by Silver James
Sinking to my knees, I buried my fingers in his fur. He licked at my tears and I briefly considered keeping him. Which was stupid. I couldn’t take care of myself. There was no way I could take care of a pet. Except he didn’t look like a stray. Someone in the complex had probably lost him. Two minutes later, someone cleared their throat. I hadn’t closed my door. My mistake.
Twenty-four hours later, I was still attempting to figure out why a couple of very big and very scary bikers had dragged me to this derelict train depot outside of Kansas City. The fence around the place made it look like a prison, except I could see the original building. It had probably been beautiful once. All Art Deco granite and interesting architecture. Which just went to show how brain dead I’d become. I was probably here to die, and all I could think about was how someone should restore the building.
They were Nightriders. Something Smoke had said to me before he left kept playing in my head. “You just signed my death warrant. And yours. I’ll try to protect you before I die.” I’d blown it off as his way of making a dramatic exit. Now, I wasn’t so sure. But why had they waited so long? A month after Smoke’s death, there’d been a big explosion that leveled a compound allegedly belonging to the Nightriders’ archenemies, the Hell Dogs. No bodies were ever found—dead or alive.
Smoke hadn’t betrayed his so-called brothers. That whole deal with the DA had been on me anyway. My guess was they were bringing me here to find their brand of justice. Fine. I was dead inside. If they killed me, it would just mean that my body had finally caught up.
The black Yukon we’d ridden in coming from Dallas paused at the gate. Two guys gave me steely-eyed stares. They could double as executioners for all the emotion they showed. Three men had ridden in the Yukon with me. Two more followed on Harleys. I must be really scary.
The vehicle rolled to a stop near the building’s entrance. The guy who’d appeared at my door and the guy who’s eyes reminded me of that damn dog’s got out. They spoke briefly with the two motorcycle riders. Then my door opened. I was hauled out, the two men climbed in, and the Yukon left.
Scary Man and Blue Eyes deposited me inside a big room—probably what had once been the station’s lobby. Three men stood there waiting. Vaguely aware of probably 30 more people in the room, my attention was caught and held by the man in the middle of the unwelcome committee. He was tall, broad-shouldered and incurably handsome. He also looked like he could snap me in half. He spoke to Scary Guy.
“Are you sure this is the right thing?”
He sounded foreign and I worked to place the accent. They all stared at me as if waiting for me to speak. I kept my mouth shut, studying them. The foreign dude was in charge. I didn’t need the “President” patch on his vest to know. Power rolled off him.
The two men standing at his sides were almost as big. The one with the vice president patch stood at attention, like a soldier. The other was leading-man handsome. What was it about these bikers? Every last one of them was the stuff of romance covers. The sexy beast with the Russian accent gave me the once over. Twice. No one spoke. He approached, stared down, holding my gaze.
“You are Leigh Daniels.”
It wasn’t a question so I didn’t answer. My knees were going rubbery and my insides felt like they were turning to liquid. This was undoubtedly the scariest man I had ever seen in my life. And despite my earlier musings, my sense of self-preservation was kicking in big time. Turns out I wasn’t quite ready to die after all.
“Do you know why you are here?”
I shook my head, not trusting my voice. I wanted to turn mouse and hide, and I was pretty sure anything I said would come out in a squeak.
“Have you seen Smoke’s wolf, Leigh Daniels?” the Russian asked.
“Smoke’s wolf?” Now I found my voice, though I was completely confused. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He snapped his fingers. “Easy.”
Blue Eyes stepped around me and stripped. I watched, mouth hanging open. Then the man disappeared, my embarrassment at his rampant male nakedness replaced by a cringing wonder as bones snapped and muscles twisted. In the man’s place stood…not a dog, as I realized too late. He…it was too wild, too beautiful to be a dog. Black, silver and white with eyes of Siberian husky blue. I’d buried my fingers in this animal’s fur but at the moment, he looked like he would bite first, bark later. This was definitely not a dog. This was a wolf. In all his wild glory.
