by Oliver, Lisa
Phillip’s pride surged, his wolf responding to the passion in Pearson’s voice. He’d never felt he really belonged anywhere. He’d spent years as a lone wolf during his years in the Navy. The Washington pack had welcomed him when he needed a place to stay after his honorable discharge. For the most part he’d been happy until he fucked things up. For the first time in months, Phillip felt a resolve, a sense of belonging, a part of something bigger than himself. He had a mate to protect, but it was more than that. Both he and his wolf knew that in the coming confrontation, he’d fight till his last breath; fight to save the pack that’d given him a second chance.
/~/~/~/~/
Kellen rubbed his chest, his heart sinking as he felt his mate’s determination to fight to the death deepen with every breath. He struggled to block his panic and concern. He wished, with everything that he was, that he could convince Phillip to go down and protect the others in the cells. Man and wolf would be a damn sight happier if they knew their mate was away from the main point of danger. But, damn; he had to trust that his mate knew what he was doing, even though he knew Phillip’s smaller stature would make him a target.
“Kellen.” Pearson’s voice startled him, but he gathered himself, his gaze steady as he eyed the man who rivaled him in strength and size. Pearson was as strong as him in every way, and his power rippled around the room. Kellen didn’t feel the need to submit, if anything his own wolf rose in response, but he kept his voice calm as he responded.
“Yes, Alpha.”
Pearson seemed shaken; Kellen realized Pearson was already in attack mode and operating more as wolf than man. Kellen wasn’t pack so the title was unnecessary. But the Alpha collected himself.
“Phillip is my enforcer; he’ll want to fight by my side and I won’t insult his honor or integrity by asking him to do otherwise. I can’t ask you to do the same. Our attackers are men you work with. If you prefer to…”
“I’m not leaving my mate’s side.” It was rude to cut Pearson off, but they were running out of time. “I don’t know yet if this is where we’ll stay, but I will fight for my mate’s home along with the rest of you.” He tilted his head up, daring Pearson to object. The look the two men shared was a combination of mutual respect, and the knowledge that they’d have to have a discussion in the not too distant future. If any of them had a future, that is.
“Okay, let’s meet this fucker on our home turf.” Pearson’s hard eyes swept the room. Ace sat with Devin on his lap, the vampire’s eyes flashing red. Kyle and Teric were back, leaning against each other and the wall. Steel turned up at some point in the conversation, his mouth a hard line. Levi’s presence beside him the probable reason. The incorrigible flirt Sebastian stood with four large shifters Kellen didn’t know; he assumed they made up the rest of Pearson’s core of ten enforcers. Sebastian’s customary leer was absent and Kellen’s opinion of the man rose. The large enforcer may use his looks as a shield, but the wolf behind the man was strong.
Pearson led them into the main area of the club. The chairs, tables, and even the booths were shoved to the side of the room and now a vast cavernous space greeted them; empty except for another ten men. Their leather pants, large size and rippling muscles indicated they were Doms. Not enforcers, but Kellen could tell from the hard eyes that scrutinized and then dismissed him, pack members determined to fight for their home.
“Gentlemen,” Pearson said, his powerful voice loud in the empty space. “The force coming seeks to take us out permanently. As soon as the enemy enters our doors, the club is going into lockdown.”
“Wouldn’t we be better to lock them out, Alpha?” One of the unnamed enforcers asked.
“I’m not having a siege situation, or humans getting hurt in the melee,” Pearson said forcefully, causing the enforcer to blush. “This is a pack matter and today we’re fighting the very men who’re supposed to keep all paranormals safe. We have no idea of numbers, could be forty or more. There’s no shame in going to the cells with the others. Things are about to get really messy in here.”
“Hey,” a large burly man, came out from the entrance to the restaurant, a white apron around his middle and two big cleavers in his hands. “This is our home; we’re a proper pack with an omega and everything. Our members, our subs, our territory are all worth protecting. Anyone who fucking dares hide with the babes downstairs can forget about eating here again.”
