The Wolf Marshal's Pack

by Chant, Zoe

  Unless they were Colby, apparently. He looked like a weapon: hard, sharp, and purposeful.

  She put her hand on his arm and felt the muscles standing out. It was like his whole body was tensed.

  “Colby?”

  “You’ll want to take Mattie and your parents and go into the bathroom,” he said. His voice was unbelievably calm. “Take my phone. My boss is saved in it as Martin. Call him.”

  Aria felt like she knew Colby by now. And anything that had him this tense meant genuine trouble.

  He was right. She had to look out for Mattie and her parents.

  But even as she nodded, even as she pocketed her cell phone, even as she herded her family off to safety, she couldn’t help but think about the look that she had seen in his eyes. In the one moment that that perfect, fierce concentration had slipped.

  He’d looked like he was worried he’d never see her again.

  8

  Eli Hebbert didn’t waste any time.

  When Colby had gone out to “establish the perimeter,” he had basically done a circuit of the house and yard to familiarize himself with the layout and, more importantly, the smells. He knew the scent of the goldenrod out back and the remains of weed-killer out front. His wolf understood that all of this was now partly their territory. They would fight to the death to protect what belonged to their mate.

  And they would sure as hell know the second another wolf stepped onto their turf.

  Eli and Weston Hebbert had crossed that line, and his wolf’s ears had pricked forward at once. Colby had felt its snarl.

  Strangers, his wolf growled.

  And he had thrown it into gear right then and there, getting Aria and her family out of the way. He knew he’d acted quickly.

  But Eli was just as quick. Two enormous wolves broke Aria’s front door down within seconds of the Clarkes getting to safety.

  Colby fired. The bright muzzle-flashes of his gun went off like fireworks, but none of it even slowed the Hebbert brothers down.

  He was instantly buried under nearly two hundred pounds of savage timber wolf.

  No wonder the bullets hadn’t even made a dent. Hebbert’s shaggy fur was so thick that it felt like its own kind of Kevlar armor.

  To have any chance in this fight at all, he’d have to shift. It was a decision his hindbrain made instantaneously; before he even knew it, the world had turned into a gray and yellow wolf’s-eye landscape, one mapped out almost completely in scent and sound and feel.

  And this time, they were equally matched.

  Except for him being outnumbered, of course, but who was counting?

  He surged against one of the wolves, snapping his jaws around whatever bit of him he could get. He ignored the lightning bolts of pain that seemed to strike him wherever Hebbert was able to bite him back. The pain could be compartmentalized. Nothing mattered as much as winning this fight.

  His mate was in danger. Her child was in danger. He couldn’t lose.

  He wouldn’t lose.

  His opponent growled at him, his lips wrinkling back from his teeth, and Colby growled back, letting loose every primal instinct he’d ever felt, venting it in one furious rush.

  He felt a kind of savage, primitive pleasure when the other wolf briefly cringed back, his ears folding slightly against his skull. For at least a second there, he’d recognized Colby as the dominant alpha. Even if he hadn’t meant to—even if he would rather die than do it consciously—he’d conceded, just a little. It was an advantage that Colby intended to press as far as possible.

  But he knew immediately that the wolf that had just cowered before him was Weston Hebbert, not Eli. Not the alpha.

  Because there was no mistaking the full, savage force of what crashed into him next.

  Colby crashed back.

  He launched himself forward again, biting and snarling.

  I can take you both on. Two against one, when my mate is on the line? That’s nothing.

  One of them knocked him through the air, and he felt the heavy wood of Aria’s coffee table crack under his weight.

  They were wrecking her house, but he couldn’t think about that. Those were human thoughts. They didn’t matter now. This was a fight between wolves.

  And I’m the alpha.

  He projected the thought at the Hebberts as hard as he possibly could. It would come across in whatever language their wolf bodies instinctively used with each other, in a rush of pheromones and ear twitches. Maybe they wouldn’t get his exact words, but they’d get the spirit of the thing. Wolves had their own way of talking.

