Lone Wolf: Tales of the Were (Were-Fey Love Story Book 1)

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Lone Wolf: Tales of the Were (Were-Fey Love Story Book 1) Page 1

by Bianca D'Arc




  Tales of the Were ~ Were-Fey Love Story #1

  LONE WOLF

  by

  Bianca D’Arc

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Copyright © 2017 Bianca D’Arc

  Published by Hawk Publishing, LLC

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Josh is a werewolf who suddenly has extra, unexpected and totally untrained powers. He’s not happy about it—or about the evil jackasses who keep attacking him, trying to steal his magic. Forced to seek help, Josh is sent to an unexpected ally for training.

  Deena is a priestess with more than her share of magical power and a unique ability that has made her a target. She welcomes Josh, seeing a kindred soul in the lone werewolf. She knows she can help him... if they can survive their enemies long enough.

  DEDICATION

  This is dedicated to all the lone wolves out there. The ones who march to the beat of their own drum and keep on keepin’ on.

  I’d also like to offer special thanks to my friend, Peggy, for her insights and to my editor, Jess, for being so accommodating on this particular project, where time ran short to get everything done that we needed to get done. My heartfelt thanks to two great friends and helpers.

  And, as always, to my family, who stand by me and encourage me as I keep on livin’ the dream. Or, at least, try to do so.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  Excerpt from Snow Magic

  About the Author

  Other Books by Bianca D’Arc

  PROLOGUE

  New York City

  “Don’t fuck with me, old man.” Josh’s voice was a deep growl in the dark shadows of the city night.

  He didn’t like cities for just this reason. Too much noise. Too much concrete. And too many damned Others in too close proximity. It was impossible not to run into them from time to time, when he’d much rather avoid all contact with those of his kind—or close to his kind, at least.

  “You don’t want to piss off the East Side Alpha, loner scum,” one of the werewolves who formed a half-circle around their leader scoffed.

  “Watch it, shorty,” Josh shot back. “I have no beef with your Alpha. I’m just passing through, minding my own business. I’d appreciate being left alone to attend to it.”

  “All strays entering our territory are supposed to ask permission of the Alpha. Any mongrel knows that,” spat another of the support staff while the leader just watched, his cool eyes evaluating. He was a cagey one.

  “How the fuck was I supposed to know there was a Pack infestation in this part of the city? As you already pointed out, I’m a loner. I don’t have a Pack or any other affiliations. I walk my path alone. By choice.” Josh was getting really annoyed. He didn’t owe these pricks an explanation.

  “Infestation?” One of the lieutenants growled and surged forward, but the Alpha’s hand shot out to hold him back.

  “Perhaps you don’t know the proper etiquette,” the Alpha spoke at last, his words measured and his gaze shrewd. “But seeing as how we’ve now crossed paths, why don’t you give me some reassurance that you aren’t here to try to upset my Pack or any Others I’m allied with? This is my territory, and I protect it. Even a loner can understand that, surely?”

  Hmm. A thoughtful Alpha. Josh supposed this guy hadn’t risen to such a position in this kind of densely populated area without good reason. Josh could respect that, even though the older man currently stood in his way.

  “All right, I’ll give you that,” Josh said, nodding. He gave the appearance of relaxing marginally but was still ready for anything. “I’m here looking for a guy named Duncan. Supposed to be of the magic persuasion. I heard he was up this way, and I’ve come to find him.”

  “And what will you do if you locate him? What do you want him for?”

  “I need to talk to him.” It irked Josh to have to give this dude any more information than strictly necessary. What Josh was doing in New York was his own damned business.

  “Talk? You sure that’s all? I won’t sanction unnecessary violence on my patch.” The Alpha knew something. The narrowing of his eyes gave him away.

  “Why? You know the guy?”

  Josh shifted his weight, trying to appear casual, yet strong. It wasn’t a hard pose for someone of his height and stature, even when faced with a werewolf Alpha who was only a couple of inches shorter.

  “I might.” The wolf cracked a smile. “If he’s the one you seek, he needs no protection from me. You might, though.”

  Josh bristled, and his fingers flared, shooting sparks from the tips that dissipated near his feet.

  Damn. He really had to get this shit under control.

  The lesser werewolves backed away. Only the Alpha stood firm, facing Josh, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke.

  “What the fuck are you?”

  “I wish to hell I knew.”

  *

  Josh hoped to hell that the werewolf Alpha hadn’t given him a bum steer. The guy had seemed nice enough once they finally got down to it, but Josh didn’t really know the man. The Alpha might’ve sent him to an enemy’s door, just for shits and giggles, for all Josh knew.

  There was definitely some strange mojo around the house. Expensive. Old. It had an air of blood about it that Josh couldn’t quite place. And deeply ingrained protective magic.

  It was an old brownstone in the heart of Manhattan. Pricey address. Very upper crust. And the very stone it was made from was steeped in magic. It pulsated in repetitive waves from the place, but it didn’t feel malevolent. It was just sort of sitting there…watching. Waiting.

