by Terry Spear
Mae didn’t think. Scrambling from the closet, she searched for Tucker. As she dashed toward the bedroom, the grunts and thumps of Rogue fighting off the vampires mixed with the unmistakable sound of gunshots in the distance. Violence erupted throughout the compound. The howls of the Grey Wolf warriors sounded in a chilling chorus, alerting the pack. A shiver ran down Mae’s spine. This wasn’t just an assault on her—it was a full-on attack against her pack.
Tucker was huddled in the corner of her bedroom, trembling like a terrified, abused animal. Scooping the piglet into her arms, she ran for the front door.
She needed to get out of here, to the underground bunker with the other women and children.
She wrenched open her front door, only to find herself face-to-face with her enemies. Red eyes stared at her. So many glowing red eyes. Mae stumbled back inside with a shriek, dropping Tucker, who darted through the open door into the melee with a terrified squeal.
Instinct took over. She had no choice but to fight.
Shifting into her wolf, Mae lunged for the vampire closest to her and sank her teeth into the flesh of its arm. The taste of iron and death coated her tongue, disgusting and foul, but she was no match for several at once. A second vamp ripped her from its friend. Mae’s head bashed against the drywall. Pain split through her skull and a yelp tore from her throat before she fell to the floor, her temple throbbing.
She tried to stand, but the second vampire gripped her by her scruff, lifting her until her neck was exposed. She winced, bracing herself for the pain of its bite.
But it never came.
Suddenly, she fell to the floor, free of the vampire’s grasp. When Mae opened her eyes again, Rogue was standing over the vampire’s corpse, a lacquered stake clutched in his hand. Vampire blood was spattered across his face. Mixed with his scars and the golden glow of his wolf eyes, he looked lethal, feral. She’d expected Rogue to leave her for dead like the criminal he was, to abandon her. But he hadn’t.
For a fleeting moment, it didn’t matter that he was a criminal. The dark emotion in his gaze told her everything she needed to know.
I’ll protect you. You have my word.
Two more vampires burst in through the door, drawing Rogue’s attention back to the fight. A roaring battle cry ripped from his throat as he met the oncoming bloodsuckers blow for blow. Though it was two against one, he held his own. He shifted into his wolf—a massive grey alpha, at least twice her size. He was gorgeous and wild, fighting as if he regularly faced danger and death. Considering his reputation, she had no doubt that was true, but this wasn’t for his own interests.
This was for her.
When the last bloodsucker fell, Rogue stood over them in wolf form. His chest heaved in and out as his haunches lowered. Black tufts peppered his steely-gray fur, and a gnarled scar marred his left eye, mirroring his human form.
Fighting still raged in the distance, the echo of automatic weapons carrying loudly in the still night air. But here, inside her home, for the moment, all was calm.
Slowly, the air around him bent and twisted as he shifted. Mae shifted into human form again and lowered her gaze. She retrieved her nightgown and tugged it on. When she turned around, he was clothed, the only signs of the fight a few small spatters of blood on his face and hands.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “That was”—she searched for the right word—“heroic,” she breathed.
“Make no mistake, Princess. I’m no hero.”
She wasn’t sure she believed him. He was every bit her savior, as much as the devil darkening her doorstep.
Another round of shouts sounded from outside her house.
“More will come,” he snarled. “Run.”
Mae fled for the door, Rogue right at her heels. Outside, the sounds of clashing metal weapons and gunfire rang in the distance. The damp night grass moistened her bare feet.
As she turned to run, Rogue’s sharp whistle drew her attention, and seconds later, a large, brown mustang galloped into sight. Rogue vaulted into the saddle. The horse’s brutal black eyes flared as the horse let out a furious whinny. But the dark cowboy who rode the beast was the true intimidator.
The sounds of the Grey Wolf warriors’ howls echoed again. A chill ran down Mae’s spine. Her friends, her family.
“I have to help them,” she murmured.
