by L. L. Raand
Only the quickest and the best would ever defeat Sylvan Mir, not a ragtag bunch of undisciplined street fighters and addicts. And it would either take numbers, which they did not now have, or a highly skilled strike force. Francesca had given her the task of recruiting an army, and she’d do her best to fulfill that order, but she wasn’t interested in a suicide mission. She preferred to draw out Sylvan with a small cadre of soldiers—an ambush would be ideal. All she needed was the right bait.
First, though, she needed to recruit mercenaries who would be willing to risk their lives. Francesca had assured her that money was not an issue, but she wasn’t certain that Weres would be swayed by monetary enticements. Humans almost always were. She did know what would sway a Were, though. In the world of predators, the currency was power.
She pushed through the door and into a long, narrow room ringed by tables and crowded with bodies. The bar ran along one side with blinking signs and bottles lined up in haphazard rows on several shelves along the wall. The overhead black lights cast everyone in the eerie glow of moonlight. Weres and humans and Vampires mingled in a seething mass, those who were hosting having made their bodies available by wearing nothing under their vests, to expose their necks, chests, breasts, and bellies. Those who offered sex as well as blood leaned against the walls, leather pants and denim jeans open to allow the Vampires to fuck and feed. The room was stifling and awash with the scent of blood and pheromones. Dru’s cat was well satisfied after Francesca had drained her to the point of exhaustion, but her clitoris twitched all the same. She ignored the automatic response and scanned the room until she found a familiar face.
Marcus was a dominant wolf Were she’d often seen with Bernardo at Nocturne when the Blackpaws had come for sex. He’d been a lieutenant, although not one of Bernardo’s inner circle. She worked her way through the crowd, brushing past Vampires feeding from the throats of Weres who spent themselves in empty air. A hand reached out and brushed her thigh, and she found herself face-to-face with a male Vampire whose eyes glowed crimson and whose incisors glinted beneath his seductive smile.
“I’ve always preferred cats to wolves,” he said.
“Then you show excellent judgment,” Dru replied. His hand slipped between her thighs, finding the base of her clitoris with unerring certainty. He massaged her lightly and she hissed.
“So much more powerful,” he murmured, “and far sweeter.”
Her pelt rolled beneath her skin and suddenly she was running, her heart thudding, her loins filled, her belly tight with the thrill of the chase. She shuddered. His thrall called to her and she could not afford to lose herself in sex frenzy. She gripped his wrist, stilling the rhythmic motion of his fingers as he milked her. “What are you doing in a place like this? Don’t they offer you enough slaves at your Clan home?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’ve always been a rule breaker.”
She smiled. He was clever, and Francesca needed to rebuild her Vampire minions. She would appreciate a clever, handsome one like him who could draw human blood slaves as well as other discontented Vampires to her newly forming court. “So, you drained someone and have been banished.”
“An accident.” He leaned forward and licked her throat. His hand closed around her, and her clitoris stiffened fully, beating in his palm. “I could drain you willingly, though.”
She was ready again and pelt streamed down the center of her bare belly. “Francesca has already done that tonight.”
He jerked away and bowed his head slightly. “My apologies. I did not know.”
She pushed him back into the shadows and clasped his neck, guiding his head to her throat. “A taste. Then perhaps you’ll accompany me back to the lair. I’ll warn you, though, Francesca will not suffer disobedience.”
“I would rather obey you.”
“You will.” She opened his pants and gripped him before he could move between her thighs. “Just a taste.”
His bite was smooth and sleek, nearly as practiced as Francesca’s, but without her power. The hormones he released into Dru’s blood made her burn and her glands emptied, but she held on to her sanity, something she could never do with Francesca. She massaged him as he fed and he spent against the wall in long, thin arcs. When she pulled away, he hissed in protest but sealed her throat with a swipe of his tongue. He hardened again in her hand, her blood giving him power.
“I would be honored to join Francesca and her Clan,” he whispered, shuddering in her grasp.
She guided him back into his pants. “You’ve had enough tonight. Be ready to leave soon.”
He nodded, his eyes still hungry. “As you command.”
She laughed and left him. Marcus was watching her as she made her way to him.
“Francesca sends her greetings,” Dru said.
He regarded her stonily. He was big and brawny with sharp, intelligent dark eyes. His biker garb was well-worn and fit him like the uniform it was. “I’ve seen you with her. Who are you to the Vampire, Cat?”
She smiled, letting him see a glint of her canines. “One of her army.”
He snorted. “What army?”
“We have common cause,” Dru said, ignoring the jibe. “You are a Blackpaw—unless I am wrong—and you are now Timberwolf.”
He snarled and spat on the floor. “I would never show my belly to Sylvan Mir.”
“What choice do you have as long as she controls all your territory and your wolves?” She looked around the dingy, stark room filled with scruffy renegade addicts of one kind or another. “Unless this is where you prefer.”
