Dire Wants

by Stephanie Tyler

  Cain looked in the mirror. “He said he wasn’t ready to deal with you yet.”

  Kill laughed. “He’s too ready; that’s the problem. And since when do you allow Weres to get mouthy?”

  “Since I respect Cain a hell of a lot more than you,” Jinx told the wolf with a calm he didn’t feel.

  Killian snorted but remained quiet as they drove back to the house, Cain taking the back way into the underground garage, even though there were no cops or Weres in sight.

  When Cain parked next to some Harleys, Jinx got out and went to the stairway, not bothering to ask Killian to follow him. If the wolf knew what was good for him, he would.

  When he reached the kitchen, he noted that Gwen and Rifter had been in the final stages of cleanup when they’d gotten … distracted. There were garbage bags everywhere and most everything had been swept up or repaired.

  “We’re back,” he said, hating to interrupt the embrace. Rifter didn’t look bothered by the intimate position they’d been found in, but Gwen did blush a little. She was still getting used to her wolf.

  Cain and then Killian walked in behind him, which gave Rifter enough time to pull off Gwen and for her to turn to the sink.

  “Killian, I’m Rifter, King of the Dire Clan.” Rifter stood and surveyed the newest Dire, who was slightly taller than Jinx.

  “Rifter, I need a damned drink,” Killian told him. Jinx grabbed the wolf by the back of the neck and slammed him into a chair.

  “Cain, get our guest some whiskey,” Rifter said, with a nod of approval at Killian. Cain poured a glass and left the bottle on the table next to Killian.

  “Where’s Stray?” Vice asked, walking into the kitchen. Jinx knew this wouldn’t end well.

  “My brother’s not ready for our family reunion,” Kill said, drained his shot and took another. Vice’s wolf remained barely contained. “Can’t say I blame him, but I feel like the pup should’ve grown some balls by now.”

  Vice went for him, but Rifter growled, “Down, Vice,” before he pinned Killian to the floor himself. “You will have respect for my pack.”

  Kill put his hands up—a mock surrender, but at least he wasn’t fighting. His wolf remained oddly tame.

  When Rifter backed off, Killian picked himself up and drank more.

  “You were supposed to come into town with stealth,” Rifter told him.

  “Didn’t know that was part of the plan.”

  “It’s part of any wolf’s plan. It’s called survival.”

  Kill snorted and pointed to himself. “You haven’t all figured out that for us, that part’s pretty damned easy?”

  “Surviving well isn’t easy at all,” Vice broke in.

  “And you wolves look like you certainly have it tough.”

  Rifter stared him down, but Killian was unrepentant. Jinx knew Rifter would cut the Dire a little slack—living alone for so long, it was hard to get back into the pack mentality. But Killian had better do it and fast.

  “Let’s talk strategy,” Rifter said. “You’re willing to help us, correct?”

  “Wouldn’t have made the trip if I wasn’t. Who are we taking down?”

  Rifter slid a glance toward Jinx and then back to Killian. “Trappers.”

  Jinx agreed silently with Rifter that now wasn’t the time to bring up the Dire ghost army. You couldn’t shift a ghost’s or spirit’s thoughts, so Kill wouldn’t be any help on that front anyway.

  “I’ll be glad to help eradicate those fuckers,” Kill told Rifter. “But Stray needs to talk to me first. I can plant whatever shit you want me to inside their heads, but if I don’t know what’s already in there, it will backfire. We’ve got to be in sync, and that shit just doesn’t happen.”

  “I hear you, Killian,” Rifter told him. “But get one thing straight—you will not use a single ability or leave this house unattended unless I give the say-so.”

  “I surrender myself to the king.” He held up a glass. “To my Dire brothers, who’ve welcomed me with such open arms.”

  “For the love of Odin, this is going to be a long week,” Vice muttered.

  *

  It had taken Killian forty-eight hours to arrive in the Catskills, another ten to party and get himself arrested and subsequently freed, and now he was inside the Dire mansion.

