From the Ashes (Force of Nature #1)

by Amber Lynn Natusch

I sighed heavily, knowing that lying would be of no use to me.

  “I'm afraid that you have ulterior motives for being nice to me.”

  “Truth...” I looked back at him to see a sadness in his eyes. One that showed that he understood betrayal. “Piper,” he started, taking a cautious step toward me. “I don't know that I can convince you of this, but whatever you think it is I want from you or plan to do with you, it's not the case. Wolves come to me to start over—to escape their previous lives. You may not be a wolf, but you have the same look about you that they all do when they show up on my doorstep. I've never asked anything of them other than loyalty. I don't want anything from you, Piper. I just don't want anything to happen to you.” He reached his hand toward me and took mine. The second he did, the gentle breeze that had been dancing around us gusted, knocking me slightly off balance—and into Knox.

  “Sorry!” I said, trying to push myself off of him.

  “For thinking I have some maniacal plans for you or for falling into me?”

  I hesitated slightly.

  “Both?”

  He looked down at me and smiled.

  “You're forgiven. So will you come with us tonight?”

  It was my turn to grin.

  “I guess I could be persuaded.”

  “We're getting ready for lunch now if you want to join us. Bring whatever you're going to wear tonight with you. You can get ready at our place, unless running water doesn't appeal to you.”

  “I'll be right back!” I shouted, running into my cabin to grab my things. Truth was, I didn't have a whole lot of wardrobe options, so I settled on some skinny jeans and a white tank. I grabbed the necklace that Kat had given me for Christmas and my favorite boots—the ones I was wearing the night Merc attacked me. I loved them despite that connection. The dark blemishes in the leather from the bloodstains I couldn't get out reminded me of why I was running.

  I snatched a tiny bag containing the few toiletries and makeup items I owned and made my way back outside to find Knox standing there, a look of amusement in his eyes.

  “That was fast.”

  “I'm a low maintenance kinda girl.”

  “Just the way I like 'em,” he replied, turning to lead the way back to the house. “Want me to carry anything?”

  Before I could tell him no thank you, he took the boots that were awkwardly balanced on top of my things from me. He spotted the muddy-brown stains in the cognac-colored leather immediately. Not asking for confirmation, he put the toe of one boot to his nose and sniffed it. Then his angry eyes fell on mine.

  “That's a lot of blood, Piper.”

  “I know.”

  “Your blood.”

  “I know.”

  “This wouldn't have anything to do with why you're here, would it?”

  “Does it make a difference if it does?” I asked earnestly, not really wanting to delve into my sordid history.

  “No,” he replied, his jaw flexing hard to retain his anger. “I guess it doesn't.”

  We walked the rest of the way to the lodge in silence, me wondering what he was thinking and him likely questioning the wisdom of harboring someone with a bloodstained past. I was almost certain that it wasn't a love of Alaska's isolation that had brought him here.

  It certainly wasn't what had brought me either.

  When we got to the lodge, Knox's mood changed, returning to the more fun-loving wolf that I had found him to be. Strict with his pack, but affable. Approachable. Kind.

  I ate with the boys, then excused myself to go clean up. The warm water of the shower beat against my skin. It felt amazing. It had been a couple of days since I'd felt that and not been afraid to stay in too long. Knowing that I was surrounded by a pack of werewolves and enough sun in the sky to ensure no surprise vampire visits helped immensely. But then my eyes made their way down my body to take in my scars, and I quickly turned the water off.

  The shower didn't seem so enjoyable anymore.

  Knox knocked on the door while I was toweling my hair dry, letting me know that we were packing up to leave in about half an hour. I rushed to get ready, then made my way out to the living room where the others were waiting. They all stood when I walked into the room.

  “Shall we?” Knox asked, extending his hand toward me.

  I took a deep breath.

  “Let's go.”