  And he had no problem forcing them to hear him.

  Back down. Back OFF. This is not your territory. They are not your prey. They are not your pack.

  You will not hurt them. I won’t allow it, and I’m bigger-stronger-faster-smarter. I’m ALPHA, and you’re going to STAY AWAY FROM MY MATE.

  It was impossible to say whether he was winning or not. Their wolf forms were hefty and their teeth were sharp, but he had instinctual, protective fury on his side. His opponents were still capable of feeling pain. Colby was miles beyond that.

  He knew, distantly, that one of the wolves had locked his jaws around the scruff of Colby’s neck. He knew one of them had dragged him down to the ground and pinned him for a second or two. He knew he was bleeding.

  But he didn’t care. None of it mattered.

  He snapped his teeth at one of the brothers, landing a hit.

  By now, the house stank of wolf. Neighborhood dogs had caught their scent on the wind, and Colby could hear a distant chorus of howls.

  It stirred something in his blood, like they were cheers of the crowd. They would be on his side, if they could understand; everyone knew you had to protect your mate.

  He and the Hebberts had become a kind of whirling Tasmanian devil, a hurricane of teeth and fur rolling around the room. The floor and ceiling swapped places almost at random as Colby bit and got bitten.

  And then all of a sudden he heard a noise his human mind knew intimately, even if his wolf ears had never heard it before.

  It was the gentle click of a gun’s safety being switched off.

  “Don’t move.”

  Aria’s voice was shaky, but her hands were rock steady as she aimed the gun at the Hebbert brothers.

  “Don’t you move a muscle. I have silver bullets.”

  Werewolves had a minor silver allergy, but a rash was the least of anyone’s concerns when they’d been shot. Really, silver bullets only hurt werewolves in the same way regular bullets did.

  But they didn’t spread that around much. It was handy to have people think that killing you would be really hard and really expensive.

  But the fact that Aria had thought to threaten them with silver bullets at all—

  She knew. She knew they were werewolves. Everything about Eli Hebbert’s enormous, scary dog had just been a watered-down version of the truth she’d already known.

  She had figured it out. She just hadn’t known how to tell him.

  And with no more info than that, with knowledge about werewolves gleaned only from this morning, she was still staring down the Hebberts and holding them off. She’d even figured out which wolf was Colby.

  She probably thought silver bullets were all that would work, and there was no way she really had any. Not if she’d only gotten dragged into shifter business today. She was bluffing. With her life on the line—with her taking a huge risk for his sake—she was bluffing.

  And she looked rock-steady and sure of herself.

  If Colby hadn’t already been in love with her before, he would have fallen for her right then and there. She was the bravest person he’d ever met.

  And, luckily for him, her bullets could still deter the Hebberts a little. They were more vulnerable now that Colby had worn them down.

  But it might not be enough. They had both shrugged off gunfire before. It wasn’t impossible for them to do it again, no matter how exhausted they were now. They were waiting
and watching, but they weren’t running. Not yet.

  They knew Aria would have to make two perfect head shots to take them out for sure. They were trying to decide whether or not to risk it.

  If they wanted to surrender themselves, it was Colby’s sworn duty to let them. He could arrest Eli and Weston Hebbert right now—even if arresting a shifter could sometimes be tricky.

  But he had trouble believing it could be over this easily.

  Aria chambered a round.

  “I mean it,” she said. “Shift back and get your hands up in the air.”

  She sounded firmer this time, more sure of herself. She’d probably spent so much time in the wilderness that she was almost as good at reading wolf body language as Colby was. She could tell they were really hesitating, not just tensing up so they could get ready to spring.

  Careful, Colby thought. Careful. Don’t take your eyes off them.

  He didn’t know whether he was talking to Aria or to himself.

  Then he saw one of the wolves put its tail between its legs.

