Arick schooled his features, making sure nothing but disdain at the acts the other male referenced showed on his face. Of course the pack had heard of the notes left for the alpha and the other little signs that a terrorist with a thirst for power was among them. Arick had made sure of it, and his plan was proceeding perfectly. Soon the pack rage against the KinKaids would reach a fever pitch, and his brother would fall from power without a sliver of suspicion ever pointing in Arick’s direction. Everything he’d been waiting for would soon be his—the alpha’s seat and Landry Michaels back in his bed.
“Yes, I’m aware the word has gotten out. As lead enforcer for our pack, I take any threat very seriously. But especially those aimed at Stefan. The alpha’s security is my top priority.” Arick rounded his desk and eased onto the thick leather cushion of his executive chair. He glanced up and met the dark blue gaze of the shifter on the other side of the furniture. “Stefan is not only our leader but my blood. And no one gets away with threatening family.” Except for me, of course. But Carl didn’t need to know that little detail.
“No doubt, enforcer.” Carl squared his shoulders.
“You filled Stefan in on the details of your search and of your encounter with Evin. Now, I want you to think very hard about every shifter you interacted with while you were there. Was there anything you found out of the ordinary?”
Carl’s brow creased as if he were deep in thought, and he swiped a wide palm over his day’s growth of beard. “Well, now that you mention it, there was this female who showed up outside of the alpha’s house when we were being hauled out of there by KinKaid’s enforcers.”
“A female?” Arick settled his shoulders on the chair’s backrest, the leather squeaking under the shift in weight.
“Yes, sir, Evin’s sister. I overheard them call her Rosa. So I know it was her.”
“Really? Interesting.” What the hell had she been doing out there?
“I’d heard the alpha had a twin sister,” Carl went on to say. “But she doesn’t look anything like that ugly bastard. She’s quite beautiful.” He grinned. “Blonde. Petite. Like an angel under the moonlight.”
“Yeah, yeah. She’s pretty,” Arick snapped and surged forward, elbows going to his desk. “I get it. Now go on with the rest.” The male was testing his patience.
Carl cleared his throat. “Well, apparently she thought one of the shifters with the Halo around me and my brother’s neck was hot too, judging by the whiff of arousal that burned up my nostrils when I got near her. They were real protective of her too, and I don’t think it was just because she’s the alpha’s sister. From the way they both watched her, I’d say there was more going on than an enforcer doing his job.”
“I see,” Arick drawled, his pulse tapping out a ragged beat.
It couldn’t be...him.
Not the male he’d hooked up with a few months ago in the fetish club. What had started out as a few anonymous fucks—at least that was what Landry assumed—to gather intelligence from the KinKaid’s alpha’s top enforcer had turned into a savage thirst Arick had yet to quench. Bottoming wasn’t something Arick often submitted to for any male. But with Landry... The shifter had struck a nerve, stimulated an itch only he could scratch. Arick had lost his mind under the dominant male, and in the aftermath, he’d slipped, asking Michaels one too many questions.
Landry hadn’t been stupid, though. Arick had tripped the other shifter’s alarm, sending his lover on a seek and find mission for Arick’s true identity. And for Landry, the resulting revelation had morphed their mutual pleasure sessions into something that should have never happened. Not when both males were the lead enforcer for rival packs.
“Besides Rosa’s name, did you happen to pick up on any of the others?” Arick curled one of the ink pens inside his palm, waiting.
“Yes, sir. I sure did.” Carl plastered on a proud smile. “Rosa called the shifter who had me in his loop, Landry.”
A tremor raced down Arick’s spine. Dammit! Had Landry been salivating over that KinKaid bitch?
“She was pissed,” Carl continued, oblivious to the fact Arick was a grenade whose pin had just been pulled. “When the enforcer guided me past her, I sort of offered to help take care of her—if you know what I mean?” The tall male chuckled. “The enforcer snapped, hit me, then scolded her for not being properly dressed. Man...” He shook his head. “She didn’t like that in the least bit.”
