Punish (Feral Justice Book 1)

by Vella Munn

  With the question, Nate’s weary mind cleared. No matter how much he strained to see into the dark, he couldn’t. Despite that, the something’s there sensation grew. He had to grab the fence to keep himself from walking into the night.

  Wayde nodded at the wolf-dogs illuminated by the artificial light. The pack had turned as one and were staring where Nate had been. “You tell me what that’s about.”

  “That might be what I’ve been—what brought me out here.” Nate couldn’t get his voice above a whisper. “This is the last place anyone saw the grays.”

  Wayde grabbed his arm. “What the hell’s going on? You’re shaking like—don’t you go acting like Lobo.”

  Too late. Even though the grays remained hidden, he had no doubt he’d found them.

  Or maybe the truth was they’d found him.

  * * * *

  Despite the lights, noise and uncomfortable hospital chair, Rachelle had fallen asleep. She woke all at once, her heart in overdrive and a dream about being stalked by cats down a filthy alley fading. It took her a moment to orient herself, then another to put the day into order. According to the cardiologist, if he continued to be stable, Dad could be released in a couple of days. Despite his slightly slurred speech and the weakness on his left side, he wouldn’t need to go to a nursing home. As for his living alone, after listening to Dad’s insistence that he wasn’t no damn cripple needing a keeper, the cardiologist had dropped the decision in her lap. She’d said she intended to stay with him for as long as he needed her, and Dad hadn’t objected.

  Even when the two of them were alone, they hadn’t mentioned the dogs. She hadn’t had to decide whether to tell him about Nate’s involvement.

  The clock said it was after nine p.m. Her dad was snoring, no reason for her not to go home.

  Where was Nate?

  Groaning, she stood and headed into the hall. She’d lost count of how many times she’d talked herself out of trying to get in touch with Nate since they’d left her dad’s place. It bothered her that he hadn’t checked in to see how Dad was doing, but maybe he hadn’t had time. And maybe he was deliberately avoiding her.

  What did that say about the two of them? They’d worked together to save a man’s life and had had sex, but he didn’t want to talk to her.

  She managed to get into her car, fasten her seat belt, and turn on the engine before she gave up and hauled her cell out of her pocket.

  The phone rang four times, and as his voice message started to play, she debated what, if any, message she’d leave on it.

  “Rachelle? Hold on. I’m here.”

  He knew it was her because he must have programed her number into his cell phone. The knowledge destroyed her conflicting emotions where he was concerned and brought her to the brink of tears. She couldn’t speak.

  “Rachelle? Are you there?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry. I wanted you to know that Dad—he isn’t going to need surgery.”

  “I’m glad.”

  He was. She heard the truth in his tone. “What about you? Are you all right?”

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Have you told them that the grays are Dad’s?”

  “Not yet.”

  Yet. “Why not?”

  “Joe doesn’t need this right now. I bought a few hours.”

  “It can’t be as simple as that.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Especially for you. “I shouldn’t say this but would you like to meet somewhere? Maybe you’d like to talk.”

  “Talk?” He was silent for a moment. “Yeah, I think I need that. Where?”

  “My place,” she blurted. “Or Dad’s.”

  More silence. “Maybe your father’s. The grays might come home.”

  * * * *

  Rachelle flipped the switch to the outside light. Then, although it was getting colder, she sat in the porch chair and waited for Nate. Neither of them had brought up the obvious pitfall to their meeting place. She couldn’t guess his reasons, but hers were wrapped up in bone-deep exhaustion and rubbed-raw nerves.

  Bottom line, she didn’t want to be alone. Wanted to spend the night with this man she barely knew and should fear and hate.

  When she heard his approaching vehicle, she wondered if the grays—and the wolf-dog, if he was with them—might be watching. Her skin prickled but she couldn’t say whether that came from awareness of their presence, her dad’s imprint on the place or knowing Nate had arrived. Maybe all three.

  The engine died, and when Nate didn’t immediately get out, she wondered if he was having the same doubts. Finally the door opened, and he started toward her. Cool sweat broke out on her.

  “We need to keep better hours,” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m learning I make a lousy night owl.”

  “You don’t look it.”

  Was that a compliment? Maybe he was simply trying to come up with something to say. He took the chair next to her and slouched until the chair back supported his head. His sprawled, muscled legs snagged her attention.

  “Have you told anyone about Joe’s stroke?” he asked.

  “Anyone?”

  “Relatives. Friends.”

  “No. He has a brother, but I don’t know how to reach him. Then there’s a cousin. He’s in prison. We haven’t talked about his friends. Maybe he’s like me, a bit of a loner.”

  “What about your mother? Would she care?”

  “My mother is the most self-absorbed person I’ve ever known. From the moment I told her about moving back here, it became a forbidden subject. Deep down she’s insecure, always needing verification of her worth. She’s had at least two facelifts, although she’ll never admit it.”

  “How do you know?”

  She wasn’t sure Nate cared about the woman who’d given birth to her, but she needed to share some of her private world with him.

