Never Cry Wolf

by Cynthia Eden

  In bed, he bet they’d be great. He couldn’t wait to have her, naked and hungry, in a big, soft bed. Or maybe out in the open, beneath his glowing moon. Either way, he would have her.

  He paused, waited for her denial.

  Sarah headed for the house. “Keep hoping, wolf.”

  Her arousal, the rich scent of woman, teased his nose. He smiled. “I will, babe, I will.”

  Chapter 3

  Waking up to find yourself in a wolf’s den wasn’t the best experience, but, hey, it was better than being dead.

  The next day, Sarah crept down the stairs, all too aware of the silence in the house. After he’d dropped his little sexual bombshell, she hadn’t spoken to Lucas again last night. She’d kept silent because, mostly, because he was right.

  She did want him. Arrogant bastard.

  She’d been thinking about him for months. Ever since she’d first seen his picture and heard the tales of the LA alpha.

  His father had been slaughtered when Lucas was ten. Killed by the leader of a rival pack who’d wanted to claim the LA territory.

  If the tales were true, and, after meeting the man, Sarah figured they had to be, Lucas had gone after his father’s killer. He’d attacked a full-grown wolf shifter, in human form—and the form of a ten-year-old boy really wasn’t that tough. Lucas had somehow survived that fight. He’d escaped death and disappeared from LA for six years.

  At sixteen, he’d come back, and the shifter who’d murdered his father had been dead within an hour of his return. In the seventeen years since, he’d been the wolf running these streets.

  So, okay, she had more than a little crush on the guy. A crush that had caused her to risk her ass when she found out he was in danger. She still couldn’t believe she’d driven all the way from Arizona to try and save him.

  Well, his life—and her own skin.

  Sarah reached the bottom of the stairs. “Hello! Lucas?” He’d better not have gone hunting without her.

  “You’re pretty in the morning.” His voice came from the right. He stepped from the kitchen, crossed his arms, and studied her. “But I think I liked the other outfit better.”

  She’d tossed on the jeans and t-shirt she’d stuffed into her travel bag. Since her goal today wasn’t seduction—not her main goal, anyway—she’d been glad to get back into her casual clothes.

  Her hands dug into her back pockets. “I—um, thought you had already left.”

  His lips curled. “I’ll be hunting soon enough.”

  Sarah didn’t doubt it.

  “Confession time, huh, sweet Sarah?”

  She nodded. They needed to talk today, to plan and to attack. Because, once night fell, she knew more coyotes would be coming after her.

  And him.

  So where should she start?

  “Tell me about the dead man.” He leaned back against the doorframe.

  All right. That was one place to start. She cleared her throat. Took a nice slow breath. He’ll know when I lie. Well, he’d know, unless she was very, very careful. “John Turner was . . . like me.”

  “A wolf charmer?”

  “He was a charmer, yes, but the coyote was his linked animal. He worked with them.” Because every charmer she’d met had a primary link. Some could pick up thoughts from a few other beasts, but one animal was always primary, with a link so strong it took no effort to form the connection.

  “Worked with?” Lucas repeated carefully.

  Ah, now she had to be very careful because “worked with” was actually a nice euphemism for John’s spy work. When the coyotes got together for their hunts with other factions, John had always been there. Pretending to be a guard, but secretly picking up the thoughts of all the coyote shifters there and reporting back to his coyote leader.

  Charmer spies were valuable commodities in the shifter world. Because when the beasts roamed free, it was so easy to discover what lies the men had been keeping.

  “The dead guy was spying on coyote packs?”

  Lucas obviously knew the score. She nodded.

  “While he was . . . working, John got word of a planned attack in LA.” No sense sugar-coating. If she hadn’t been so tired lasted night, she would have gotten all this crap out into the open then. But she’d been running on fumes and the minute she’d found the bed, one that held John’s wild scent, she’d crashed.

  It had been the first time she’d slept in the last thirty-six hours.