“Why was she there?” Arick tapped out a melody on his desk with the ballpoint. “Did she say?”
“Only that she was worried about her brother.”
“Well...she should be.” Arick tossed the pen onto the surface and stood.” He’s screwing with the wrong pack.”
“Damn straight,” Carl stated with a flash of fang.
Arick rounded his desk, tugging on the sleeves of his black and gold-trimmed jacket. “That’ll be all for now. Rest assured, I’ll notify you soon with our next step.”
“I would appreciate that.” Carl turned for the exit.
“I’m sure you’d like to join us for the retrieval of your brother.” Arick brushed past the other male and reached for the doorknob. “Am I right?”
“That I would,” the shifter growled.
Arick held the door open for the other male to pass through. “Then we’ll make that happen. You have my word,” Arick stated, his voice gruff.
Carl nodded, his mouth drawn into a thin line, then strode out into the corridor.
What the fuck? Arick braced his palms on the closed wood. This was not the news he’d expected to hear. Could Michaels be interested in that female? Hell no! The shifter was going to be his. Together, they would be an unstoppable force, sitting at the top of the Gregorson pack.
But now... Landry could not be fawning over some weak KinKaid whore. This could never be allowed to happen. It would ruin everything.
Behind Arick, another door snicked shut. “Interesting development, Landry’s interest in the alpha’s twin,” a male voice stated, confidence ringing in the tone.
“I don’t know how you can say that,” Arick growled and spun. “This complicates my plan.”
“Oh, to the contrary. I think this couldn’t have played into your hand any better.” The tall, dark-haired male, salt and pepper sprinkled at his temples, eased onto the leather seat in front of Arick’s desk. He crossed his legs, not a wrinkle visible in his well-tailored slacks, and slung an arm over the back of the chair’s twin at his right.
“Please, enlighten me on how you see this helping my cause.” Arick plopped back into place behind the width of his desk.
“Simple.” The elder male sneered, yet the scorn failed to reach his eyes. His dark irises remained flat, void of emotion.
And Arick thought himself a cold-ass bastard...
He’d have to keep a close watch on this shifter. With his tongue, the other male had vowed his only incentive behind their collaboration was a share of the power and status, once Arick finally took control of the pack. But behind the cold, hard stare, Lucas Allister clearly harbored some sort of an agenda other than Arick’s. That was obvious. Why else would the guy risk so much for the promise of an elevated position in the pack? Lucas surely knew Arick had no intention of sharing the power.
But the elder shifter was clever, and Arick needed the male and his mind for political strategy. Partnering with Allister would be worth the risk in the end when Arick achieved his goals. He didn’t give a fuck what Lucas was after as long as he stayed out of Arick’s way.
And if Lucas failed to do so...? There were deadly consequences for standing between Arick and what he wanted.
“You’ve successfully planted all your seeds deep,” the senior male began. “Your brother has no doubts the KinKaid alpha wants him dead—wants his pack. The KinKaids believe our alpha has targeted them. Both sides are primed for war.”
“Tell me something I don’t know, Lucas.” The male was indeed smart when it came to political tactics, but at times, he tried Ari
ck’s patience.
The large male sighed. “Where is your appreciation for the excitement of a well-delivered plot, Gregorson?”
“I’m fresh out,” Arick deadpanned.
“Fine.” Lucas lowered his leg and leaned forward. “You have an open invitation to walk right onto the KinKaid lands.”
“Go on.” Arick pressed his shoulders into his chair’s backrest.
“What better way to incite a war than to take something their alpha, and apparently their lead enforcer as well, covets. Both males, I’m most certain, would...” Lucas eased back, his empty, obsidian stare unwavering from Arick’s, “kill for her.”
Arick’s pulse stuttered, then raced, making him lightheaded. Holy fuck. “Rosa KinKaid.” Seated, Arick lunged forward, bringing them closer. “You’re suggesting we take the alpha’s twin,” he stated, his voice hushed as if the walls might share their secret.
“You tell me you want a war. You want your brother dead. And you want Landry for yourself.”
“Yes!” Arick spat. “All of it!”