  Squaring his shoulders, he mounted the steps, sending up a quick prayer that he wasn’t about to let loose the hounds of hell. He reached gingerly for the shiny gold knocker on the door, and when sparks didn’t leap out to burn him, he touched his fingers to the cool metal. He tested it for a moment before grasping it to give three firm knocks.

  So far, so good. The magic of the house remained at rest, like a sentry eyeing the intruder, waiting for Josh to put a toe wrong before lashing out. He supposed that was a good response. If the magic surrounding the house was evil, it probably would have gone for him already. That seemed to be the response of every creature of ill intent that had crossed his path in recent weeks.

  The magic that had suddenly come alive under Josh’s skin was apparently all too tempting for those who wanted it for themselves. Or to serve their evil masters. Ne
ither of which Josh was prepared to allow.

  The battles had been bloody and fast. The magic had risen in him, but it was untrained and still unfocused. He’d relied on his fighting skills while the magic did just enough to allow him to get close to his enemies and rip them apart.

  He’d left a trail of bodies from the Badlands to the steps of this elegant townhouse, but it couldn’t be helped. It had become all too clear that Josh needed help harnessing the power that had inexplicably risen in him, and that quest had led him here, looking for a guy named Duncan.

  Was he mage? Josh wasn’t sure. But the wise woman who had set him on this path had steadfastly believed that only Duncan—or one like him—could help Josh now. She’d refused to tell Josh the nature of the being he sought, but she’d said that this Duncan fellow was the most likely to be able to help him.

  Josh had thanked the old lady and gone on his way before his enemies had found him again. The last thing he’d wanted to do was bring trouble down on the wise woman’s doorstep. She’d been kind to him at a time when he’d needed it most, and he wouldn’t forget that. If he ever got control of what he’d become, he’d pay her back in some way. He didn’t know how, but he’d do it, even if it took the rest of his days.

  However long or short that may yet prove to be.

  The door opened suddenly, and Josh studied the man across the portal. He was tall. About Josh’s height. Powerfully built. A warrior, then. He wasn’t a shifter, but he smelled strongly of magic, and the odor of the house…

  “Vampire?” Josh was appalled. He’d never had anything to do with bloodletters, and he didn’t want to start now.

  “Not me. The house belongs to a friend who is of that persuasion,” the man said, his voice low and almost…musical. It was an odd thought to have, but it fit. Somehow. “Who are you?”

  “My name is Josh. A wise woman sent me to look for a man named Duncan. Is that you?” Josh had come too far to prevaricate now.

  The other man’s eyes narrowed as if he was considering his reply. “Before I answer your question, tell me…why do you seek Duncan le Fey?”

  “Wait a minute, did you say fey?” Josh shook his head and looked down at his feet for a moment.

  It just figured. He was getting messed up with shit he had no desire to know about. He was a shifter. A werewolf. He’d been hoping the guy he sought was some kind of shifter too. Or, at worst, maybe a mage. But a fucking fey?

  Josh hadn’t really even considered that the myths about fey might be real, after all, but this guy’s words seemed to indicate that they were. Fuck. Why in the world would the wise woman send Josh after a fucking fairy?

  “It’s not contagious, I assure you.” The guy sounded pissed as Josh refocused on the man in the doorway.

  “Sorry. I just…” How could he tell the guy he had no desire to meet a fey? He couldn’t. Because the shitty truth of it was, he’d probably been sent halfway across the country looking for a fey, though he hadn’t realized it at the time. “It just took me by surprise. I had no idea.”

  “Clearly.” Frost came off the guy’s words. Yeah, Josh had insulted him. Well, that wasn’t anything new. Josh wasn’t exactly housebroken when it came to polite society, and judging by this fancy brownstone and the impeccably tailored clothes the man in the doorway was wearing, these folks flossed with gold threads. “My question remains. Why do you seek Duncan, who is fey, apparently much to your surprise and dislike?”

  Josh felt the power building again, like it had when he’d been confronted by the local Alpha and his lieutenants. Shit. This kept happening, and he had no idea how to control it. That was just one of the things he needed help with, and it certainly seemed—like it or not—that his quest had led him here, to this swanky house in an upscale part of town.

  “This is why.” Josh held up his hands, watching the tiny lightning bolts of magical energy gather on his fingertips and then dart toward the sky, where he pointed them. Sky or ground seemed the safest places to let the magic go, but nobody had given him any instruction. He was just following his instincts.

  When the charge dissipated, Josh looked back at the man in the doorway. He seemed unimpressed, but he did have a little spark of interest in his eyes, if Josh wasn’t mistaken. Was it acquisitive interest? If so, the dude could just stop right there.

