Rogue Breed (Rogue Huntress Chronicles Book 2)

by Thea Atkinson

  I looked over my shoulder at Jeb to be sure he had the invader in hand. He did. The man was already trussed up and sitting with his back against the wall and his hands tied around his knees. I imagined Jeb had pulled the rope from that seemingly bottomless backpack he always had with him. His keen sense of preparation always surprised me.

  "Change," I said to the girl. The blanket had landed at my feet and I bent to scoop it up. She'd be cold when she shifted, maybe in shock.

  It took the girl several moments with a hanging jaw and a lolling tongue before she even acknowledged the command. She was panting hard, and I found I had to round up a fair amount of patience as she gathered the energy. Despite a royally generous amount of time, she refused to give in. Or couldn't. Perhaps there was more to her refusal than met the eye. I strode across the floor and laid my hand down on her shoulders. "It's time," I said. "You're safe here. Let your beast go."

  I felt the tension beneath the muscles of my hand and I could tell she was trying to relinquish the wolf in her and come back to her human form. The change that rippled through the muscles of her back made her tremble beneath my hand. It was difficult, her change. I could feel it in my hand as she worked at it. Maybe there was silver in her after all and instead of doing the work I expected, it was keeping her from becoming human instead of the other way around. A horrible thought, that. I glared at the invader for good measure and when he stared back with not so much as a twinge of emotion, I swung my gaze back to meet the girl's eyes.

  "You can do it," I coaxed. "You're safe. They're all gone."

  When she finally relinquished her form, she was stretched out naked on the hearth, and I could see the extent of her injuries. They had been inflicted while she'd been in wolf form or they would have healed with her transformation. Several lacerations lay in red and bloodied weals across her ribs. Her cheekbone had been bruised and perhaps broken. It was a horrendous sight, one that made my stomach churn and the gorge rise in my throat. I watched her shivering at my feet and try to draw her knees up to her belly. Not just hurt, traumatized. It was only when she managed to wrap her hands around her knees, that I realized what had been wrong with her foot as a wolf. The one nearest me was clubbed, twisted inward with gnarled toes and a deformed ankle. Pity rose faster than the gall and I fell to a crouch next to her. I lay my hand on her cheek, whispered the backs of my fingers across her jaw line to cup her face.

  "You're okay," I said, throwing the blanket over her shoulders. "We'll look after you." I didn't want to think about the shifters' natural aversion to malformation. Somehow, I'd get the pack to accept her as a creature needing their protection, not their abhorrence. I swallowed down my anxiety about performing that miracle and whispered what I thought would be comforting words.

  "Beo has your back."

  Her eyes flew open at that. I could see her working to find the strength to push words past her tongue. She seemed to be strangling on the thoughts behind the effort. Those black eyes of hers bulged, frantically searching the room, but apparently seeing nothing that could calm her. Her throat worked in impotent convulsions.

  "What is it?" I said. By then I felt Jeb standing next to me.

  "PTSD," he said with the tone of someone who knew. "Maybe you better not press her."

  I nodded in acknowledgement. We should take care of her first. I was about to ask Rena to help me carry her to the same bedroom Dara had given me those weeks ago when I'd needed a place to heal when I felt the claw like fingers of the girl wrapping around my wrist. She had found some strength after all, it seemed. She pulled me down to her level so she could hiss in my ear.

  I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry, but he's dead."

  And then she passed out.

  WOLF WRANGLING

  For a scrawny little thing, the girl was heavy as dead weight and with me being naked, it was doubly difficult. It took both Rena and I to muscle the girl from her spot on the floor and even then it was with a fair amount of sweating and cursing. Rena was more dignified, although she did growl when I expressed concern about the girl's limp hand coming too close to my crotch. I'd snapped back that it was all well and good for her, she was still dressed and didn't have to worry about it. When the girl's crooked foot slipped from my grasp as we wrangled her into our arms, I let fly a series of curses that made Rena scold me like a petulant child. I glared at her once then reclaimed my grip long enough that we could lug the girl down the hall to one of Dara's rooms. If memory served me, the room was the same one I'd spent time in as I'd healed when Dara took me in. The bed was wide and covered in a fluffy duvet. The pillows had a faint aroma of lavender that made my nose twitch. Yes. The same room.

