by Honor James
The Royal Wolves 2
Into the Fire
With age came wisdom for Miklos Farkas, and the desire to make peace rather than constantly battle, and he makes it his life to bring bad guys to justice. Then, in a night filled with flame and heat, he sees her, and like the explosion that flattened him, she certainly gets his attention.
Harker Collins is a firefighter with attitude and gumption. Then she sees him flying out a window just to protect a child, and who wouldn't want that in her bed? But sometimes the best laid plans get sidetracked in the heat of the moment, and hers are no different.
The arsonist brings them together then nearly tears them apart before they can do more than think of what might be. But one determined firebug isn't the only thing working to keep these two apart. Guilt from his past will drive a wedge between them, and if she can't make him see that it wasn't his fault, they'll never have what they both want. Will the fires burn bright or will they be stifled for all time?
Note: This book contains excessive violence against the heroine by the villain.
Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 86,042 words
INTO THE FIRE
The Royal Wolves 2
Honor James
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
INTO THE FIRE
Copyright © 2013 by Honor James
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-856-4
First E-book Publication: July 2013
Cover design by Viola Estrella
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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DEDICATION
I dedicate this novel to my fans, the readers that take the time to read my novels, as well as contact me and let me know what you think. Some of you I can think of off the top of my head and each time I see something from you I just smile. J.B., B.W., L.B., S.S., B.P., and so many more. Thank you so much for being there for me, for giving me a chance and for loving my novels as much as I have loved writing them. You ladies are the best!
INTO THE FIRE
The Royal Wolves 2
HONOR JAMES
Copyright © 2013
Prologue
Fall 1818 - Three weeks after the Royal family’s death
“We have a long way to go still,” he said softly as he held out the cup of water to his oldest brother after taking a quick sip of their precious supply. He knew that they needed to find a stream soon or some other source of clean water or they would be in serious trouble.
“We’ll get there,” Laszlo reassured him as he looked to their two younger brothers. “Are they sleeping?” he asked quietly even as his eyes returned to scanning the surrounding woods where their other brother, the one between Laszlo and Miklos, was roaming looking for berries or, if they were lucky, a hare.
Nodding, Miklos sat down near the small fire looking across toward the youngest of his siblings. “Took them a while, but they finally settled. They see it as a grand adventure I think, and are annoyed to miss out on anything that just might possibly occur.” He wasn’t really that much older than his youngest siblings, but as the middle child he’d already taken a position as mediator, so he was a little more mature in comparison.
“Staring into the dark of night to ensure nothing creeps up on us is not exactly the most exciting of things to be doing,” Laszlo said dryly.
“Yes, but they don’t know that, Laz. They think once they’re asleep that something amazing occurs and vanishes as soon as they open their eyes. Let them stay up one night with you. They’ll drop asleep quick enough out of sheer boredom,” Miklos advised softly.
Looking over at his brother Laszlo nodded slightly. “One night I just might. For now”—he pushed his brother’s shoulder gently—“get some sleep. You need to be up in a couple of hours to relieve Benedek.”
“Night, Laz,” Miklos murmured as he headed to his pallet behind the youngest brothers.
“Night, Mik,” his brother answered softly back in the dark of night.
Chapter 1
The here and now…Miklos
Lifting the cup to his lips he sipped at the coffee in a distracted manner before spitting it back out into the cup and wrinkling his nose. Pushing the cup of too-cold coffee aside he shook his head as he pulled up the latest reports on muggings, home invasions, and various other innocuous reports of everyday violence. He looked at it all with fresh eyes. Since talking to his youngest brother he had the distinct impression that things could go from bad to worse very soon. He also had a feeling that things had already begun to go downhill. Now to just figure out what it might be and, if his hunch was right, who was behind it all.
Over the years he’d catalogued several mentions of Wolf activity. Seemingly random at first, he’d eventually begun to see a pattern developing. They were, from what he’d been able to determine, apparently looking for something, but the what of it had been a mystery. That was until a chance encounter on a bus with a young woman, his younge
st brother’s mate to be exact.