  “Look. If you want my power, I’ll tell you right now, you’re not getting it. I’ve been besieged by evil shitheads ever since this magic ignited a few weeks ago, and not one has bested me yet. All I’m looking for is someone who can tell me what the fuck is going on and help me figure out how to fix it. I was told this Duncan guy could do that. If not, I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”

  The man bowed his head slightly. “As you surmise, I am Duncan le Fey. And I recognize the flavor of your power. I’m intrigued that you don’t seem to know what you are.”

  “I’m a werewolf,” Josh answered immediately, though it had become pretty clear to him over the past few weeks that he was a bit more than that. He wasn’t sure why or how, but there was definitely something inside him that set him apart from the other wolves he’d known. Though, as a loner, he didn’t really know all that many.

  Duncan nodded. “And yet, you’re more than a simple wolf.” He seemed to come to a decision. “Will you come in so we can discuss this further in more privacy? The house’s wards are top notch, but it’s still not wise to discuss such matters on the doorstep.”

  “It smells of vampire in there,” Josh said plainly.

  “Yes,” Duncan answered just as honestly. “My friend, Dante d’Angleterre owns the house, but he is newly mated and currently on his honeymoon. I am house sitting, as it were. Dante is a bloodletter. I am fey.”

  Duncan could almost see the thought process happening behind his visitor’s eyes. Finally, the man shrugged and muttered, “What the hell? I’ve come this far.”

  The moment he came to a decision and stepped forward, Duncan moved back so the other man could enter. Duncan studied him as he passed. Werewolf, yes…but even more highly magical than others of his kind. The paradox he presented, just by his existence, was intriguing.

  Duncan had met many beings in his long life, but never one with such uncontained power. Familiar power, yet…different. Untrained and with a lethal edge that probably came from his shifter nature.

  “The parlor is just through that archway on your left,” Duncan directed.

  The werewolf didn’t hesitate, just stalked into the room and prowled around it for a bit before settling in the only chair with a view of both the front window and the archway. Interesting.

  Duncan entered more slowly, selecting his own seat with care. He wanted to be able to keep an eye on both his visitor and the window—in case the man had brought friends or been followed. Duncan waited to see what the werewolf would do next. He didn’t have long to wait.

  “My name is Joshua McCann. I’m a loner and have been living rough, but not wild, in the Badlands of North Dakota for the past few years. I was doing fine, minding my own business, when out of nowhere, my inner magic has just gone crazy. Suddenly, I had all sorts of people hunting me, confronting me, trying to trap me and steal my power. I’ve been fighting them off for the past few months. Killed most of them because they didn’t give me any choice. It’s driving my wolf crazy and making my human side a little nuts, too, with all the moving and running and watching my trail.”

  Duncan nodded slowly. It was clear his visitor was more than agitated. By what he described, he was being hounded—for lack of a better word, though he doubted the werewolf would appreciate the pun—by those who would steal his power. It was an all-too-familiar story, unfortunately, but this Joshua’s flavor of magic put a unique twist on the tired old tale.

  “Those who are unscrupulous often seek to steal magic as a shortcut to their own glory. And they often die for it, which I can’t fault you for, Mr. McCann.” Duncan shrugged. Those mages had brought their fate on themselves when their hearts had turned to
evil.

  The werewolf stilled for a moment, as if responding to Duncan’s deliberately calm demeanor. The last thing Duncan wanted to do was incite the already excitable werewolf. What he needed was to take things down a notch.

  The visitor nodded. “Call me Josh.”

  Good, he was responding, calming even as Duncan watched. Now, maybe, they could get somewhere in discovering what exactly was going on.

  “You indicated that the level of magical power was new to you,” Duncan began. “Was there some triggering event? Some definitive moment when the magic first manifested?”

  “Well, I’ve always had what I assume was the normal amount of magical awareness for any werewolf. At least according to my mother. She’s really the only other werewolf I know well. There was a bear shifter shaman near where we lived that I knew pretty well too, and I always knew he had way more power than either me or Mom.”

  “Bears are among the most magical of shifters. Did this shaman ever notice anything out of the ordinary with you or your wolf?”

  “Not that I know of.” Josh shook his head. “There was something… I should explain. I’ve been roaming alone for a while. I got a job and saved up some money to buy Mom a little place on the outskirts of the nearest large town so she would have some support while I went off to see the world. I didn’t want to leave her all alone in the middle of nowhere while I did my own thing.”

  Duncan nodded. Josh was a conscientious son, which spoke well for his nature and heart.

  “Mom seemed happy. She was making new friends among her human neighbors and her place backs onto wilderness, so she can go wolf anytime she wants with little chance of being discovered. I left her there to so I could experience a bit of the world on my own. I was doing okay until one night I came across something I shouldn’t have. There was a car crash on the side of a deserted highway in South Dakota. I was I wolf form, but I moved closer to see if I could offer assistance. I smelled a lot of blood and at least seven different human scents. There was also the odor of magic, but it wasn’t something I really recognized at that time. It took a while for me to become familiar with the particular reek of blood magic.”

 

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