She started to run toward the main compound. She had to help, to try to save them. But Rogue and his horse blocked her path. “Easy,” he warned. “If you value your life, you’ll come with me.” He extended a hand toward her. His dark gaze pierced hers. “This is the only way you can save them.”
Another round of gunfire rang out, confirming her worst fears. Each shot shook her as if the bullet had landed in her own chest. Everything in her called out to go to them, to find some way to protect them. But if what he’d said about the antidote was true—and she doubted many things about the Rogue, but not what he’d said about that—then he was right.
This was the only way.
Her eyes darted to where the sounds of the melee originated. “And what about Tuck—?”
“Get on the damn horse, woman,” he growled.
Her heart thumped hard against her chest as adrenaline coursed through her. She glanced between him and the expanse of pasture where the sounds of battle raged in the distance. What was the word of a criminal worth? She wasn’t sure she knew the answer, but as she stared into his ice-blue eyes, some instinct told her this wolf’s word was worth more than most.
Tentatively, she placed her hand in his.
He tugged her up into the saddle in front of him before he gave the horse a sharp kick. The mustang raced toward the surrounding forest.
As they rode into the darkness, uncertainty shook her and the hairs on the back of her neck rose on end. Mae would go to any length to save her pack. Leaning forward, she gripped the saddle horn. She didn’t allow herself to look back as the last sight of Wolf Pack Run and the vampires faded into the distance. She only glanced over her shoulder toward the wicked wolf at her back.
Chapter 4
What had she gotten herself into? Mae swallowed—hard—as Rogue tugged on the reins. His deep voice wrapped around her, smooth as velvet.
“Almost there now,” he said.
Those were the first words he’d spoken to her since they’d escaped Wolf Pack Run. For the past several hours, they’d ridden in silence, only the late-night sounds of the forest and the bright summer moonlight guiding their way. Cradled in the darkness and with the gentle sway of the horse beneath her, she’d lost herself in the passing of the trees, so much so that she’d almost allowed herself to forget the mysterious wolf at her back.
She had no such comfort now.
As his horse slowed, Rogue dismounted, making quick work of removing his remaining weaponry from the leather saddlebag. Mae watched as he retrieved three extra blades. He slipped one into each boot before he passed the third to her. “For protection,” he grumbled. “Helluva a lot better than a kitchen knife.”
“You say that like a chef’s knife is useless for stabbing someone.”
He pegged her with a hard look. “In untrained hands, it is.”
Mae averted her gaze. Somehow, she got the impression he knew that from experience. She turned the knife over in her hands. She was still perched in the saddle.
“You gonna dismount?” he drawled.
“We’re stopping here?” Mae arched her brows as she looked around them. “We’re less than a mile from the border of the packlands.”
“I’m aware of that.” He drew a flask from the back pocket of his jeans. “We’ll walk from here.”
“Why?”
He swirled the whiskey inside his flask. The smoky scent drifted to Mae’s wolf senses on the summer breeze. He didn’t answer. Instead, he drew a long swig from the flask. “Are you incapable of
walking?” he asked. “I offered you protection, not pampering, Princess.”
She scowled. “If you’re implying I’m high maintenance, save it.” With one quick swoop of her leg, she dismounted, landing in the dirt with a graceful thud. A layer of grime covered her bare feet and her nightgown hem, and she clutched his blade in her hand. She knew she looked every bit the stubborn country girl. “For your information, I figured we’d at least find a rogue house.”
The cottages—which, from Mae’s understanding, were scattered throughout the country—provided a safe haven for packless wolves.
A bemused grin crossed his lips. “How’s a pack wolf like you know anything about that?”
She shrugged. “My cousin, Belle. The one you met in the vampires’ cells. She’s told me plenty about rogues.”
A once-rogue wolf and physician who’d been coerced into a nefarious pack called the Wild Eight, Belle Beaumont was now as Grey Wolf as they came, considering she was mated to the Grey Wolf high commander, Colt Cavanaugh.
Rogue cast Mae a dark glance. “If you’ve got a problem roughing it, you can thank your brute of a brother. There’re no rogue houses within a hundred-mile radius of Wolf Pack Run, thanks to him.”