  We put the young shifter in bed after working that familiar flannel nightgown over her head and down her shoulders. I stepped back to look at her as she lay across the mattress. She looked like a rag doll in a flour sack.

  "Who do you think she meant by he?" I asked Rena. Something was itching its way down my spine as I thought about the girl's words. After the brush with Caleb's coup, I was fidgety that any threat might be meant for Lynden. I paced back and forth as I studied the girl, alternating between the rational belief that 'he' could mean anybody because I'd never laid eyes on the girl before and 'he' meant my brother because the boy had already been in danger once and I was in a constant state of worry for him now.

  Rena flipped the duvet up over the girl's form and tucked it under her chin.

  "Relax, Shana," she said. "She's obviously gone through a lot of trauma. Who knows where she came from or who she's talking about. Lord knows she could have just been rambling."

  I couldn't shake the feeling that the girl had reacted to my mention of Beo pack. "But why did she come here? This close to our pack?"

  Rena's black eyed gaze scanned me with a dry response. She pushed the thick mane of cocoa colored hair over her shoulder. "You need to ask?"

  I sighed. "I know. Dara would help her. She must have heard of this place and run for it when she got in trouble."

  "And he doesn't have to mean Lynden," Rena said. "There isn't a threat to your brother under every rock. You don't even know the girl, how could she have anything to do with your brother?"

  I felt my eyes trail to Rena's tattoo and had a hard time pulling my gaze from the muscles that worked her forearm as she ministered to the young shifter. The ink was old but some edges looked much fresher. In places the edges were crisp. Had it been that large last I'd seen her? I couldn't remember.

  I watched silent for long moments as Rena bustled over her, trying to work out why I was even feeling suspicious of a woman who had already shown me and Beo pack loyalty. I told myself it was because I trusted no one. Not anymore. After Caleb had betrayed me, I'd felt the last of that ability dry up like drought water.

  After a while, knowing I could do no more until the girl woke, I dug out some loose-fitting clothes from Dara's ever-flowing closet to pull on. I found several pair of combat boots in the depths of the closet and pulled one out in my size. They were as comfortable as if they had always been mine. That Dara. Seems she collected uniforms like she collected abused women. I tested the fit by lifting on tiptoe and doing deep knee bends. All was remarkably good. I was ready for anything.

  We had left Jeb to manage the she-wolves and the one remaining man left alive. I didn't have to tell the ex-torturer from Guantanamo Bay I wanted information badly and when I had it, the human assassin was as good as dead. I wanted that death right then as a matter of fact. The sense of impending danger prickled over the back of my neck and refused to let go. Best we be done with the bastard and not look back, information or not.

  Suitably dressed, I picked my way down the hall to the main room, expecting Jeb to be crouching over the captive. When all I saw was the scrawny girl from earlier sitting in a chair with a magazine and the captive stretched out on his back next to her on the floor, with his hands and feet in the air like an upended crab, I struck the back of the magazine with the edge of my hand. The tru
ssed up invader stared up at me with a hollow-eyed look. It was all I had in me to just chew my lip and not kick him bloody. I snarled at him but directed my attention to the girl in the chair. A new girl here. I'd not seen her before today. In all fairness though, I'd not visited Dara in a couple of weeks. I felt a tingle of guilt ride my nerves. Maybe if I had, I'd have been able to prevent this attack, maybe find some way to make the place less vulnerable.

  "Where did Jeb go?" I asked the girl. She blinked once before she spoke. Those long skinny legs of hers stretched out lazily into the air, and her bare toes spread out as she rolled her head to look at me.

  "He's with Olanna," she said, and the tone of her voice seemed to indicate that she thought Olanna was some sort of rival for me. Women in any state were all the same. No doubt this scrawny girl had taken one look at my well-toned form and the features that most people called beautiful, and decided she didn't like me. Any rival would make her happy. She was obviously very new if she didn't recognize Olanna was Jeb's sister.

  I took the magazine from her and tucked it beneath my arm. "I don't know you," I said.