Lucas slid to the edge of his seat, the sharp points of his canines glinting beneath his upper lip. “Then you take Rosa KinKaid, and you’ll have everything you ever wanted.”
Chapter Four
Rosa twisted the knobs on her shower, shutting off the spray. After tugging the curtain aside, she stepped out onto her bathmat. With a towel plucked from the rack, she massaged her damp hair, then moved to her back and shoulders. Rolling her head, she kneaded her fingers through the plush cotton into her flesh. The hot water had felt great on her neck.
Standing in front of the bathroom counter, she turned and lifted her locks. Between her shoulder blades and above, her skin tingled like the marching of ants heading north. She swiveled her head and glanced into the mirror. Her breath hitched. The dark line, the thermometer that gauged the progression of heat, began as a smudge in the middle of her back and darkened as it rose. It had now crossed the threshold of her neck. Rosa reached around, smoothing the pad of her finger over the brown line as if she could wipe the evidence away. Once it reached her hairline, she would be in full heat. From what she’d heard, her body and mind would be wracked with the need for any man willing to ease her flesh from the insane craving for sex—to mate—and form an inseparable bond.
And to breed.
She groaned. God help me. Rosa spun and gripped the edge of her sink, her knuckles blanching. Lifting her head, she reached for her toothbrush. A wave of dizziness swamped her, and her vision clouded. She grasped the counter for balance and steadied her feet. Oh, God. Her stomach soured in apprehension.
“Rosa!” The sound of her brother’s cry filled her head, weakening her knees. Her rear slammed onto the tile floor, rattling her teeth. Then her sight was Evin’s.
Yet, he was no longer in human form. His perception was too sharp, the level of focus too low to the ground. He ran through the trees, claws digging into the mulch beneath his pads. Howls rent the night air around him. His heart raced, fueled by rage and adrenalin. The duel effect popped beads of sweat like rain over Rosa’s flesh, and she shivered. Evin stopped before several males dressed in black. Loud snaps rang out and a section of fence behind them tumbled inward.
Evin reared his head back, and a howl ricocheted inside her skull, chilling her blood. Her brother charged, leaping over the fallen cyclone...and was gone. Like a puff of smoke dispersed by a breeze, the vision faded away with him.
Hot tears crested and trailed down her cheeks. Rosa pushed up from the hard surface. Damn, damn, damn. Evin had called her name, which meant the prophecy had been about her. Something had gone terribly wrong, and Evin was prepared to kill or destroy whatever or whoever was involved.
The location in her vision—the fence—it had to be the Gregorson border. What the hell had they done? And what did it have to with her?
She reached down and snagged her towel from the tile, her hand trembling. Quickly, she wrapped it around her, sniffed, and snatched her toothbrush from its holder. On autopilot, Rosa finished her morning routine. She would give anything to know how far in the future the events would occur. That was the suckiest part of her gift. What visions did invade her brain could be happening now or months in the future. And sometimes there were no images at all, only feelings—a sense of wrongness.
Not that knowing when and where would do a damn bit of good. What was to come would come. At least that was how it had always been in the past no matter how hard she’d tried to change the future. Her mind rolled back to the precious little black puppy she’d found wandering the grounds behind her family home when she was twelve. White spots had dotted each of his floppy ears. He’d felt so soft and warm curled up in her arms beneath her covers. She couldn’t keep the corners of her mouth from lifting at the memory. Then the distant sound of brake’s squealing punched through from the recesses of her mind and battered away her smile.
Rosa had tried to stop it. She’d seen his lifeless body more than once in her dreams, and because of those night terrors, every day when she’d left for school, Rosa had secured Pebbles in a small kennel. He was safe. Protected from the wheels of any vehicle. She’d been certain there was no way her nightmare would come true.
But one afternoon she’d been late arriving home from class. Rosa had run to her family’s house, a sense of dread swelling behind her breastbone only to find it was too late. Her mother, concerned for Pebbles, had released him from his cage to relieve himself. Excited, Pebbles had run away and directly into the path of a truck.
