Which was good, because he had no intention of dying. His job was to find the bitch who’d killed his father. He’d been living and working out west when he’d gotten the news. His father, who’d been running the east coast hunters for the past five years, had been murdered by the female werebitch he’d kept as a pet. Steve hadn’t seen the female in years, but he’d find her and kill her if it was the last thing he did. So he’d come back east to take over his father’s position and look for his prey.
Steve had been raised to enter the family business—bounty hunting. And not just any kind of bounty hunting. No, his family were legendary werewolf hunters.
Most of the human population had no idea that paranormal creatures wandered among them. Steve had no pity for them. Cattle, all of them. Living according to the laws of some government that had long outlived its usefulness. No, he and his comrades believed in the freedom to live as they wanted, and that meant killing werewolves.
He’d grown up in the wilds of Washington State where his father had been stationed at the time. His father had taught him to hunt and fish. How to survive and how to hunt and kill werewolves. He’d also taught him to value his friends, but to watch his back.
He didn’t know the fourth man at their table at all. “Who are you?”
“Quinn.” The big, light-haired man leaned back in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Cocky sonofabitch. Steve respected that.
“Quinn came highly recommended from the Southeast faction,” Jones added.
Bounty hunters were an independent lot, but they maintained loose communications. All the better to capture their prey. He’d check on Quinn himself. He didn’t trust anyone, especially not a fucking new guy.
“Why am I here?” He wanted this meeting over. He was in the mood to get laid and he planned to let the waitress fill his needs, generous soul that he was. He looked over at her, already feeling her large tits cradling his cock as he fucked her mouth. It was a great way to get off, keep a woman quiet and not have to worry about wearing a rubber.
“I caught a glimpse of a guy watching Riley’s Garage. He moved like one of them.”
His gaze jerked back to Warren. No need to ask who he meant by one of them. “Who?”
“Don’t know, but he definitely might be a werewolf.”
“Go back and keep a watch.” There had been a lot of buzz around that garage about a month ago. Rumors of infighting among wolves and the death of several hunters had been big news. Those bastards were short of women, so some group would take in his father’s murderer. It was a place to start.
He stood. “We’re done. Keep me informed.” Sauntering over to the counter, he smiled at the waitress.
Chapter Three
Meredith stared at the six pairs of eyes staring at her, watching her with varying degrees of anger, distress and fear.
“We shouldn’t have let him go.” That was about the tenth time Hank had made that proclamation since Isaiah had left and it was beginning to wear on her.
“I agree with Hank,” Michael added.
“What should we have done? Kill him?” She threw up her hands in frustration. “That would make us no better than the hunters.” They walked a fine line between protecting themselves and turning into the things they most dreaded—cold-blooded killers.
They’d killed before. All of them, with the exception of Neema, had been forced to take another life in order to protect themselves. Hunters had come before and would again. There had been two other werewolves in the early years who’d wanted to destroy Neema and Kevin. Thankfully, she’d found the half-breed children first and with her sons’ help had been able to protect them.
“It’s not like that, Mom,” Benjamin soothed. Her youngest was tough, but was more reasonable than her eldest.
“Then what is it like?” She took in all of them with a single, dark gaze. Teague sat with Neema in his lap, his arm wrapped protectively around her. Kevin stood off by himself looking thoughtful, as usual.
The other three—Hank, Michael and Benjamin—paced and sat and stood and paced some more.
Fatigue washed over her. It had been a long day and an even longer night. “He said he means us no harm and I believe him.” She didn’t know why she did, but she trusted her instincts. Given his immediate negative reaction to the mere mention of bounty hunters, she didn’t think he would have anything to do with them.
But as much as she might think he was trustworthy, she couldn’t risk their lives. Too often, some elitist werewolves would tip off other wolves or, even worse, hunters to the location of half-breeds so the hunters could do their dirty work for them.
That had happened when they’d been living in Vegas back in the nineties. It had been a close call. One that still gave her nightmares on occasion. She’d come close to losing Benjamin and Kevin that time. Thankfully, they’d managed to destroy the hunters. Which brought her back to the problem at hand.
“Still,” Michael began to protest.
She held up her hand for silence. He shut his mouth, his jaw working as he swallowed his anger. “Still,” she echoed. “We cannot take a chance. We’ll start round-the-clock guard duty.” She turned to Benjamin. “You take the first shift and wake Hank next. After that, Kevin, Michael and Teague can all take a turn. It will be easier in the day. All of us will need to be more aware than ever for the next few weeks until we’re certain there is no threat from hunters or…others.”
She couldn’t bring herself to say his name aloud. Just the thought of him was enough to raise her blood pressure and send her hormones spiraling out of control.
The men looked slightly appeased and nodded. Good. It wasn’t always easy for her to maintain control of her small pack. She was alpha, but she was also female and the males were coming to an age where they wanted to test their boundaries and limitations. She worried about that constantly and struggled to balance all the wants and needs of her pack against their continued safety.
She lived in fear that someday one of them, or perhaps all of them, would leave. That would break her heart. She’d sacrificed so much, but she regretted not one moment of it. As long as her children were safe nothing else mattered. And they were all hers. Only two had been born of her body, but the other four were the children of her heart.
