by Mark Henwick
I was going to deliver the message about Matlal, and get answers to my questions as well.
So much for the calming drive out to Haven.
“Ms. Farrell? You still there?”
“Yes. And I have a message. You can tell him to make the time to see me. I’m on my way in.”
“Ms. F—”
I cut her off and brought the Ford around in a U-turn, tires smoking, upsetting a couple of cars who were yards away from me, and in no real danger.
Alex had given me his business card at the dance, and I knew where his office was. I wasn’t going to take busy signals from him now. If there was something I could do, I’d do it. If he didn’t want me, he could tell me himself.
And if he said that? My guts twisted. Must have had too much coffee and doughnut.
His business was called Tallbarn Transportation and the premises was made up of a frame warehouse two stories high with a neat brick office on the side.
I guessed the secretary hadn’t taken me seriously enough to post a guard and there was no front desk as such. Someone called out from the warehouse as I walked up the open plan stairs, but I must have looked as if I belonged. They watched, but no one chased me.
The landing had just the two doors. To the left was a meeting room. It was empty. So much for the all-day meetings. Straight ahead had to be the boss’s office. Or rather, the secretary’s office, guarding her boss.
She jumped up from behind her desk, and I recognized her immediately. Olivia, from the rafters at the Weres’ barn meeting.
“What a surprise,” I said.
“You can’t go in—”
“Yeah, you told me. He’s in a meeting.” I ignored her, marching past.
“You don’t understand. It’s not safe—”
My hand closed on the handle as she reached me.
“Then he can tell me himself, or I’ll find out.” I opened the door.
Alex sat in darkness behind the broad mahogany arc of his executive desk. He was alone, his desk clear except for phones and pens and pads. His head was in his hands and he raised it slowly. His face looked tired and puffy, there were shadows under his eyes and his hands weren’t steady. But a tiny smile flickered in welcome and it was enough.
I turned in the doorway, blocking Olivia.
She tried to call over my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Deauville—”
“Olivia,” I said, calm and quiet, gripping her jacket and getting in her face. I was a hand span bigger than her and sergeants can do intimidating in their sleep. She wasn’t even going to get to finish a sentence while I was here.
Her mouth shut with a snap and she looked scared.
“Olivia, I’m going to be talking to Mr. Deauville for a good while, and I’d be pissed if we were disturbed. You said it’s not safe in here. Well, it just got a whole lot worse.”
“It’s all right, Olivia,” Alex said quietly.
She looked as if she had one more argument left in her and took a steadying breath. Brave girl.
I hadn’t come here with a plan or any idea of what I’d find. I was working on gut instinct—dangerous, but useful sometimes. My gut instinct had told me Olivia was one of the Weres having problems with changing, and it also told me that I might be part of some solution to that. Whether it suited my purpose or not, I couldn’t let that pass.
“You can’t change, can you?”
She stopped what she’d been about to say. A flush spread up her cheeks, her eyes dropped and her head followed. Wolf behavior.
“No,” she whispered. I’d seen the hunger in her eyes at the barn, and now I knew.
I let go of her jacket and tilted her face up until she had to look at me.
“If I can, I will help you. On my Blood, I so swear.”
She stood, shocked speechless, her mouth open and that look of hunger bubbling up in her. Alex’s breath hissed in the gloom behind me.
“Go take a coffee break,” I said and gave her a little push as I closed the door.
I stood resting my forehead against the door. I’d taken on another commitment—I was fine with that—but I’d taken her trust as well, and that wasn’t a burden I took lightly. Was I justified to make that call on a gut feeling?
The office was now nearly silent behind me. The solid door cut off the noise from the warehouse. There was no computer running, no air conditioning. I reached out with every sense and drank it all in: the scent of Alex, the hush of his breath, the thud of his heart. The wolf was very strong, very menacing. I knew this was stupidly dangerous, but I didn’t want to stop. Even with the violence threatening in this room, I didn’t want to leave. What the hell had they been doing to him? If I walked out now, the pack won.
“He’s making me change every night,” Alex said, answering my unasked question. His voice was hoarse. It raised goose bumps down my spine.
“Why?” I said, still facing the door.
“To drive out the demons.” He laughed. It had an ugly sound, like a madman’s laugh. “And he calls me superstitious.”
“What?” I turned.
Alex sat back in his seat, the leather and springs creaking. “Changing every night is supposed to reinforce the pack marque and loyalty. Get rid of the Athanate demon. It brings the wolf close to the surface.”
“Yeah? Well, you look like shit,” I said. If Felix thought he could ‘cure’ Alex, what might he have in store for me? What if he succeeded and Alex’s marque went back to the pack, leaving me as the sole odd one out? At least he hadn’t rejected Alex.
But if Alex was part Athanate, getting the wolf close to the surface made me worry about him turning rogue.
I inhaled his scent again. “And it’s only a couple of nights, I guess, but I can still smell the difference between you and the rest of the pack.”
Another tired smile chased across his face like the sun playing with the clouds. My stomach twisted, and it definitely wasn’t coffee and doughnuts this time.
“No. And it won’t change. I can feel it.”
“So why keep it up?”
