First Bite - Shifter Romance Box Set: Anthology of First in Serials and Series

by Vaughn, V.

  “Who?” She’d been so sure that their night had been the first of a lifetime. Maybe she’d been waiting so long, she couldn’t recognize the difference between love and lust. She pictured Ty again. The certainty, the devotion she’d seen in his eyes. How could there be another woman in his life?

  Audrey shrugged, “Who? That’s the million dollar question. We think it’s some tramp from over in Utah. He came back from a trip there totally smitten. Never seen a man so wrung out,” she cackled in glee before letting poison seep back into her features. “Why he doesn’t just take the woman and put us all out of our misery is a mystery.” Audrey heaved a tragic sigh, stretched, and stood in a pose that suggested she might dust her hands off and conclude with something like My work here is done.

  “You’ll get over him,” Audrey called out instead, swinging her full hips down the walkway. “We all do.”

  Reason and emotion went to war in her mind, and her wolf reared up inside, indignant. Ty is ours! Ours alone! Are you going to believe this tramp over the look in our mate’s eyes?

  She swallowed back the bile in her throat and shook her head. Ty was a man of honor who’d left her with a promise. If he’d ever been the player Audrey made him out to be, that was a thing of the past. The connection she had with Ty was all about the future. Still, there was no taking the sting out of Audrey’s words.

  She tensed as Audrey turned around for a last dig. “Maybe he’ll think of you while he fights,” the blonde offered in half-hearted consolation.

  She froze. “What do you mean?”

  Audrey shrugged in disinterest. “He’s gone off to find the rogues. Finish them off.”

  As if it were as easy as that. Lana doubted that Audrey had experience fighting anything worse than a bad hair day. A band of rogues was a deadly threat that would require the full strength of the pack.

  But wait, had Ty really left to fight without her? She pushed herself up from her chair, every muscle wound tight. He’d promised! “Where? Where did he go?”

  Audrey waved a lazy hand toward the north, unconcerned. “Somewhere in the hills.” From the looks of it, she would be perfectly happy to wait by the pool while the men did the fighting. Or worse, pack a picnic basket and watch from a safe distance, like one of those misguided southern belles who’d gone out to spectate at Civil War battles.

  A rush of heat pumped through her body. Like hell she’d be one of those women! Like hell she’d let Ty fight without her. In the space of her next two breaths, Lana pushed past Audrey, unleashed her inner wolf, and ran for the hills. For her mate, for the enemy, for whatever grain of truth she migh

  Chapter 12

  It was more than a point of pride. It was a point of honor. Lana was the one who found the rogue camp. She wanted to finish this as much as anyone else. She had a right, damn it!

  The scar on her arm flared as she ran, fast and furious in her wolf form. That rogue fight, years ago, had claimed two of her packmates’ lives. Rogues fought dirty, with the recklessness of those with nothing to lose. And while shifters were tough, they were still mortal. Lana had learned that lesson all too well. She didn’t relish a battle, but she wouldn’t shy away, either.

  But that was only half the issue. How could Ty have gone off without her? He’d promised not to! She shook her head as she ran. If Ty had lied to her about that, he could very well be lying about other things. Maybe the whole night had been a lie.

  His scent dogged her, driving her crazy with lust, love, and the first fissures of renewed heartbreak. Even as she left the valley for higher ground, his scent persisted. She paused just long enough to scratch her ear with her hind leg, annoyed. If he proved to be a deceiver, how long would it take to scrub every last trace of him away?

  She’d go back East and his scent would still be there, teasing her with what could have been. Sorority. Flavor of the month. What if she was nothing to him?

  Her footfalls only seemed to pound the misery further into her soul, yet Lana hammered onward, resolute. She’d show Ty how a Dixon could fight. She’d earn his respect, even if it meant losing his affection — if that hadn’t all been a show.

  He will be true to us! Her wolf insisted.

  Then let him prove it, her human side retorted.

  She leaped over a rabbit hole, then forced herself to mute the competing voices. A fight called for a clear head and clear tactics. So what the hell was she doing, running off without thinking things through?