“What do you offer?”
“A chance to take back what is rightfully yours—your Pack and its lands.”
He smirked. “How?”
“Sylvan Mir is no friend to Francesca, and without Mir in power, the Timberwolves will not be able to keep the Blackpaws under their rule.”
“You’ll need more than an army to displace her.”
“I don’t want an army in numbers, only a skilled force willing to be bold.”
“And follow you?”
“No.” Dru smiled. “Follow us.”
Chapter Fourteen
Just after moonrise, Gray drifted through the trees and hunkered down beside Tamara where she crouched on a rocky overhang above a game trail a mile from the outer perimeter of the Compound. “Anything?”
“Just deer,” Tamara said. “Have there been any sightings anywhere?”
Gray shrugged. “Not that I know of.” She hesitated, sensitive to Tamara’s conflicted feelings about being part of a Timberwolf patrol lying in wait for Blackpaws. Still, she was Pack now and should be treated that way. Pack meant trust and loyalty. “Have the Blackpaws ever penetrated this deep into our territory?”
Tamara was silent for a long time. Gray waited, searching the forest for any hint of intruders. Small prey scuffled through the undergrowth and occasionally a deer wandered through. When the wind shifted and carried the hint of predator down the slope, the deer flicked a tail and dashed away with so much grace Gray didn’t even mind letting it go. She hadn’t hunted with the Pack since her rescue, except when the Alpha insisted. She still wasn’t sure she could control her wolf enough to let her run with others. Once in pelt, she wanted to fight, or fuck, anyone who gave the slightest hint of challenge.
“You’re not betraying anyone—not if they’re planning an attack on our Compound. We have young there. What honorable wolf would attack a den with young inside?”
“I don’t know if patrols ever came this far into Timberwolf territory,” Tamara finally said. “I’m not that high ranking, and the only raiding party I was ever part of was the one where your…the Alpha captured us.”
“I can’t see why they would risk it,” Gray muttered. “They must know we would outnumber them.”
“Maybe they don’t care. Or maybe they have help.”
Gray bristled. “What do you mean, help? Do you think we have traitors among us?”
“It wouldn’t b
e the first time.” Tamara snorted. “I’m sure most everyone in the Compound would consider me a possibility for that role.”
Gray shook her head. “That’s not true. Not every Timberwolf is born in Pack. Lots of us came from somewhere else. Even our medicus was once a Blackpaw.”
Tamara stiffened. “Who?”
“Sophia. The one who came to look at your back in the prison cell. She was a Blackpaw once.”
Tamara frowned. “Then what is she doing here with you?”
Gray scratched at a bug crawling on her neck and used the diversion to sort out her thoughts. Maybe she shouldn’t be talking about the imperator’s mate, but everyone in the Pack knew the story. And if it helped Tamara feel less like an outsider, she couldn’t see the harm. “I don’t know the whole story. It never seemed to matter. But I know she’d been in danger in the Blackpaw Pack somehow and her parents came to our Alpha for sanctuary.”
“Danger,” Tamara said softly. “From Bernardo?”
“I think so, or maybe the Alpha before him.”
“From what everyone said, there wasn’t much difference.”
“She’s like you, you know,” Gray said quietly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. I just don’t understand why you don’t want to talk about it.”
“Everything’s always clear to you, isn’t it,” Tamara said. “You’ve always known who you were and what you were. Everyone else did too. All you had to do was find your place somewhere along the line. You would tussle and tangle and dominate until you couldn’t anymore and, when you finally submitted, that’s where you belonged.”
“What of it? We’re wolves. That’s our way.”
“Not for everyone.”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you ever want to tussle just so you could submit, just so you could feel another Were between your legs?”
Gray stared hard through the gloom, knowing what her answer would mean. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a dominant Were.”
“How would you feel if you were about to submit another Were in the midst of a tangle and all of sudden you couldn’t bring yourself to do it? When all you could think of was how good it would feel to drag them down on top of you?”
“I…” Gray didn’t know, not exactly. But she knew what it was to crave something she’d never imagined wanting. “You don’t know as much about me as you think.”
“No? Then how am I wrong?”
Gray would rather fight a dozen Blackpaws with only tooth and claw than admit to anyone, especially this female, how far she had fallen from her place in the Pack. “Never mind.”
“You expect me to show you my belly,” Tamara said, “but you protect yours.”
“Maybe I don’t want you to see.”
“It has to do with pain, doesn’t it?”
Gray vaulted to her feet and Tamara grabbed the waistband of her BDUs and jerked her down. “Remember where we are. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No,” Gray rasped. She rubbed her forehead as if she could reach inside and tear out the memories. “You’re right. I was in a cell once too. In chains, real chains, and after a while, I gave in.”
