Creature Comforts

by Creature Comforts (lit)

  Chase held out his hand for India, hope filling him for some kind of future with her. He flashed his phone to the group and pulled his mate alongside. The warmth of her body eased into him with a comfort unlike any other. If this was the last battle he wanted to share one last thing with her first. “We’re taking my bike. You guys take the SUV. Meet you there.”

  Chase sent off a text message to all his were contacts. He hoped they received it in time and he prayed they responded like he hoped. Opening a cabinet in the carport he handed India a helmet more her size. She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. “How many females do you take for a ride?”

  “Only the real special ones darlin’” He smirked as he strapped his own in place, letting his eyes travel down the fit of her vest and leathers. “And I have to say…you look real special in that.” Swinging a leg over, he steadied the bike while she climbed on behind him. “Never ridden a bike before?”

  Leaning forward and grasping him around the waist, he nearly howled in delight at the feel of her breasts against his back. “No, but I’m a fast learner. And I heal twice as quick.”

  “Then let’s go kick some ass, babe.” He revved the engine, shifted gears and roared away, aware that the rest of the pack was right behind him.

  Whatever India yelled ripped away into the wind before he heard a thing. Her intent, through the matebond was clear. She had his back and intended to kick any ass that threatened them. Grinning behind his visor, he couldn’t help but laugh. Damn if it wasn’t like riding free with the Hell Hounds again. Chase gave a whoop and gunned the cycle. Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  The wild ride wound through the darkness on oil topped back roads. The vibration of the machine under her and the warmth of the male India clung to was exhilarating. She felt as if she could do anything. It didn’t matter. She was flying. Behind her, she could feel the pack, an extension of her own consciousness. She was a part of a whole. Accepted, protected, and perhaps even…needed. India smiled into the leather covering her mate’s back, inhaling the scent of male.

  The motorcycle slowed, veering into the parking lot of a low but sprawling metal building and a vintage fifty-something truck. India didn’t have a clue as to the actual make and model, but the powder blue vehicle itself looked like it belonged on the set of a Happy Days set, while the two ragged passengers in the back were Beverly Hillbilly all the way. Hills made of white and greenish pipe lay secured behind an eight foot chain link fence bearing the sign Pal-Tube Plumbing Supply.

  Chase pulled off his helmet as a skinny figure, to the point of boney, slunk into view. The creature’s greasy gray-streaked hair went well with the whole crawled-out-of-the-woods-image. He struck in faded torn overalls and nothing else. Dirty bare feet with the longest toes she’d ever seen wriggled in the gravel of the parking lot. “Glad you could make it, Jude. Nice truck.”

  The man grinned, exposing yellowed teeth, easily visible in the night. He eyes gleamed red. “Thanks. It was my brother, Terrence’s.” Jude’s grin faded to a grimace. “Yer message said to come a-hunting. The kids wanted a piece of what killed their dad.” His thumbs hooked around the point where the straps of his overalls hooked to the bib. Jude’s scruffy jaw worked as if gnawing out the inside of one cheek. His shadowed eyes looked as haunted as the silent figures waiting in the back of the powder blue truck. “Way-elll, against my better judgment, here we are. What’s in this for us?”

  A shadow detached from the side of the building. “The very fact that you are standing in wolven territory with your throat intact should answer that question, raccoon.” Perfectly groomed in a long tailored coat, buttoned shirt and slacks, all in natural browns. He seemed more suited to a board room than a back woods hunt. The olive complexion of his skin and shadows nearly hid his dark eyes despite the brown hair that smoothed away from his forehead. A strong defined nose held up wire rimmed glasses, reflecting the shine of the moon. He extended an equally strong but well groomed hand “Chase Redding?”

  India lifted her nose, scenting canine, but not necessarily wolf. Chase’s fist clenched. “Raymond Reys. Your kind is not welcome in our territory.” Through the matebond, she felt hard anger, not necessarily directed at the stranger, but certainly the cause of it. “And you are damn well not invited on this hunt.” She glanced at her mate, waiting, but not reassured at his sharp nod and refusal to clasp hands with the stranger.