  She slowed to a trot and sniffed the air, collecting her thoughts. First things first. She’d track down Ty, deal with the rogues, then deal with the rest.

  A good plan, but the dry air revealed no trace of either the alpha or the rogues. Like an amateur, she was chasing shadows. She should have followed Ty’s trail from the ranch instead of setting off on the basis of Audrey’s vague indication.

  Audrey. What if she’d been lying all along?

  She stopped altogether and turned in a slow circle, testing the air for any hint of the truth. But there was nothing, only a burning emptiness. The desert hid its secrets well.

  Water, she decided. She’d find some water, then start her search anew.

  She sniffed her way to a relic of a creek and followed it upstream, suddenly parched. She scratched at the dry creek bed, but found nothing. Farther up, maybe? She trotted uphill, then shifted to human form when she reached a thin trickle of water. She knelt and scooped a restless handful, entirely focused on the cool liquid.

  Five yards to her right, the bushes rustled, and her head whipped around. From the left came the sharp click of a snapping twig. There was a chuckle, and two men emerged from the undergrowth, one on each side.

  Her eyes went to the man on the right first. He was wiry, rugged, and wicked, like the Marlboro man gone wrong. He smiled coolly at Lana in the slanting afternoon sun, letting his gaze scrape against every inch of her exposed skin.

  She all but rolled her eyes. He had to be one of those mountain hermits who’d been out in the bush too long, smoking too much of who knows what. She could smell it on him. Unconcerned, she stretched to her full height and swung her head to the man on the left. He had the same calculating eyes, the same horny bulge in his natty jeans. His face and hair had a pale cast to them: not quite that of an albino, but close.

  She swallowed her surprise. So what if she was naked and alone? In two steps, she’d be in the cover of the bushes. A couple more and she’d shift and race away. These pathetic humans could never match her speed. Still, it had been stupid of her to let down her guard.

  Her ears twitched, picking up the sound of third man, blocking the way behind. She could sense his presence.

  “Look at what we got here, boys.” The pale one’s lips curled into a grimace of a smile, tongue poised suggestively on his lower lip. “A visitor, at last.”

  The man on the right took a step nearer, breaking into a nasty grin. “We haven’t had a visitor in quite some time.”

  Visitor? They were the trespassers here! Lana squinted against the sun and registered their strange, scratched faces and too-bright eyes for the first time. She sniffed again and felt the scar on her arm flare up. The smell of their unwashed bodies masked another scent, one she picked up too late. It was the smell of fall, of leaves left too long. Rotten, forgotten.

  Rogues. The men were the coyote rogues everyone was after. She’d found them. But where was Ty?

  There were three of them. No, four; there was another crouching just out of sight behind the trees. The hair on her spine prickled as her wolf pushed toward the surface.

  “Don’t worry,” said the pale one, “we know how to show a lady a good time.” Though he flashed a warm smile as he spoke, his voice carried the breath of an Arctic wind.

  She gulped away the bile rising in her throat. She had to think fast. Standing naked in front of these desperadoes was only egging them on. She had to shift — now. As a wolf, she’d be better equipped to fight or flee. A male coyote would be close to her wolf size; she c
ould take on one. Two would be tricky, but she could do it if need be.

  But three? Four?

  Those odds, she wouldn’t bet on. Better to run and get out before the noose tightened.

  “Hey, Yas, I call first go,” Marlboro man chuckled to the pale one — the leader.

  Yas? She’d heard that name before. The native son gone wrong. Badly wrong.

  “Save a little of her for me, boys,” Yas snickered, and they closed in.

  She was a second ahead with her transformation, and her canines ripped out the throat of the nearest one before he had a chance to react. Warm blood flooded her mouth as she leaped into the bush, spitting out the bitter rogue taste. Her paws clawed for purchase in the dirt as the bush behind her came alive with the coyotes’ excited barks. They, too, had shifted and taken up the chase.

  She fled, her mind calculating as her legs raced on. She could probably outrun these coyotes, but reinforcements would feel awfully reassuring. Ty! she screamed, pouring everything into the inner cry. If they truly were destined mates, he would hear her.