  Stray’s senses tingled and felt like fire skittering along his skin. Brother Wolf alternately pushed him toward and shied away from the man who both saved and destroyed him in one fell swoop.

  If they hadn’t been together the night Stray shifted, maybe their abilities wouldn’t be able to work together. But it was way too late for Monday-morning quarterbacking.

  “I don’t want this power,” he murmured, but his body, his mind refused to listen. His ability was meant to work with Killian’s, had been waiting, none too patiently, to grow to its full potential. Stray wasn’t all that sure what it would entail beyond completely manipulating someone’s thoughts.

  Stray understood Kate’s fear all too well. And yet he’d been such a damned asshole to her, not caring about her plight.

  He knew her nightmares. Soon she would know his as well.

  He stripped and shifted, letting Brother Wolf take the reins. His wolf could hear Killian talking to the Dires without the confusion of everyone else’s thoughts.

  Since his confession, he’d been pushing down his ability when he was around the Dires, not wanting to hear any of his brothers thinking about how Stray had deceived them.

  They haven’t treated you any different.

  And even though he had enough faith in them that they’d tell him how they really felt, he understood Kate’s reluctance to read people’s minds.

  Understood her … and liked her.

  She was sleeping—and dreaming. Of him. Of the way he’d kissed her earlier. He moved into the room next door to hers, sat on the bed and unzipped his jeans. His cock throbbed for her—he’d been half hard since he’d met her, with no relief in sight.

  While she dreamed of him stripping her, suckling her nipples, entering her, he stroked himself to completion, coming with a short howl he was unable to hold back.

  It wasn’t enough. He had a feeling that it was never going to be enough until he was skin to skin with Kate.

  Chapter 17

  Kate woke to darkness outside and a small sliver of light coming from the bathroom. One of the witchcraft books was balanced on her chest and her head wasn’t pounding any longer. Just the fact that she’d been able to actually sleep … well, it had to be because of her connection with Stray.

  Stray, whom she now heard pacing outside the door. Faster steps, then they’d stop and start again, and she threw the book down and tried to center herself.

  You can do this. You have to know for sure.

  She got up and stared out the window at the moonlight. Her fingers tingled, itched to sketch, but she didn’t see any paper or pencils in the room. She was sure Stray would bring her some, but until she got their relationship figured out, she wasn’t asking for anything.

  Speaking of their relationship, her subconscious had obviously worked several things out, her more-than-vivid dream leaving her slightly sweaty and wet between her legs. In her dream, he’d finished what he’d started in the basement, didn’t move away and pull the prey instincts card.

  She’d almost come in her dreams, but she’d startled and woke when a howl distracted her.

  A howl.

  You’re living with wolves now.

  God, could it get any crazier? She was even more off balance than she’d been before sleeping, and the odd feeling that had lodged in the pit of her stomach from the moment she’d laid eyes on Stray got stronger.

  She went into the large bathroom and found that, at some point, Stray had left her more clothing, this time more size-friendly, and various shampoos and soaps. She stripped quickly and got into the large tiled shower with the water blasting her from all sides, along with the rain showerhead from above, and thought about how much everythi
ng had changed in what seemed like an instant.

  Actually, everything had changed ten years ago. She just hadn’t realized how much.

  Stray’s scent lingered on her skin, was somehow stronger now in the steam of the shower, and she breathed it in deeply. It circled her like an embrace. She wondered if that was the reason she’d finally slept—and slept well.

  Or maybe it had to do with the fact that her body and mind had collapsed under the weight of everything she’d learned over the past hours.

  Witch. Wolf.

  She swallowed hard and tried to erase the memory of Stray’s kiss. Touched her lips, which were still tender.

  You dreamt of me.

  Stray’s voice in her head and her dream came racing back to her, making her incredibly turned on again.

  She could only read his mind when he let her. Suddenly, he was.

  Touch yourself for me, he told her. Her arousal flared. I’m stroking my own cock, thinking about you.