“Because I’m pack and Felix is the alpha.”
“Why’s it that way around? Is Felix stronger?”
Alex didn’t like the question. His lips curled briefly in a snarl before he got it under control. “Felix wants the job and he’s good at it. The pack is stable under him. The last thing we need now is a split pack.”
“Oh, yeah. The other pack muscling in.” I felt too warm. I made myself stroll casually to the desk, slipped my jacket and shoulder holster off and draped them over the back of the guest chair. I sat down, just the width of the desk between us and the tension building in the air. “That’s one reason I had to see you.”
“Gods, Amber, how many reasons are there?” A glimpse of the real Alex showed through and a little thrill startled me into a shiver.
“Three. It’s traditional.” I leaned back and carefully crossed my legs, the rasp of jeans loud in the quiet. Alex shifted uncomfortably, his breath coming slower and deeper. The wolf rippled beneath the surface of his face.
“Don’t tease me,” he said.
I deliberately misunderstood him. “Okay. I’ve found the other pack does have an Athanate connection.”
He sat upright abruptly, making my heart lurch. “What?”
“One of the other Athanate in town is the leader of a faction of Athanate opposed to—”
“We know about Basilikos and Panethus, for God’s sake. We’re not stupid. You’re saying this is Basilikos?”
“Yeah. Matlal’s the name of the Athanate who’s doing this.”
“The same one who’s looking for you?”
“How—”
“The pack’s spread throughout Denver. We hear things, and your name gets our attention.” He sat back again, thoughtful. “Makes sense. We heard the other pack was doing some of that looking for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, joy. Athanate and Were chasing my tail. And the FBI.”
He chuckled. The tensi
on eased.
Well, that won’t last.
“Message received,” he said. “Why are you here, really?”
“You wouldn’t answer the phone. I didn’t know Olivia was your secretary, and even then, I wouldn’t be happy leaving that message with her.” I stopped and the silence pressed in on me. Big breath. “And I have to know where we stand, Alex, before the…before this weekend.” All the smart ways to put it, and I was left with words tumbling out, clumsy as a child’s building blocks.
It was important, and I couldn’t quite put it into words even for myself, but where I stood with the rest of the Athanate somehow depended on who stood with me. And I wanted him to be standing with me, whether that was in body or in spirit. I needed it.
He didn’t say anything. He got up and brought a jug and glasses from a side table, poured us water and handed one to me.
Our fingers brushed.
I could taste the desire in him. My Athanate was feeding on it. And Alex would know exactly how my body was responding. His wolf would be reading me: every page, every word, every letter, laid out before him. I might as well be writhing naked under a spotlight.
Was that reason two, or reason three for me to be here?
Down, girl. Reason three.
He sat back in his chair, gripping the armrests. His eyes wandered over me, lingering.
Oooh. I like.
“Olivia was right, it’s not safe for you to be here.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I’m not safe,” he snapped. “The more I go to the wolf, the more he bleeds back into me. He’s not changing my scent, but he’s changing how I behave.” His eyes looked up at me, full of hunger. I shivered again. “I can’t…you can’t ask a wolf to be restrained.” He twisted in his chair, trying to look away. “Now go.”
“No,” I said. “I told you there were three reasons. I guess you found the first one worthwhile?”
His temper flared, but he kept it under control, barely.
There were two ways I could do this from here. I chose the sergeant’s route. Frontal assault.
“Reason number two I’ve got to talk to you is Hope Gilliam.”
Alex nearly lunged over the desk. He caught himself, grabbing the edge for support, or to restrain himself, and snarled wordlessly at me. His bone structure hadn’t changed but I could see the wolf in his face, and it wasn’t pleased.
I could face down Olivia, but Alex in this state was another matter. Not that I wanted to. The wolf was frightening. But the fear and desire were pooling in my belly, mixing into a heady cocktail of lust and my Athanate was loving it. I stood, Athanate smooth and slinky. Maybe reason three had to go in front of reason two. The woman before the sergeant. Time for a tactical change of plan.
How close to the edge can I go?
“Alex…”
“Get out,” he said hoarsely. “It’s not safe.”
I didn’t meet his eyes. Instinct kept my head down as I edged around the desktop. I made no wolf challenges to him. Athanate or Were, whichever was feeding me suggestions, kept it coming.
He was panting, his chest laboring as if he’d just run a mile. I slunk closer, eyes down, my own breathing raggedly matching his. My hands were desperate to hold his body, my eyes eager to look into his, my whole body aching for him.
Slowly. Slowly. I kept my eyes down.
“Not safe,” he repeated, almost a note of panic in his voice.
I slid one hand under his jacket, flat against the crisp cotton of his shirt. He was burning beneath my palm.
“Olivia’s here,” I whispered. “Isn’t she in danger too?”
He was trembling now. I laid my head gently against his chest, caressed it with my cheek as I eased his jacket back.
“Pack,” he muttered. “Pack’s safe.”
“Hmmm.” I nuzzled against him, thinking wolf thoughts, breathing in his scents. I nipped at the flesh of his neck as his jacket fell off, and tilted my head back to offer him my throat. “I’m pack too, remember.”