My knees collapsed and I sat on the floor. The wolf was so big I couldn’t meet him eye-to-eye. He was a head taller as he sat there, panting a little. How had I not noticed that before? And how was this even happening?
“Drugs.” Had to be. They’d roofied me or something. I muttered the word but the men around me laughed and the wolf made a sound too much like laughter for comfort.
“No,” the Russian said. “We did not drug you. But now you know our secret. Smoke’s secret.”
Werewolves? Not possible. They didn’t exist. Not like this. The man with the vice president patch squatted beside me. He was just as hard as the others but there was a tiny flicker of compassion in his eyes.
“We’re Wolves,” he said, as if that explained everything. “We aren’t quite human.” Well d’uh! My expression must have given my thoughts away because he continued. “We are genetically similar but we carry a splice in our DNA, an extra gene that allows us to shift.
“Can you accept Smoke as this?” The Russian’s voice was deep, with a growl overlapping the words.
A tear trickled down my cheek. I didn’t know. This was…too much. Too fantastical. None of it made sense. Why would it matter? Smoke was dead.
“He’s dead,” I murmured, as much to myself as to them.
“No,” the Russian said. “He is not.”
My heart stopped and my head jerked up on its own. I stared at the man, scarcely daring to believe him.
“Alive? Smoke is alive?” I surged to my feet with new-found hope. “But…I was there. I saw.”
“He survived the fire,” the really scary guy who had kidnapped me said. “I brought him here.”
“Without you, he is only half a man. One who lives in shadow,” the Russian continued. “He is not as he was. Are you ready to accept that?”
Since I had no clue what he was talking about, I kept my mouth shut. Was this all some elaborate joke? And what did he mean that Smoke wasn’t as he’d been? I blinked, putting the Russian’s words together. Half a man. Was Smoke caught in some nightmarish half-form like in the movies? Was that what he meant about me being able to accept Smoke as…a wolf? Without you… My mind whirled, sorting memories. Mates. His other half. Smoke’s words came pouring into my heart. He’d thought I was asleep when he said them. Mine, he’d promised. Forever.
“Be sure, Leigh Daniels, or leave.”
My brain went blank. This…it was all too much. I couldn’t process the information. Werewolves. Smoke alive but not. I stared at the wolf still sitting in front of me. Horror welled up until I thought I would vomit from it. I left. Not running. Stumbling.
I got as far as the gate then stopped. I told my foot to step forward but it refused to obey. The gate stood open, the guards invisible. I was steps from freedom, but my body would not move. My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see for the tears streaming from my eyes. Blind and in agony, I sank onto the damp ground, hugging my arms around my chest.
A hand settled with utmost care on my shoulder. Hands lifted me to my feet.
“Go to him.” The Russian, his voice unbearably gentle. “If you leave him, we will lose him to the beast.” Now he sounded unbearably sad. How could a man so hard and ruthless before now be this…caring protector?
These were Nightriders. Outlaw bikers. They were hard, cold. Killers. They didn’t get to care, to be compassionate. Yet I could see it on their faces. Smoke mattered. Smoke—brothers, he’d called them. I saw it now, in their eyes. They mourned him and not because he’d died, but be
cause he was lost to them some other way—a way I didn’t understand.
I bent over from the waist, struggling to breathe. I closed my eyes, opened my heart, my mind. Smoke. He wasn’t far away but he was. I tried to touch him, didn’t realize I was stretching out my hand, that I was walking toward the center of the compound until I blinked. I stopped.
None of the men spoke. Skin was drawn tightly across their faces. I recognized exhaustion in each of them. I still didn’t understand any of this, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except seeing Smoke. Touching him.
They must have seen something on my own face because after a nod from the Russian, the big guy who’d kidnapped me marched me to a second building behind the depot. The others trailed behind us, entering the barracks-style building with us. Down a hallway of identical doors and then we stopped. Without knocking, the man opened a door, shoved me in, and retreated.