  Thought you said it was just your prey instinct.

  I don’t care what it is … feels amazing. Touch yourself and pretend it’s me, he demanded. And, as if she couldn’t deny him, she did, stroked her wet folds, closed her eyes and pictured Stray watching her, wanting her.

  “Please,” she heard herself call out, and she didn’t know what she was asking for. Her face heated with embarrassment even as Stray urged, Say my name as you’re making yourself come.

  And she was helpless not to do as he asked. The only thing that made it more intense was that he was calling her name as his orgasm pushed him over the edge. Her body vibrated as his did, their voices mingled inside her head until she couldn’t tell them apart any longer.

  As she caught her breath, she listened for him again, but it was completely silent.

  He’d closed her out again, and all she could do was smile.

  Prey instincts, my ass.

  *

  When she finished, she dressed quickly, towel dried her hair and swept it into one long, loose braid that hung halfway down her back. With steely determination, she went back to the bed, sat down and relaxed. And then she called for her familiar—her protector.

  A witch always needs her familiar to watch over her.

  She resisted stopping, despite the odd feeling, like maybe she was doing something wrong. When she called out for her familiar, the animal would be bound to protect her. According to lore, each witch’s familiar was already chosen for her—all she had to do was call to it and it would come to help her.

  She tried. Heard Stray’s pacing outside the door get more frantic. She looked around, hoping to see a cat, a bird … anything but what she suspected to be true.

  And then Stray burst in without knocking. “Hey, sorry. It’s just … I thought you called for me.”

  “I ah … Shit.” She swallowed hard, blushed as she thought of the way she’d followed his commands. Thank goodness he could only read her mind and hadn’t been able to watch her touching herself. Although the thought of him doing that … “I guess I did call you.”

  He must’ve suspected, although there was a slight wince on his face after she confirmed it.

  “I was just … practicing,” she explained. “Trying to see if this was all real.”

  He still didn’t say anything, but a muscle in his jaw twitched. And then behind him were two large men, just as tall and broad and handsome as Stray but in different ways.

  “I’m Stray’s brother, Rifter,” the dark-haired one said. “This is Vice.”

  She had a visceral reaction to the very blond, spiky-haired man covered in tattoos and piercings, but strangely enough, her body was responding to Stray. Again.

  He moved close to her even though she hadn’t spoken a word out loud. Vice whistled low, muttered something under his breath about pets.

  “You keep calling, and I keep coming when you do,” Stray said.

  “You can’t be my familiar. Only animals are familiars,” she protested. Vice snorted. Rifter turned away.

  Stray blanched visibly. “I guess you followed through on your threat.”

  “What? Wait … You think I did this on purpose? It’s the last thing I wanted.”

  “Right, because you want nothing to do with me. Got it, loud and clear. But in the process of screwing me, you’ve screwed yourself by bonding us together.”

  “Let’s all calm down and deal with this,” Rifter commanded. Kate watched Stray bite back anything else he wanted to say and instead nod his head in deference.

  “He’s not an animal,” she persisted. “I mean, he’s—you’re in human form, right? You look as human as me.”

  “Sweetheart, you’re all witch. There’s nothing human about you or me,” Stray told her before stripping the sweats off.

  She didn’t understand why he was choosing this moment to get buck naked in front of her, but before she could process anything, it was a blur of man and limbs. A low growl emanated from the spot of chaos and then Stray was gone.

  In his place was a large, shaggy black wolf. And it had the same color eyes as Stray, but they were most definitely lupine, almost as if they were glowing. Otherworldly.

  *

  Rifter caught her when she fell. Vice stepped between them when Stray growled at him.

  “Dude, you’re the one who went all wolf,” he told Stray. Brother Wolf agreed. But hell, now that Kate understood that all the supernatural shit wasn’t bullshit, why not go all the way?

  Besides, she’d already seen him as wolf. Who’d have thought she’d go nuts the second time?