  * * *

  They had a convoy of Suburban trucks to drive into the city: seven, to be exact. I got into the front seat beside Knox, wondering precisely what it was that I'd gotten myself into. A night on the town would have normally sounded great, but it would have also involved Jase and Dean and a familiar setting. That night, I was without all three.

  But I was willing to bet that I was safer making the journey to Anchorage with Knox than in my tiny cabin alone all night, so I took that chance. I'd been wrong about both Kingston and Merc, but something told me that the third time would be the charm. Knox and his pack had done nothing but welcome me with open arms and all but taken me in. Something about being with them reminded me of being with Jase and Dean.

  And they’d never betrayed me either.

  “Seat belt,” Knox said, putting the vehicle into drive. I eyed him strangely. “Safety first. Accidents don't take vacations.”

  I laughed out loud. How could I not with such a ridiculous sentiment from a virtually immortal werewolf?

  “I'll keep that in mind,” I replied, buckling up.

  “It's about a five-hour trip, so if you're tired, feel free to knock off for a bit. We'll grab dinner when we get there and then hit the club.”

  “And all the fine pieces of ass we can find there,” one of the guys in the back shouted out, earning him a few high fives from the others around him.

  “Way to keep it classy, Brunton,” Knox sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  “Did I miss something?” I asked.

  “Kind of,” he replied tensely. “There's really no tasteful way to put this, so I'm just going to lay it out there for you with my apologies first. We're going into town so the boys can get laid.”

  “Oh.”

  “It's the full moon,” he said, as though that were explanation enough. Apparently I didn't know enough werewolves for it to make much sense to me. Kat and Jensen went at it constantly, regardless of which phase the moon was in. When I didn't respond, Knox elaborated. “It sort of brings out our more...carnal qualities.”

  “He means fucking and fighting,” Brunton called out from the back.

  “Got it.”

  “The boys get a little antsy. They need one or the other, so we do this little pilgrimage every time the full moon hits so they can—”

  “Scratch that particular itch?” I interjected.

  “Exactly. Otherwise, I'd probably have a bloodbath on my hands at the lodge.”

  “You keep saying 'they' as though you're excluded from this dilemma,” I noted, keeping my eyes on the road ahead.

  “Normally I'd partake in the festivities,” he replied tightly.

  “And tonight?”

  “Tonight I'm going to let them have their fun and keep you company. It'll be entertaining to watch. We can just sit back and let the shenanigans unfold.”

  “Sounds promising.”

  He turned a wicked smile to me.

  “You have no idea.”

  * * *

  The drive went by surprisingly fast. The banter amongst the pack was entertaining. I learned a lot about outings past. Arrests. Fights. Boyfriends showing up at inopportune times. It was all very scandalous and fascinating. I also learned a bit more about the guys in our particular car: where they were from, how they came to be with Knox, and how long they'd been there. Some of the responses were shocking indeed.

  “Wait a minute, you're how old?” I asked incredulously, staring over my shoulder at Jagger, who was sitting directly behind me.

  “Ninety-seven. Just like I said.”

  “But you look eighteen!”

  He shrugged
.

  “It's one of the perks. And I was twenty-five when I was Changed, thank you very much. Don't hate on my boyish good looks.”

  “I wouldn't dare,” I gasped in jest. “I guess it never ceases to amaze me that some supernaturals never age.”

  “Have you not been around many?” Knox asked.

  “I...I have.” I stopped myself from elaborating, not wanting to get caught in a lie. I also needed to maintain a certain distance from the pack when it came to my past. I couldn't let them know too much. It was better for all of us that way.

  “You're getting better at this already,” Knox said with a laugh. “Your evasive truths seem to have become second nature overnight.”

  “You set up the rules. I found a way to follow them.”

  “Clever girl,” he muttered under his breath.

  I smiled.

  * * *

  As promised, we went for a quick bite to eat before going to the club that would be the hunting ground, so to speak, for the pack for the evening. And those boys were efficient hunters. We couldn't have been in there for more than ten, maybe twenty minutes before a solid fifteen of them had claimed their bedroom buddy for the evening. A few of those didn't even bother trying to woo their choices; they just walked out of the bar with their prey on their arms, smiling like foxes in the henhouse.