Now though, now Miklos knew. The Wolves had been looking for the last of the Royal lineage all this time. They’d obviously figured out that the five sons that were the direct heirs apparent hadn’t been taken down in the slaughter almost two hundred years previous. Now that the packs knew that he and his brothers lived there would be trouble. They’d call out the pack hunters to track them down and, if possible, find their mates ahead of time and kill them, which, if Wolf lore could be believed, would seriously suck.
According to lore if the mate of a Wolf was killed before they had been marked, then the Wolf would eventually fall into a madness that would tear their mind apart leaving them a blithering, drooling mess. Of course, if a mate was killed after the marking then the Wolf still might end up mad, but in their madness they would be permitted, by their Laws, to exact revenge from the murderer first. But, on the flip side of the coin, if the Wolf was mated, any harm that came to their mate was just bad all around. Whole packs had been wiped out just for trying to intimidate a Wolf’s mate. Wolves were extremely protective of their mates, especially if the Wolf was male. They could be downright vicious and justifiably so.
Shifting, Miklos let his eyes roam over the squad room for a moment before he returned to his reading and note making. If he could determine just which pack was out for their blood he might be able to encourage them to back down. Again, that would all depend on what pack was interested in eviscerating them. There were packs that were loyal and working toward reinstating the Royal line as the rightful leaders of all Wolves. Then there were the packs that didn’t care and were waiting to see who came out on top. After that were the packs that were determined to maintain democracy of a voted-in leadership. And last, but not least by any means, were the packs that wanted any and all Wolves that were behind or supporters of the Royal line taking up the reins again dead. They were known as Blood Packs. They literally were out for blood of any that dared to breathe a word of the Royal heirs or their possible reinstatement to rule.
“Mik,” came a call from across the office. When he lifted his head he saw a senior detective waving the phone and holding up two fingers. Nodding, Miklos picked up line two. “Detective Farkus,” he rumbled into the phone.
“Mik, it’s Twitch,” one of Miklos’s informants said into the phone. “Just saw Johnny D heading into a building with Sparky. They had several cans of gas and were looking more than the normal type of shifty.”
“Where?” Miklos asked, pulling his PDA to him and jotting the address down. “Got it, head home, Twitch, if the info’s good I’ll drop you an envelope tomorrow,” he said in reference to paying his snitch for good tidbits.
“I’d hurry, Mik. I think there’s a group of teens in the place coppin’ a squat,” Twitch said quietly and hung up.
“Shit.” Getting to his feet he slid the PDA into his pocket and then pulled his sidearm from the drawer. Checking the chamber he pushed it into his holster and pocketed his badge as well before scooping everything on his desk into the drawer and locking it. Snagging his jacket he pulled it on before he headed to the night watch commander and let him know where he was heading and why.
Twenty minutes later Mik stepped out of his truck and sniffed the air. Smelling smoke he cursed and hit speed dial on his phone, “This is Miklos Farkus, detective with the Eighth. Badge number 98856,” he said quickly and clearly to the operator. Giving her the address he then said that he had a potential fire starting and also possible squatters on the premises that may or may not be innocents. “Send fire rescue and EMTs to my location,” he ordered and then pulled out the radio in his truck. Radioing in to the night commander he repeated his situation and that he was going to do a quick sweep of the premises to see if he could find either the fire starters or the squatters.
Tossing the radio in before he could be ordered otherwise Miklos took off his jacket and, tossing it on the seat, locked up the truck. “Crispy Wolf is bad, Mik,” he reminded himself softly as he headed in with his weapon in hand and a light in the other to begin his sweep.
Chapter 2
The here and now…Harker
The call came in while she was in the shower. She didn’t even hesitate but jumped out and pulled on the fireproof pants and grabbed a shirt off the rack as she ran for her boots. Never the most comfortable of things to be in fireproof clothes and sopping wet, but hell, there was a fire which meant lives could be in danger and her comfort went out the door.
Hopping into the cab of the unit she pulled her hair back with a head covering more than anything else and put on the headset and mic. “What do we have Bernie?” she yelled over the blare of the sirens.
