The Alpha

by Cynthia Carole

  She breathed in deep. Six wolves, she estimated—a small pack then. In San Diego, the packs had run upwards to thirty or forty individuals. She had been living with just her brother though for three years, and six wolves seemed like plenty to her.

  “You’re awake.” The Sheriff stepped out from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. His short, dark hair was mussed, and his hazel eyes held a gold gleam. “Want dinner?”

  Sexiness radiated from his tan skin, the slope of his wide shoulders, and the nonchalant grace of his every move. His alpha magnetism did something to her knees, and she gripped the railing tighter. Am I going to swoon now? Or just roll over and give him my neck? She hated how her wolf wanted to grovel.

  His gold-hazel gaze met hers, and she lowered her eyes, despite her best intentions to stand up to him. It wasn’t wise to meet an alpha’s stare for very long. The wolf saw that as a challenge. She fought the urge to flee back to the guest room, and walked down the stairs, taking them one at a time. The logs shifted in the fire, and the flames crackled.

  “I need to get moving. You have my car?”

  His scent fluttered her stomach and sent warmth downward.

  He had traded his uniform for faded jeans and a flannel shirt—his gun belt and revolver were nowhere to be seen. But then a gun on a werewolf was redundant. Anything a werewolf couldn’t take down with his hands probably couldn’t be killed with a mere bullet or even an assault rifle.

  Maybe a tank. She wished she had a tank—for that was exactly the kind of creature coming after her. Something a mere werewolf couldn’t and shouldn’t fight.

  “I need to go. You want me to go,” she said, meeting his eyes but trying not to give him a challenge. She took the last step and faced him. The smells coming from kitchen, stewed beef, garlic, rosemary, filled her nose and made her stomach growl. Her cheeks reddened at the audible sound.

  He quirked a dark eyebrow. “Tell me why you’re running. You want coffee with your soup?”

  She sighed. Alphas were always giving orders. She wasn’t part of his pack though and didn’t have to listen to him. Well, not really. His voice compelled her, his aura of dominance made her want to obey, at least partly, but she had experience with alphas. She knew how to hold her own ground. Crossing her arms, she glared.

  His lips twitched. “You do not like to be told what to do. Look at you. Your hackles are up, aren’t they?”

  “Excuse me for being a free adult who doesn’t have to listen to you. I am not your problem,” she replied with a small growl.

  He didn’t seem fazed. “You need help and I’m offering. I don’t see why you’re so defensive.”

  Defensive? She crossed her arms. “You kidnapped me!”

  He had the nerve to shrug. “You passed out on the street. What was I to do? Lock you up in a cell? I can’t have strange werewolves passing out on the day before the full moon. Now tell me what is going on, Deanna. Why are you running like you got all of hell on your tail?”

  “I’m…” She hesitated and looked away. I like you, the creature had whispered. I’m going to kill everyone you know. “I’m being hunted by a vampire.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  A plump woman bustled into the room, dishes rattling on the tray in her hands. She tossed back her shag-cut, silver hair and set her burden on the coffee table. The smell of hot soup drifted out from under the lid. Beef. Deanna’s stomach went from a gentle rumble to a loud demand.

  The older woman’s eyes twinkled. “Stop bothering that girl, Creed, and let her eat. We can’t have hungry wolves in the house.” She smiled at Deanna. “Now my name is Margy and you sit down and eat, dear. You must be starving.”

  The kindness brought tears to Deanna’s eyes, and though she still thought she should leave as soon as possible, how could she offend Margy? After introductions the woman settled her on the couch and let her eat, talking of nonessentials and chatting with the Sheriff as if she always spent her evenings feeding strangers who were pursued by bloodsucking fiends. Maybe she did. What did Deanna know?

  Sheriff Creed sat in one of the wide chairs near the fire and sipped his coffee. Deanna fought the feeling of security that washed over her. It was a side effect of being close to an alpha and in the presence of other wolves, nothing more. Like the buzz from a beer, it wouldn’t last and could only lead to trouble.