  Jesus, what a test. She listened for some answer, some sign. But there was nothing, only the drum of her feet on the hard ground and the excited yips of her pursuers. She was on her own.

  One of the coyotes was nearly upon her, and another was panting up a storm not far behind. Lana put on a burst of speed but couldn’t quite find her pace, not like she could in the woods of the east. This was a slalom course of cacti and bush with no discernible pattern. She dodged right, darted left, and sprinted ahead, but not quick enough.

  A tawny coyote cut in front of her from upslope. A fifth one? She cursed and jumped away, having no choice but to cut left, up a winding gully. She sprang over a jumble of boulders that marked a dry stream bed, then sprinted onward as the walls of the valley grew higher on both sides. Yes, that was it — she was breaking away. She hammered around a corner and up to—

  A dead end.

  She skidded to a halt, nose pointing up at impossibly steep walls. No way out there, not for a wolf, not for human. Not even for a mountain goat. She wheeled, only to find two coyotes blocking the way with a third joining them. It was through them or up the cliff.

  She turned tail and leaped for a high outcrop, clawing for a grip. She nearly had it, front paws scratching on rock, hindquarters scrambling, showering her pursuers in dirt. Every muscle in her body strained as she urged herself on. Almost there—

  Fire rocketed through her back leg and a leaden weight dragged her back. She clawed desperately at air until she landed with a slam, her shoulder smashing against a rock. When she scrambled to all fours to face them, she counted five coyotes. Or were there six? She gasped in spite of herself, then spotted more movement behind her attackers.

  Yas, still in human form, came sauntering up to them, his face alight with evil thrill.

  Seven. Seven to one. It would be a fight to the death. Her death. The fact that she would take two or three more of them with her was little consolation.

  If she’d still been in human form, she might have wailed out loud. Ty! What she wouldn’t give to have him at her side now. But that was not to be. She was alone, now more than ever.

  The coyotes circled, keeping their muzzles down and their throats covered. They were evil, not stupid. Lana did a quick calculation. She was at least as tall as them, but lighter. If they pinned her down, it would all be over. She had to stay on her feet. Her only chance was to find their weak link and somehow rip her way through.

  A coyote with a long scar across one eye lunged from the right. She sidestepped with a roar that echoed off the gully walls, then swiped at his flank. She felt the gratifying tear of flesh as the coyote screamed, his pelt torn and bleeding. Two more were on her right away, but she scattered them with a ferocious slash. They beat a hasty retreat as Yas cackled something derisive.

  She fought to control her breathing, concentrating on keeping her back to the rocks. Somehow, she had to break them down, one at a time.

  Her head went into a spin as three of the brutes charged simultaneously. She whirled, dodging one, batting the other, trying to keep an eye on the third. Somewhere in the melee, she felt claws rip into her rump, and an instant later, sharp canines punctured her outstretched paw. She lurched off balance and they immediately pounced. Growls pounded through her head as she clawed at the ground, kicking desperately. She had to get up! She had to break loose! She had to—

  She froze the instant jaws clamped over her neck, coyote canines digging to within a hair’s breadth of her jugular. It was the death hold. One squeeze and her life would gush out in a crimson deluge. She hung limp in the coyote’s jaws, twisted and powerless. The sour panting of her captor ruffled her fur, smelling of foul game and rotting flesh. The snarls resounding in her ears changed in pitch as the others moved in to join him. When one of them sniffed her rear, she let out a mighty kick but froze when the jaws around her neck pinched tighter. The message was clear. One move and she was dead.

  The coyotes began to jostle for position, howling in glee. She closed her eyes to avoid witnessing her own rape. She’d never, ever pictured it ending like this. A fighting death would be acceptable. But this?

  The coyote holding her shuffled around to make room for another who pushed at her hips. His weight was already on her, setting her torn flesh aflame. She shifted away, but two more sets of jaws bit into her, deep and hard. Three of them were holding her now, with a fourth trying to mount her. She could feel his hips thrust blindly, seeking her entrance. Another second and he’d penetrate. The same part of her body that had yawned wide to welcome Ty was now clamped hard in gritty determination, but it was only a matter of time before the coyote managed to force his way in.