“I’m sorry.” Tamara gripped her wrist. “You don’t have to tell me—”
“I know I don’t.” Gray laughed under her breath to prevent the tears that trembled on her lashes from falling. “That’s the price, though, isn’t it? Secret for secret?”
“I suppose it could be. One for one.”
“I didn’t mind the beatings. My wolf was strong enough to take anything they could do, but there were other things. Drugs and torture—I couldn’t fight those.”
“I’m so sorry. Are they dead now, the ones who did this?”
“Some of them.”
Tamara rubbed Gray’s back, lightly scratching her nails between Gray’s shoulder blades, up and down, up and down. “Are you still hurting?”
Gray shuddered. Tamara’s blunt claws stroked her tenderly, the compassionate caresses filling her belly with warmth and more than comfort. Want. “Not really. I dream. I remember.”
Tamara nuzzled Gray’s neck, whining softly and kissing the side of her jaw. “You’re strong, I can feel it. The memories will fade even if they never disappear.”
Gray turned quickly and her mouth brushed the corner of Tamara’s. Her clitoris tensed and her belly tightened. She gripped her shoulders. “You make me forget. You make me feel like I used to. Strong and sure.”
Tamara took a stuttering breath. Gently, she murmured, “Gray, I think you’d better move away. Because you make me want things too.”
Gray inched away until their bodies no longer touched and Tamara’s hand was no longer stroking her. She couldn’t bear to leave her, though, couldn’t stop now. She kept watching the trail. It was easier somehow to talk about her fears that way. “I like the pain, sometimes. Such fire blazing through me, burning everything in its path, until there’s only pleasure at the end.” She rubbed her belly, trying to soothe the ache between her thighs. Knowing it would do no good. She glanced quickly at Tamara, saw her eyes glow gold, scented her desire. “I want to be between your legs right now.”
“I know. I want you there.” Tamara sighed. “And I want to be on top of you, riding you. It’s not so simple for either of us.”
“I don’t mind that. I don’t fear you above me.”
Tamara laughed softly in the moonlight. “Most dominants would.”
“I’m not like most dominants.”
“Then you’ll have to show me, soon.”
“I will.”
Tree branches rustled and Gray’s wolf went on alert. She crawled forward and peered down the game trail. After a second, she relaxed. “Callan is coming.”
“And someone’s with him,” Tamara whispered.
“Come on.” Gray led the way down the hillside to the trail.
Callan emerged from the shadows with a human beside him. The male was about Callan’s height, not as bulky in the shoulders, with light hair mostly covered by a dark watch cap, pale blue eyes just visible in the faint light, and a smooth, strong-jawed face with just a hint of softness around his wide mouth. He looked oddly happy, as if there was nothing else in the world he’d rather be doing than tromping through the forest in the middle of a cold, damp night.
“Gray,” Callan said, “this is Clint. He’ll be with your squad. Find him a place on the line.”
“He’s human,” Gray said.
The male’s grin broadened. “Through and through.” He saluted. “Clint Edgemont, ma’am. Happy to—”
“You don’t have to salute me,” Gray snarled. She stared at Callan. “What am I supposed to do with a human?”
Callan rumbled at her challenging tone, and Gray dropped her gaze.
“Captain,” Gray added apologetically.
“Put him in rotation. An extra sentrie will help everyone get more rest and time for food. You might be out here for a while.”
“He’s not going to be able to stand watch alone.”
“Put him with a spotter. He’s an expert marksman.”
“I can spot,” Tamara said.
The male glanced at Tamara and his smile broadened, making him look attractive for a human. “That would work just fine.”
Gray’s wolf howled. She didn’t want this human anywhere near Tamara, even if he was a relative weakling. “I don’t think—”
“That should work,” Callan said, fixing Gray with a hard stare. “See to it, squad leader.”
She fisted a salute. “Yes, Captain.”
When Callan disappeared down the line, Gray jammed her hands on her hips and faced off with Clint. “How well can you shoot?”
He still looked like he was on his way to a party, but the expression in his eyes darkened and she recognized a hunter beneath his easygoing manner. “I was a Marine sniper. I can hit anything, day or night, a thousand ya
rds or more.”
“Set up at the top of the ridge over there. Tamara will show you where.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said jauntily, tossing another grin in Tamara’s direction. He bent to shoulder his gear as Tamara moved closer to Gray.
“I’ll look out for him,” Tamara said.
“If it comes to a fight, don’t risk yourself for him. He won’t be able to keep up.”
“He came here to help us.”
“We don’t need his help.”
Tamara stroked Gray’s forearm, her touch warm and comforting. “Maybe we don’t, but we might need his friendship, him and others like him.”
“I don’t like him.”
Tamara leaned even closer, her mouth brushing Gray’s ear. “Don’t forget you have something to show me soon.”