  The rest of the pack was in the house, but she suspected they were keeping their distance because Creed didn’t want to spook her. She counted six distinct scents, but only two females—herself and Margy. That was unusual for a pack—the norm was to go in the other direction, more females than males, since men were the mostly likely to go “lone wolf” and leave.

  Her hand to her full stomach, she sat back against the soft leather of the couch and smiled at Margy. “Thank you, ma’am. That was delicious.”

  Margy’s eyes sparkled. “I can see that you hated it. I’m not even sure that bowl will need to be washed, it’s so clean.”

  The teasing words and the gentle expression on Margy’s face reminded Deanna of her grandmother and pain stabbed beneath her rib cage, as if she were taking a stake to the heart. She clutched her fingers to her chest, and tears blurred her vision. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

  “Now, now. Tell us your story. We’ll help if we can.” Margy patted her shoulder. Werewolves were demonstrative people, at least within their own pack.

  But Deanna wasn’t pack. She wiped the tears from her cheeks. “You can’t help. Trust me.”

  “Just tell us what happened.” Creed spoke gently, but with unmistakable command.

  She couldn’t resist and the words tumbled out, one on top of the other. “My brother and I live in Sage, in eastern California, up in the Sierra Mountains. It’s so beautiful there, just sky, granite, and hills. We moved in with Nana when we left our…” She fell silent. Why they had left San Diego was another story. She blinked her eyes and continued.

  “I’m a schoolteacher and my brother’s a lawyer.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed. Margy shifted closer, and put her arm around Deanna’s shoulders. It was so good to be near someone, touching someone. She hadn’t had the support of pack in so long.

  Her voice trembled as she continued. Grief clenched her gut. “I was leaving the local bar after a glass of wine with a coworker, and I… I was stopped. A vampire. I don’t know why he was there, or why he grabbed me. He just said he liked me.”

  The soft, whispery voice whispered at the back of her mind, and she tried to free herself of the memory. His hands had gripped her shoulders with a strength even a werewolf couldn’t break. She had been moments from death, the parking lot lights yellow and buzzing and the smell of beer coming to her from the cracked open door of the bar. Neon had flashed from the darkened windows—red and blue reflected in the vampire’s eyes.

  Creed joined her on the couch as she shivered from the memory. His body heat, higher than a normal human’s, warmed her one side while Margy pressed close on the other. Touch soothed her. She tried to say the next part without emotion. But the memory came back hard, hitting her like blows. Awakened in the middle of her grandmother’s family room by the sun piercing the windows, she had seen blood. Blood and pieces of flesh. Her grandmother’s head was on the fireplace. “Who’s next?” was written in dripping smears on the wall.

  Sobs shook her. Creed pulled her onto his lap and she pressed her face into his hard, muscled neck. The pain that constricted her heart would probably never leave her. I’m so sorry I failed you Nana.

  “I ran,” she said softly, sniffing. “I didn’t know what else to do, but I had to lead him away from town. My brother is furious with me. He wasn’t at the house that night and didn’t know. I thought if I could just get far enough away…maybe the rest of the town would be safe and Chris. He never admits that there’s something he can’t do, can’t handle. I just couldn’t lose him too.”

  She pushed back from Creed
, wiping at her face. “But I don’t know where to go. And now I’ve probably led him into your town. I have to keep moving. I’ve been here too long already.”

  “So are we going to kill this vampire, or what?” a new voice asked from across the room. She stiffened, but her nose told her it was one of Creed’s wolves—and soon she saw all four of the others enter. They were an assorted group of werewolves, all male and all very aware of their space and standing. The one who spoke had to be the second in command. He was large and handsome, with skin so dark he could have disappeared into the night except for his bright teeth and the white of his eyes.

  She breathed in the air, taking each of their scents, letting them wrap around her like a warm blanket. The feeling of family and security brought yet more tears. It had been so long since she had felt pack. For just a moment she wanted to luxuriate in the heated closeness. Creed’s arms around her were rock hard, bands of steel, and she was very aware of her bottom on his lap.