  She hauled her lips back in a silent snarl. She didn’t want to imagine the pain, or worse, the degradation. No; she’d tear herself free first, even if it meant death. Better to bleed dry rather than grant them their sick pleasure. On three, her will declared.

  One.

  An image of Ty flashed through her mind, his hands giving hers a gentle squeeze before he eased himself down to her body. A tender moment so unlike the horror playing out in real time.

  Two.

  Her mind whirled through a mental slide show, and stopped at the image of Ty stepping around the bed with the lantern in his hands. That was the one she would die with, she decided, and quickly, before the beast at her rump forced his way in.

  Thr—

  The gully exploded with a thunderous roar and a shower of scattered rocks as half the slope gave way in a landslide. The hold on her neck went slack, and she scrambled away, grabbing at her chance to slip free within the chaos. She’d escaped the worst, and just in time. But what was going on? There seemed to be an entire army of gritty roars smothering the confused cries of the coyotes. Under it all, she heard the desperate beat of her heart drumming in her ears.

  Without thinking, she lunged at a tawny form in front of her. The coyote screamed, struggled in her jaws, then went silent when she gave a neck-breaking shake. She was just releasing the limp body when a massive shape flew into her view. Lana sagged in despair, trying to blink her vision clear. No way could she take on that one. It was as big as a wolf—

  It was a wolf. So huge and intense that the walls of the gully seemed to back away from him. His fur was the deepest, darkest brown. Like a creature that had sprung from the very womb of Mother Earth, possessed with a fury so great, his coat shook with it.

  Ty, like she’d never seen him before.

  I will rip you to pieces, Ty’s roar promised the cowering coyotes. And then I will rip you again.

  She wobbled as he stationed himself in front of her, his eyes aglow. She knew those eyes, that power, even though she’d never witnessed their intensity at this extreme.

  Mine! Ty roared, and the line of coyotes trembled. She did, too. She’d never seen fury like this. And she’d never felt anything like the huge lump that formed in her throat when she realized she’d be
en wrong to doubt him.

  The coyotes’ eyes darted around as they looked for a way out. Another roar answered Ty’s — a second wolf, cutting off the coyotes’ retreat. The timbre of that voice could only be Cody’s. She pulled her lips up in satisfaction. The rogues were the ones trapped now, with three wolves to five coyotes. Those odds, she could bet on.

  Ty’s eyes caught hers, warming her inner reserves. Her shoulders straightened despite the pain wracking her body.

  A voice rang out, the lone human among snarling canines. “We didn’t know she was yours!” cried Yas. Hidden in his words was a plea for his life.

  Through the sludge of her pain, she licked her cracked lips. How quickly the tables turned.

  “You should have marked her!” Yas cried, voice unsteady.

  Ty’s growl vibrated through the bedrock. He advanced on the rogue one deliberate step at a time, tail twitching murderously. Yas backed away, eyes low in a sign of submission. She forced herself forward even as a volley of fireworks shot through her back leg. She would fight beside Ty, not cower behind him. She would fight her enemies and the enemies of her pack.

  My pack. How right it sounded. Because Ty’s roar told her all she needed to hear. He loved her with all his might, and that might was the most impressive thing she’d ever witnessed. Ty was rage personified, wholly bent on revenge. Even more so the next instant, when a coyote sprang forward in mindless desperation, setting off the fight.

  The narrow space amplified the clash to a veritable battle. Her ears rang with anguished screams, grunts, and scuttling claws. She shut away her pain and snapped at a coyote trying to edge past Ty, who was tossing aside another rogue with his blood-stained jaws. Lana let loose a snarl, or tried to; the sound wasn’t coming out properly. Her vision wasn’t quite right, either, bouncing from single to double images dappled with spots.

  By the time she finished off the scarred coyote, she was swaying and dangerously close to collapse. She blinked, watching Ty take on Yas, who had shifted into a snow-white coyote. On a wolf, that coat would have been beautiful, but on Yas, it seemed all wrong. She just hoped she remained conscious long enough to see his white fur run red.