Kellen saw a grin flit over Pearson’s face. “Thank you Brutus, your support, as always, is welcome. The knives are a good look on you.”
Brutus blushed, an incongruous look on the burly man. Pearson looked up as a man at the door yelled out, “They’re here.”
Kellen’s stomach tightened, his fists clenched. He’d never shirked a fight since becoming a troubleshooter, but with Phillip standing silent sentry by his side, he’d never felt more vulnerable in his life.
He focused his mind, his message crucial. Something, some sixth sense knew if he didn’t tell his mate how he felt now, he may never get the chance. Malcom would never tolerate any of his troubleshooters opposing him, and the men he’d have with him, were as well-trained as he. He was going to be a target no matter what happened.
I love you.
Kellen felt Phillip stiffen, and then incredible warmth came through their bond.
Oh fuck, Kellen, babe, your timing sucks.
You had to know.
I’m not fucking dying, and neither are you. Tell me again when this shit’s done.
Not taking it back.
Not asking you to. Just…. Phillip’s voice trailed off; seconds later Kellen felt a brush against his hand and then his fingers twined with Phillip’s.
No dying. Got it.
Kellen stood watching the large double doors of the club. He could handle his own death; it wouldn’t be the first time he’d faced that possibility. But if anyone, anybody at all put a scratch on his beloved mate, and he accepted Phillip was his loved one in more ways than one; then by all that was holy, not one man entering the building would ever leave again and that included Councilor fucking Malcom.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pearson
Pearson felt adrenaline surge through him as he watched Malcom and his men file into the club. There were a lot of them, and he felt a mounting dread for his mate, his pack and the men who stood by him as strong and as silent as a grave. They were outnumbered, more than two to one. He recognized Malcom immediately. The man’s wolf hadn’t been kind to him; Malcom’s hair was completely grey, his skin ashen and pale, and his body appeared weaker than before. But the snotty look, the fanatical gleam in his eyes hadn’t changed. If anything they’d gotten more intense, and Pearson knew, as Malcom’s eyes picked him out of the crowd, only one of them would be left standing.
Do this for Michael. Dante’s voice softly caressed him; reminding him why the Washington Pack had been formed; why Cam had been saved; and why Pearson had fought so hard for so long, to provide a place of safety for all paranormals who identified as gay. Michael was his beloved brother; Omega born, gay from his first breath, torn to pieces after his first shift by his father’s pack simply for being who he was. And assholes like Malcom had done nothing. Michael hadn’t been important because at that time homosexuality was a crime and Michael’s death had simply been seen as a pack culling out a defective shifter. Pearson welcomed the anger his memories evoked, but he refused to let it cloud his judgment. His voice was calm when he greeted the intruders.
“Councilor Malcom. Your enforcer numbers seem excessive to bring in one little ferret. He’d be honored you thought him such a danger.”
“This isn’t about a ferret, and you know it,” Malcom snapped. “This is about the crimes this pack committed against wolf-kind. You’re all under arrest for….”
Pearson lifted a hand, and Malcom stopped, confused. Pearson squeezed Dante’s hand, and Dante brought up his other arm, pointing a small remote at a large metal box in the ceiling. Instantly metal clanged, chains rattled an
d large ceiling lights flared to life. A thunk let Pearson know the doors were barred; every window, and every exit was secured with ten-inch-thick metal plating that could withstand a tank invasion. Scramblers put in effect the moment the metal barricades were activated would prevent anyone from making cell phone calls, or gaining internet access. In the middle of a large human city, Steel, his dearest friend and trusted security officer, made sure any problems in the pack stayed within the walls of the club.
Malcom’s men looked around in shock and then back at the men from the Washington pack. Pearson could see the moment every single one of them knew there was now no way out.
“You were saying,” he said calmly to Malcom. “Something about crimes this pack committed against the Council. Crimes I wasn’t aware of.”
“Not the Council, you fool. This is bigger than that bumbling pack of idiots seeking to ensure the rights of all paranormals. You, what you’ve done – you’re shredding the very fabric of what it means to be a wolf shifter. Your deviant matings, allowing ‘others’ into a sacred pack structure. You have to be stopped; this can’t be allowed to continue.”