She bristled. “Maverick is fearsome to his enemies, but he’s not a criminal.”
“I might be a criminal, but you can trust in that.”
“I do.” Her hand rested on the leather of his mustang’s saddle. Her features tightened and her eyes flashed to those of her wolf, drawing into a look that was meant to be threatening. “You knew about that attack,” she accused. “Are you in league with the vampires?”
He smirked. From his display of amusement, he thought she was no more a threat to a wolf like him than a fly. If she was honest with herself, she likely wasn’t. He held the upper hand between them, whether she liked it or not.
“If you truly believed that, you wouldn’t have come with me. You wouldn’t be trusting me to find the bloodsucker to create the antidote for you and your packmates.” He pocketed his flask. “I’ve done a lot of things, but colluding with vampires isn’t one of them.”
“How can I be certain?”
“Says the woman who alerted them to our hiding place.”
She gaped at him. “What was I supposed to do? Let them kill Tucker?”
“Last I checked, you could have chosen not to endanger our lives for the sake of a hog.”
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “Tucker’s not a hog. He’s a teacup pig.”
His brow furrowed. “There’s a difference?”
She placed her hands on her hips. “Of course there is.”
Rogue adjusted his Stetson. “A hog by any other name still rolls in sh—”
“Hush your mouth,” she hissed. “He takes buttermilk baths, you monster.”
He chuckled again as he stepped away from her. “Is that to make the bacon more flavorful?”
Her jaw dropped. “Tucker will never be bacon,” she growled.
“You work on a ranch,” he countered.
She knew as well as he did that the Grey Wolves sold their livestock to make a living. It was the way most people—werewolves or not—made their living around these parts. But that didn’t mean she had to consume the product the pack produced.
“Yes, but I’m a vegetarian,” she said.
“Of course you are. A vegetarian rancher who names their livestock,” he gently mocked.
“I can respect the work of my pack without endorsing it.” She placed her hands on her hips. “And I don’t see how naming Tucker is any different from you naming your horse.”
“Bee is not food.”
“Neither is Tucker.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What kind of a name is B anyway? It’s a letter. Not a name.”
“Like Tucker is so much better. It rhymes with fuc—”
She growled again, interrupting him. “It’s because he loves to tuck his blankets into a pile with his snout.”
“He’s a pig. It’s called rooting, like when they look for acorns in the wild, and Bee is a nickname. His full name is Beelzebub.”
She wrinkled her nose. “What a horrible name for such a gentle giant.”
“You’ve never seen him backed into a corner.”
As if in response, the horse in question stomped one of his front legs and started biting at his reins to get free. Rogue reached into the horse’s mouth and removed its bit, only for the beast to snap at his hand in response. He cursed at it beneath his breath as Mae examined the forest around them.
Still on edge from the vampire attack, every sound, every movement alerted her.
“If we slow our pace, they could find us,” she warned.
From the dark grin on Rogue’s lips, her response amused him. “So worried Big Brother will come after you?” He cleared his throat. “Don’t worry, Princess. Your brother and his minions won’t notice you’re missing yet.”
She scowled. She’d meant the vampires, not her packmates, but he’d meant to irk her and he’d succeeded. “Those minions are the Grey Wolf elite warriors,” she grumbled. “And my packmates. The same packmates I want to protect from the vampires and their serum.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. What sort of damage had been done to her home, her family and friends?
Rogue seemed to read the concern on her face, and the harshness in his features softened. “Forget about your pack and the vampires for now. Come sunrise, we’ll be long gone.” He stepped forward, pegging her with a dark stare. Even in the moonlight, his eyes were stunningly blue, chilling and as cool as ice. “And you will be safe.”
It was a brutal reminder of all that was at stake—the antidote, her pack, her life—and everything he’d done to save her.
He’d been so heroic. Nothing like the criminal character his reputation painted.