  “John picked up the thoughts of a coyote named Hayden. The guy wanted more power.” Hayden. She’d met the jerk a few times. Squinty eyes. Handsome face. Evil grin. “He thought if he pulled off a coup here, he could start his own faction.” And then the coyotes could take back the power they’d lost to the wolves in LA.

  “I’ve got a pact with the coyotes. They stay out of my space and I stay out of theirs.” Hard. Angry. He wasn’t slumping against the wooden frame any longer. His body stood at full attention, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.

  “I hate to tell you,” she murmured, “but that truce is pretty much worthless.” To Hayden, anyway. “Hayden found out that John was onto his plans and he put a price on his head.”

  “Like the price that’s on yours?”

  Unfortunately, yes. That was the way the coyotes liked to play. A price would be put on prey. Then the hunt would begin.

  She took a quick breath. “John thought his best chance of survival was coming here, telling you what was happening . . .”

  “And getting my pack to watch his ass.”

  The way she hoped they’d watch hers. “Yes.”

  He strode toward her. “And where do you fit into all this? Why are they after you?”

  “Because I know the attack isn’t just coming from the coyotes.” Bad enough, but . . . “Hayden is working with wolves—they are coming for you, too.” Wolves she knew. Wolves she’d trusted, once.

  Then she’d seen their true nature.

  “A war is coming to this town, Lucas. You’re going to get slammed from both sides.” This time, she sucked in a deep, gulping breath. Confession. “I know the wolf who’s leading the charge.”

  “Know him?”

  Not going to lie. A lie wouldn’t work with him. She stepped away from the stairs and headed closer to him. “He was my lover.” He’d also used her to spy. At first, she hadn’t minded. Not like spying was new for her. Besides, she’d been so happy to find someone who didn’t think she was some kind of freak.

  And he’d been a wolf. It had seemed so perfect. As if he were made for her.

  Then the killings had started.

  She’d realized he wasn’t so perfect after all.

  Sarah had gotten away from him, barely, but he was out there, and closing in—on her and Lucas.

  “Your lover.” A growl. “You like to play with wolves, do you?”

  Sarah kept her chin up even as her hands clenched into fists. “John died trying to save your ass.”

  Black brows rose. “Sounds like he died trying to save his own ass.” He walked around her, circling like the wolf he was as he closed in on his prey. His gaze raked her, head to toe, lingering a bit too long on her breasts and hips.

  Sarah was all too aware that they were alone and that Lucas could rip her apart with one swipe of his claws. She knew first-hand just how strong a wolf shifter’s claws could be. The mark on her back had only healed a few weeks ago.

  He circled her once more, then stopped just behind her. His breath stirred the hair near her ear as he said, “Tell me the wolf’s name.”

  Not yet. Because wolves had a tendency to stick together, and she didn’t want to find herself on the outside, with two packs sizing her up. “Do you believe me?”

  “I believe you’ve managed to piss off the coyotes.”

  Not close to being good enough. She turned her head a bit and met his stare. “I’m a charmer. I can read the minds of wolves.”

  “Then read my mind.” A taunt, one laced with sensual menace.

 
; Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t read you when you’re in human form, you have to shift first.”

  “I’ve heard there are only a handful of charmers in the world who can read a shifter’s mind.” The doubt was obvious. “Most charmers stick to real animals.”

  “Shifters are real animals.” The insult burst out automatically, but she’d seen too much to think otherwise.

  His lips curled, revealing the sharp tips of his canines. “That we are.” He leaned closer and she caught the soft inhale as he scented her hair.

  Sarah held her body very, very still as his mouth came close to her throat. His lips feathered over her, pressing lightly against the side of her neck.

  If he wanted, he could rip her throat open. But she knew what this move was about. Damn pack rules.

  Dominance. Submission. Lucas was the freaking alpha, her only hope for living out the next forty-eight hours. So she had to play the game.

  Sarah tipped back her head, baring her throat in a gesture she knew he’d understand.

  A rumble slipped from his mouth and seemed to vibrate on her skin. She felt the light nip of his teeth, and, damn it all, a shot of heat streaked through her body. Can’t want him. Can’t trust him. Can only use him and walk away.

