Night Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  Lara shuddered, her eyes flashing crimson and slowly fading to wolf-amber. Sylvan loosened her grasp and Lara panted and shook. Slowly, her body settled into its normal shape. “What happened? I don’t remember—Alpha?”

  “Your wolf wants out of here. So do I,” Sylvan said, letting her go. She’d worry later about what she’d just witnessed. “Now help me push this damn hunk of steel out of our way.”

  Sylvan gathered all her strength, and this time when they shouldered upward, the girder shifted another inch. The murky darkness seemed to lighten. Sylvan caught a scent of fresh air, the first smoke-free breath she’d had in what felt like hours. The gray veil that had fallen over her since the explosion began to lift. The effect of the silver that had weakened her and dulled her senses was dissipating. She heard the breeze rustling through the trees, scented life coursing through the forest. Her skin tingled and every sense sharpened. Her wolf sprang up, alert and searching. Drake! Drake was nearby. Sylvan’s wolf tore at her insides in a frenzy.

  “Drake,” Sylvan roared. “No! Go back.”

  “Sylvan? Sylvan!” Drake’s voice rose in triumph and joy. “Sylvan, we’re almost to you. Are you hurt? Sylvan!”

  “Go back,” Sylvan shouted furiously. “We’ll get out. You’re not safe here.”

  “I’ll leave as soon as you’re free.”

  “They’re only a few feet away,” Lara said. “Drake and Rafe.”

  Sylvan said, “You feel them both?”

  Lara nodded. “Yes.”

  “Just above us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Drake,” Sylvan called, “wait where you are until we move this last obstacle. The stairwell might collapse. You need to be clear.”

  “Go slowly,” Drake said. “We’ve braced the walls above you as best we can. We’ll keep bracing from our side.”

  “Damn it, Drake—”

  “Don’t waste time, Sylvan. I’m not leaving you.”

  “Just be careful.” Sylvan glanced at Lara. “This may all come down on our heads when we shift this last beam out of the way.”

  Lara grinned. “Then I guess we’ll find out which one of us can jump the farthest. Are you up for a challenge, Alpha?”

  Sylvan growled and peered at the specks of sky showing through the chinks in the barrier above her. She scented Drake, felt the heartbeats of her young echo in her chest. She pressed her bruised and bleeding shoulders against the jagged steel and called upon the will and strength of her wolf. “Be careful what you ask for, Warlord. Now let me see how strong you really are.”

  Her breath turned to fire in her chest, her muscles stretched and tore from her bones, her consciousness narrowed until all she knew was pain and fury and the mad need to reach her mate. Metal screamed, stone cracked and shattered, and a torrent of rock rained down on them.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Sophia knocked softly on the door to Gray and Katya’s room. They were physically well enough to return to the barracks, but neither seemed eager to leave the infirmary, and that worried her. It wasn’t natural for any Were to choose to be separate from the rest of the Pack, but particularly not the adolescents. Very young Weres slept together in the nursery in a jumble, often four or six in a bed, many shifting involuntarily in their sleep. The presence of warm, familiar bodies and comforting scents helped dispel the sometimes disorienting effect of waking as a wolf. As they grew older and learned to control their shifts, adolescents were consumed with defining their places in the Pack hierarchy, forming intense friendships with Weres of both sexes—tussling, tangling, assessing potential mates. Katya and Gray had both spent time in sentrie training, where they’d lived, eaten, worked, and slept with their Packmates in the barracks. For them to want to stay alone now wasn’t healthy.

  Sophia knocked again. They would know it was her by her scent, but she wouldn’t intrude without permission. They’d had too much of that in the last weeks.

  Gray rumbled, “Come in.”

  “Have a good run?” Sophia asked. The room was lit by silvery moonlight streaming through the open window, and Gray, naked except for a pair of jeans, seemed wary and distrustful. She occupied her usual position with her back against the wall, watching the door, putting herself between Katya and any potential threat. Katya, in a black T-shirt and camo BDUs, lay curled up on top of her cot, her arms wrapped around the pillow and her knees drawn up to her midsection. She looked small and wounded, and Sophia’s heart wept.

