Devil's Property [Devil Hills Wolves 3] (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by Fel Fern

  “Isn’t that obvious?” the vampire replied drily. “That’s what I’ve been trying to convince this stubborn-headed wolf of yours.”

  “Then you understand why we can’t allow you inside the house, not yet. Like Santino, I do not trust you, not around the woman I consider my sister as well as one of my trusted enforcers,” Deacon finally said. “Ask again some other night, vampire, but not this one.”

  Madeline inclined her head to Deacon, then blew a kiss to Santino before vanishing. The muscles in Santino’s body relaxed once he was certain she was truly gone. Then he whirled to his Alpha.

  “Were you fucking serious? You’d let that thing inside our home?” he said with a snarl.

  “I’m not in the mood for a fight, Santino,” Deacon answered, looking tired. Santino knew Deacon well enough not to push, but fuck. He wanted to let out his rage. “We have a guest.”

  Deacon’s words made him breathe in and out. He could see Zack through the windows. Locking gazes with Zack, the bobcat shifter turned red and ducked into the kitchen. How much of that conversation had Zack heard?

  “Look. It’s been a long day,” he finally said. “I’m sure Zack’s exhausted from traveling, too. Maybe it’s better if he does this in the daylight, after a full night’s sleep.”

  Deacon looked surprised. “Very well. Let’s let him see her, then see what he says, but any actual healing we’ll reserve for another day. You’re right. I’m sure he’s drained. Let’s wait until he’s at full strength.”

  “Deacon?” he called as they entered the house.

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m still not letting that vampire anywhere near my sister.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Wolf cookie,” Sylvia told Zack, pointing to a lumpy-looking cookie on the tray. The five-year-old girl with the wild hair flashed him a toothy grin. “Sylvia make bobcat cookie for Zack next time.”

  He blinked, unable to hide his surprise. They both sat on the stools of the kitchen counter, and since the girl looked sad from being told to go back inside the house, he tried his best to make her smile. Zack still couldn’t believe this little pretty bundle of joy was related to Santino.

  “How did you know I’m a bobcat shifter?” he asked her.

  “Is that strange?” Daryl asked. The Esper slid two hot mugs of coffee on the table. He reached out for it. Zack had taken an instant liking to the spunky but kind empath. It took a certain kind of guts to be mated to a man like Deacon Becker.

  “Other shifters usually have a hard time identifying bobcat shifters. They can only tell that we’re part of the feline species, because there’s so few of us,” he explained.

  “Sylvia’s like her mom. She’s always been able to sense what kind of species an individual belongs to, human, Esper, shifter, or other paranormals,” Daryl explained.

  “That’s a pretty rare Esper ability. She’s half Esper?” he asked, curious.

  Daryl regarded him for a few moments, and he had a feeling the empath was doing his own assessment of him. Empaths read emotion, he remembered that, but according to rumor, Daryl was a powerful kind of empath who had other abilities, as well. That didn’t surprise him, given Daryl Rush was mated to the Alpha of the Devil Hills wolf pack.

  Daryl must have decided it was safe to tell him, because he responded, “She’s quarter Esper, actually.”

  “Quarter?” He blinked, remembering the telekinetic who saved them earlier. When he asked Lance which Esper to thank for his help, the Beta had calmed up. He understood why now. Children born out of shifter and Esper parents were rare, and those who acquired both their parents’ abilities were even unheard of. “Wait. Santino’s half-Esper?”

  “Gotten curious about me, little cat?”

  Zack jerked his head at Santino’s deep voice. Shit. Santino was definitely a sin to look at, and Zack swore some of his brain cells died, seeing the werewolf enforcer without a shirt on. Zack wanted to do a number of things at once, to run his hands across all that muscled caramel skin, stroke that thick silken mess of dark chocolate brown hair, and have those amused silver eyes solely on him.

  “Can you, like, put a shirt on?” he finally asked.

  Daryl politely coughed and went by Sylvia’s side. “Isn’t it time for your nap, sweetheart?” Daryl asked Sylvia.

  Zack glanced at the werewolf pup, glad for the distraction. Sylvia glanced from him to Santino, then back to Zack again.

