No one appeared to mind the rain, though. If anything, it only seemed to increase their excitement. The full moon might be lost in the mass of dark rolling clouds, but the pull the lunar goddess had on her children was still as strong as ever, driving them to hunt.
Too bad the pack members were the ones being hunted. Movement in the tree line to the west of the field caught his attention a split second before all hell broke loose. A dozen Walkers burst out of the forest, moving faster than anything Brock had ever seen and a hell of a lot faster than they should have been moving.
Since Shadow Walkers had once been human, turned by the blood of both a pureblood lycan and a pureblood vampire, their strength, speed, and agility were superior only to other humans. In a fight against a born paranormal, they were vastly outmatched. Obviously not the case for this particular group, though.
There wasn’t time to puzzle out the mystery. Four pack members were already down, and several more were engaged in ferocious battles of teeth and claws. Some of the Walkers had even shifted to their animal counterparts, but luckily, they were distinguishable by their inky-black pelts. Surprises were bad. Mistakes were deadly.
Barking twice to signal the rest of his team, Brock sprinted through the driving rain with Koba right beside him. Using his powerful back legs to propel him through the air, he leapt onto the back of one of the Shadow Walkers still in human form, taking him down easily before scrambling to his feet and moving on to the next.
“We can’t fight them and win!” Moira shouted as she pushed her sodden hair back from her face. “Everyone to the barn!”
A Walker of massive proportions turned his yellow gaze on her and snarled. Brock had never seen anything like it. Transforming into something between a vampire and a wolf, the beast practically flew through the mud, knocking aside Brock and two of his team members as though they were nothing more than flies.
Inch long talons curved from the tips of the monster’s fingers, and he slashed through the air, coming closer to Moira with each thundering beat of Brock’s heart. He was too far away, would never make it to her in time. Though she was strong, Moira was still in her human skin, making her the most vulnerable person in the clearing.
It was for that reason that Brock couldn’t believe his eyes when Moira charged the Walker, her arms pumping hard as she ran full-out. Did she really think that she could simply run right through her enemy? What the hell was she trying to do?
When the monster swung at her again, Moira ducked the blow and dropped her shoulder, ramming it right into the Walker’s midsection, sending them both crashing to the mud. “Go!” she screamed to her pack as she rolled off her foe and hit the ground running.
The beast was just as quick to gain his feet, splashing through the rising puddles in his pursuit. Barking and snarling, Brock ran faster than he ever had in his life, his paws clawing against the earth to propel him forward and his eyes never straying from their target—the unprotected nape of the Walker’s neck.
Chaos and panic surrounded him as most of the pack fled for the cover of the nearby barn. A few of the male members stayed behind, engaging the enemy to give the smaller and weaker a better chance of escape. While Brock worried for Koba, hadn’t seen him since the battle began, he knew the man could take care of himself. So, he focused all of his attention on Moira and the Walker closing in on her, pushing himself harder, faster, and with single-minded determination.
His tunnel vision gave him a front-row view to the tragedy unfolding before him, and his heart nearly stopped beating as he watched the Walker leap through the air and tackle Moira to the mud. The pair slid several feet across the slick ground, but came to an abrupt stop when a large, gray wolf appeared out of nowhere, catching the Walker around the neck and using his momentum to pull the asshole off of Moira.
Too bad the stubborn alpha couldn’t let it go. And they said men had more pride than brains. “I had him!” she shouted, delivering a hard right hook to the Walker’s temple.
Finishing off the beast with a fierce growl, Koba backed away a few steps and shifted right there in the middle of the clearing. The rain pelted against him, soaking his long, black hair and running off his nude, tanned body in rivers. None of that seemed to bother him, though. He advanced on Moira, grabbing her by the upper arm and spinning her toward the barn that sat on the edge of the field.
Brock slowed his pace to a trot, following silently behind the pair as Koba prodded Moira through the downpour. The surviving Walkers had retreated back into the forest, and it would fall to Brock and his team to hunt them down.
They needed to clean up the mess in the clearing, make sure the pack was safe, and regroup before that could happen, though. Just then, his main priority was sticking close to his mates and ensuring no further harm came to them.
“I had him!” Moira repeated, wrenching her arm out of Koba’s grasp.
“Yes, and there’s an open bar in hell,” Koba countered with a snort. “Are you always like this?”
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Spinning around so fast that her wet hair slapped her in the face, Moira pushed a finger right into Koba’s chest and snarled. “You don’t belong here.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re welcome,” Koba repeated. “You know, for saving your life.”
“I didn’t need saving. Now, tell me. Who are you?”
“Koba Blackheart.”
“And that means what to me? Why are you here?”
Deciding things couldn’t get any worse than they already were, Brock dropped his head as the change washed over him, and his body reformed to his usual six-four height. “He’s with me.”
Moira’s head snapped in his direction. The shock was evident in her expression, even in the darkness, though it was quickly followed by cold, hard rage. “Brock Lancaster.” The name was spoken with such venom it was a wonder he didn’t drop dead where he stood.