  “Where are they going?” I asked Knox as he handed me a gin and tonic.

  “The hotel next door,” he shouted over the music.

  “Convenient.”

  “Very.”

  He indicated a booth-like seating area near the back and ushered me through the masses, reaching back to take my hand. He navigated the crowd with ease, and I soon found myself tucked into the corner of the padded bench seat, surrounded by werewolves on the prowl.

  The bass was pounding through the speakers at a punishing volume, but it felt good. Familiar. It made me want to go dance like I used to with my boys back in NYC. So, with a few big gulps of my drink, I slammed the glass down on the table and climbed over the guys to head to the dance floor. There was no shortage of entertaining comments along the way, but the sheer volume of the music soon drowned them out. Once I was on the main dance floor, I didn't care anymore. I felt carefree for the first time since I’d run from the mansion.

  Since I’d run from Merc.

  15

  I'd been dancing so hard, I was sweating like a maniac. Unlike every other girl in the club, I wasn't wearing shorts that looked like underwear or a skirt that required one of those TV blackout bars every time the wearer sat down or bent over. Even though it was summer, I wore nothing but jeans. Even with the lightweight tank top I was wearing, I was just too hot. I needed water ASAP.

  I fought my way through the dance floor, headed toward the bar. My path was thick with bodies, and I completely lacked Knox's gift for seamlessly navigating them. It helped that he had about a hundred pounds and about ten inches of height on me. I was hardly intimidating. By the time I squeezed my way through, sweat was trickling down the side of my face. I wiped it off with my hand and rubbed it on my jeans while I waited for the bartender to come my way.

  I surveyed the club-goers, scanning the room from the raised bar area. I spotted a few of the wolves getting cozy with their soon-to-be conquests, and it oddly made me laugh. Those girls had no idea what they were in for. The boys were going to ruin human sex for them for the rest of their lives.

  Once you go supernatural, you never go back, or so I'd heard. I was pretty set on never going back. But when my eyes landed upon a familiar face, I wasn't so certain that would even be an issue.

  Being dead seemed much more likely.

  I could literally feel the blood drain from my face as I watched one of the warlocks that had decided to use me as a bonfire stroll through the front entrance. His dark eyes narrowed, he searched the club for something, or more likely, someone. Monroe might not have been the head of the rogue warlocks, but he was high up the chain, and I highly doubted it was a coincidence that he was there. I needed to escape, and fast. But my feet wouldn't move.

  “No, no, no, no, no,” I repeated to myself, watching him stalk closer to me. He had yet to see me, but where I was standing, it wouldn't take long. I had to hide.

  I bolted out of the bar area, knocking into everyone I encountered along the way. I knew there was an emergency exit at the back. I'd become an expert at casing a place for all points of egress since I’d fled New York. If I could make it there in time, then I'd have a chance.

  With my heart in my stomach, I continued on, hoping that my frantic escape wasn't drawing too much attention. Just as I was about to smash into the push bar on the emergency door, a hand caught my arm.

  “Piper?” Foust yelled over the throbbing bass. The sheer panic in my expression told him all he needed to know. “How many?”

  “Only one.”

  “I'm getting Knox.”

  With my arm still captive, he nearly dragged me back to the booth we'd been occupying earlier. There sat Knox, all alone.

  “We've got a situation,” Foust said, his tone all business. Knox followed Foust's gaze as it turned to me, and his features hardened. “She said there's only one.”

  “One what?”

  “Warlock,” I said, looking around for Monroe. When I finally found him, he was staring at me from across the dance floor. Instinctively, I tried to wrench my arm out of Foust's grip. I needed to get away from Monroe at all costs, and standing around discussing his impending attack wasn't helping.