  The scrawny girl cocked her head at me and finally stuck her hand out from the depths of the chair. When I reached for hers, she gripped my forearm, slipping her hand passed my wrist and wrapped it around my elbow in the ancient handshake that was one of packs and not of humans. I wondered which clan she belonged to before she had fled it and ended up here.

  "I'm Jennifer," she said.

  "Well, Jennifer, I'm Shana, and I'd like to know where Jeb is, and why he left this sack of shit in your inattentive care."

  She blinked at me before she responded. "Well, Shana," she said in a higher pitched version of my own tone. "I don't babysit humans so I couldn't tell you where he is."

  Either fearless or stupid, this girl, to challenge her alpha that way. I decided stupid was the proper thing to assume since I had stinkier fish to fry at the moment.

  "Just tell me where Olanna is," I said, hearing in my own voice a note of careful patience that I didn't feel and that she didn't deserve. It didn't help that I could have sworn the man at my feet chuckled. I glared down at him and he gave me back that baleful stare.

  Not one ounce of hatred or murderous intent. Instead, a slack face with glazed over, drugged eyes. I wondered if he'd got high before he came here, thinking killing could be a way to boost his endorphins.

  I knew my mouth twitched. Hell, my fist clenched. And I knew he saw it. He blinked damn him. He blinked and then he closed his eyes as though he was in a position to have a nice nap. I drew in a bracing breath as I tried to keep my temper. He should be terrified of me.

  "Listen, Jennifer." I pulled the paper from beneath my arm and slapped her shoulder with it because I was filled with unquenched need for vengeance and she was irritatingly accommodating about her prejudices. "I'm not sure you know that this house is under my protection. Mine and Jeb's so you will babysit who I say you will babysit."

  She would know the meaning in the words. If she wanted to stay, she'd recognize the alpha role or she would leave. Simple.

  Her tone shifted alright. I was pleased to hear it, but I wasn't fool enough to believe it was authentic.

  "Your human is out back in the garden with Olanna," she said. "She took over weeding when Rena started training us."

  The way she said it, like Jeb was a pet who had just done something useful by chance, even after he'd just helped me save her shaggy ass, made my fists clench at my sides. I couldn't help the low growl that escaped me. If she heard it too, she didn't respond.

  "Careful," I said but she just blinked at me. The man at my feet rolled over onto his side and drooled onto the floor. I kicked him in the stomach for his trouble and glared down at him.

  It felt good. Too good, and not good enough. I thought of the pitiful little shifter who was even now struggling to change so she could heal the belly wound his comrades had inflicted, and I brought my boot down hard on his face in a way that made his nose crunch beneath the force. He sagged sideways with his nose bleeding and broken when I lifted my foot. Passed out from the pain. Good. I turned to Jennifer, brow cocked.

  "Now," I said to her. "You want to say anything about my choice of mate?"

  The way her face looked, I knew she wanted to argue, but she didn't. Bigotry was a thing that typically ran deeper than intelligence but this time, fear let the bigotry ride. As much as I hated to admit it, I understood it. We'd been hunted for so long, it was to be expected. She hated humans the way the huntsman at my feet hated us.

  She waved her hand in front of her face the way a slave might, but she said nothing to indicate she was parodying the motion. Her narrow blue eyes sizzled with the words she was keeping stuffed beneath her tongue.

  I might have addressed her impertinence but there were more important things here to worry about. Starting with the fact that Rena had begun to train the women without my consent and had given up gardening. That was odd. Rena was the one who enjoyed the garden. And what did she know about fighting that she thought these wolves needed training for? Some part of that rankled. If any training was to be done, I would have ordered it. I spun on my heel, throwing back orders over my shoulder that the humans should be taken care of. If there were holes to be dug, I would send some men from my pack to do so. In the meantime, they needed to drag the bodies out of sight just in case some humans did come by for some reason. The place was remote, but I wasn't one to leave a body hanging about to be found by a wayward human, let alone four of them.