  That was a submissive gesture, one a wolf usually only made when it was afraid or ashamed. There were plenty of good reasons to be afraid of having a gun in your face, but Colby still didn’t get it. They’d just been having a knockdown, drag-out fight. The Hebberts weren’t afraid of violence.

  Were they planning to surrender? Was it the idea of prison that made that wolf uneasy?

  Aria saw the tail too, and she knew what it meant. Her hands relaxed just slightly, and her finger hovered up off the trigger.

  “That’s right,” she said. “Nobody has to get hurt.”

  The wolf that wasn’t cowering gave a low, rumbling growl. His brother answered with a keening sound.

  Colby had the weird feeling he was overhearing some kind of private argument.

  And then the keening changed into a growl of its own, and that was something he understood all too well.

  That growl said the wolf was ready to fight no matter what happened.

  It all happened in about a millisecond. The other wolf readied itself to spring, but Colby launched himself forward first.

  He had more distance to cover. Hebbert was only jumping up.

  Up towards Aria’s throat.

  Aria fired.

  Colby collided with the other wolf in midair. The bullet tore between them, ripping across his ribs.

  He had Hebbert pinned. Any animal instincts he hadn’t already unlocked had free rein over him now.

  This time, he’d actually seen Hebbert try to kill his mate.

  But, he slowly realized, he didn’t have to fight any longer. He didn’t know if he or Aria had dealt the killing blow, but the wolf beneath him was already dead.

  And the other wolf had vanished.

  He went to Aria’s side, trying to see if she’d been hurt. He trusted his wolf’s nose better than any of his human senses. He could smell fear and determination—but not, thankfully, blood.

  She sank down to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close like he was a pet dog.

  “I thought you were going to be facing them down completely unprepared.” Her voice was teary and trembling. “I thought I had to help you—and I shot you!”

  Colby pressed his head against her, trying to reassure her.

  This is undignified, his wolf said, even as its tail was wagging. We’re not a dog.

  If she needs a cuddly dog right now, Colby said, you’re a cuddly dog.

  He stayed in the circle of her arms until she let him go. She sat back on her heels, wiping at her eyes.

  “I’m sorry. You can—you can change back, right?”

  Cuddly dog time was over. US Marshal time had arrived.

  Colby let himself fall back into his human body.

  He immediately regretted it. His wolf had been on an adrenaline high from the fight, and he’d been single-mindedly concentrating on protecting Aria and her family. Now everything he’d been able to ignore in his wolf form flared up in agonizing detail.

  His body was a road map of battle casualties. He had more bruises and bite-marks than he could possibly count, not to mention a few broken bones and the long groove the bullet had left along his ribs.

  And he was currently naked on Aria’s living room floor.

  What was that his wolf had been saying about dignity?

  But before he could even lurch upright, Aria was gently lowering an afghan down on him.

  “You’re shaking,” Aria said. “Look, I am too.” She held out her hand so he could see. “I feel like my teeth are going to start chattering.”

  “It’s the adrenaline.” He wrapped the blanket around himself. “The other wolf—”

  “He ran back outside. I shot at him again, but I was so freaked out that I think I missed. I’m sorry! I can’t believe I hit you.”

  “Hey.” He grabbed her trembling hand and held it between his own. “If I hadn’t been able to reach him in time, that bullet could have saved your life. I’m really glad you fired when you did. Your instincts were spot on.”

  “Well, my spot-on instincts almost ripped a hole in you. You need a doctor.”

  Colby shook his head. “Can’t. I heal too fast, they’ll know something’s up. Besides, until Theo and Gretchen get here, I don’t have anything to wear.”

  He poked at his tattered clothes, wondering if they were at all salvageable. Probably not. Not for the first time, he envied mythical shifters like Theo and Martin, who could take their clothes with them in and out of their shifted forms.

  Focus.

  “You should go tell your family that everything’s okay for right now. They’re probably worried sick.”