  “Why don’t you have a pack, Deanna?” one of the men asked. He had silvery- peppered hair.

  “My brother and I left a San Diego pack to go live with my grandmother.” That wasn’t the whole story, but she had shared enough with these people, who, despite the feeling of community, were strangers.

  Silent communication was common in a pack, and she could feel it going on around her. It wasn’t really telepathy, but more a sort of empathy, a shared awareness. Two of the werewolves headed for the door.

  “Are they going to get my car?” She stood up, ignoring the pain in her heart, and trying to put aside the feeling of rejection. How could they not reject her? And she hadn’t been asking for help anyway—why ask for something you couldn’t get? Creed didn’t want a vampire stalking in his territory. The best bet for protecting his people, both normal and werewolf, was to send her on her way.

  Her wolf so badly wanted to stay though. Instincts clutched her, told her that safety came in numbers. Her human reasoning kept her from begging them. She’d just get someone killed. She lifted her bag from the floor and slid the strap over her shoulder.

  Creed rose, his face unreadable. His gold eyes danced with the firelight as he gazed at her. “They’ve gone to see if the vampire has entered our territory. If he tracked you here, Deanna, we’re going to take care of him.”

  “He’ll follow me out of town—”

  “And then what? You can’t run forever and he can. I’m not acting just as an alpha. I’m also the elected Sheriff, and I’ve promised to keep the citizens of my county safe.”

  “Your wolves are going to get hurt. Killed. I don’t want that on my conscience,” she said. “Just let me go.” He was like her father had been, and like Chris was now—these men never listened. She was trying to save his wolves, damn it!

  “So this vamp is chasing you across state lines? He’s a determined bloodsucker. Maybe one of us should mention this to Henri.” The big black werewolf smiled, a flash of white teeth in his dark face. She wondered why he didn’t have his own pack yet—he certainly had enough charisma.

  “It’s a hunter,” commented the older man. “Some of those vamps are crazy. I think it comes from living for centuries. And why get Henri involved? We can take care of one leech all on our own.” He rubbed his hands together.

  She shook her head. “You’re mad! You don’t know what you’re talking about. A vamp is six times as tough as a werewolf.” She glared at Creed, knowing that it was a bad idea to challenge him, but a small growl escaped her throat at her frustration. “Just let me leave. I don’t want to be the cause of any more deaths.”

  “I’m not holding you prisoner,” he said, calm but with unmistakable warning in his tone. “Wait until morning, and we’ll talk again.” His dominance exuded from every pore of his body, and her wolf wanted to back down and curl at his feet. She snorted, disgusted. She headed for the front door. Her wolf’s need for pack was going to get them all killed, and she didn’t want anything more on her conscience. Better to die alone.

  She grabbed open the door and stepped out into the night, the cool summer air caressing her face with the scents of freedom, wild woods, and old growth forest. The nearly full moon sang to her, whispering with power. She dug her nails into her palms. Not yet. Not now.

  Bright outdoor lights around the cabin illuminated several cars and trucks parked in the gravel driveway. Thick pines bristled darkly on the edge of the clearing, silhouetted against the midnight blue sky pinpricked with a thousand stars.

  She found her grandmother’s Mercedes, but the Sheriff’s Jeep and two trucks wedged it in. She cursed under her breath but heard Creed chuckle behind her.

  Anger made her reckless. She whirled around to glower at his large silhouette. “How dare you hold me against my will!” Her shoulders hunched and another growl filled her throat. The outdoor floodlights blinded her, and she had to look away.

  She heard him take a step closer. “Look, little wolf, I’ll let you go, but don’t be a fool or a martyr. I’m offering you the pack’s help, but whether you want it or not, I’m going to take care of that vampire.”

  She clenched her fists. “Just like an alpha. You need to control everything. Won’t admit that maybe you can’t handle something.” Her brother was just that way, which was why she had left him fuming back in Sage.