  I twisted just enough that I could catch Jennifer's eye and inform her I wanted her to take care of that while I went around back to find Jeb. She nodded with quiet acquiescence and I grunted in satisfaction. Just the rest of it to deal with it now. Every bit of my anatomy felt twisted into an ever fraying knot as I rounded the house. I had a hard time shaking the sense of dread that had come over me as considered the scope of the situation. Someone wanted to kill that young wolf so bad, they were ready to take down whoever got in their way. Yet, they didn't quite seem focused. Deadly, yes. Determined, yes, but not with pinprick optics. It was as though finding a den of wolves had surprised them and that they had relinquished their original intent, happy to see they could round up more than just the one girl. That didn't sit well with me. Nor did the young wolf's comment when she heard I was from Beo pack.

  The tightening of my chest eased somewhat when I saw Jeb sitting on a cement bench that had been placed there some time from when I'd been here earlier until now. Next to him sat a woman that looked very much like him. The features were commanding enough in profile, but when she turned to look at me, I could see those same crystalline eyes of Jeb's that made my heart thump each time I looked into them. I'd met her plenty of times before, but every time I caught sight of her, it was with the same stomach-churning shock. She was gorgeous. Far more beautiful than any human woman I had ever met. I wondered, not for the first time if Caleb had turned her for any other reason besides to bait Jeb. But she had never talked of her time imprisoned with him. She wouldn't speak of it at all and despite Jeb's constant inquiries, she kept the history of it to herself. The only person who shared that secret was Lynden, and I refused to pump him for his story, afraid of what I might hear or bring back to his mind when he was doing so well.

  Olanna rose from the bench when she saw me and a smile spread across her face.

  "Thank god you're here," she said. "I don't know what happened. They just sort of swooped down on us."

  She fanned herself with a willowy hand. While Jeb was militant in every one of his actions, the command of her own deportment was more subtle. I had the feeling if she needed to be she would fierce, but over the years that commanding part of her own nature had settled into something more covert. She would use her ferocity for things other than fighting. I was willing to bet that if she stayed a wolf, she would bond with only the most ferocious of our kind and then would go on to bend him to her will. That wouldn't happen, however. I could
sense that the virus she had sustained from Caleb's bite was already waning. She smelled more human than lupine.

  I settled on the ground in front of Jeb, pulling my boot off to retrieve a pebble that had wormed its way between my toes. "What did you find out?"

  He shrugged. "It's just like Olanna said. They just swooped in from the woods."

  "But after the girl, right?"

  Olanna turned her bright eyes on me. "Oh yes. The girl came tearing across the grounds on a full run. Sloppy and almost awkward, but it was as fast as she could go, I could see that. I was in the garden, crouched down over the sage bush, pulling weeds. I saw her. I think she must have been very hurt. She didn't run like most wolves I've seen." She leaned back a bit as though she were imagining it again.

  "Well, she's hurt, alright, but that's not all. She's deformed," I said, and as I did, I had had the feeling I understood why she was alone and without a pack. No doubt, her pack, revolted by her twisted foot and runted stature, ended up running her off. I wondered how long she'd been rogue. She certainly looked hungry and malnourished. Even if it explained why she was rogue, it didn't explain why human men were chasing her and wanted her dead. Nor did it explain what she'd said to me.

  I turned to Jeb with the earlier tightness rising again in my chest. "She told me something," I said to him and noted the unevenness in my voice. "She said, 'she tried to help but that he's dead.'"

  Jeb's blue eyes bored into mine, reading the panic in my own, but obviously deciding to favor reason over instinct because he merely ran a palm down my arm. "He meaning who?" he said.

  I didn't need to answer for him to interpret what he saw behind my eyes. He touched me softly on the chin with his thumb.

  "He could be anybody," he said, "We don't know the girl."

  "That's what Rena said."

  As usual when he didn't want me to know what he was thinking, he kept his face carefully guarded. "Rena is right. It doesn't mean it's Lynden."

  "I need to know," I said. "And I can't wait any longer for her to wake up so I can find out." I pulled my boot on. The horrific time with Caleb had set my hackles up nearly permanently. Every threat that presented itself might as well have been against my family. My pack. My brother. I had let my guard down once. I wouldn't do it again.