“My pack is registered with the Council. We follow all laws set by our elders. We neither seek out others, nor interact with other packs. Our territory has been held for over twenty years and no one’s ever voiced a complaint.” Pearson kept his voice steady, his focus on Malcom. He trusted the men with him, his mate and his enforcers, would be keeping an eye on the men who’d come with the rabid councilman. Although from the corner of his eye he could see some of them looking a little uncomfortable. The tension in the room was escalating. Pearson realized in that instant, the enforcers with Malcom had no idea why they’d been called in. Maybe a fight could be averted.
“Your pack should never have been allowed to exist!” Malcom was practically frothing at the mouth. “Your sheer existence is an affront to the Fates. You claim to mate; you engage in deviant acts; you allow vampires and other shifters into your ranks and treat them as equals. The men who stand with you – some have collars, makeup, and you pose as though you’re all kinds of tough with your leather gear and attitude. But you’re an insult to wolf shifters everywhere. You all are. The council won’t do anything about your sickening presence on this earth, but by the Fates, I will.”
“Councilor Malcom, sir, I don’t understand.” A tall man, dressed in black camo stepped forward, apparently the leader of the Council enforcers. “You told us we were here on Council orders. We only ever kill under orders. If this is some kind of personal vendetta….”
“You’ll fucking do as you’re told. I’m the eldest shifter on the Council. For too long I’ve been ignored, told to take the liberal line. And for what? None of the men in this pack will ever breed, ever bring honor to what being a wolf shifter is all about. You, you all have families, people that depend on you; you will fight if that’s what I tell you to do.”
“Malcom,” Pearson didn’t see any point in using the man’s title. He certainly didn’t deserve it. “You’ve got no right to force these men into a fight they can’t win. My men aren’t killers, but like any paranormal they’ll protect their homes and their mates. If this isn’t council ordered then under pack law, you’re trespassing, and my men and I have the right to defend my territory.”
“You don’t have the right to a territory, riches, or an omega! You don’t have a right to anything. It should all be mine and I will have it all when your cold corpses are littering the floor of this den of the devil.” Malcom’s lips were covered in spittle, his eyes black holes in a gaunt face; he’d completely succumbed to his insanity. Pearson turned to the tall shifter who’d spoken up before.
“We don’t want to fight,” the man said, and Pearson could smell his honesty. “We came here under orders….” He never got a chance to say anything else. Suddenly he screamed, clutching at his throat and then shifted; in his place was a wolf with nothing but madness in his eyes. All around the room Pearson could see nothing but bodies contorting, hear the screams from the transforming men, and then harsh pants and growls as more than forty wolves started stalking the Washington pack. Pearson had just enough time to look at Malcom who face was twisted in an evil grin – waving a shiny remote.
“You’re not the only one with gadgets,” Malcom gloated, and then Pearson felt a searing pain as the leader of the enforcers barreled into him. Feeling his wolf surge Pearson allowed his animal to take over, as he started to fight for his life.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Phillip, like all the other men present had heard Pearson’s warning. The men who’d come with the insane council member weren’t enemies. They were in the untenable position of being forced to fight. That was fine while they were human and could reason about things, but Phillip was faced with a sea of rabid wolves. Slipping his hand into his boot, Phillip clasped the handle of his trusty Bowie knife. Beside him Kellen shifted into his wolf form, and through their mind link he could hear his mate screaming into his head to do the same, but he kept his human shape.
During his years as a SEAL Phillip and his wolf had reached an agreement; his animal spirit lending him strength, speed and agility, without changing form. Now, as he slashed at the legs of a wolf determined to rip out his throat, Phillip hung onto his human body, knowing that his wolf was no match for the enemy he was confronting. The smell of blood was in the air and there was fur and fangs flying everywhere. A loud roar sounded from one side, and Phillip realized Devin had shifted into his 8-foot vampire persona. From across the room a yowl sounded – this time, Teric’s tiger. The Washington Pack was getting hammered and Phillip was no exception.