  Reys was nonplussed. Pulling off his glasses, he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief that matched the material of his shirt. Appearing absorbed in the task of cleaning his glasses he worked in silence, then slipped them back on his nose. “My kind.” When he looked up, he wore the face of a man who would not be denied. “And what kind is that?” His face didn’t waver as the SUV slowed on the highway and turned into the driveway. Mack’s truck followed close behind. The wash of headlights over the man’s sharp features cast him in hard relief.

  The SUV ground to a stop, the doors of both vehicles opening all at once for the Pack to tumble out. Pixies flew from the truck. Tiny whoops and shouts clear as they streamed to hover around Chase and India. Pink haired Thorn dropped to the warden’s shoulder, while Wren and the other pixies circled in a loose formation.

  Adam strode ahead, stopping a few feet away from the strange male. A low cough, a clearing of a throat made them all look at the wereraccoon. Four lithe males and two females stood around Morgan. India almost didn’t recognize the man from earlier. His parted hair was now green, the color of the forest in midsummer. His eyes, lovely without glasses covering them, were an indeterminate color. Gone were the western clothes, hat and boots. In its place, he dressed similarly to his companions in an embroidered tunic and loose pants tucked into leather boots. “Good Evening, wolves.” He pressed his palms together and gave a small head bow to the wereraccoon. “Jude. I apologize for not knowing how to address you, sir,” He told Reys.

  “Raymond Reys.” As one, the wolven rumbled in warning. Chase took a step toward the stranger, his intent to clear out the unwanted help.

  “Enough.” Adam’s sure voice stopped the warden in his tracks. The sad timbre drew India’s eyes to where the Alpha stood sizing up Raymond Reys. In passing, he touched her on the shoulder, making her catch her breath. Through the packbond, she felt the rightness of the Alpha. Knew she’d do whatever he asked, not out of subservience, but because Adam Weis truly cared about others. His people were everything to him. He laid a hand on her mate’s tense shoulder, easing some of Chase’s tension. “How many did you ask to come, warden?”

  “Ten.” Chase replied. He hesitated, then explained. “The Weres were hit hard with the sickness. Jude and his kin are all I really expected.”

  “Better late than never, I always say.” Another male strolled out of the darkness. His naked tanned skin, held the scent of cat and the wild. India tensed. Feline shapeshifters as a rule were solitary and pack creatures disliked loners. Besides, he was a cat. That particular rivalry was as old as time, and just a true. His dark hair fell in disarray around his face. He rolled a shoulder. “By the time I found my phone, I thought the party might be over. I decided to see what all the hubbub was about.” Felines were notoriously blasé about possessions until the items were needed.

  “Nathan.” Morgan bowed again. “Good to see the panthers represented.”

  Nathan the werepanther kept up his easy stroll to walk around Reys. He laughed, a subtle, calculating sound that made India’s hair stand up. She wondered if every gathering of mixed species involved so much posturing. Nathan grinned and winked at her, eliciting a growl from Chase, whom he ignored. The cat’s interest was all on Reys. “I’m surprised the coyotes have the balls to show up in Anderson County after all these years. Unless, of course, you were invited.” His tone of voice and the arched eyebrow said that he didn’t believe that for a moment. “Weis, you going soft? Decide to give the slimy bastards a way back in.”

  Adam’s eye
s glowed red. Only his head moved as he locked eyes with the panther. “Cat, you are here by invitation only. Remember that.”

  “Sure. I only want a piece of the Hunters.” The werepanther stopped his circling and drifted to Morgan’s group. He sneered at the werecoyote, Reyes. “Don’t mind me. I’m going to enjoy watching you wolves take down the coyote for old times sake.”

  India stayed back as the wolven moved into a deadly circle around Reys. The werecoyote kept his stand, his chin up, waiting for something. It didn’t feel right to her. She rubbed her head, thinking that maybe she should do something until she felt a presence at her side.

  Carter, the Hunter glanced down at her. “Why?”

  India shook her head. Obviously, there was bad blood between the werecoyotes and the wolven. But surely, this male didn’t have anything to do with this. Just as she gathered her courage and stepped forward. Brandon glided into the circle, facing Reys. Everyone waited with baited breath. Small mutters of encouragement drifted in the air. Whatever the coyotes had done, it was bad. Bad enough that the wolven and the other Weres waited for blood to flow.