  “Callan called us back before we got very far.” Gray’s eyes glimmered gold, her wolf prowling, restless. “Then we heard the alarm. We can fight. We’re ready.”

  “There’s no fight yet,” Sophia said, considering how much to tell them. She ached to protect them, but that time had passed. “Niki has a captive—a human. We don’t know very much about him, but he says that he knows you. From the lab.”

  Katya gasped and Gray leapt to her feet, snarling.

  “The Alpha isn’t here right now, but it’s possible she’ll want you to see him.” Sophia spoke calmly, ignoring that Gray was on the verge of shifting. Gray was volatile, barely in control, but she had to be given the chance to control herself. Gray had to know that she and her wolf were one, as they always had been, and the Pack trusted her. “I know you don’t remember much about the humans who held you, and that’s okay.”

  “Only broken memories,” Katya murmured. She sat up, her arms tightly folded around her middle, and glanced at Gray. “What does the Alpha need us to do?”

  “Niki is talking to him now. If you see him, you may remember more.” Sophia saw no point in saying the Alpha was missing. The Alpha would return. Any other possibility was unthinkable. “How do you feel about that?”

  “We’ll do whatever the Alpha needs,” Gray said.

  “I know you will.” Sophia smiled softly. “But I want to know how you feel about doing it.”

  “What does it matter how we feel?” Gray growled. “We’re warriors. We follow the Alpha’s command.”

  “Do you think she doesn’t care how you feel? That I don’t care?”

  “We don’t care about feelings,” Katya said flatly, sounding bitter but stronger than she had before.

  “They hurt you,” Sophia said to Katya. “We know that. We all hurt for you.”

  “Don’t,” Katya said. “We don’t want you to pity us.”

  “Pity is not the same as love.” Sophia wanted to gather them both up—to soothe them, heal them. Their shame and sorrow and guilt choked her, and they were so wrong. They were so heartbreakingly brave. But they did not need her tears. “The Alpha will decide what to do with him. And I know you will do what she asks.”

  “Where did she go?” Katya asked.

  The Pack had few secrets, living as they did in intense community, aware of each other’s impulses and desires and needs. Sophia didn’t ordinarily discuss battle plans with adolescents, but these weren’t just any adolescents. These were two young wolves who were no longer young in anything except years, already seasoned in the worst kind of battle. They needed honesty and respect. “The Alpha went back to the installation where you were held. There may be other captives.”

  Katya whined, an anguished cry caught in her throat. “No. The Alpha wouldn’t have left anyone.”

  “We can’t be sure. They could be hidden in some other part of the installation. Your captors found a way to prevent the Alpha from sensing you.”

  Gray shuddered and her eyes glazed. “I couldn’t feel the Alpha—couldn’t feel the Pack. The air was…wrong. Stinging, bitter.”

  “They poisoned you.”

  “I should’ve gone back with them tonight,” Gray said. “I remember…some things. Places they took us. I might have helped.”

  “Do you remember a human—a big man with long brown hair and dark eyes?”

  Gray shook her head, pacing back and forth in front of her narrow bed. “Faces. I can’t see the faces.”

  “You will, you’re doing fine.”

 
; “I killed one. I remember his blood in my mouth.” Gray looked at Sophia, questions in her tormented eyes.

  “Yes, you did,” Sophia said. “Any one of us would have done the same. There’s no shame in that.”

  “I still want to kill them.”

  “Of course you do. So do we. All of them.” Sophia cupped Gray’s face. Gray went very still, but did not pull away. Sophia stroked her thumb over the sharp edge of Gray’s cheekbone, brushed the hair from her eyes. “What you feel is important. What you do about what you feel is what defines you. That’s up to you, Gray. I trust you. We all do.”

  “I remember scents, touches. Pain, I remember pain, and—” Gray abruptly snarled so violently, Sophia nearly growled a warning. She wasn’t dominant, but her wolf instinctively responded to the threat. Sophia calmed her wolf, waiting for Gray to settle. She’d sensed a surge of rage and, unexpectedly, excitement. Whatever Gray remembered had aroused her.

  “I want to see him,” Gray said, a low heavy, rumble in her voice. Her eyes shimmered gold again and her canines jutted from behind her full upper lip. Pheromones clouded the air. Gray was a mature young dominant, and Sophia was in heat.