  “We see each other a couple of times a year. I can tell. Mom and I have this unspoken rule. I don’t touch subjects she isn’t comfortable with, such as her lousy record with men, her inability to manage money, the passing years. She’s scared to death of growing old. Having a grown daughter reinforces that she’s well past the blush of youth.”

  “So the two of you don’t live close to each other?”

  A frog started croaking. Even knowing it wouldn’t do any good, she nevertheless tried to locate it. When had she last been so aware of the way the moon touched the world with silver hues? The world beyond this place no longer existed. Despite her exhaustion, she wanted the night to go on forever.

  “I left home when I was eighteen, a week after I graduated high school. I thought—this is going to sound petty and immature, but in part I wanted to see how she’d react to having her only child leave. It took her a month to come see where I’d moved to. She didn’t attend my college graduation because her man of the moment wanted to take her gambling that weekend. Sad, isn’t it?”

  “For you. A child needs to be loved.”

  “Yes,” she whispered when she could speak. “I think—I know that’s why Dad meant so much to me when we were living together. He loved me unconditionally.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “Yes, he is. Too good for what’s happening to him.”

  Nate reached out and brushed her forearm with warm fingers. Electric fingers. “There’s one thing we can be grateful for about his stroke. He doesn’t know the latest.”

  She’d suggested they get together so Nate would have someone to confide in about what had been a day from hell for him, but maybe he didn’t want to tackle that subject any more than she did. Not tonight.

  “What about your parents?” she asked. “And for the record, I haven’t seen or heard from my sperm donor since I was five, so that’s a non-subject.”

  “They’re dead.”

  Their brief contact had been enough to warn her of her fragile self-control where he was concerned, so why was she placing her hand over the back of his? “Both of them? Nate, I’m so so
rry.”

  He glanced at what she’d done then went back to studying their surroundings.

  “Losing my dad was hard.” He spoke so softly she had to strain to hear. “We were close and the cancer… As for my mother, yours reminds me of her.”

  She concentrated on running her fingers between his. Another electric message sped from the contact to heat her.

  “She was an alcoholic. She died when I was just eight so my memories of her are foggy, but I remember seeing her stumble. Sometimes her speech slurred. In fact…”

  Despite the growing danger and excitement, she couldn’t stop giving Nate the comfort of her touch, if that’s all it was.

  “That’s my overriding memory of her. Dad said that when they got married he thought she was a social drinker. Once he realized how bad things were, he wanted to get a divorce, but he was afraid she’d get custody of me. He went through hell.”

  She stopped caressing his fingers and rested her hand on his. “So did your mother.”

  “Yeah, she did. She cried a lot. I remember—there weren’t fights between my parents so much as her promising to get sober and him begging her to prove it. Several times she left. Dad didn’t say anything, but my guess is she was in some kind of treatment center.”

  “None of those centers helped?”

  “Maybe for a short while.” He sighed. “I haven’t talked about her for a long time. After she died, Dad and I, I guess we developed this unspoken agreement. If the subject of my mother and his wife didn’t come up, we didn’t have to think about her.”

  “I don’t believe you. Just because you two didn’t mention her name doesn’t mean she didn’t remain part of your lives.”

  Nate slumped back but continued to return her gaze. “You’re right. Maybe it would have been better if Dad and I’d laid everything on the table, but we didn’t.”

  Nate had been a child then. The responsibility for wound healing had been his father’s but the older man had locked the door on the most important chapter in their lives. Had Nate’s father ever regretted his cowardice? Not that it mattered anymore.

  “How did she die?”

  “Auto accident. She’d decided to pick me up after school.”

  “She drove drunk?”

  “It was hardly the first time. Dad kept taking the keys from her, but—he figured she must have had spare sets made. She hit a cement pillar head-on and broke her neck. The alcohol in her system was off the charts. She lived a few hours.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to press him to continue, to ask how he’d learned those details. At the beginning she’d been suspicious and a little afraid of him because he represented the law. That now felt like a lifetime ago.

  More frogs had joined the first. Would they stop if the grays approached?

  Nate abruptly stood and walked to the low railing. “The dogs have been following me. Hell, maybe on a subconscious level I’ve been trying to find them in a way that has nothing to do with my job. I’ve started wondering if I’m losing my mind.”

  Scared for both of them, she positioned herself behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. When she rested her cheek against his back, his rapid heartbeat alarmed her. Much as she wanted to reassure him that he wasn’t going crazy, she couldn’t.

  “I’ve been wondering,” he said, “if having Lobo with them will change the way they operate. Earlier this evening I went to where he’d been kenneled. I suppose I should call Wayde his owner, but Lobo isn’t a creature anyone can own. All the time I was there I had the feeling…”

  “That all four were watching you?”

  “Yeah.”

  She didn’t scare easily, but the isolated setting, night and conversation had her wishing they were behind a locked door. She tightened her hold.

  “What about now?”

  He tensed. She was still trying to get her heart rate under control when he turned and put his arms around her. “The feeling’s there,” he whispered. “But I don’t know whether to believe it.”

  Emotion upon emotion banked inside her until she couldn’t separate arousal from fear.

