Blood Enforcer (Wolf Enforcers Book 2)

by Jessica Aspen

  Triumph surged hot in his veins. He was nearly there. He re-chalked the lines of the pentagram and circle, making sure there were no gaps.

  “Well, Sam, I’m sorry you won’t see how happy she’s going to be with me, but you won’t care out in the woods, will you? You’ll be lost in the hunt. Maybe you’ll even find a real bitch to be your mate.” The bubbles of elation rising through his blood at what was coming almost made him want to giggle.

  He lit the candles, ignoring the repetitive meaty sound of Sam hitting the end of the chain again, and again, and again.

  “Do you know, Sam, what a spelltalker really is? Oh, the pack uses us to keep the adolescents in line. Maybe to find out people’s secrets...to hide the wolves’ existence, our talents are similar to the dreamwalkers, but not the same. For instance, telling lies from truth can be done, but it takes it out of the worker and the travel on the astral leaves us exhausted for days. But our real gift is the ability to access the ancestors. Access to lost knowledge on the astral planes. If one has the patience, the time—and the drive.”

  He frowned and stepped into the chalk circle, re-positioning Glenna, making sure she was exactly where she needed to be. One mistake and he’d be starting from scratch.

  “Once upon a time, spelltalkers took mates with the Bite.” He’d waited years to tell someone else. Keeping everything a secret had been the hardest part. “The knowledge is all there, back in the lines. I just had to look.” He picked up the little brown bottle and shook it, mixing up the contents of settled virus so it would be truly effective.

  “I didn’t want a human mate, or a dormant. I wanted a true mate. And there just aren’t enough. Every time I approached a woman she’d fixate on some asshole of a shifter. Even the dreamwalkers and other spelltalkers find fur exciting. So I had to find one on my own.” He examined the ancient wolf’s fang. He’d spent hours sharpening it, making sure it was ready. “It took time—time spent searching the inner lines to the ancestors and the paper trails in the old files. Did you know that we have relatives out there in the human world? And some of them carry the correct DNA to become dreamwalkers, maybe spelltalkers. But I never expected this.”

  He took the fang in his hand and prepared it, dipping it into the virus three times before laying it on a small dish next to a sharp knife.

  “You, Glenna: a human woman with the right combination of DNA to become a shifter. You and I will have powerful children. And we’ll find more like you, so no one has to go mateless.”

  He picked up the knife. “And so it begins.”

  He opened himself up to his talent, let in the wildness of the woods and the earth, and spoke the words that in a few moments would let him have access to the magic of the ancestors. The magic of the Bite that would finally allow him, a spelltalker, to take a mate and be bound to her for life—just like the shifters had always done.

  ***

  Sam saw Alastair raise the knife and something inside him snapped, releasing an uncontrollable shaking urge for vengeance. His throat was bruised and sore from hitting the end of the chains too many times, but he bunched his muscles and lunged. This time instead of hitting the end of the chain, he kept going, the ring snapping out of the crumbling cement. He sailed through the air, trailing a chain of broken concrete chunks and landed on Alastair.

  The spelltalker hit the floor, a surprised grunt ripped out of him. Candles and chalk rolled as Sam’s trajectory took him too far, and he landed on the other side of the room. He whirled, the chain dragging behind him, and faced his enemy. Alastair was on his feet, hands wide, knife ready.

  A rush of glory poured through Sam. He was free.

  The fever throbbed and his wolf surged, the only thing in both their minds was ripping the spelltalker’s throat out and shutting him up forever.

  He stalked circling around, drawing Alastair further and further into the gloom of the barn and away from Glenna.

  “Sam, we can work this out.”

  If wolves could laugh then Sam would have been rolling on the ground. There was only one way this was going down—to the death.

  He lunged for Alastair’s unprotected underbelly, but the spelltalker moved quicker than expected and slashed the knife down. The edge of the blade cut deep into Sam’s fur. He stumbled past the spelltalker and whipped around to face him again.

  His head still hurt and there was a haze to the world. Whatever Alastair had drugged him with was still in his system and slowing him down. In the back of his mind he registered a faint smell of smoke.