As he lunged and rolled, narrowly dodging another set of snarling teeth; Phillip glimpsed the faint indent of metal strands on the attacking wolf’s neck. What the fuck? Was Malcom controlling his enforcers with collars? In that instant Phillip knew what he had to do, but getting a collar off a wolf that was trying to kill him wasn’t easy. He jumped on the big animal’s back, clinging to the fur with one hand, and using his knife to hack through the metal with the other.
The two struggled; the wolf snapping over his shoulders, dodging and weaving, trying to dislodge Phillip from his back; Phillip, sawing and tugging with the knife, trying to get the collar free. The wolf reached the edge of the room and made one final frantic roll, sending Phillip flying off his back and into a plaster wall. For a split second Phillip thought he was done for; but then to his surprise, the wolf shifted, and a panting naked human knelt in his place, one hand around his throat, the other shielding his groin. The collar the man wore dinged on the floor ten foot away.
“Thank you,” the young man gasped. “That fucking….” He stopped and swallowed, clearly having trouble talking.
“Don’t mention it,” Phillip said, picking himself up and scanning the room. He needed to find Pearson or Dante, and Kellen. Somewhere in the mess of flying fur and teeth was his mate. Fuck. He didn’t even know what his mate’s animal form looked like and trying to scent him would be impossible.
“Stay here,” he ordered, making sure the young man huddled near the wall, before he threw himself back into the fray. His strategy was clear; remove the collars from the wolves attacking them. The execution of his plan wasn’t going to be as easy.
He spotted Levi’s smaller wolf form, cornered under some tables and ran to help. There was no sign of Steel’s scarred wolf, and Phillip figured they must have been separated in the ruckus. Now that he knew what he was looking for, the indent in the fur of the russet animal who was currently trying to have Levi for lunch was unmistakable.
This wolf wasn’t as big as the last, but he was running on madness. Phillip dodged teeth and claws, Levi ducking in and keeping the animal distracted, and finally Phillip removed the collar. Just like before the man immediately shifted, and muttered apologies. Levi gave a yip of surprise and Phillip caught his eyes, tapping the side of his head with one finger. “Tell Steel,” he said, waiting long enough for Levi’s nod, befo
re he felt the thump of yet another wolf intent on ripping out his throat. Keeping his grip loose but firm on his trusty knife, Phillip went back on the offensive.
/~/~/~/~/
Kellen was struggling. He’d lost sight of Phillip ages ago. Everywhere he looked there was fur, limbs, drooling mouths and dangerous teeth. Accepting death was one thing, but he had love in his life now, and he didn’t have a death wish. His wolf put on a good show as he dodged, weaved, snapped, and growled. But his heart wasn’t in the fight and that showed by the number of wounds he’d gotten as he tried to defend himself. These were men he’d trained with, had a beer with – hell, he’d been on missions with some of them. He’d recognized a number of the faces before Malcom forced their shift, yet none of his former friends could meet his eyes. Whatever the shift had done, the wolves he was fighting weren’t in their right minds. No matter what Pearson said, about not killing them, it was freaking hard to incapacitate a wolf with nothing but murder on his mind. But there was no way Kellen could force himself to take a killing bite.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Pearson; well he presumed it was the Alpha, fighting a big grey wolf. But before he could head in that direction, another large form barreled into his side, knocking him to the floor. He felt his back leg muscle tear and a fresh stench of blood, his own this time and he struggled to get away. Please, please don’t let this be someone I know. He managed to find purchase on the wooden floor with his front legs, and pulled away from the teeth, half turning to show fangs of his own.
Fuck, the asshole hit something major. Black spots swam before his eyes. He lunged again, pushing with his front feet, but he had no traction from behind. Another bite just above the last. It was as if his attacker was trying to eat him alive. Using all of his strength, Kellen wrenched himself around, the pain spiking as his leg ripped free for the second time, and finally his teeth found purchase. He didn’t have much, just a slab of skin under the wolf’s neck, but he hung on for grim death, his large skull preventing the other wolf from biting him again.