden although the sun hadn’t been strong enough to tan anyone in months.

  “What do you think will kill you?” Cain asked, after he blew smoke into the chilled air, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

  “This job,” he muttered.

  Cain snorted. “Dangerous for you out here.”

  “Not for you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Cain stretched. He was just over six feet, Angus’s height as well, lanky but muscled. He wasn’t dressed for the weather, not in a leather jacket, jeans and boots, but he didn’t look cold. “This town has plenty of danger to go around.”

  “And you’re part of that.” A statement, not a question. Angus paid for it when Cain pinned him, a hand on his throat. The boy was looking him dead in the eye.

  “Not a smart thing to do to a fed,” he croaked. “Or are you hoping that dead men tell no tales?”

  Cain laughed softly. “You’ve got a real flair for the dramatic, Agent Young.”

  He didn’t back off, though. And Angus didn’t think he wanted him to, because the hand wasn’t pressing hard enough to do anything but keep him in position while Cain’s body rested close to his. Finally, Cain released his grip. He didn’t move away, though.

  “What do you want from me?” Angus asked.

  “You need to be careful about the company you keep.”

  “Present company included?”

  Cain cocked his head and studied him. Angus wondered why he felt so calm . . . why this man had the kind of strength that wasn’t one-hundred-percent normal.

  Or maybe you’ve been studying the supernatural for so long, you’ve become too paranoid.

  Cain’s eyes shone under the foggy lamplight. So fucking handsome. And not all that young.

  “Don’t get involved,” Cain told him quietly.

  “Too late.” He relaxed his body and then surged forward, surprising Cain. The younger man stumbled backward and Angus flew forward, knocking him to the ground. His full weight was on Cain and he got the sudden, unshakable feeling that the younger man was allowing him dominance. That he would take back control whenever he decided.

  So why wasn’t he?

  He stared down into Cain’s eyes—the boy’s body was relaxed under his, Angus’s knee between his thighs to hold him in place. For a long moment, all Angus cou
ld do was breathe. Stare. And then Cain broke the gaze and moved away easily, leaving Angus on his ass on the ground, his computer next to him, while Cain was back leaning against the building. He did offer his hand to Angus though, and for some reason he couldn’t fathom, Angus accepted it.

  “Why dance around it, Fed? Ask the question you already know the answer to.”

  “You’re a wolf?”

  “Were. Yes.” Cain blinked and his eyes . . . changed. Just for a second and then they were back to his normal shade. Angus could barely breathe.

  He wanted to ask if Harm was too, if they knew each other, but he didn’t want to push his luck. Dancing around the subject might work better. “Were those women killed by Weres?”

  He didn’t think Cain would answer him, but he nodded slightly, then said, “Harm isn’t a Were. He’s a Dire.”

  “I don’t care what he is. If I find out you’re harboring a fugitive—”

  “Those women weren’t killed by a Dire,” Cain persisted.

  “Fine, I’ll bite.” He winced internally at his choice of words and Cain gave him a twisted, wry grin. “And you know that because?”

  “Dires are like seven feet tall. Three hundred pounds. A bite like those on the women comes from a much smaller wolf. Someone’s trying to frame Harm.”

  “And you wouldn’t be throwing your friend an alibi.”

  “And give up my own kind? I’m Were, not Dire, and I’m only twenty. Twenty-one in two days.” Cain stared at him. “I mean, I’m talking to you about wolves and shit. If I was trying to give Harm a cover, I’d go a different way. And for the record, he’s not my friend.”

  “You’re sharing all this why?”

  “Because if you get your supernatural information from Leo Shimmin, you’re going to be really fucked. He’s using you.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “I don’t want to see any more innocent humans get hurt. It’s not what my kind’s about.”

  His kind. This was getting far too real. Angus rubbed his forehead—the pounding pain that had occurred on and off since he’d arrived in town began anew. “Your kind is responsible for multiple murders.”