A figure stood in the shadows. My heart hammered. I knew this man. I knew his size, his shape, his smell. “Smoke.” I breathed his name then I was in his arms.
I angled my head, found his mouth. He kissed me, our breath mingling like a shimmering bridge between reality and dreams, shadow and light. Was he truly real?
“Yes. Are you?”
We were on the bed, heart-to-heart, mouth-to-mouth, our bodies aligned like Jupiter and Mars. I wanted more than just arousal. I wanted the intimacy of joining with him, the unity of our souls as we came together. I wanted only him. Clothes disappeared and finally, finally, I pulled him into the aching heat of my body. He groaned. I sighed.
Yes, I decided. I was totally ready.
Chapter 21
Leigh
LATER, AFTER MAKING LOVE a second time—and again after that, I lay with my head on his shoulder. The room remained shadowed and I had to use my fingers to see him. I found the ridges, the pebbled skin, the scars left behind from horrific burns.
“Aren’t you going to ask?” His voice rumbled beneath my ear. I shrank away from his question, from my own.
The Russian’s words came back to me: “He is not as he was. Are you ready to accept that?”
Despite what I’d said standing there at the gate, I wasn’t ready. Just like Smoke wasn’t ready to face me in the light. “You’re alive. That’s all that matters.”
“Is it?”
I pushed up, drew my knees in so I was kneeling beside him. He was masked in shadows, all but his eyes. Those were alive, vivid enough to cast their own light.
“Am I a prisoner?” Nothing like going on the offense to change the subject.
“What do you think?”
“I think I was kidnapped by Nightriders, brought here by force, and…” I trailed off.
“Thrown to the monster?”
Smoke always could read my mind. Damn him.
“You’re supposed to be dead. Four months and not a word from you.”
“And you’re supposed to love me.” His voice cracked. “Come hell or high water.”
I dashed tears from my eyes. “No, you don’t get to hold that over me.” Even as I argued, I wondered how he would ever be able to forgive me.
He kissed me, murmured, “I already have.”
The pressure in my chest eased and I inhaled deeply. Though it was morning, he’d refused to open the curtains or turn on a light. My fingertips again traced the damage the fire did to his impossibly beautiful body. “Then let me see.”
Smoke stiffened and he bit back a growl. The hair on my arms prickled as the power of his wolf roiled beneath his skin. In between our love-making, he’d talked about being a Wolf, about the animal who lived in his soul. A light bulb clicked on.
“If you won’t show yourself, show me your wolf.”
Time hung suspended. Neither of us dared breathe. Then he rolled away, stood beside the bed and time snapped back into being. He made no verbal sound as sinews stretched, bones popped, and muscles twisted with a wet sound. Then I was looking at the most beautiful wolf I’d ever seen. He was…magnificent. A silvery-gray with black markings, he watched me through golden brown eyes. Through Smoke’s eyes.
I surrendered to the need to touch him. I slipped off the bed and wrapped my arms around his neck, his fur absorbing my tears. He was a beast, but he was my beast. I loved him.
I love you too, babe.
Smoke
LEANING MY SHOULDERS against the wall, I bit the insides of my cheeks to keep from smirking at her. Leigh was so damn easy to play. She whirled at the end of the hallway and marched back past me, for the twentieth time, repeating her action at the opposite end. This time, when she drew even with me, I snagged her arm and reeled her in, securing her against my chest with both arms around her waist.
“You’re making me dizzy, babe.”
“I want to know what’s going on over there. I mean, seriously? What are they doing? Deciding whether we live or die?”
Chuckling, I wheezed a breath. My lungs still hadn’t healed completely from the fire. “Well, close.”
She thumped my shoulder. I wasn’t quick enough to hide my wince from her. My lungs weren’t the only thing that hadn’t completely healed. Her face morphed into an expression of concern. Her fingers hovered over the spot, tentative.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine, babe. Burns heal slow. Even for us.”
