by Beverly Rae
She’s a real wild cat…in and out of bed.
Wild Things, Book 2
Alexandra’s brother has changed since his mate’s death, but she’s certain he’s no cattle killer. When she gets the chance to track down the real culprit, she jumps at the opportunity to clear the suspicions hovering over his head. And maybe ease her own grief.
Connor would do anything for Alex—even be her mate if she would only ask. Instead he settles for coming with her, ready to protect her from the rogue as well as human hunters. When another tracker shows up accusing them of the crime, though, there’s no stopping Alex’s instant attraction to the lone werewolf.
Dirk is on the same mission, but for a different reason: His pack owes one of the ranchers a favor. Once he finds Alex examining the latest bovine victim, though, he shifts his goals to include her mile-long legs wrapped around his waist. If only he can get past her interfering friend.
Trigger-happy hunters send them all into hiding, where huddling for warmth turns hotter than expected. The heat burns away any pretense that this is a sexual romp. It’s a destined love that a killer could destroy…unless Alex makes a heartbreaking choice.
Warning: Beware of claws, fangs and weapons of a very personal nature. The sex is hot and raw, including the kind of threesome you’d love to have. Oh, yeah, and a heart-wrenching plot.
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520
Macon GA 31201
Wild Cat
Copyright © 2010 by Beverly Rae
ISBN: 978-1-60928-244-8
Edited by Jennifer Miller
Cover by Kanaxa
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2010
www.samhainpublishing.com
Wild Cat
Beverly Rae
Dedication
I usually thank my supportive and loving husband who gave me the first nudge into the writing world. However, I think it’s time to thank the other two big supporters in my life: my parents. They suffered through my early creative years, oohing and ahhing over one awful poem after another, then into my tumultuous teen years and, finally, into adulthood where I found not only my singing voice, but my literary voice as well. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
Chapter One
“Shit, shit, shit.” Alex skirted the bloodied area and knelt beside the mutilated carcass. “That’s the third one today.”
Batting the flies away, she held her breath against the putrefying stench and was glad she’d had the forethought to tie her hair into a ponytail. She wished she’d brought a handkerchief to cover her nose.
Once again, Alex reconsidered her decision to track the rogue werecat responsible for the cattle attacks. But it wasn’t like she really had a choice. She could either accept the growing suspicion that her brother was the killer, or she could volunteer to find the real culprit. Either way, the situation sucked, but she’d made her choice, coming down on the side of proving her brother’s innocence.
Understanding why her people assumed that Bryer was the killer wasn’t difficult. After his mate had been fatally shot by hunters, he’d changed, growing bitter and angry. Then, when the council had refused his demand for retribution, he’d spurned the pride, vowing to make them pay along with the hunters. Bryer’s words of hate and pain the night he’d stood before the council, condemning them, ripped through her, taking her away from the gruesome mutilation.
“Alex? Did you hear me?”
She jerked, bringing herself back to the present. “Uh, no. I’m sorry. What did you say?”
Conner, Alex’s best friend and childhood companion, squatted beside her. “I said that, from the way she’s torn apart, the cat must be a massive one. Definitely bigger than any regular mountain lion and much bigger than any werecat I’ve ever seen…”
She could almost hear the unspoken “with the exception of your brother” hanging in the air. Glaring at her friend, she gritted her teeth and counted to ten, letting the rush of irritation pass. She couldn’t fault Conner. After all, he’d chosen to come along with her when no one else would. He’d come with her not only to support her brother, but in hopes of scoring points with her. Once again, she wondered if she could have a life with Conner as her mate. After all, if anyone had proven his love for her, it was Conner. But the extra spark, the underlying connection she yearned for, just wasn’t strong enough.
Alex studied the handsome shifter. He was tall and lean with enough muscles to make her feel safe in his arms. His long black hair fell across his forehead, serving to highlight the sparkle in his obsidian eyes. In short, Conner was exactly the way she liked her males. Not for the first time, she sighed, easily imagining sex with him, her limbs wrapped around him, holding him to her. But was sex the extent of any relationship they could share? In fact, knowing he wanted her for his mate kept her from accepting his sexual advances. Even after she’d started using sex to drive away the loneliness, the hole in her life her brother had left, she’d kept her friend at arm’s length. Still, if she relented and took him to bed, would that help clarify her feelings for him? As she’d done so many times before, she pushed the questions away and focused on the present.
She nodded, then moved away from the rotting animal. “Yeah, that’s a werecat’s work, all right. Just like the others.”
“Like I said, one helluva big cat, too.” He paused and released a heavy sigh. “One as big as Bryer.”
She whirled on him, flashing fangs and sprouting claws. “Bryer didn’t do this. He couldn’t be this cruel, this wasteful. And he wouldn’t put the pride in danger by stirring up the ranchers. I don’t care what he said that night at the council. You know my brother, Conner, so how can you think that?”