  “Hey, Ray-ray.” Brandon called softly. He extended a hand. Dark confusion whispered along the packbond. The others had wanted bloodshed, now they were getting something else from the most bloodthirsty of the lot.

  The werecoyote flexed fingers stiff from holding a tight fist. A faint smile ghosted across his features as he took the offered hand. “It’s been a long time, Bran.”

  “Yeah. Nobody but you ever called me that.” The lean warden put his other hand over their clasped ones in an unheard of gesture of acceptance. “You always were a do-good bother.”

  “And Ray-Ray was only your nickname.” Raymond Rey’s face returned to his hard expression. “I saw the paper, Bran. What happened to Ricardo.” Adam made a noise and the werecoyote pressed his lips together in a thin line before acceding to the wolves. “What the Hunters did to Rick. I followed because I want to be a part of making it right. I have to make it right again.”

  Adam moved into the circle. The cool pale planes of his face held no trace of forgiveness. “Raymond Reys, I gave the werecoyotes free passage out of my territory on the condition none of you ever returned. You may have been a child at the time, but the edict stands. I don’t want the coyotes in Anderson County. I want you out.” The last was an angry growl that Reys faced with a straight back and clear but wisely avoided eyes.

  “Not all of us. You kept one and kicked the rest who weren’t a part of your little group out of our homes.” Reys took a breath, the knowledge that he was walking a thin line evident in the strain of his voice. Still, facing off with someone as legendary as Adam was in the shifter world took some major cajohnes. “You killed Garrick Moser and his ally, the werecoyote leader, Benjamin Gates. Under threat of death, you forced anyone with coyote blood out. But you kept Ricardo. You adopted him.”

  Adam turned his back, done with the coyote. “We need to get on the move people. Tamara, you and India get the werecheetah. The rest of us will move on the Church of the Clean.”

  “I’m not done.” Reys said as he pushed out of the circle after Adam. Brandon held up a hand, warding off anyone who might stop the coyote. Angry glares met the warden’s equally fierce stare, but no one moved. Except Chase.

  * * * *

  Intercepting the coyote, Chase stopped him before he could get to the boss. “Yeah, kid. Everyone had a rough time back in the old day. It’s time for you to move on. The fact is, Rick was one of us. A wolf.”

  “No. He was my brother.” Reys strained to see around Chase, but the warden hardened his heart and took the coyote by the arm. They’d been through too much to let one asshole tear down what healing had been done over the years.

  “Sorry bud. Half, quarter, whatever. That doesn’t cut it.”

  “No. You tell yourself that to make yourself feel better. Ricardo was my baby brother He was only half wolf.” Reys jerked free. His emotions made the air heavy with mixed scents. Foolish for the male, no fear lingered in the air. He should have been shaking in his drawers. Long ago, the Pack had evicted then warned the werecoyotes never to set foot in Anderson County again. “But he was my full brother.” His dark eyes burned with anger, including them all in his accusation. “And you took him away.”

  Chase stopped and waited. The past rolled over him. The things they’d had to do to make Anderson County safe again hadn’t been pleasant. Some of the coyotes fought being relocated, despite the monetary compensation Adam gave them. Hell, they had been barely making it before that. Paying off the other Weres to leave, then forcing the last of them out, had been a financial mess that took years to recover from.

  Garrick Moser and his coyote buddy Benjamin Gates had been two peas in a pod. Yeah, the evil nasties, they’d killed without qualm. But there had been a few tearful ones who’d begged to stay. Some wanted to join the pack, but the wolven were done. They’d wanted nothing more to do with the coyotes. Hell, Brandon had been so traumatized in those days, the kid had Changed to wolf form and stayed that way for about a year or so, never straying from Diana’s side. All they’d wanted was for the coyotes to be gone. Permanently.

  A tiny bit of guilt found its way into Chase’s heart. He felt bad, but in the end, he was Adam’s wolf. He had to hold firm. He’d protect the boss and his pack to his dying breath.