  But it didn’t matter.

  This was a claiming battle. From deep within, the fever throbbed, pushing him to lay claim to Glenna, and this man was in his way, just as if he’d been another wolf, challenging Sam for the right to mate. He howled and charged again, this time feinting high and to Alastair’s off hand before diving low to the soft underbelly of his prey where he sank his fangs in deep and tore.

  Hot rich blood spewed out into his mouth, and Alastair screamed. Sam let go, dancing out of range of Alastair’s flashing blade.

  “You fucking asshole. You’ve bitten me!”

  Sam paced, waiting for a second opportunity, aware it was more than a bite—it was the first of the killing strokes. A belly wound was good for a slow death, but he didn’t have time for that and didn’t want that. No, he needed the satisfaction of the final death blow.

  Alastair was moving slower, but he lunged forward and cut down, Sam danced out of the way, darting in for a quick bite at the ankles. Another score.

  He smelled Alastair’s surge of adrenaline mixing with the heavy odor of smoke, and sensed the power of the spelltalker’s magic rising to the fore. Alastair began muttering, ancient words Sam had never been permitted to learn, reserved only for the spelltalkers and their secretive rites. His sense of urgency increased. He needed to take Alastair out now before the spell took shape. And while he still had energy.

  He ignored the steady seep of blood oozing from his wound. Somewhere, buried deep behind the fever and his wolf, a piece of him understood that the wounds, combined with the drug still in his system, were going to take him down. He didn’t have long before he would pass out and Alastair would win. He went in for the kill.

  He rose to his hind feet and punched with his forepaws, knocking Alastair to the ground and cutting off the flow of the spell. He circled around fast, before his foe could recover. He came in from the side, up and under Alastair’s arm and his blade, avoiding the sharp edge and aiming for the throat.

  His teeth sank in, met the resistance of skin, then flesh, then he hit the cords of muscle and bone. Alastair’s knife slashed frantically, cutting into Sam’s thick heavy fur on his shoulder. Pain slid down Sam’s back, but he didn’t let go, he continued to close his jaws, grinding his way through the gush of blood until he had a solid grip on the throat of his enemy.

  He twisted his jaws and the spine snapped.

  The heavy weight of the body’s sudden drop pulled his head down until the corpse settled on the floor. Sam let go and lifted his head. The howl belled out of him announcing to one and all, victory.

  He crossed through the haze of smoke, oblivious to the fire eating up the barn, oblivious to anything but reaching Glenna. She lay, with her eyes closed. Sam pushed her with his nose. The wolf didn’t understand. She should be his, she should go with him to run in the woods and complete the claiming.

  A beam crashed behind him, sparks flying, and he jumped. Deep within his head the human part of him finally registered the crackling light and heavy scent of fire.

  Sam fought for ascendancy, past the wolf and the urge of the fever. He had to shift, to become human, or he would never be able to get Glenna out alive.

  Fifty-two

  The old, dry wood of the barn crackled into flame and smoke fogged the air. Sam’s wolf took over. It had to flee the fire, but the fever pounding through their system wouldn’t let him abandon his mate. The wolf desperately wanted to save Glenna, and the wolf inside her, bu
t in its fear it wouldn’t let Sam out.

  The wolf grabbed Glenna’s hair in his teeth, trying to drag her heavy body across the floor. Sam fought for ascendancy. The wolf snarled at him. It knew it was better at this. It wouldn’t let him mess things up again.

  The wolf dragged Glenna’s naked body a few feet across the floor, oblivious to the scratches and scrapes of the old wood on her skin. The door was still too far away when another burning beam crashed heavily down, too close. The wolf dropped Glenna’s hair and jumped out of the way. A deep howl ripped out of it.

  “Sam! Sam, is that you?”

  From outside Sam heard Lana pounding on the wooden door. His wolf kept him back. The fever throbbed through the two of them leaving nothing but instinct and desire and fear.