“Hey, Mo. Fancy meeting you here.”
His lame attempt to lighten the mood would have earned him a fist to the jaw if Koba hadn’t caught Moira around the waist and hauled her off her feet. He let go quickly, however, when the heel of her boot connected squarely with his shin. Drawing up to her full five-nine height, Moira leveled Brock with a scathing look and then spun around to stomp off toward the barn.
“Don’t call me Mo.”
Chapter Two
This was not happening.
Eight months without so much as a phone call or postcard. Eight months of not knowing if he was even alive. Eight fucking months of trying to get over him, trying to rebuild her life, and then Brock Lancaster shows up, naked as the day he was born, as if he’d just blown in with the storm.
Well, he could take his rugged good looks, perfectly sculpted physique, and that stupid pet name that made her knees weak and go right back to wherever he’d been hiding. She didn’t need him, and she certainly didn’t need the complications his arrival brought with him.
“Mo, wait!”
Stopping just before she reached the barn doors, Moira fisted her hands at her sides and struggled to breathe. “What are you doing here, Brock?”
“Looks to me like I’m saving your life.”
It was the second time someone had said that to her in the span of about three minutes, and it rankled because she knew it was true. Wild horses wouldn’t drag the confession out of her, though. “I can take care of myself.”
“Yes, because it looked like you were doing such a bang-up job of it.”
Giving up on remaining calm and rational, Moira turned to give Brock a piece of her mind but stopped short when she found the man much closer than she’d expected. She floundered for only a moment before finding her voice, though. “Why did you come back? There’s nothing for you here.”
“You’re here.”
“Like I said, there’s nothing for you.”
“Don’t,” Brock growled at her. “I’m only here now to do my job. If y
ou think more of those things aren’t coming, you’re a damn fool, Mo. You know you need my help.”
As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. She didn’t have a clue what had ambushed them or how to fight them. As much as she’d like to send Brock packing, it wasn’t about her. She had a lot of people who were looking to her to protect them. Pushing away her personal feelings and doing what was in the best interest of the whole, she sighed heavily and dipped her head. “Fine, but I want to know everything you know.”
“That’s classified information.”
“Cut the crap, Brock. There are twenty-eight people in that barn who are scared and want to know what the hell just happened. How are we supposed to protect ourselves if we don’t know what we’re fighting?”
“She has a point.” The first man who’d saved her life—Koba, he’d said—stepped forward and crossed his arms over his rock-hard pectorals. “They have a right to know.”
She didn’t know who he was or how he was associated with Brock, but she liked him a little better already for his agreement. “Thanks for the help out there.” Fine, she could play nice and give the guy that much.
“Nah, you did most of the work.” Koba winked at her and leaned to the side to bump their shoulders together. “You’re one tough little hellcat.”
Oh, he was good. “And you’re heavy on the compliments. I appreciate the help, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“Why should you? You don’t know anything about me.”
Moira really wished the guy would stop saying all the right things. She was mad, had every right to her anger, but she was having a hard time holding on to it whenever he smiled at her. When he touched her, it was like a soothing aloe that calmed her frazzled nerves. Who was this guy?
“He’s with you?” She jerked her thumb toward Koba while addressing her question to Brock.
Brock studied her for a long time before he nodded. “He’s mine.”
Oh. Moira had no trouble understanding the simple statement. While her pussy clenched and her skin tingled at the thought of the two men naked and writhing together, another part of her felt hurt and betrayed.
“Congratulations.” What was she supposed to say? No way was she going to play the jealous and jilted lover. Not on her life would she let Brock see how much the information hurt her.
“Thank you,” Koba answered. “That doesn’t make Brock any less your mate, though.”
No, she knew that. Other than the fact that it was pretty common for lycans to have more than one mate, she could still feel the pull, like some invisible thread linking her with Brock. It only made it that much harder to see Koba at his side—in her place.
“Yeah, I get it.” She looked up at Koba, truly concentrating on him for the first time. “You’re not, though.” Something sizzled between them, some subtle thrum of familiarity that drew her in, but it wasn’t like the tether than connected her to Brock.
Brock’s eyelids closed, and he dropped his head as though it was painful to hear the words. Koba, however, just smiled. “I know, but it doesn’t change anything.”
Why would it? He had Brock, Moira had her pack, and once this mess was straightened out, they could all go back to their lives. She could go back to being alone and forgotten. “We should get inside.”
Yet another naked man came marching toward them through the rain, closely followed by three russet-colored wolves. “We trailed them as far as the creek but lost the scent after that.”
Brock’s entire demeanor changed as he faced the guy. “Is anyone hurt?”
“Nothing a good night’s sleep won’t cure. What do you want us to do?”
“Pull the trucks around and grab the gear. We’ll set up in the barn for the night.”
The new guy nodded once, turned, and walked away with the wolves still following him. “Who was that?” Moira asked as she watched him go.
“Casey Marsh and the rest of my team. I’ll make the introductions when they get back.” Brock motioned toward the slightly opened doors of the barn behind her. “After you.”