  “I’m going to kill you for doing that,” Rifter told him as he brought Kate into the living room and laid her on the couch before attempting to rouse her. But Stray didn’t shift back—pawed over and nosed her until she stirred. She opened her eyes and jumped back a little.

  He didn’t back away, forced her to look directly at him, to understand as best she could just what kind of shit she was dealing with. He rubbed his head against her arm until she touched him.

  Brother Wolf liked the caress a little too much.

  She looked around, a little embarrassed. “I didn’t see it happen the first time. It didn’t seem real until right now.”

  Rifter cleared his throat. “It’s intense the first couple of times.”

  “Are you really all … werewolves?”

  Fuck no. Brother Wolf growled and she took her hand away for a second. Stray took a few steps back and shifted. “I’m a Dire wolf.”

  “And there’s a difference?”

  “A big one.”

  “I never thought when I was asking for my familiar that it would be a wolf. I thought, maybe a nice cat.”

  She stopped talking when she heard the low growl vibrating from Vice’s throat.

  “We, ah, can’t keep cats around,” Rifter told her.

  “Oh, well.” She didn’t know what else to say. What else was there to say?

  She had a man—a wolf—as her familiar. And Stray was nobody’s pet.

  Maybe this was some kind of horrible Little Red Riding Hood dream. Then again, her dreams never really worked out all that well for her. Maybe sticking to reality, no matter how crazy it made her feel, was the best bet.

  Stray turned to his brothers and asked, “Can you give us some privacy? We’ve got a lot more to cover.”

  They quickly complied and in seconds it was the two of them. Stray put on the jeans, not the shirt, and she couldn’t stop staring at him. She was attracted to him—there was no denying it.

  But she needed answers as well.

  Chapter 18

  The intimacy they’d shared in the shower was still there, somehow, rising between them like the steam had earlier. She hadn’t been disgusted by the wolf, just startled by the sudden transformation.

  He wasn’t apologizing for it, or for anything concerning Brother Wolf. Not to a witch.

  Brother Wolf howled happily to the first part and ended on a growl with the second, albeit a confused one. Witch or not,
they both wanted her. “Ask your questions.”

  Kate did. “Earlier, you said the witch who touched me wanted to die. Why?”

  Stray paused, then decided that the truth was the only option. “She knew there were powerful people ready to use her powers for evil purposes and she was tired of fighting. If she didn’t pass on her powers, she couldn’t die. She figured you wouldn’t ever be found.”

  “So how was I?”

  “Shimmin’s been watching you. He must know about the mark, maybe because of Seb. He’s a witch—used to be one of Rifter’s best friends until he went over to the dark side, literally. Now he’s working against us.”

  Her eyes flashed with palpable anger. Kate didn’t like being played and she wasn’t afraid to show those feelings. “What would Shimmin have done to me?”

  “If he’d captured you, he’d force you to do horrible things for the weretrappers.”

  “You know that for sure?”

  “They’re already doing it to Seb.”

  “So now I know what they’ll do to me. Now, what will you do to me?”

  “Protect you. Me and my brothers.”

  “How do you know Leo Shimmin’s been after me for a while?” she asked.

  “This.” He knelt, touched the four deep vertical scars on her calf, and she pulled back.

  “I don’t remember the attack.”

  Didn’t remember, or didn’t want to. “A wolf attacked you.”

  She stared at him, swallowed hard. “One of your kind?”

  “The marks would be bigger if a Dire had done this. And you never would’ve survived.” Her eyes registered shock from his words as her fingers unconsciously rubbed the scar. “It was what we call a Were, and we have every reason to believe it was sent by Leo Shimmin or his brother, Mars. Did it try to touch your back?”

  She closed her eyes, shook her head a little like she was trying to push the memory back and failing. “I think … yes. It hurt when he touched it. It didn’t feel anything like when you touch me.”

  Holy hell. Her eyes shone when she looked at him and his hand fisted at his side instead of reaching out to hold her. “I’m glad you can feel the difference. We—neither Dires nor Weres—don’t hunt humans. Or witches, typically.”