  “Mister Bobcat likes Uncle ‘Tino?” she asked innocently.

  Zack choked. God. She called him Uncle ‘Tino? That was too adorable for words.

  “Uncle ‘Tino likes Mister Bobcat,” Santino told her, those words making his heart beat erratically. “Now go to bed, squirt. Daryl will read you a princess story.”

  She turned her nose at that. “Sylvia wants the princess to slay the dragon, not the prince.”

  Daryl flashed him an apologetic look before finally getting the little girl out of the kitchen.

  “I’ll come with you,” Deacon said.

  Once all three footsteps headed up the stairs, Zack was left alone with the smoking hot werewolf who looked at him like he was good to eat.

  “So, um,” he began, trying to make conversation.

  Zack wanted to ask so many things, like what did Santino mean by those words to his niece? Was Santino really into him? Zack could definitely feel the magnetism between them and had trouble staying away, but why would a guy like Santino want him?

  There was only one reason why other shifter males wanted him, because of his abilities. They never truly saw him, except he couldn’t explain it fully, but it seemed Santino was able to see past the surface and really looked at him.

  “Who was that vampire?” he finally managed to ask.

  Thank God. Zack should really stop looking at Santino, but God. Why was the man so beautiful? Zack saw some of the family photos in the living room and guessed the white-gold haired woman with the same silver-eyes was Sabine. Clearly, good looks ran in that particular family.

  If Zack was an Omega capable of getting pregnant, they’d definitely have very cute children. They could still get a surrogate and—fuck. What the hell was he thinking?

  “Madeline was just an annoying trespasser,” Santino said, crossing his arm. The gesture only drew Zack’s attention to those impressive biceps and triceps.

  Damn it, Zack. Focus.

  “Is that all there is to it?”

  “That blood sucker and my sister went out a few times. That’s all.”

  “That’s all? Emotional connections are important, you know?”

  Santino frowned at him. “I just want you to take a look at Sabine, but any actual healing we’ll put off until tomorrow.”

  “Really?” he blurted. Shit. Had he sounded too eager? That meant he had the entire night to think about how he could go about telling Santino the truth and his resolve to try his best.

  “You must be tired, especially holding your group together. This way,” Santino led the way out of the kitchen and up the stairs. More framed photographs hung on the way. Santino must have noticed him looking at them, because he said, “My sister loves hanging new photos, because they remind her of family and pack, reasons to continue living.”

  His heart felt heavy at those words. Zack thought he could fake it, but seeing Santino here, inside his house and interacting with his niece and Deacon, who was more like a brother to him, Zack felt more of a damn fraud. They passed what must be Sylvia’s room, because Sylvia erupted into giggles and Daryl made a roaring noise, probably an imitation of a dragon.

  Santino reached the room at the end of the hall and opened the door. The werewolf flicked the light on, and he studied the young woman lying on the bed.

  “Light and dark,” he found himself murmuring, referring to Sabine’s light blond hair and Santino’s dark hair. Zack stood by her bedside, began reaching for her skull to check the wound, then hesitated. He looked at Santino first.

  “Go ahead,” Santino said.
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  The enforcer sounded hopeful. He swallowed and gently pushed aside her hair to see the scar there.

  “This was healed cleanly,” he said with approval, placing his hand over the wound. He felt nothing, knew nothing about what he was doing. Shit. His abilities worked naturally and by touch. Once Zack laid his hands on an injured patient, their wounds began to close, the speed depending on the amount of damage. Feeling like a fake, he drew his hand back.

  “Elaine’s good at what she does, even though she can be a pain in the ass sometimes,” Santino grumbled.

  “Have you tried bringing in Espers with healing abilities? I’m only asking because you two are half Espers, and they might be able to help, too.”

  “Yes. Ben’s a longtime member of our community. He couldn’t help, but he was the one who heard the case of a shifter healer working together with an empath to heal mental wounds, even one who managed to wake up his Alpha from a coma,” Santino explained. “Deacon said you did something similar.”

  “By accident. A roaming group of Espers stopped by Silver Thunder, looking for a place to stay the night. The empath in their group asked for a healer, so I did as he asked to help heal a child who’d been in a coma for three days.”