  Creed came even closer, now his bulk blocked the light. “And you aren’t doing exactly that? Do you think you can fight this vampire and win?” He loomed over her with rings of gold-fire in his eyes glowing from his backlit face. The wolf in him rippled close to the surface, and so did hers, and it took all her human willpower not to put her metaphoric tail between her legs and lower her eyes. His power came off him in waves and traveled with his scent right into her most primitive places. The sexual tension between them grew until it was painful. She wanted to submit to him in all ways—but she wouldn’t. That was just wolf. The animal in her.

  You are a person first, her father used to say.

  “No,” she finally answered, her voice hushed and serious. “I don’t think I’ll win. I know I’m going to die. I didn’t want to leave him in my town. My brother is all the family I have left, and I taught third grade; I was worried for the kids. I know a lot of children and families.”

  “So you’ll leave him in my town, to kill the children that I’ve sworn to protect?”

  “No!” She bit her tongue. What could she do? “I’ll keep moving.”

  “Where? The north pole?” She could feel his body heat now and tilted her head to gaze up at him.

  “You don’t know…” she started.

  “How hard it is to kill a vampire? I do. Trust me.” He raised his hand and touched her cheek, moving slow and giving her every chance to back up. She found her legs locked in place. His fingers grazed down her flesh, coming to her jaw line and tracing it to her chin. She thought he would kiss her—his hot breath was on her face—but instead, he bent his head to her ear and took her earlobe in his mouth. He ran the edge of his teeth up her ear, her entire body shivering and warming.

  Her knees weakened and a small sound escaped her mouth. Her body tingled with awareness and sensitivity.

  “Be my mate,” he whispered. “Can’t you feel the power between us?”

  “No,” she raised her hands and meant to push him away, but instead she gripped his broad, hard shoulders. Desire cascaded through her—pure, pulsating need. He’s a stranger! I don’t want this.

  But he was right. Something was between them, some purely physical connection—like the pull of magnets when turned in opposite directions. God, she was already moist and ready for him. Part of her burned with embarrassment, but the wolf was rising, growing stronger in the moonlight. She opened her mouth to protest but instead bit lightly on his neck. She tasted his hot, salty skin. His arms, rock hard bands of strength, pulled her closer, her breasts tight against his chest and her nipples like pellets, small and hard.

  He growled, picking her up and carrying her as if she weighed
nothing. He couldn’t move fast enough for her—she wanted him so badly—until he entered the cabin. The family room was empty, but she suddenly realized what she was doing. She was not going to sleep with a complete stranger and especially not with an alpha.

  He hesitated too as they left the moonlight, and she could see his own control return. He set her down and ran a hand through his dark hair. The fire crackled in the sudden silence and sent sparks twirling up the chimney. “What the hell…” he muttered, turning from her.

  She drew in a ragged breath. Her heart beat too hard in her chest, like a drum at the end of a solo. “Has that ever happened to you before?”

  “No.” He still didn’t meet her eyes.

  They both turned toward the open door at the same time—she stopped breathing and he crouched, as if ready to spring.

  The unmistakable smell of vampire drifted in on the night breeze.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Creed slammed the door with his foot at the same moment the other wolves were back. Two changed already—one of those was Margy, whose alter shape had grey-black fur and silvery blue eyes. She panted a bit and nudged Deanna’s hand with her cold nose.

  Deanna couldn’t help herself, she knelt and put her arms around the other female, holding the smell of fur and pack to her as the memories hit her. She closed her eyes and trembled.

  “He can’t enter. My house is warded,” Creed said with authority. “And Stan and Jessie know to keep their distance.”

  “But we never tested Isabel’s warding,” the older man said, his nostrils flaring in excitement and eyes flashing with sudden brightness. He was close to shifting. Deanna could feel the spark of current in the air. It called to her wolf.

  “We should hunt,” said Creed’s second. He paced near the windows, moving with incredible grace. Muscles clenching and rippling beneath his tight T-shirt.