Mae was about to say as much, but Rogue froze. His eyes flashed golden. Had he been in wolf form, his haunches would have risen in fierce warning. Mae stiffened. She heard it too. A rustle in the bushes.
Slowly, as the rustling grew louder, Rogue reached to his boot, grabbing the dagger he’d secured there. He eased it from its sheath, crouching in preparation for a fight as Mae clutched the blade he’d given her until her fingers turned white. Her heart raced.
But instead of a threat, a small pink-and-black-spotted piglet emerged from the bushes.
“Tucker!” Mae squealed, instantly dropping the knife.
“Shit,” Rogue swore.
Mae raced toward the piglet, scooping him into her arms and cradling him against her as she cooed. “Oh, you sweet, sweet baby.”
Rogue quirked a brow. “How the hell did he get all the way out here?”
“Maybe he hid in one of our bags?” Mae shrugged. “What does it matter? He’s here now.” She tickled under the pig’s chin. “You found us, you smart little piggy.”
“Intelligent bacon,” Rogue grumbled. “Who knew?”
The horse gave a huff of acknowledgment.
“Pigs are incredibly smart,” she shot back.
Rogue was shaking his head. “Pigs aren’t smart. They’re easy to train. They’re gluttons motivated by food.”
“Hush,” she hissed at him, drawing closer to where he and Bee stood. But as she did so, Tucker let out an angry grunt, snapping and biting at the air as they neared Bee.
In response, Bee growled. Actually growled. The horse bared its teeth, snapping its jaws at Tucker as his dark eyes flashed in anger. Mae was certain she’d never heard a horse growl before, except for Black Jack, a hellion of a beast belonging to Wes, the Grey Wolf second-in-command. In an instant, Rogue’s typically sweet horse suddenly looked as if he’d been possessed by a demon. Hell, it put even ornery old Black Jack to shame.
Mae blanched, scurrying back with Tucker still grunting angrily in her arms.
“Easy. Easy.” Rogue tugged on Bee’s reins, fighting to calm the mustang.
“Apparently, Beelzebub is a fitting name,” Mae muttered.
Rogue shot her a look of I told you so. “That was nothing. I suggest you keep that monstrous little hog away from him.”
She stroked Tucker’s smooth hide in an attempt to calm him. “It isn’t Tucker’s fault. It’s his instincts. Pigs are very territorial.”
“He’s no match for Bee’s temper when he lets loose, and unlike your pig, Bee isn’t destined to be food.”
“No, but if he comes after Tucker again, he may be glue when I’m through with him.”
Rogue ignored her comment. Gripping the reins of his horse, he led the mustang alongside him, heading into the shadows.
“Where are you going?” Mae asked.
“To the river.”
She quirked a brow. “The river?”
The river ran just along the outskirts of Grey Wolf territory. It was the marker the pack recognized as the end of their lands. She and her closest childhood friend, Jared, had ventured there once when they were children. It’d taken them all day to make the trip, and they’d returned so late after dark that the Grey Wolf soldiers patrolling the packlands had needed to escort them back home. Their parents had nearly skinned both their hides. But the adventure had been worth it.
Rogue sauntered into the darkness, leading his horse behind him.
The shadows swallowed them both, leaving Mae standing there alone.
She hesitated, staring at the spot where Rogue had disappeared. Despite the fact that she was alone and rarely trekked this far from the ranch, this part of the forest felt familiar, safe. She was still within the reach of her packmates. But just up ahead, near the river, the shadows looming over her might as well have been screaming.
This way lies danger.
But if she stayed…
She thought of her brother, her packmates. The Grey Wolves wouldn’t surrender. The vampires might have caught the pack off guard this time, but she knew the fierce warrior wolves among her pack wouldn’t allow the vampires to overrun them. Even as she and Rogue had made their escape, it was clear from the sounds and the few glimpses she caught that the wolves were winning. She hadn’t been able to take in the full scale of the attack, but she suspected there were some casualties. Her heart broke at the thought. Innocent wolves, her friends and distant relatives, had been taken unaware by those bloodsuckers.