Michael strode to her side, went down on one knee before her and bowed his head. The formal pose was a tribute to her status as alpha. “It will be done.” He stood and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. “You should rest. You look tired.”
She touched her hand to his cheek and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Love swelled in her heart for her son. She had been on her own since he was a pup of seven, two years after Benjamin was born. She’d kept them both safe for the past thirty odd years, adding the others to the mix over the years.
They all came to her. One by one, they kissed her good night and offered their unwavering support. Hank came last, his head down. She tipped his face up until he was looking at her. “I’m proud of you, son. You’ve come a long way.” And he had. He’d been with them only five years. He’d spent his teenage years on the street and several in the army before the changes in his body had sent him running from everyone and everything he’d ever known.
All her adopted children had been alone in the world, not knowing about their heritage until she’d found them. The fact that they’d managed to stay alive and sane was a miracle in itself.
Hank’s pale blue eyes met hers and he nodded. She stroked his short hair, letting the bristles tickle her palm. That was one of the things he carried over from his time in the military. The discipline they’d taught him had enabled him to survive until he’d found them.
“I won’t let you down,” he promised, his words fierce.
“I know.” She stood and gave his arm one final pat before heading to the back of the bar to the staircase that led to the apartments above. Benjamin was already on watch and would patrol the building inside and out until it was time for the others to take their turn
.
Her steps were slow and measured as she made her way to her one-bedroom apartment. She’d given her sons the larger apartment on this floor, knowing they needed their privacy. She needed hers too. Now more than ever.
A sense of relief hit her as she closed the door behind her and set the lock. The warm, open space welcomed her. She’d decorated the place to her taste, had chosen every piece of furniture carefully. The plush brown sofa and chairs were welcoming after a long day. She’d whiled many an hour away curled up on that sofa reading, watching television or working on her laptop.
The kitchen and living space were separated by a counter. There were three stools there in case anyone dropped by to enjoy a coffee or a meal with her. She also had a little built-in eating nook beneath her kitchen window. It allowed her to enjoy a hot mug of tea and a good book while staring out at the city street below.
She didn’t bother with a light as she went straight to her bedroom. She didn’t need it. Not with her preternatural vision. But more than that, she knew this place like the back of her hand. She needed no light to know that her bedroom was painted a pale yellow with accents of green. Just being here soothed her, and right now she needed that.
Her shoes were hurting her feet after so many hours, so she kicked them off, sighing at the instant relief. She padded to her large closet, unzipping her dress as she went. Her nipples were still taut, her breasts swollen. The fabric rubbed against them as she pulled it off. She moaned, closing her eyes as heat ricocheted from her breasts to her sex.
It took every ounce of discipline she possessed to drape her dress on a hanger and put it with the other garments waiting to be taken to the drycleaners. The tiny pair of bikini panties she wore felt confining, so she yanked them off, stuffing them in the laundry hamper. They were still damp, a reminder of her arousal.
Naked, she padded to the bathroom. She needed a shower, but was too tired to take one. She settled for removing her makeup before stumbling to bed.
She pulled back the two thick comforters and climbed beneath. Sighing, she sank into the pillows, figuring she’d be asleep within two seconds. But sleep didn’t come.
The bold green comforters she’d chosen for the room were restricting rather than cozy. She pushed them down to her waist, letting the colder air of the room hit her skin. It cooled her heated skin somewhat, but also caused her nipples to pucker even more.
Groaning, she rolled over on her side, keeping her thighs clamped together. She was horny. No doubt about it. While it was perfectly normal for a female of her kind, a purely biological reaction, it was worse than it had been in years.
Once a female werewolf mated, the craving subsided somewhat. But not much. Having two children had subdued it a bit more, as though nature was satisfied now that she’d procreated and ensured the survival of the species.
But it never went away. Continuing to control her life. Thankfully, it was only once a year. But for those couple of days, she usually locked herself in her room away from her family. In the early years, after her husband’s death, she’d taken human lovers, one after another, to try to ease the physical ache. That hadn’t lasted long. Not only did it not help much, but she hated having sex without the emotional attachment. It reminded her too much of her mating.
No, she wouldn’t go there. Maxwell was dead and he’d given her two sons who were the joy of her life. For that alone she would forgive him for taking her unawares and forcing her to mate with him before she’d really had a chance to choose from the males of her pack.
Her chest ached and she rubbed her sternum. All her life she’d known she’d mate as soon as she came into heat for the first time. She hadn’t minded it too much even though there was no male in her pack who had made her feel anything beyond mild interest.
What she had been looking forward to was being able to shift into her wolf for the first time. That happened for males when they reached maturity, but females had to mate first, the act of sex allowing them to be able to shift. She’d always thought that grossly unfair, but such was life.
Still, she’d understood her duty and had been ready to do it. Maxwell had caught her out in the woods when the first pangs of heat had finally taken her. He should have taken her back to their pack compound, to her parents. Instead, he’d thrown her to the ground, mounting her from behind and taking her. And she’d been so far gone, so needy, she’d accepted him. At least her body had.