Now she looked dubious. “Yeah…about this whole werewolf thing.”
I curled my lips between my teeth and stared at my boots to keep from laughing. “We’ve discussed this, babe. We don’t say the W word.” She rolled her eyes and I did laugh then. Something opened in my chest. I’d spent most of the past four months as a wolf, curled up in the dark, avoiding my brothers. But this remarkable woman had returned to me, bringing light and laughter back into my life. She’d been here a week and the other mates had taken things into their own hands.
Love you, babe.
She stared at me. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
She blinked rapidly. “No. Not exactly.”
Sure you did.
Her mouth dropped open and I grabbed the opportunity to kiss her. She pushed against me, breaking the kiss. “Your lips didn’t move.” Her eyes were narrowed, her gaze accusatory. “Are you in my head?”
Of course I am. Just like you’re in mine.
Accusation morphed into suspicion. I call bullshit.
“Babe. I’d never bullshit you.”
“Stop that!”
I laughed again and yanked her to my chest, kissing her until she stopped fighting me. The mates picked that moment to burst through the Barracks door. The party was starting.
Smoke
WELL AFTER MIDNIGHT, the party was still going strong. We’d slipped away and now stood next to my bed, side-by-side, arms and bodies stiffly straight. The party in the clubhouse had spilled over to the Barracks as my brothers found their bedmates for the night. I listened to the noise outside my room then turned my head as Leigh turned hers. We grinned. And dove onto the bed.
She laughed as I ripped her T-shirt down the middle, then she groaned as I nipped first one bare breast then the other. Gasping, she let out a shrieking giggle as I kissed my way down to her jeans.
“I hope this isn’t a favorite pair,” I said, claws sprouting and slashing through the denim. I had her naked but for my cut in just over a minute. Before the night was over, I’d have her from behind, still wearing the cut so I could read its PROPERTY OF SMOKE rockers.
“Not fair,” she complained. “You have too many clothes.”
Good thing I could multitask. Except I hesitated as I reached to pull my T-shirt over my head.
“No,” my mate said. “Don’t stop. You are perfect to me.”
After that instant of self-doubt, I stripped and jumped back into things. We had fun, teasing each other. We were silly and foolish. Making love as true mates painted our deep desire with bright splashes of color.
My hands were everywhere. Her greed
y mouth tasted me. Reckless, we rolled and chased each other across the bed. I ate her pussy like a starving man, driving her up and over. She laughed from sheer pleasure, her fingers entwined in my hair, pulling and tugging, as she tried to control me.
This, I thought. This is what mating meant. The unity. The pleasure, the sheer adventure of having this woman in my heart. She amused me. Enchanted me. Owned me. She was the one thing I’d searched for my entire life—my other half.
I slipped up her body, entered her on a gliding thrust. Her eyes, glowing almost as bright as mine must be, stayed on mine. Fuck. I loved this woman—Leigh—with every cell of my body.
She reached up, stroked my cheek. “I see him,” she whispered. “The wolf. And I see you.”
My wolf settled. It’s good to have a mate, he told me.
Leigh’s lips curved as I lost control and spilled inside her. She fell over the edge with me a heartbeat later. My forehead rested on hers and she lay under me, limp and satiated.
“Wow,” she sighed, “That should do it.”
I kissed her and pumped my hips. “Then we’re definitely doing it again.”
“Beast,” she complained, still smiling.
“As long as I’m your beast.”
Forever, she said.
Outside, a bonfire danced in the fire pit as my brothers enjoyed the party, but the flames didn’t draw me. Not any longer. I kissed Leigh, long and deep. She was the fire that lit up my night now.
“Forever,” I promised.
Thank you!
Thank you for reading this book. I hope you enjoyed it. Reviews and word of mouth help other readers find books to read. I appreciate every review, good or bad. Please consider leaving one at the e-tailer where you bought this book or on Goodreads. If this is your first Nightrider book, please check out the other tales in this series and my other series, too. Keep reading for the list of all my books.
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