She fisted her hands, not to keep from hitting him, but to rid herself of the uncertainty clawing its way into her gut. Memories of her brother sobbing on her shoulder, then swearing to tear human hunters apart flashed through her mind, but she forced them away. She looked away from Conner. Bryer had no one left, no one else to stand by him. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, give up on him.
“He’s changed in the past year, Alex. After Lara died—”
“Leave his mate out of this.” If only Lara had lived, then maybe Bryer wouldn’t have changed, wouldn’t have grown cold and hard. But multiple wounds had proven too much for the young werecat and the baby she’d carried. Alex swallowed the lump forming in her throat, defiantly lifted her head and confronted Conner.
Although she could see the argument in his eyes, Conner raised his hands and nodded in agreement. “Okay, okay. Take it easy, Stretch.”
The childhood nickname, given to her because she’d towered over other female werecats, didn’t lessen the anguish twisting her heart. Again she pushed away the horrible images trying to invade her thoughts and drew her body straighter. Instead, she pictured her brother chasing her around the hillside, tumbling over her in good-natured roughhousing. He’d grown from a pesky little brother into a wonderful, caring man. A man who’d had everything, a bright and happy future. Until the day Lara died. From that day o
n, he was no longer the playful free spirit she loved. Oh, how she missed his spontaneity and joking nature. It was as if the world had gone dark. She glanced at the carcass and shook her head. She had to believe in the brother she’d once known.
“Do you two like tearing dumb animals apart? Or is it because you like your meat rotten?”
Alex’s snarl matched Conner’s and together they spun toward the voice. She squinted into the sun, trying to see more than the outline of the figure standing on the nearby rocks. Resisting the urge to change into her werecat form, she slowly raised her hand to shield her eyes from the glare. Shadowed from the light, she could see the man clearer, his long form spreading wide at the muscled shoulders. His chest pushed against the denim material, highlighting the rock-hard abs beneath. A lock of dark hair flopped over his forehead, but it was his bright blue eyes that caught her attention. The laughter in them unsettled her and she dragged her gaze past the sensuous lips to the strong jaw. The tug inside her abdomen hit her, throwing her emotional equilibrium further off-base. Her vaginal walls tightened, cueing her libido’s quickening. If ever she’d wanted to eat a man alive, this was the one. Then he grinned and she almost moaned with desire. His sexy, devil-may-care grin shot a hot lust-filled rush through her that had her swaying on her feet.
She cleared her throat, making sure her words wouldn’t come out in a bedroom breath. “Who wants to know?”
“Oooh, she’s a feisty little kitty.” His grin grew wider. A grin reminiscent of the kind her brother used to brighten her day. She fought the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
She tilted her head and took a harder look at him. Not too many humans could recognize a shifter so quickly. “Trust me. My claws are a whole lot sharper than a kitty’s. You’d better hope you don’t find that out.”
Conner stepped to her side, his body coiled and ready for action. “Listen to the lady and leave, cowboy, while you still have the chance.”
The sexy stranger glanced at her friend, then turned back to her, dismissing him. “And let you bring down another one? Uh, nope. Not happening.”
“We didn’t do this. Or the others.” Intrigued, she narrowed her eyes at him and wondered why he wasn’t worried about facing off, unarmed and alone, against two werecats. Alex crossed over to the other side of the small clearing, putting the sun to the side of her. “Besides, how do we know you’re not the responsible one?” Yet she instinctively knew he wasn’t. After all, this wasn’t the work of a human. If he was human. She sniffed, wanting to catch his scent, but he’d done a good job of keeping upwind of them.
“Ah, so you know there’s been more than one sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” She eased closer, her predator instincts kicking in, her body tensing for a fight. In the past—before Lara’s death—she wouldn’t have been so cautious. She used to greet others openly, curious to meet new people. But Bryer wasn’t the only one who’d changed that horrible day.
He studied her movements, the tips of his mouth quirking upward again. “From the amount of meat left on the carcasses, the animals weren’t used for food. Besides, even a full-grown cougar wouldn’t bring down three cows in one day. Nope. These killings are for show. Ugly presents to stir up the ranchers.” His gaze met hers, relaying knowledge of her game. “But I’m pretty sure you already knew that.”
She almost smiled in return, but caught herself again. Better to not let him know how charming he was. However, she couldn’t stop the quickening of her pulse. How long had it been since she’d enjoyed the company of a fun, sexy man? Conner was smart and handsome, but he lacked the clever wit, the quick laugh she’d always found attractive. Catching a questioning glance from Conner, she vowed to keep her head on the business at hand and ignore the other parts of her body trying to monopolize her attention.
“Alex, why are we bothering with him? We have work to do.” The tension radiating off Conner prickled her skin and her arousal won out over the truth of his words.
The man with the sparkling eyes hopped off the rock outcrop and landed a few feet from her. “Relax, furball. I believe your lady friend when she says you two didn’t do this. Of course, that doesn’t mean you don’t know who did. In fact, I think you do know. What with you being werecats like the killer.”
“What business is it of yours? Did he kill any of your cattle?” She cringed at her use of the telltale “he”.