“He just wants to stare at your ass,” Koba whispered loudly. “Not that I blame him, mind you.”
Moira ducked into the barn to hide the pink in her cheeks as they heated with embarrassment. She needed Brock’s help. That was the only reason she was letting him stay. If her heart beat just a little quicker and her belly tightened with desire when she looked at him, well, that didn’t mean anything.
And if she was kind of, sort of, somewhat attracted to Koba in the way that made her want to climb him like a tree and shout to the stars—well, she’d just keep that little part to herself.
* * * *
Koba made no effort to hide the fact that his eyes were glued to Moira’s perfectly shaped ass encased in tight, wet denim. The beauty might not have been chosen for him by fate as Brock had been, but that made her no less his mate. He wasn’t jealous of the way Brock’s eyes caressed every inch of her. It didn’t matter to him if the two had a history and he was technically the newcomer to the relationship.
From the moment he’d caught sight of Moira, he’d been completely captivated. Once she’d opened her mouth and unleashed that fiery temper on him, he’d been lost. It was a huge relief, if he was being honest. He’d never keep Brock from his mate, but he hadn’t been keen on the idea of sharing the man, either. If it was the right thing to do, he’d allow Brock to bounce back and forth between them, but that didn’t mean he had to like any of it.
Oh, he talked a big game, but he’d been nervous about the changes Moira’s presence would bring. Thankfully, his worries had been in vain. It might not have been the “destined to be” connection he felt with Brock, but there had definitely been a spark of recognition between him and Moira when they’d touched.
So, screw fate.
His wolf had perked up to take notice, sniffed around a bit, and then practically howled in acceptance. That was good enough for him. Besides, he couldn’t shake the feeling that they were destined to be together, all three of them, but there was something standing in their way. Now he just had to figure out what that was.
“We should probably get some clothes before we go in there.”
Brock was stalling, and after Moira’s less-than-warm welcome, Koba could understand why. Putting it off wasn’t going to make it any easier to face, though. “Everyone else will be just as naked. Since when have you ever been modest?” It just wasn’t practical to be concerned with nudity considering they spent a large majority of their time shifting back and forth between their human and animal skins.
“Right.” Brock jerked his head in what was probably supposed to be agreement. “You first.”
It really wasn’t funny, but Koba chuckled anyway. He’d never known Brock Lancaster to be afraid of anything. The man was fearless to a fault, and he never shied away from a confrontation. As they stepped through the barn doors, though, he looked like a man being led to the gallows.
A woman scorned was a force to be reckoned with, so maybe his reservations weren’t unfounded. Moira wasn’t only tough and tenacious, however, she was honorable. Whatever had transpired between them in the past, she wouldn’t berate or undermine Brock publically. Koba had no precedence on which to base his opinion, but he fancied himself an excellent judge of character. Moira Gilson had character in spades.
“What the hell were those things?”
“Where did they come from?”
“Are there more coming?”
“Alpha, what do you want us to do?”
Two men gathered close to Moira, taking turns firing off questions without waiting for answers. Koba didn’t know their names, but he guessed they were the pack betas. So where had they been during the fight? Why hadn’t they been protecting their alpha?
“I want you to take a deep breath and calm down,” Moira answered steadily. “Then I want you to make sure everyone gets home safely.” She looked over her shoulder, motioning Brock and Koba to her side and making quic
k introductions before addressing Brock. “Is it safe for them to leave?”
“The Walkers won’t be back tonight. Once my team gets here, we can patrol the area to make sure it’s safe before you move the pack, though.”
Moira nodded slowly as she stared off into space. Koba could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she thought over the best course of action, played it out in her mind, and moved on to the next before arriving at a conclusion. “I think that’s best,” she finally answered. “Thank you.”
“We can take care of our own,” the one named Joss practically spat. His eyes lit with malice as they bored into Brock. “What is he doing here?”
“Knock it off,” Moira growled. “You two can whip your dicks out and compare sizes later. Right now, I expect you to do your jobs.”
“Yes, Alpha,” both betas answered, though their eyes never left Brock.
Apparently Moira wasn’t the only one Brock had a history with in Mission Landing. Pressing against his mate’s back to anchor himself, Koba focused his energy, sending it out to the group. Within seconds the hostility in their circle abated, and Moira gasped as her hand came up to cover her mouth. “You’re a—”
“Not here,” Brock interrupted, eyeing the betas suspiciously. His arm extended behind him, wrapping around Koba’s waist and holding him protectively. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Joss and Rip were staring in his direction with glazed expressions, and both had taken a step closer, though Koba doubted they even realized it. “Snap out of it,” Moira barked, pushing at their chests until they focused on her. “Start with the single females and those with children. No more than five to a group, though.”
Once the men were occupied with their tasks, Moira shoved at Brock’s shoulders, ushering both him and Koba out of the barn. “Are you nuts? Get him out of here.”
Blood Rights [Wicked River 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 2