  His tongue swiped over her throat, licking the small wound. “His scent’s not on you.”

  It took a second for his words to register, a second too long, because Lucas caught her arms and yanked her around to face him.

  He bent toward her, bringing his eyes close to hers. “Babe, I know wolf shifters. If we’re fucking, we’re marking our partners. If you had a wolf lover, his scent would be all over you.”

  Bastard. “Only if we’d been together in the last month. It’s been four months since I got the hell away from him.” Partial truth.

  His nostrils flared. Smell a lie . . .

  “I’m telling you the truth.” If she said it, maybe he’d buy it. “You’re in danger, your pack’s in danger and—”

  “We’ll see.” His hand lowered and snagged her wrist. “I think a little test is in order.” He pulled her with him.

  What? A test? “Lucas—”

  But he didn’t stop. His grip was freaking unbreakable, because she really did try every way possible to break it. He led her through the house, dragged her outside, hauled her down the hill—and ignored her shouts to explain what the hell he was doing.

  When they burst through the brush and into the small clearing and four wolves—huge, furry beasts with saliva dripping from their teeth—lunged toward them, Sarah finally understood her little “test.”

  The wolves circled them. She couldn’t help it. Sarah inched closer to Lucas. Two of the wolves were black. Two were solid white. All looked like they’d been taking some kind of shifter steroids. Way too large for normal wolves. She swallowed.

  “Let’s see what part of your story was true,” Lucas said, “and what part was bullshit.”

  He freed her wrist. Then the guy stepped away from her. Far away. He left her in the middle of that circle of wolves and the animals closed in.

  “The bitch made contact with Simone.”

  The coyote leader lifted his brows at that. “So she’s dead?” Good. One less worry for him. Of course, picking up the bounty on her head would have been a nice bonus, and killing her would have given them a good in with the other wolves but . . .

  The coyote shifter in front of him raised his head, and the guy’s thick, dirty brown hair scraped across his shoulders. “Simone didn’t kill her,” Marcus DePaul confessed.

  Very, very slowly, Jess Ortez lowered the shot glass he’d lifted to his mouth. “He didn’t kill her,” he repeated softly. “You didn’t kill her . . . so what the fuck happened to Sarah King?”

  “Sh-she’s under his protection. They were together. I-I followed ’em to the park, tried to get her—”

  Oh, shit. His head began to throb. “You weren’t stupid enough to attack when Lucas Simone was there.”

  But the idiot’s trembling lips told him that, yes, he had been. Fuck. The glass started to crack. “We’ve got a truce with him!” He threw the glass back over the bar.

  “But Alpha, I thought you wanted—”

  Jess lunged forward and caught the shifter’s head in his hands. He stared into Marcus’s eyes. “Don’t think.” One twist, that’s all it would take and he’d snap the wiry bastard’s neck. “You’re not supposed to think. You’re just supposed to do whatever the hell I tell you.”

  That was the whole point in being the coyote alpha, right? He gave the orders, all the other bastards rushed to obey, and if they didn’t rush fast enough, he killed them.

  Sweat trickled down the dumb bastard’s face. “P-please . . .”

  “Does Lucas know I’m here?”

  “I don’t th-think—”

  His fingers tightened.

  “No! He just—he must have figured we were just hunting! Said if he saw me or Grimes again, we were dead.”

  Not as bad as it could be, but still . . . now the wolf would be on guard and if that bitch managed to get him to believe her story . . .

  Screwed.

  He drew in a long, slow breath. “Guess what?” he murmured.

  Marcus blinked his watery eyes. “Wh-what?”

  “You are dead.” His hands yanked hard to the right.

  Snap.

  Lucas watched the wolves close in on her, and he crossed his arms over his chest. And waited.

  Sarah stood in the middle of that tight circle, her body tense, her hands fisted at her sides. Her gaze darted from wolf to wolf, and the scent of sweat and fear teased his nose.