His eyebrows jumped up, noting her slip, but he didn’t say anything. Irritated with herself, she scanned his lean body, searching for a weapon, and found none. If he was a rancher, he’d have a weapon, even if only a pistol.
His chuckle was so full of life she could barely resist the urge to laugh along with him. “Nope. But some friends of mine did. They’ve asked me to stop the varmint causing all the problems. So, pretty little pussy, what’s your story?”
She ruffled at the term “pussy” but decided it wasn’t worth commenting on. Besides, she didn’t think he’d meant it in an offensive way. His manner was more easygoing, exuding a live-and-let-live kind of attitude. The way Bryer had been. “Suffice it to say we take care of our own.”
She didn’t need Conner’s low rumble to urge her to stop talking, but this man was so interesting, stopping was difficult. And not at all what she wanted to do. If she could get information from him, then what was the harm? Enjoying the bulge in his jeans was simply an added benefit. She struggled to lift her gaze from his crotch.
With another chuckle, he started circling them in an easy graceful way until he’d put the slight breeze behind him. “Go on. Take another whiff. Enjoy the sweet aroma.”
She inhaled, expecting to find a mix of human pheromones and sweat. Instead, the unexpected scent assaulted her nose. Werewolf. Alex stuck out her hand, keeping Conner, who’d also taken a sniff, from lunging at the shifter. Frowning, she inhaled again. Oh, shit. I’m attracted to a werewolf. “Aroma? I think stink is a better word.”
He pressed a hand over his heart and feigned a hurt expression. “Oh, my lady, you injure me so. You might as well stab me in the heart.”
Alex laughed, finally unable to deny his charm, then suddenly wished he wasn’t a werewolf. For the first time in a long while, she was attracted not only physically, but intellectually, to a man and he turned out to be a werewolf. She sighed and cursed her luck. She’d had sex with werecats and her share of humans, but never a werewolf. Hell, she’d never even considered it. But maybe…
“With pleasure.” Conner hissed and lengthened his fangs.
The werewolf merely cocked an eyebrow and tipped his hat. “Calm down, kitty litter king. No reason to go all adversarial. How about we take a step back and start over? My name’s Dirk. Dirk Claxton of the Cannon Pack.”
“The Cannon Pack, huh?” She’d heard of the werewolves based near Colorado Springs and knew they were considered to be a decent bunch of shifters. Rarely bothering her kind, they stuck to their own business and kept out of everyone else’s. At least until now. “Why are the Cannons helping human ranchers?” She shot a look at Conner, then signaled him to back down. He did so, albeit with a couple of grudging mutters.
“We’re on good terms with the ranchers around here and owe them a favor. I said I’d look into this and get rid of the problem.”
She eyed him as he walked over to examine the body. He knelt down, a gesture signaling that he no longer thought they’d attack him. “You needn’t have bothered. We take care of our own.” Damn, but she liked that cocked eyebrow. She wanted to lick that eyebrow and every other inch of him. Slowly, she ran her tongue along her upper lip. Catching Conner’s frown out of the corner of her eye, she cleared her throat and adopted a stern expression.
“Yep, and it looks like you’re doing a bang-up job of it, too.”
“Alex, let’s leave this flea-ridden mutt here to clean up the mess. We’ve got better things to do than to waste time flapping our yaps at him.” Conner took a step away, then paused, surprised when she didn’t follow him.
&
nbsp; “Alex, huh? So daddy cat wanted a boy?”
His quick perception of her chauvinistic father surprised her, but she kept her face neutral. “My father liked the name Alexandra.”
“Got a last name, Miss Alexandra?”
His gaze glided down her, then headed slowly back up, halting briefly to linger over her chest. Not that she didn’t appreciate a man who found her body appealing. She waited until his eyes met hers before answering. “I’m Alex Grayson and this is my friend, Conner Walkman. We’re part of the Grayson Pride. Ever hear of us?”
“Oh, sure. I know you guys.” His mouth twitched, fighting back another grin. “Didn’t I read something about you in All About Cats magazine? Oh, yeah. You guys invented a new brand of catnip, right?”
Conner’s growl forewarned her, giving her the seconds she needed to block him. She struggled to keep from giggling. “Cute. Very cute. But Conner’s right. We don’t have time to waste playing audience to your standup routine.” She moved away, pausing to let Conner catch up—and to take one last look at the werewolf. Then, setting the pace, she jogged to the edge of the forest surrounding the clearing. She’d gone only a few yards when her hearing picked up the sound of footsteps behind her. The footsteps of two pairs of feet.
Quickly she twirled around, with Conner doing the same a moment later. Dirk slammed to a stop a few yards away. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Enjoying a conversation with a witty werewolf was one thing, but having him follow her?
“With you, of course.” The werewolf strode forward, closing the distance between them.
A skirmish between irritation and a strange delight played out. “No you’re not.” She fingered the small moon-shaped stone she kept in her pocket as she always did when uncertain. Conner had given her the stone years earlier with his name etched on one side and hers on the other.