While there had been some complaints, they’d died a quick death. Maxwell was the alpha’s son and, as such, was too powerful for any to challenge.
“Go away, Max.” She whispered her plea into the dark. She had no idea why she was even thinking of him. She rarely did these days and her sons never asked about him. They knew he was dead. Killed by hunters. They also knew why she’d chosen to take them and run from one end of the country to the other rather than stay with their pack.
She’d had one forced mating and wasn’t ever going to allow another one. After Maxwell had been killed, her alpha had decreed that she needed to mate again. She’d kept her thoughts to herself and planned her getaway, taking her sons with her.
The early years had been tough. She gave a bitter laugh. That was putting it mildly. She’d had two young children, no marketable skills and a pack of werewolves on her tail. Not to mention bounty hunters.
What she’d had was a small nest egg of cash left to her by her maternal grandmother, which her husband hadn’t known about. No one had. Her grammy had given it to her and bade her tell no one, not even her parents. It was that money that had allowed her to run and to buy the building they now lived in.
She’d bought it cheap in the mid-eighties, long before the area’s revival. But it was only about twelve years ago that she’d felt safe enough to actually move to Chicago and take up residence here. The fear of her former pack had kept her running for years.
Those were memories best left buried. But Isaiah had dug them up and she knew why. She hadn’t felt this attracted to a male. Ever. He threatened her peace of mind, everything she’d built. There was no way she’d subjugate herself to a male ever again.
She chewed on her lower lip as she stared out into the night. The blinds were open, letting in the lights of the city. She missed the forest sometimes, the ability to change at will and run free. But those days were gone. When nights got too bad, she’d run in one of the large city parks, alone or with several members of her pack.
Right now, she wanted to run. Wanted to feel the change taking her over. Her skin rippled as her wolf sensed her unease. She swallowed hard and forced herself to be calm. There was no way she could run. Not now. Not with the threat of Isaiah out there somewhere in the city.
Her sex throbbed at the mere thought of him. The sensitive lips were swollen and flushed with need. Her breasts ached. She wanted to touch herself, to relieve the sexual tension swelling inside her, but she didn’t. It would leave her feeling worse than before.
The only time she gave into her sexual needs when she was in heat was when it was fully on her and there was no escape. To do so any sooner just made the problem worse.
She flumped over onto her back and started a mental list of supplies she had to order for the bar and the kitchen. Anything to try to take her mind off Isaiah and the heat consuming her body.
She wondered briefly where he was and what he was doing. Was he lying naked in bed, thinking of her?
Her skin flushed and the ache between her legs grew. She spread them wide, hoping the cool sheets would ease it. Knowing that it wouldn’t.
Closing her eyes, she began counting sheep and praying for morning.
Isaiah stared up at the ceiling as the walls seemed to close in around him. He wanted to fling open the door, change into his wolf and run until the unending edginess gnawing at his guts left him.
There were parks in the area, but he wasn’t certain which ones, if any, were safe. The last thing he wanted to do was start a rumor of a wolf in the area. That would bring every hunter wit
hin a five hundred mile radius running. And that was the very thing he didn’t want to do.
Instead, he lay naked, his body coated with a layer of sweat, and replayed every second he’d spent with Meredith. He could still taste her erotic flavor on his tongue. Sweet, like honey.
He groaned as his cock pulsed. He wondered what she’d taste like between her legs. He longed to strip her naked and crawl between them to find out. Thick and rich, like the finest cream. He was positive that’s what she’d taste like.
He rolled onto his side and stared out the second floor window. There was no balcony, so he’d left the drapes parted slightly, allowing him to see a sliver of the moon. It kept him from feeling quite so claustrophobic. The city was closing in on him more each passing minute, reminding him of how much he longed to run free. He felt fettered here. Chained in a way that was unnatural to his kind.
Funny, but he hadn’t even noticed that when he’d been at Haven. He’d been too enthralled with Meredith and watching her every move. She’d driven all other thoughts from his head.
His phone rang. It had been doing that on and off for the past hour. He thought about ignoring it again, but figured if he didn’t soon answer it, Joshua would be banging on his door before too long.
Reaching out, he snagged the disposable cell phone and answered. “What?”
“Where the hell have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your phone?”
His brother’s demanding tone rankled and set him to growling. “You’re not my damn alpha, Joshua. I don’t answer to you.”
Dead silence came across the line, but Isaiah refused to break it.
After a few tense moments, Joshua sighed. “I don’t understand you at all lately, brother.”
Isaiah rolled until he was sitting on the side of the mattress, the phone to his ear. The moon was practically invisible given all the lights of the city. But he knew it was up there, was able to see it due to his enhanced vision.
His shoulders bunched as the muscles tensed. He knew Joshua meant well, knew he owed his brother more than he could ever repay for taking over the position of Striker with their pack. Then there was the unavoidable fact that he loved him. Isaiah rolled his shoulders and tried to relax. It wasn’t easy with his cock throbbing incessantly.
Isaiah's Haven: Legacy, Book 2 Page 4