  Sophia backed up a step. “No, Gray. Not now.”

  Gray snarled. Her face grew sharper, her skin shimmering with sex-sheen.

  “Listen to me,” Sophia said gently, “I don’t want you to answer my call.”

  “I don’t care.” Gray stepped closer, her pelt line flaring. She was fiercely beautiful, potent and primed. Sophia walked a fine line between continuing to stimulate her if she stayed, encouraging her by her very presence, and risking further injury to Gray’s self-esteem by denying her the opportunity to restrain her wolf. She wasn’t even certain Gray could contain her urges, but she needed to give her the chance. Softly, she said, “You know the rules. My choice who answers my call.”

  Gray shuddered and panted.

  Sophia suddenly heated, skin tingling as if she’d been electrified, and her body quickened. Her need surged, fed by the flood of neurostimulants set off by the Were bearing down on them. Niki was coming. Sophia sensed her from across the courtyard. Niki stormed closer, possessive and aggressive. If she burst in on them now, Gray would attack and Niki would probably kill her. Sophia reached inside herself, projected her thoughts, never questioning if she could reach Niki.

  I’m all right. Don’t hurt her.

  She challenges.

  No. No, she doesn’t. Niki, don’t hurt her.

  The door behind her banged open and Sophia spun around. Niki stood framed by the golden glow of the lights in the hall behind her. Her hair shimmered like fire and her green eyes glowed as hot as embers. Her chest was bare, breasts tight-nippled, her heavy pelt line bisecting her rigid abdomen. Her claws were down, her canines extruded. She dripped sex and adrenaline.

  “Mine,” Niki growled.

  Gray’s head snapped up and a rumble rose from her throat.

  Niki, wait. Please.

  Behind her, Niki growled again, a tone so dangerous and so primal Sophia wanted to be under her, her teeth buried in Niki’s throat, Niki buried inside her. She fought for control, fought to project calm. Her wolf howled for release, to mate.

  “Gray,” Sophia murmured, holding her place between the two of them. “Gray, I choose Niki.”

  Gray’s pelt rolled beneath her skin, her jaw elongated, her eyes angled. She shimmered and started to shift.

  “Gray,” Niki snapped. “Hold your wolf. We need you here.”

  Sophia held her breath, watching Gray struggle to obey the Pack imperator.

  Gray sucked in a shuddering breath and her wolf receded. Softly, she whispered, “Yes, Imperator.”

  “Next time, mind your place, whelp.” Niki came up behind Sophia and wrapped an arm around Sophia’s waist, pulling Sophia back against her chest. Heat poured from Niki’s bare torso through Sophia’s body as if they were skin to skin.

  Thank you. Sophia arched her back, exposing her neck, and Niki grazed her throat with her canines.

  I won’t be so generous again.

  Sophia knew Gray was watching, knew she needed to be reminded of one of the most basic rules of the Pack—a female always chose who answered her call. Her mind assessed her patient’s welfare, but her body surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of Niki’s hands on her. Her breasts tingled, her belly rolled with need, and her clitoris expanded. She rocked her hips into Niki’s crotch, inviting her to take more. Try as she might, she could not resist the need roaring through her.

  “Sophia is mine,” Niki said to Gray, running both hands up and down Sophia’s body. She pulled Sophia’s shirt from the waistband of her pants and slid her hand underneath. “Remember that.”

  “Yes, Imperator.” Gray backed up until her legs hit the bed, and she sat, her hands between her knees, her eyes lowered focus somewhere between them.

  Sophia reached behind Niki’s head and ran her fingers through Niki’s hair, turning her head to bite her on the jaw. “She didn’t touch me.”

  Niki kissed her. “If she had, she’d be bleeding on the floor under me right now.”

  “You claim rights you don’t have.”

  “Then give them to me.” Niki spread her hand over Sophia’s lower abdomen, her claws pressing into Sophia’s belly. Her teeth penetrated Sophia’s shoulder as quick as lightning, and Sophia’s sex readied.

  She couldn’t fight her wolf and her instincts and her heart all at the same time. “Yes,” Sophia whispered. “Yes.”