This wasn’t any fairy tale, and I wasn’t ever going to tame this wolf. Certainly not now. He reeked of violence and I was coaxing him to unleash it, because that was what he needed. And because he needed it, I wanted it too. Just so long as I could ride the storm, I would be safe. Falling off would be fatal.
Despite his warnings, the man was still restraining the wolf. His hands hung loosely, and I knew I could turn away and walk out, if I wanted to. I didn’t want to.
I’d have to goad him into releasing himself. He’d shown me how to do it, but gods above, I was going to have to rebuild bridges afterwards.
I pulled his head down until I felt his mouth on my neck. His jaw gaped reflexively, wolf instinct, and his teeth were suddenly gripping my throat. I flinched, awful images from that night in South America threatening to leap out from where I kept them. Then I took a shaky breath and relaxed.
I’m in your power, wolf. I’m submitting to you completely.
“Was Hope here, like this?” I asked, the words coming out as a croak from the awkward position.
His groan echoed in my chest and I nearly lost my nerve, but my Athanate could sense him slipping and whipped me on.
“Show me,” I hissed.
He growled and shoved me back against the desk. His fingers tore at my belt and jeans, snapping the stud and breaking the zip. As he ripped the clothes from my hips, his dark desire billowed out of him like a thundercloud.
Yes, yes, my Athanate was crying, drinking it in. I knew exactly what Alex wanted, how he wanted it, so clearly I could almost taste it. I was in his head. His lust was searing through my veins.
I reached for him.
But this wasn’t the considerate man who’d teased me in his bed. He spun me around. The glasses, the jug of water and the writing pads went flying off the sides and I grabbed hold of the desk.
There was no touch, no warning other than the short, ugly rasp of his zip before he thrust himself into me. Every sensation was overwhelmed by the fierce spike of passion that shot through both of us.
“Yes,” I gasped, my face smeared against the unyielding wood, wet with the cold water spreading over it.
I’d never been so powerless making love; I was trapped against the desk by the battering of his lust. And I’d never felt so powerful, with an intoxicating sense of controlling this tornado of desire, discharging it through my body.
“Amber…” he groaned and I felt his teeth against the back of my neck, wolfish, biting, breaking skin. I reached and grabbed his hair, dragging him down closer to my face. Through the staccato panting of our lovemaking I told him how fantastic it felt.
His body convulsed; I could feel the surge of his orgasm lifting both of us, binding us together. His frantic thrusts blurred into one endless burning. I arched up and cried out as it took us. His matching call was strangled through vocal chords no longer fully human.
Our cries blended and died away and we slumped down onto the desk.
“Alex,” I whispered as we slid off and collapsed on the floor.
Chapter 37
It’s undignified having your jeans around your ankles, even more than lying half naked and glowing from sex on the floor of the office, so I pulled my boots off and shucked my jeans and T. I hoped Olivia took her guard duty more seriously now than she had earlier. We stripped him, and I stretched my body over his, purring, sinking my claws into him.
Mine, mine, mine, yammered my Athanate triumphantly.
He snorted and was about to say something, so I pinned him back against the carpet with a kiss.
“Hmmm?” I asked, when I let him get his breath.
“That was stupid,” he said.
“Yup.” I rubbed against his chest.
“Hasn’t changed anything.”
“Uh-huh.” It had, but I’d let him realize that in his own time.
“Why are you asking me about Hope?”
“Two reasons.” I pressed two fingers against his chin.<
br />
“Do you have a numbered list for everything?” he complained.
I smiled. The wolf was still there, but deep in the shadows. I wondered if it ever went away. They say for every time you see the wolf, it has watched you one thousand times. I shivered.
“Of course I never spoke to my great-grandmother, when she was alive, but one of the wise phrases that was passed down was this: no one ever really dies as long as someone keeps them in their heart.” He shifted beneath me, but stilled again. I kissed his chest, left side, fourth rib down. “You hold her. Let me share the burden.”
He was silent for a long time. “What’s the second?”
“Part of the first. I need to know how she died.”
He tensed, and his scent roiled with conflict, but the wolf stayed hidden. I’d be able to deal with this using words.
“Why?” he said.
“To know her. And to make sure my heart and my head stay in line.”
He snorted again, and the tension scent changed, became darker.
“She and I were both infused at the same time,” he said. “I could change. She couldn’t.”
Ahhh.
“Then I’ll say it again,” I whispered, “for Olivia and for Hope, if I can help, I will.”
But I’d pushed him onto a course and he wasn’t listening this time. “It kills eventually,” he muttered. “The body tries to force a change. It’s agonizing. Some parts work, some don’t.” The stark horror of it oozed out of his voice. “I kept praying she could do it. Just hold off another minute, another minute. She was screaming for me to kill her.”
I held him, my words useless for this pain.
“I don’t know if I did, in the end, or if she just died. The pack…” he stopped for several breaths. “We were at Bitter Hooks with the pack. They gather for it. For support. They helped me bury her up there. The body…the thing that was left. It’s there.”
I will remember you, Hope. You will live in me and we will ease this pain together.
His breath sighed out in a long stream. “I’m sorry,” he said.