  Again, the smell of fear didn’t tempt his wolf. But, it did have the beast inside snarling . . . and damn if he didn’t want to go back to her. Protect.

  “This should be easy for you,” he called out, deliberately keeping his voice cool and expressionless. “You’re the charmer. Just tell me what they’re thinking.”

  Her lips pressed together. So he wouldn’t see the tremble? Too late, he’d already seen. Sarah was scared. Charmers didn’t usually fear their linked animals, but then wolf shifters weren’t your typical beasts.

  “I’ve already played this game,” she gritted. “You were there, you saw me with the boy.”

  The boy. Jordan. “All you did was guess that he was a young wolf. Not a very impressive guess.” He shrugged. “This time, I want details.” Proof. “Tell me what they’re thinking.”

  Because if she really was what she claimed to be . . .

  Her right hand lifted and her index finger pointed to the white wolf that stood less than a foot away from her. “Piers here thinks this test is a damn waste of time, and he wants to go for my th-throat.”

  The drumbeat of Lucas’s heart echoed in his ears. Could be a guess. Everyone knows my first-in-command is Piers.

  Lucas lifted a brow. “You’ve got three other wolves still waiting,” he said.

  But she wasn’t looking away from Piers. “Tell him to stand down. I don’t want this jerk taking a swipe at me.” She backed up a step. Not the brightest move. You didn’t show weakness to a wolf. Wolves liked weakness too much.

  Lucas dropped his hands and rolled his shoulders. “Ease back, Piers.”

  The white wolf immediately backed off.

  Sarah’s green gaze rose to meet his. “Thank you.” No mistaking the fear in those eyes.

  He inclined his head. “Three more.”

  “You really are a bastard, aren’t you?”

  “That’s what they say.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Right, you’re—” Her gaze shot to the left. To the big, black wolf with night-black eyes. “He says you’re a bastard, but you’re a fair bastard.”

  “He?”

  “Michael.” Her breath heaved out. “He says I shouldn’t worry, that you don’t usually eat women.”

  Then her face flushed. A dark, fiery red. Her gaze darted to the other white wolf, Caleb McKenzie. He was a little smaller t
han Piers. Just a little. “He says you—ah—in bed . . .” Her hand lifted and shoved back a heavy mass of her hair. “I don’t need to know this.”

  Lucas never looked away from her. “One wolf to go.” She swallowed. “Dane knows I’m telling the truth, so he’s trying to keep his mind blank now so I can’t see inside.” A brittle laugh. “No dice, Dane, and yes, I do think more coyotes will be after me. I think they’ll be here by nightfall and we need to stop screwing around with these stupid tests and get ready for them.”

  “Shift,” Lucas ordered.

  Sarah threw up her hands. “Wait!”

  Too late. The snap and crunch of shifting bones filled the air. Fur melted away from the bodies of the wolves as dark, golden flesh appeared. Hands formed from paws. Muzzles slid back into the curved features of men.

  Didn’t take long. Just a few minutes, and the wolves were gone. Naked men stood surrounding Sarah. Lucas bent toward the bag Piers had brought out earlier. He pulled out the jeans and tossed them to his men. Then he marched to Sarah’s side. The pulse at the base of her throat beat far too fast.

  “You play with us,” he murmured as the men dressed, “but we scare the hell out of you.”

  “Trust me on this, Lucas,” she said, voice quiet, “if I could have chosen, wolves would have been the last animals I would have linked with.”

  But charmers didn’t have a choice. Their gift just kicked in when the right animal was around.

  His gaze was on the faint mark on her throat, his mark, when he asked, “Was she telling the truth?”

  “I wanted to rip her throat out,” Piers admitted. “Yeah, she knew.”

  “She plucked the exact words from my mind,” Michael Montoya said. “We all know what a fair bastard you are.”

  A snort from Piers.

  Dane Gentry edged closer. “She can link with us.” He whistled. “Who the hell would have thought the stories were true? A charmer who can link with shifted wolves—that’s fucking rare.”

  Her shoulders were so straight they had to hurt. “So I guess this means I passed your test? You believe me now?”