  “I think—” She struggled to pull her thoughts together. “Nate, you have to trust your instinct. Maybe we should go inside.”

  “I don’t think the grays will hurt you. They know you’re part of Joe.”

  “He and I aren’t related by blood. Much as I’d love to be able to trust them, I don’t know if I can. Besides, with Lobo added to the mix—”

  He pushed her away but only so he could loop his arm around her and turn them so they faced the door. “How is it going to end?”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The grays and the wolf-dog watched as the two humans disappeared inside the small house. Smoke waited until the door closed, then slunk forward on her belly. Her companions and she had been there long enough that she was convinced only the man and woman were at Food-man’s place. The female had pulled the pain-stones out of her chest, and she cared for Food-man, but that didn’t mean she could be trusted.

  Mystery-man, maybe, posed a greater problem. From the first day she’d become aware of his existence, she’d sense a connection with him but didn’t understand it. The Force knew a great deal about the man but so far it hadn’t shared its wisdom.

  Smoke wanted Food-man here. His absence made her anxious. It took all her self-control not to whine. At least, thanks to the wolf’s kill, she wasn’t hungry. Her brothers and she had watched as the wolf had cornered a raccoon and snapped its neck. The warm, raw meat had tasted strange. Good.

  The newcomer wasn’t a full wolf, she needed to remember that, but he had wild in him and her body needed wild.

  When she stopped just short of the clearing around the house where Food-man lived, the wolf pressed his muzzle against the side of her neck. Angry and aroused, she spun around. He licked her cheek, touched her with his wild. He was dangerous and yet she wanted to be with him.

  To mate with him.

  “Not tonight,” the wolf said. Then he turned his attention to where Food-man should be. As she studied his steady stare, she accepted why she and her brothers had compelled him to join them.

  He was pure predator. Food in their bellies. Another set of fangs.

  He could be taught to avenge.

  * * * *

  Rachelle didn’t speak. Bolder and more needful than she believed possible, she undressed. Nate and she stood in the darkened living room. The relative privacy had nothing to do with her quick stripping. She craved sex, craved him.

  He studied her without movement until she was naked. Then, putting her in mind of a predator after his prey, he closed in on her. A small part of her urged her to run, but she stood her ground. Waited. Groaning, he lifted her and carried her into the bedroom. He dropped her on her dad’s bed, the bed they’d already had sex in.

  Saying nothing, he dispensed with his clothes. A film of light from the moon touched his naked, aroused body. Undone by her heat, she scrambled onto her knees, grabbed his hand and tried to pull him to her.

  “Wait. Not yet.”

  Damn the need for protection!

  When he pulled a condom from his wallet, she wondered how he’d managed to think of it in the wake of everything he’d been through since last night, and if he’d suspected they’d wind up here.

  “We don’t have to talk about what we’re doing,” he said as he positioned himself at the side of the bed. “We want the same thing.”

  Trembling in anticipation, she pressed her palms against his middle. “It goes deeper than want, Nate. We need.”

  “Yeah, we do.”

  He slid his hands over her shoulders. His rough finger pads carried lightning that slipped beneath her skin and seared her blood.

  Touch and retreat, touch and retreat. One, then the other taking the lead in this thing called foreplay. She’d been half drunk on him from the moment he showed up. Now, holding back nothing, she caressed every inch of his flesh she could touch. She didn’t hesitate stroki
ng his cock, didn’t hold back from touching her lips to his groin.

  His hands painted her arms, breasts and belly with fire. Her mind swirled, and she panted like an animal.

  “Now,” a voice she barely recognized whispered. “Please, now.”

  As he crawled onto the bed, his greater weight tipped her toward him. Hoping to remain upright, she planted her hands on his chest. A moment later it didn’t matter, and she collapsed against him.

  They stretched out together, arms and legs entwined and mouths seeking.

  He rolled over, bringing her with him so she was on top. The animal she was becoming issued its demands, compelling her to sit up and straddle him. Lifting herself as high as she could, she grasped his erection and directed it. Eyes closed so she could concentrate on this one thing, she lowered herself onto him.

  “Yes.” His fingers clamped onto her hips, and he held her in place. For long seconds they stayed like that, their bodies locked. Then, thinking to trail her breasts over his chest, she leaned forward.

  Releasing her hips and grasping her sides, he stopped her in mid-lean. Even with him filling her and the vulnerability and power that went with the act, she turned herself over to him. Let him decide everything—for now.

  Still locked together, he rolled them onto their sides. Looping a leg over his hips, she held on as he repeatedly drove into her.

  Her mind stuttered and winked out. Only Nate’s body, Nate having sex with her mattered. She bit and scratched then turned gentle. His taste on her tongue took her inside herself. When he shifted so he was on top, she held on, trying to become part of him.

  A cramp threatened in her right calf, but it didn’t matter because—oh yes, because hunger ruled her. Every time either of them moved, heat dug deeper and became more intense. Joyfully lost, she turned herself over to pleasure and release. She came. Kept coming.

  Strength flowed from her, left her helpless. The man on top—her lover—thrust into her once, twice more. Came himself.

  * * * *