  He pushed and shoved, trying to force the shift. Nothing was working. The fever pulsed and jumped in his veins, giving him tunnel vision. All that he saw, all he cared about, was Glenna. He needed her. He wanted her. And the urge to ignore the flames and choking smoke and claim her fought with his need to save her. Finally, it was too much. He’d fought not to do this again, not to let the fever take control, but he was going to die. And if he was, he was going to do it committed to the woman he loved. He let the fever take control. The heat of the fever soared soar through him in a rush of power. This was the gift of the ancestors—submitting to the fever, letting it take him over, finally set him free.

  He knew now how to not only be himself; he knew how to be the wolf. How had he forgotten the perfection of blending this way? Why had he fought it for so long? How could he have let his fear of sliding into the wild forever keep him back from this perfection? Finally, he knew exactly what to do, and the wolf did too. They were one. The wolf slid back, and they enabled the shift.

  Sam’s human body was a mess—bleeding, drugged, weaker than the wolf’s. At first he wasn’t sure what to do with the bundle of Glenna’s hair he still had in his teeth. But, finally he remembered, he had hands. He scooped Glenna up. Sparks landed on his skin, burning his hair. His wolf howled. He fought through, around the burning beam. His muscles strained with the effort of carrying Glenna, he made it to the door.

  Someone pounded on the outside. “Open the door!” Ian’s shout filled Sam with relief. The pack was here. His enforcers were here. But despite the knowledge that rescue was seconds away his brain was filled with smoke and he struggled with how to open the door.

  He had to get it open. Had to...slowly the sight of the bar blocking the door sank in. He had to move that. He lay Glenna gently down on the floor, snarling at himself for needing to do so, and grabbed the iron bar. Heat burned his hands, scorching his skin, but he ignored it tossing the bar to the side and wrenching the door open.

  Fire trucks pulled up on the dirt road, police and ambulance behind them. Ian helped tug the door open and reached for Glenna. “Let us have her, Sam.”

  He snarled. There was no way he was letting her go. He picked her up and stumbled out of the barn, going as far as he could, before falling to the ground, cradling her in his arms and gasping for air.

  “Oh, Sam.” Lana walked up next to him. “You are so far gone.”

  Sam heard what was going on around him, but none of it made it through his fever. It burned in him, even as they tranqed him. Even as he sank into unconsciousness. He knew, back in the recesses of his sanity, that he had to claim Glenna before the fever burned a hole in him again. And this time he wasn’t coming back.

  Fifty-three

  Glenna knew she was awake, but she lay there trying to identify the myriad odors in the room and why she felt like her aching body was locked in a straitjacket. Was she really that bad off? Had they given up on her?

  Her newly sensitive sense of smell identified that she was back in her sickroom at the cabin. She sighed. Locked down in the cellar again. But under the acrid smells of smoke and blood and medicine lay a spicy smell she desperately needed to make sure was really Sam.

  Her eyes were gritty and sore, but she opened them anyway. All she could see was bare skin covered with whirls of hair moving up and down as he breathed.

  Relief flooded her. She was in the cellar, but Sam was with her and he lay wrapped around her, holding her so tight she couldn’t even move.

  Glenna released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d sucked in. “Sam?” Her throat was just as sore and gritty as her eyes and she coughed, trying to clear it.

  “You’re awake.” He growled the words out, his deep voice rough with smoke and wolf.

  “Sam, you’re skin is on fire.” She went to sit up, but his arms clamped tighter and he shuddered.

  “Don’t move. I can’t control it any longer.”

  “Control what?” She held still. “Sam, you’re going to have to explain.”

  “Glenna, if you reject me, I’ll be able to go. But you need to do it now, before I just don’t care anymore and I take you by force.”

  “Sam, I don’t understand.” She wanted to move, wanted to look him in the face, but her small wiggle had him clamping down again, and the shudders racking his body became fiercer.

  “The fever is eating me alive. I’m at the end, Glenna.” He panted for breath. A drip of sweat dropped off his brow and trickled down her collarbone. “I wanted to go earlier, but I had to find out, had to know. Can you take me on? I won’t take you against your will, I’m no Alastair.”

  A sudden picture of Alastair’s frenzied face made her shiver.