  Aria stood, but she didn’t leave right away. Instead, she just stared out the gaping hole where her front door had been.

  “He’ll try again,” she said.

  “Yeah,” Colby said. “But we’ll be ready. I promise.”

  She put her hand on his head, carding her fingers back through his hair.

  “I believe you.”

  “And, um,” he said, “do you have anything I could wear? I don’t exactly like going commando with your parents and Mattie around.”

  She broke down into the kind of bubbly, unstoppable laughter that always came when the tension finally broke. It took her a moment before she could pull herself together.

  “I can see how that wouldn’t be ideal,” Aria said gravely. “But I don’t exactly keep men’s clothes lying around.”

  “Anything would work.” He thought of another thing that would hopefully provoke that beautiful laugh. “Just so I don’t have to go around with my bait and tackle hanging out.”

  He grinned as that won him another fit of giggles.

  “I’ll see what I can do. Hang out in the kitchen for a minute, and I’ll bring you something.”

  She went to go get her family, and Colby tried to take stock of the situation.

  They had an enormous dead wolf, a naked US Marshal wrapped in a blanket, and a busted front door. And one of the Hebberts was still out there. Colby couldn’t smell him anywhere in the vicinity, so he doubted there would be another attack tonight. But Aria was right. Sooner or later, he’d come back.

  Whatever Aria had seen before that had made Hebbert come after her, now it was ten times worse.

  And now, Hebbert’s brother was dead.

  Colby frowned, remembering that strange argument between the two wolves. The dead one had whined... and submitted.

  Submitted to being cannon fodder.

  He had the sinking feeling that the wolf whose body he was looking at was Weston Hebbert, not Eli.

  Eli had been the alpha wolf, growling, forcing Weston to submit.

  And, in the end, die.

  Luke had said that Weston was almost as fierce as Eli, but Eli had thrown him away without even a second thought, and Weston had let him. Weston had obeyed his alpha, even when he might have been strong enough to challenge him. Eli had left Luke behind, but Luke had st
ill felt a pull of loyalty towards him.

  Eli Hebbert was ruthless enough to sacrifice his own pack but powerful enough to keep them in line. Someone like that could always attract new followers. If they couldn’t catch him soon, he’d gather up more and more allies who would be willing to die for him.

  The curtains were hanging cockeyed now, with the rod snapped in two. Colby yanked one down and lowered it over the wolf’s body. He didn’t want Mattie to see anything like that.

  If only all of their problems could be solved that easily.

  9

  “Marshal Colby, why is Mom bringing you clothes?”

  Colby was still hiding out in the kitchen. Aria was combing through her wardrobe for something that would, in a pinch, fit an adult male werewolf with completely different proportions from her. Ben and Doreen were concerned about the body on the floor.

  So far, Colby would say this was going about as well as he expected.

  “I got my clothes dirty,” he said, pitching his voice so that it would carry into the living room. “Your mom’s just rustling me up something to wear until my friends get here with my clothes.”

  “I’d rather wear dirty clothes than be naked,” Mattie said.

  “I’ve got a blanket.” He tried to sound cheerful. “And they’re not just dirty, they’re sort of... shredded. It’s a long story.”

  He heard Doreen say, “Mattie, shh. Don’t ask naked men questions.”

  Not a bad rule of thumb, all things considered.

  He had already called Martin and let him know that they were okay, and he’d at least gotten to it in time for Martin to keep the local cops from showing up. The last thing any of them needed were a bunch of regular, human police officers showing up on their doorstep and asking a lot of questions about the enormous dead wolf currently residing under Aria’s curtain.

  Meanwhile, Gretchen and Theo were officially on their way.

  So a tiny bit of order had descended since Eli Hebbert had hoofed it out the door. Just not much.

  “I found something!” Aria called. “They’re not great, but they’re clothes!”

  “Anything!” Colby yelled back.

  She hurried in to meet him, a sheepish smile on her face.