  God, every word that came out of his mouth was a lie. Zack had rehearsed that story numerous times in his head. He overheard that tale from a passing group of Espers about a situation in another community.

  “Let’s try it tomorrow. I’m sorry, but you’re right. I am a little tired,” he finally said. “Will Daryl be fine with that?”

  “He will. Of course. I’ll escort you back to the inn.”

  He bit his lip. “Are you sure? What about Sylvia?”

  “Daryl will be here even if Deacon gets called,” Santino explained.

  “O-okay then.”

  Santino tilted his head for a moment, then told him. “Let’s go.”

  “You don’t need to tell the Alpha?”

  “Already did,” Santino exited the room.

  He stared at the werewolf, stumped. Did Santino have a mind-to-mind link with Deacon? Was that why Santino and his sister were always by the Alpha’s side? Werewolves with Esper abilities made for a deadly and terrifying combination. Deacon’s wolf, too, seemed monstrously powerful to begin with. He’d only seen a glimpse, but he could tell Deacon was a hell of a good commander, and combined with Santino and Sabine’s strength, no wonder few groups, both humans and paranormals, dared crossed this community.

  Why was Santino telling him this kind of secret, though?

  He gave Sabine one last look. I hope I can help you. Then he hurried after Santino. They exited the house. Out on the porch, he could see Santino watching the woods intently.

  “You look preoccupied,” Santino finally said, regarding him.

  Zack bit his lip and asked, “Why are you telling me your secrets?”

  “Are you saying I shouldn’t trust you?” Santino asked in a deadly quiet voice that scared him.

  Playing with this wolf is dangerous, his inner bobcat told him, but the animal wanted to dance with this predator anyway.

  “No, but you shouldn’t be spilling secrets to strangers.”

  “I usually don’t, but something about you draws me.” Santino reached for the button of his pants. “Besides, my wolf deems you safe. I’ve always trusted his instincts.”

  “W-what are you doing?” he blurted.

  “It’s a nice night, and we’ll get back to town faster in animal form,” Santino told him. “You can leave your kit and clothes here.”

  Zack’s cat rose up eagerly inside him and stretched. He suppressed a purr. Zack did want to shift, to let his animal run wild, escape all his lies and spend more time with Santino, even for a little while.

  “Santino, have you ever seen a bobcat?” he asked.

  “Pictures. Lynx-family, right?”

  Surprised, he nodded. “Okay, yes. I’m impressed. But I’m kind of small, like a lot smaller than your wolf. I might slow you down, and I like running up in the trees. Is that okay?”

  “Do whatever you want, little cat.” Santino then dropped his jeans.

  Shit. Zack did his best not to stare, but damn it. This man was a fine work of art, and he was impressive down there, too. Trying not to think about Santino’s body so much, he quickly stripped out of his clothes. Once naked, he reached for his inner animal. Fur covered him. He shrunk in size.

  Bones and organs rearranged themselves. He hit the ground, only to see Santino’s monster wolf waiting for him. For the first time in a long time, excitement swept over him. Zack wanted to play. He ran past Santino, who tried to swipe at him, but he dodged the wolf and climbed the nearest tree. His wolf snarled. Good. It looked like Santino was in the mood to play, too.

  Chapter Eight

  Santino had run numerous times with his packmates, with his family and his team, but never had he felt this carefree. This was fun, he decided, catching a glimpse of Zack’s distinctive spotted fur and black-tipped ears in the pine trees above. As if Zack knew he was watching, the bobcat shifter halted, stuck out a tongue at him. Zack’s yellow eyes seemed to dance with challenge.

  Who knew the tough little healer also had some mischief inside him?

  Fuck, but Santino was pretty sure he couldn’t take his attention off Zack now.

  Then the bobcat shifter leapt toward another branch. Adrenaline spiked through Santino’s system. He ran faster. Zack let out a cute little hiss above him. The full moon shone above them, illuminating the path ahead. Santino could have run a little longer, but they’d soon reach town, and Zack needed rest.

  Zack jumped from the trees and tackled him from the side. Well, Zack tried, too. The bobcat shifter let out a mewl of protest as he collided against fur and muscle. Santino slowed as Zack rolled on the forest ground and got back to his paws.