  “Glenna,” Sam ground out. “I’m holding on by a thread. I didn’t want it to be this way. You should have a choice, you should be able to get to know all the potential mates and pick someone who you really want. You deserve to choose without the change forcing you to.”

  Glenna hadn’t even thought about the change. She felt for her wolf and the reassuring presence was there. A solid, silent voice deep inside that told her that her wolf had no qualms about Sam. In fact her wolf desperately wanted to be claimed. Her need came through loud and clear and carrying with it a sexual vibration that slid into Glenna’s veins like liquid gold.

  “I want you, Sam.”

  His body shook. “You aren’t through the change yet, it’s too soon. It could take months for you to balance out. I remember, it took a long time. How can you be sure it isn’t just the hormones? How can I be sure you’ll even want me once you sober up?” Another shudder ripped through him. “I should go.” He shifted his weight, rolling back on the single bed, his face tortured.

  “Wait.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Just wait.” She didn’t feel unbalanced, didn’t feel overcome with emotion or unable to make a decision. She’d felt all that before the change, and right afterward it had gotten better. Now she tested her wolf out. Tested herself out.

  “Sam, why do you think I’m unable to make this decision? I feel fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, absolutely fine.” She sat up a little, drawing the blanket up to cover her body, which she suddenly realized was black and blue. “I’m tired, and sore, and my lungs hurt like hell, but I’m so much more than I was a few days ago.” She giggled with the joy of knowing her wolf and felt an answering joy inside. “I’m a wolf shifter. And I’m happy.” She smiled at Sam.

  “You sound like you’re still crazy.” He moved to get up.

  “No.” She held tight to his arm and he stopped, his shoulder muscles twitching under her touch like a spooked horse. “No, I’m not crazy. I’m completely sane and sober. I think you are underestimating what happens to an adult under the change.” Her wolf’s smug agreement had her continuing, “I’m fine Sam. I’m not an adolescent dealing with hormones and a changing body at the same time learning how to live with a wolf. I can make decisions.”

  His eyes were somber. “This is for life, Glenna. So much more than death do us part.”

  “I choose you, Sam. I love you. You’ve always been there for me. You push me, and it turns out, I like to be pushed.”

  A storm of desire blew
through his eyes. His voice dropped even lower. “You need to be absolutely sure, because I am not stopping. Once I start, this is forever.”

  She leaned in and kissed him, firmly. She put all her new knowledge of herself and her love for him into it. His lips trembled under hers and his grip on her arm tightened painfully.

  “Claim me, Sam.”

  His eyes flashed hot and he rolled her under him in one swift movement. She forgot about the bruises and the bumps and held on as he opened his mouth and kissed her. This was so right. She growled softly in satisfaction as his mouth trailed heat down her collarbone and across the top of her breast.

  “I love you, Glenna. It’s not just the fever. I’ve wanted you since I saw you fighting not to take a bite of that lasagna. I wanted you like I’ve never wanted anyone and I knew you would be my downfall.” She pressed her hips up to his. Fire burned through her veins. “I can’t wait anymore, I have to take you now.”

  “Don’t wait.” He’d turned her on so fast and so hard that she didn’t need or want a warm up. What she wanted was him inside her. What both she and her wolf wanted was the satisfaction of his teeth in her neck. The Bite.

  Glenna trembled.

  “Are you afraid?”

  “No, I’m excited.”

  She wanted him on her, in her. She wanted his teeth sunk into the nape of her neck. She pushed on his chest.

  “Tell me what you want.” He pinned her arms above her head and nuzzled her nipple, barely touching it and sending crazy spirals of desire shooting through her veins. “I can’t hold on, Glenna. Tell me what you want before I break.”

  She thrust her hips at his. “I want to roll over. I want you to take me from behind. I want you to bite me.”

  Sound came from him in a shuddering rush. “You undo me, woman.”

  Love rushed through her, amping up her desire even as her frustration level rose.

  He slid his naked body along hers and she didn’t even feel her bruises and bumps, just the glory of his skin against hers. Fire licked through her. This was it, and she wanted it. Now.