  *

  Drake coughed the dust from her lungs, her heart pounding furiously. “Sylvan!”

  The rumbling of stone and screeching of shifting metal finally stopped, and she listened, willing Sylvan to answer with every ounce of her being. The silence was suffocating. Even the crackling roar of the fire ravaging the surrounding forest and the cries of terrified animals had disappeared. Wiping grit from her eyes with the back of her arm, she started down what remained of the stairs.

  “Wait,” Rafe yelled, grabbing her arm. “Let me go first.”

  “No.” Drake jerked her arm free. She’d waited long enough. Sylvan was near and nothing would stand between them now. She jumped over a gap in the cracked and canted stairwell, landing on a narrow ledge of stone that overlooked an abyss. She peered down. “Sylvan?”

  Only darkness awaited her.

  Despair, black and heavy, seeped through her like poison. The only thing keeping her from leaping into the yawning cavern in search of Sylvan was the ever-growing presence of the young she carried. She cared nothing for herself, but for them, for Sylvan’s heirs and hers, she would not take the last step. A howl rose from her chest, haunted with grief and fury. Only an echo, lonely and desolate, filled her battered soul.

  “I’m going down.” Rafe paused on the brink of the impenetrable. “If I don’t return—there’s something you should know. When we broke into the lab last night, the Vampire who was there before us was the Viceregal’s senechal. Michel.”

  Drake nodded. “Thank you. When you find them, call me.”

  “Of course.”

  “Hurry.”

  Rafe disappeared and time stopped. Drake called out again, “Sylvan?”

  She couldn’t sense her, couldn’t feel her. Every breath was a blade piercing her heart.

  “Drake,” Rafe called. “There’s a landing fifteen feet below you.”

  Instantly, Drake jumped. The blackness was absolute. Even her wolf eyes could not see what surrounded her. She extended a hand and felt rock, spikes of steel, burning wood. Her shoulder touched Rafe’s. “Do you feel—”

  “Rafe? Drake?” a disembodied voice croaked.

  “Liege!” Rafe shouted and disappeared in the direction of Jody’s voice.

  Another crack like thunder, and clouds of stone dust rose up around Drake’s feet. Rocks rolled down what must have been the remains of a hallway.

  Someone moaned. Someone close by.

  “Sylvan!” Drake dropped to her kn
ees and ran her hands over the uneven surface of the mounds of rubble. She touched warm flesh. Sylvan’s flesh. Drake heaved rocks aside, felt Sylvan move, and then Sylvan was kneeling in front of her, warm, alive. Drake gripped Sylvan’s shoulders and kissed her, desperate for the taste of her, the scent of her, the press of her flesh. Drake’s breath came in jagged rasps. Her face was wet with tears she didn’t bother to hide. Sylvan gripped her hair, kissed her with a hot, fast plunge of her tongue, bruising her mouth, drinking her. Drake opened, absorbing the ferocious power of the Alpha, her mate. Her life.

  “I thought…” Drake couldn’t touch her enough. Couldn’t form words. All she needed was Sylvan under her hands. She ran her hands over Sylvan’s face, down her neck, her shoulders. “I couldn’t feel you. Why couldn’t I—”

  “Didn’t I tell you to go?” Sylvan muttered against Drake’s mouth, unable to stop kissing her. “Will you never listen?”

  “Are you hurt?” Drake rasped her claws down Sylvan’s back. Hers again. “Sylvan, are you hurt?”

  “Nothing serious.”

  “You’re bleeding.”

  “Just cuts and scrapes. We have injured—humans.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They have fever,” Sylvan said. “They’re both in midtransition.”

  “God. What were they doing here? Where’s Lara?”

  “Here,” Lara grunted. “My arm was broken but it’s healed now. I’ll get the Liege.”

  Drake said, “The air down here is toxic. We need to get out of here.”

  Rafe and Lara crowded next to them, each with a girl in her arms.

  “These two are still alive,” Lara said. “Do you still want to take them out?”

  “Yes,” Sylvan said. “Where’s Jody?”

  “She’s…injured,” Rafe said. “I’ll go back for her.”

  “No,” Sylvan said. “Drake, go back to the surface. Lara, Rafe, take the humans up with you. Jody and I will be behind you.”