“Warehouse fire called in by a local cop. According to prelims arson.” Their “prelims” were homeless who lived all over the city who could call a hotline anytime and give any information on a fire anonymously. In return the fire department always left out blankets and food, never asking or demanding more from the people who took them than what they wanted to give. That was a change that Harker herself had made.
“Check, so extra precaution.” She hated going on arson fires because they never knew whether the lunatic who set them had planted bombs and booby traps in the area. “Bring out the camera, Willy,” she shouted to the probie. “You are our camera point person. I want lots of images of the crowd.”
“Why?” He had just joined the Fifty-Nine three days ago and this was the first run he’d been on.
“Because 99.5 percent of arsonists stick around to see their handiwork. Just do what you’re told, probie, and you will live,” Bernie explained.
“But I signed on to fight fire, not take pictures,” he whined.
God save her, she hated a whiner. “Take the pictures, probie, and make them damn good or you will know why the Fifty-Nine is so hard to get into and stay in. We are a family here and Bernie is like the father, so don’t question him.”
The kid had the audacity to look at her and ask, “Are you the mother?”
“Nope, I’m God and don’t forget it,” she told him simply, and when they pulled up to the building she was in her zone, the mode of the firefighter was strong and sure. She watched as the kid was handed the camera and even though he bitched and moaned, he slipped out of the bus and started to do what he was told.
Working alongside her men she didn’t ask for quarter when it was time for anything. She simply did what she had to and to hell with the world. Always in first, she grabbed the lead hose, snapped her visor closed, and primed her O2 tank before running headlong into the furnace of flames.
Chapter 3
The flames burned high and bright, which was a sure sign of accelerant, but she didn’t pause or hesitate as she planted her feet in a small crouch and through the always-open mic on the helmet shouted, “Start it up, boys.” She felt the presence of Bernie at her back and when the hose went from flat and slack to thick and full they leaned into the stream and started trying to combat the destruction.
Dean and Sam came up behind her and took up her space so that she could do as she always did, begin to tear at the walls with the fire ax. She noted briefly Bernie doing the same thing and moved with a purpose through the space.
“Did the cop get out?” she shouted over the intercom remembering that one key fact, that it was a cop, not a prelim, that had called in the fire.
Staying low Miklos narrowed his eyes when he spotted a huddled form and, flicking on his flashlight, he moved closer at an even and steady pace. “NYPD, show me your hands!” he ordered sharply. The tiny figure held out shaky hands right before they…no, she began to cough. Moving in quickly Miklos cursed at finding the small girl, dressed in rags, near passing out from lack of oxygen.
“Wrap your arms around me, sweetheart,” he said softly to her, not wanting to scare her any more than necessary. When she did he adjusted his hold on his gun. “Is there anyone else in here with you, honey?” he asked her as he headed back toward the entrance he’d come through.
When she shook her head he cursed, but what she told him next had chills racing down his spine. “They all left when the bad men came. I had to get Bonnie,” she whispered hoarsely holding up her ratty but obviously well-loved doll.
Shaking his head at the stupidity of human adults and leaving their child behind, he turned sharply and covered her head as a beam fell, the fire burning along it hotly. “Shit,” he whispered softly as he picked her up again and began to run. The place was coming down around their ears and the only way out had just been cut off. He’d have to make a new exit for them both.
Running he went up a floor, the little girl’s coughing growing worse as he ran even harder. Spotting a window he ran for it and pushed her face to his chest telling her to hang on. Putting his back to the glass as he hit it they burst out into the cooler night air, fire quickly following after them with a loud boom as more oxygen hit it encouraging it onward. Twisting in midair he landed on his feet and rolled to lessen the impact, coming to rest on his back with the little girl sitting on his chest with a questioning expression. “Can we do that again?” she asked, giving him a grin that had him bursting out laughing.
The explosion knocked Harker back, the hard landing making every bone in her body ache, but she got back up and radioed for a pull back. The place was a loss. There was no saving it, and when she was told that the building had finally been cleared she tapped Dean on the shoulder and with the wave of a hand got him and Sam started out.