  “Dad.” Brandon stopped behind the coyote. His eyes on the Alpha, who rested both hands on the hood of the SUV. The tense line of Adam’s shoulders said that he was ready to kill something. Brandon skirted the coyote and Chase, though as a warden, he watched to see what the other would do. Never, had he seen Brandon take up another’s cause. Of everyone, he’d been hurt the worst by both the old Pack leader and the coyote’s. “Dad. We could use another hand in this.”

  Adam turned halfway, swiveling from his hips, his glacial eyes on his son. “There is no place here for the coyotes.”

  Brandon shook his head. “Do you know what it’s like to have someone take your brother away?” It was a rhetorical question that shamed Chase. He wished he could close his ears to Brandon’s defense of the coyote. “That the monsters, the real monsters, have him and you can do nothing about it?” He shared a heavy look with his twin, that got no further than Bradley crossing his arms. His stance stated his firm loyalty to his Alpha’s edict, whatever side of the fence that the morality fell on.

  “Yeah. That part sucks, doesn’t it?” Carter spoke up from the other side of the SUV. Chase frowned. Damn, he’d forgotten about the Hunter. He vowed to keep a closer eye on him until they either killed him or could get him gone. The Hunter shifted, leaning his elbows on the dusty hood. “Makes you feel…responsible. But,” Carter rolled one shoulder in a shrug that hinted how personal his quest to rid the world of monsters had become. “What the hell could you have done anyway?”

  “Stay out of this.” Reys snarled, the power churning inside the coyote, or was that coyote-wolf hybrid? It made Chase’s hair stand on end, and he gave the male a warning growl to stand down. They didn’t need the infighting. The wereraccoon’s nervousness made it clear that Jude would just as soon pack up, taking the fickle panther with them, and let the wolves and the fairies deal with the psychic problem by themselves. With the boss seemingly caught up Rick’s death and the trauma of the past, and Mack in the same sort of limbo, Chase opened his mouth to speak up. Truthfully, they could use Reys help. He sensed the edge of a fighter in Reys. This whole situation proved over and over again to Chase that for the moment, the wolves were behind in the game. They could use a lot of help.

  Lights slowed as another car pulled into the parking lot. The deep bass from the sound system thrummed in Chase’s bones. He pulled his mate closer as they watched the low slung tricked out Caddy roll to a crunching stop in the gravel. The spinners on the tires kept moving, reminded him of a jogger running in place. Going nowhere fast.

  “Chase…” the Alpha warned.

  He rubbed a hand down the
smooth skin on his mate’s arm. “We need reinforcements.” His resolve stayed strong, but he didn’t challenge Adam with eye contact. Instead he sought out Mack, aware that the newcomers were waiting for a signal that they were welcome. “Has anything changed?”

  The Beta’s drawn countenance pulled into a deeper frown. “No. Not much.” Mack rubbed one big hand over the back of his neck, as if to massage some of the tension there. The answer to Chase’s question was directed at the Alpha. Mack’s way had never been to pull any punches with Adam. “A few saved. But Grim Reaper’s been busy adding to the list.” His eyes looked haunted before they shuttered and he blocked the packbond. “Whoever got Rick had enough fun that he plans on doing more of the same.” Not for the first time, Chase wondered how much Mack saw, how often the visions followed him into sleep. If anyone needed to be bitten, it was Mack.

  Adam’s head bowed in careful thought. He looked over to the Caddy and nodded as a quiet sigh of relief filtered through the packbond. Two more males had heeded the call. Cornrows covered their heads, ending in small tails that curled up over their shoulders. A handful of gold necklaces apiece lay on their expensive jerseys. Their squat vaguely ethic bodies barely held on to the oversized clothes and pants riding below their buttocks. The porcine musk revealed them to be wereboars despite the distinctive pseudo-gangsta waddle they affected.

  “Damn. A couple of ducks.” The boars stopped and glared in the Hunter’s direction. One grabbed his crotch and sneered back while the other kept waddling, giving a sparkly ring covered middle finger wave as they covered the distance to the group.

  “Yo, dawg.” The wolves held their breaths at what would have been an insult to any of them. Grinning with enough gold in his teeth to set off a metal detector, the boar slouched, drawing his fist up in greeting. “Time to kick some Hunter ass.”

  “Boar.” Chase grinned and double punched fists with the boar. He nodded in Adam’s direction. “My Alpha, Adam Wies.”