Even now, grief welled, a hard knot in the back of her throat, and Rosa’s chin shook under its demand for release. No! She spun and cried out into the emptiness of her bedroom, helpless rage forcing sadness to retreat. A walk down memory lane wasn’t going to do her any good. Action. That was her only hope. No matter what the past had taught her, she had to do something—anything other than sitting back and allowing some imminent horror overtake her. An impotent damsel in distress was a title she would never wear.
***
Kaleb cupped his hands under the running water and splashed his face once more with the frigid liquid. “Shit!” he hissed. Even at the end of summer, the water in the Pacific Northwest never lost its chilly edge. He shoved his hair back and stared at the dark shadow of whiskers along his jaw. Yeah. He really should shave, but his head throbbed, the nasty aftereffect of tossing one too many back the night before. “The hell with it.” Kaleb grabbed the hand towel from the ring by the sink, flipped the light switch off, and shuffled toward his room.
After pulling on a pair of low-riding sweats, socks, and a T-shirt, Kaleb headed to his closet for a pair of sneakers. He yanked on the handle but noticed his boots were blocking the doorway. When had he left those there? Kaleb palmed the black pair when the image of Landry’s face flashed before his mind’s eye. Not just the kind of mental snapshot of his mug beside him at a bar or next to him in Kaleb’s car, but an up close and personal sort of visual as if they were about to...
He dropped his boots, the thick soles resonating a solid thud against the wood—the sound matching the one inside his head with every beat of his heart.
It was all coming back to him. Not in a flood of details, but flashes of the night before were emerging at full speed.
Landry had followed Kaleb inside. He’d been drunk on his ass, and his partner had made sure he’d gotten in the house...and into bed. Kaleb sank onto the edge of the mattress and groaned. He’d been in his underwear when he’d woke this morning, and there was no way Kaleb had managed that alone.
Closing his eyes, Kaleb searched his memory, his pulse roaring in his ears. How had he reacted when Landry had taken his clothes off? When the other male had touched his chest, his fly? More precisely, how had his dick responded? His cock stirred at the thought, flexing behind his briefs.
Shit. If a daydream about what could have been had his shaft half-hard, there was no telling how much of a fool he might have made of himself last night. Then onc
e more, the mental image of Landry’s face loomed inside his head. Kaleb had grabbed onto the shifter, holding the other male over him, their gazes locked. Kaleb had wanted to desperately tell him something...
“I love you, man,” he repeated the words echoing against the walls of his skull. His eyelids popped open. “Fuck!” He’d told Landry he loved him, but then... Yes! Thank God. He was pretty sure he’d passed out afterward.
Kaleb lunged to his feet. If he hadn’t though, would he have kissed Landry? His gut tightened at the prospect. Absently, his fingers went to his lips, and he could almost feel the other male’s against his. Landry’s mouth was so damn perfect—full, with a deep vee carved in the center of the top lip. What would that have been like, stealing one forbidden kiss?
Soft and easy?
Hard and desperate?
A ragged exhale escaped his lungs. They’d been so close. Kaleb could almost swear he still smelled the lingering barley and hops on his partner’s breath. A ding-dong rang out, yanking him back to the present. The front door.
Kaleb shook his head, shoving all the images and thoughts back into the recesses of his mind where they belonged. Landry was his partner—his best friend. He could never cross that line and risk ruining everything between them. They’d been through so much together. Kaleb couldn’t remember a time when Landry hadn’t been there for him.
He sighed.
Over the years, Landry had never made it a secret that he was bisexual, but they’d never crossed that line with each other. Kaleb had never given Landry any indication he’d wanted to be anything more than his friend.
Hell, Kaleb wasn’t gay. He’d never had any interest in other men. It was only Landry who had him questioning who and what he wanted in his bed for the past few years. So what did that make him? He wasn’t quite gay, but there was a part of him that wasn’t completely straight either.
Christ. That was fucked up.
He was completely sure, though, that his family would go ballistic if their only son decided to hook-up, or heaven forbid, mate another male.
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