  Amused, Santino trotted to him. Zack made protesting hisses as Santino picked the smaller shifter through the scruff of the neck, the way Sabine carried her errant daughter. Since Sylvia and Zack were about the same size, he had a feeling his niece would definitely have a ball of a time playing catch with Zack.

  Zack pawed at him as Santino carried him out of the woods and set foot into town. The bobcat shifter made sure to keep his claws sheathed, though. Not wanting to surprise the other townsfolk, although they were pretty much used to werewolves and other shifters in animal form, Santino stayed to the smaller roads.

  He reached the Honey Bee, the inn where the community let folks taking refugee stay. A hawk shifter cawed at him in greeting from one of the nearby buildings. With Zack still tucked carefully in his mouth, he gently placed Zack down and gave the hawk shifter a greeting. Was it his imagination, or did the shifter have an amused look in his eyes?

  No matter, he pawed at Zack, who licked at his left paw and flashed him a disdainful look that only cats seemed to possess. Was Zack annoyed Santino carried him the rest of the way? Too bad.

  During their little game, hunger not of the physical kind coursed through his body. Both man and wolf wanted the same thing. Zack stopped to stare at him. The kitchen door opened, and Agnes, the elderly Esper who owned the Honey Bee, put her hands on her hips to look at Zack, then Santino.

  “You two might as well come in,” she said with an irritable sigh, then wagged a finger at Santino. “I’m watching you, young wolf. No stealing my pies again.”

  Santino wished he had his sister’s gift to camouflage with her surroundings. Why did the old woman have to bring that up now? He hadn’t stolen pies from her kitchen since he was twelve, for crying out loud. Then again, like uncle, like niece, Sylvia seemed to have the same idea he did.

  Santino seldom opened his heart to anyone. Sure, like any pack enforcer, he wouldn’t hesitate to help out a packmate in need, but the only people he let in were Deacon, his sister, his niece, and he did have a soft spot for Agnes. The old woman had been the first to recognize his abilities when he was growing up, when he kept knocking objects in the ai
r out of anger. She’d also been the one who taught him to control and wield his telekinesis, transform it from a curse to a useful weapon.

  He gently ushered Zack inside the kitchen with his muzzle.

  The smell of beef pie hit his nose. His stomach grumbled, but he managed to exit the kitchen without nicking any food. Zack knew his way from the sitting room and up the stairs to the second-floor.

  One of Zack’s raven shifter friends, Adam, he remembered, was on one of the couches and had stared at them open-mouthed. Santino let out a soft snarl, warning the avian shifter to mind his own business. Thankfully, Adam pretended to be interested in his magazine again. Adam had been protective of Zack, too, he remembered. A good man.

  Zack shifted back to human form and plucked the room key from under the welcome mat in front of the door. Then Zack opened the door, letting him in first, a shy smile on his mouth. An invitation. He caught a whiff of Zack’s arousal and entered the room. While Zack fumbled for a switch, he turned back to human form.

  “That run was amazing. I can’t remember the last time I—” Zack faltered, seeing him.

  Santino was amused he could render his little cat speechless so easily.

  “You can’t remember?” he prodded.

  “I had so much fun. I’m usually busy and needed not just by my bobcat clan, but also the other shifter groups,” Zack said those words softly, voice trembling at the last sentence. The bobcat shifter fisted his hands by his side. “Oh God, Santino. I’ve tried so hard to be strong, told myself not to grieve yet, because the others needed me.”

  Santino walked up to Zack and pulled him into a fierce hug. He, too, understood loss each time the pack lost a member. He’d been there when Deacon had taken the reins of pack Alpha at twelve. He and his sister had stood beside the Alpha at a time the newly formed Devil Hills wolf pack had been weak. They lost plenty of werewolves in those early years, struggled to hold onto their territory.

  The bobcat shifter didn’t resist him, merely leaned against him, and the shock of Zack’s slender and soft skin against his rippled through him. How they fit so perfectly, Santino didn’t know. He never let a lover hold him this way, because all the men he’d bedded had always been afraid of him.