  Knox didn't reply. Instead, I heard a very distinct growl come from his direction. It was enough to drag my attention away from my would-be attacker. The alpha looked at me with eyes lit with a glowing shade of amber. His wolf was coming out.

  “Not here,” I said, knowing full well that if an incident were to occur, it would draw the attention of the supernatural community, even as far as NYC. I didn't need a clean-up crew to be sent this way. If anyone that knew me was dispatched here and they caught my scent in the building, I'd be sunk. “I need to get away from here. Far away. Now! Will you help me?”

  His answer came in the form of me being thrown over his shoulder and raced out the back door of the club, which set off the emergency alarm. Panic ensued inside, creating what I hoped would be (and Knox had likely planned to be) a diversion that would slow Monroe down, if only a little. Outside, Knox continued to run with me balanced over his shoulder. I looked up to see Foust tight on our heels.

  “The plan?” he shouted up to his alpha.

  “I'm taking her back tonight. You stay here. Round up the boys and take care of the problem. And be careful,” he warned. “Warlocks can be tricky.”

  “Got it,” Foust replied, pulling his cell from his pocket while running. He started barking orders at whoever was on the line, putting Knox's plan in motion.

  In no time at all, we arrived at the cluster of black Suburbans in the parking lot down the block. Knox tossed me into the passenger side and slammed the door, jumping the hood to get to the driver's side. He said something to Foust that I couldn't hear, then they both shot me a wayward glance before Knox jumped in and Foust took off back toward the club.

  “Seat belt,” Knox said tersely, firing up the vehicle. Before I could comply, he tore out of the parking spot in reverse, then slammed the car into drive and peeled out of the lot, turning into the main road without even pausing. He ran red lights, broke the speed limit by double digits, and muttered under his breath the entire time about fucking warlocks. It seemed that maybe I wasn't the only one who had a severe distaste for them.

  Driving in silence, we left the lights of the city behind us, the stars growing in number as we put distance between danger and us. I stared out the passenger window and contemplated the implications of Monroe being at the club that night. None set me at ease.

  “Did he see you?” Knox asked, startling me from my ruminations.

  “Yes.”

  “Can he track you?”

  “I h
ave no idea,” I replied sullenly. “But I don't think it was a coincidence that one of the warlocks who wants me dead just happened to be at a nightclub in Anchorage.”

  “Yeah. That's seems a bit of a stretch.”

  Again silence permeated the vehicle, the hum of the car on the road the only sound to be heard. I knew Knox had to be wondering what he'd gotten himself into when he’d befriended me—offered me protection of sorts. He had no idea what kind of trouble I could bring to his doorstep. And now, having had just a glimpse of it, I wondered just how quickly he would rid himself of the problem I proved to be.

  “Why don't you get some rest,” he said softly. “I'll wake you when we get there.”

  My eyelids were already heavy, the rush of adrenaline long gone, leaving me with only exhaustion and fear. Exhaustion was winning out, though I tried to resist sleep's call. Finally I gave in, resting my head against the window, the darkness of midnight and me separated only by the thin pane of glass.

  But what, I wondered, would separate the creatures of that darkness and me? What, if anything, could keep them away? Those once sworn to protect me had become the very creatures hunting me, and they were not alone in that endeavor--Monroe's presence in the club was proof of that. I could not depend on others to keep me alive. Not anymore. The illusion of safety that had lulled me so sweetly was a dangerous mirage that, if I let it, would lead only to death. I would then bring that death upon the pack trying to protect me from it, and I couldn't accept that fate. I needed to change it.

  As my mind drifted off to the sweet place between wakefulness and slumber, it became clear what I needed to do.

  * * *

  I saw Merc that night.

  Unlike all the nights previous, this time it was not a repeat of the attack and my subsequent escape—the brothers holding Merc back like the wild animal he'd become. The crazed killer he was notorious for being. Instead, it had morphed somehow. Jase and Dean were both there restraining him, but he was not at the staircase as expected. This time he was in his bed, the two of them pinning him down as he bucked wildly against them.