by R. J. Blain
“He’s not a puppy,” Julie said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He has his adult coat.”
Sanders laughed. “Everyone is a puppy to Desmond except his mate, Julie. He slipped and called Wendy a puppy once. She didn’t let him back in their den for over a week.”
“I don’t like it. Don’t call him a puppy.”
Everyone laughed, but it was Elliot who approached the woman and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Let it go, Miss Montgomery. Desmond—”
Baring her teeth, Julie lashed her arm at Elliot. The acrid bite of fury hung in the air. Before I could do more than tense, Desmond let go of his daughter, took several steps, and whipped his arm out, catching Julie across the chest. He flipped her to the floor so hard I felt the thump through the couch. “You forget your place. Be respectful in the presence of the Shadow Pope.”
I filed the title away as something to ask someone about later.
Before Julie could get up, Desmond was on her, flipping her to her stomach before he braced a knee against her back, pinning her to the hardwood, one hand on the back of her neck. “What do you want me to do with her, sir?”
I flattened my ears and bared my fangs, but I didn’t growl or snarl. Calculating the distance between me and Desmond, I tensed to lunge off the couch. Sanders’s grip on my neck tightened. “Desmond.”
“What?”
“Hunting wolves make no noise.”
Desmond adjusted his hold on Julie so he could turn to face Sanders. The man’s dark eyes focused on me, and gold gleamed around his pupils. My wolf snarled in my head and wanted me to lunge across the room in defense of the bitch, but I remained quiet, waiting.
“Is he fighting you?”
“No. That said, if you hurt her, I’m letting go of his scruff.”
Snorting, Desmond shook his head. “Elliot?”
Elliot’s mouth twitched, he sighed, and stared up at the ceiling. “For fuck’s sake. Fine. Sanders, are you going to get in a pissing contest with Desmond if he has a small pack to make him happy?”
Slumping back against the couch, Sanders closed his eyes and dug his fingers into my fur. “I’m too tired for this. Why are you asking me, Elliot? Shouldn’t you be asking your Alpha?”
“He’s a dog right now.” Richard growled, and Elliot turned and kicked the wolf’s ribs. “Well, you are.”
“Elliot,” Nicole warned.
The man sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “Last thing I need is to get mauled by a bitch that isn’t my mate. I have a hard enough time keeping Vicky in line. It’s like she lives to test my patience.”
“We all do,” Dante said, clapping his brother’s shoulder. “You made a mistake. You let Desmond figure out you have a sense of humor.”
“I’ve always had a sense of humor.”
“It’s true, he has.” Desmond snickered, shaking his head. “I’ll ask really nicely. Can I please have Declan? He puts up such a good fight. He doesn’t back down. He’s not afraid to look me in the eyes. He’s smart, he’s friendly, and he’s damned good at his job. Best of all, he’s pink, and he glows.”
Had Desmond hit his head without me being aware of it? I watched the man for signs of a concussion, although he seemed stable on his feet, his eyes clear, and his mouth curved in a wide grin.
Elliot groaned. “What is it with your family and the color pink?”
“Richard started it. Richard and his pink Porsche, which he used to steal my daughter. His tie matched his car, too. It takes a real man to wear that shade of pink so well. Pink is the color of confidence and true masculinity.”
I stared longingly at the door. Over the years, I had lived in fear of other werewolves. My gut instinct had been correct.
Werewolves were psychotic lunatics.
Sanders snorted. “I thought it was his baking skills that got under your skin, girl. A family-wide fetish with the color pink explains everything.”
“He pissed me off the instant I saw him. Had to either kill him or keep him. Since he insisted on surviving my attempts to kill him, I kept him.”
Julie drummed her fingers on the hardwood. “Could you let me up?”
Elliot narrowed his eyes as he considered her. “No, Miss Montgomery. I’m thinking about whether or not I’m going to allow Desmond to subjugate you.”
“What?” the woman shrieked, struggling beneath Desmond. “You’re not serious!”
“Oh, I’m serious.” Elliot pointed at me. “Rogue unmated male wolf.” He turned his finger to Julie. “Unmated bitch, part of a small to moderate sized pack with an absolutely terrible puppy survival rate.” When Elliot gestured to Desmond, the werewolf growled. “Mated male with a young puppy, no pack except his mate, and lives next door to an Omega mated to an Alpha male with a stellar puppy survival rate.”
Richard snapped his teeth.
Elliot didn’t look very impressed or threatened by the massive wolf. “Pack balance, Richard. Yellowknife and Seattle are balanced. You have me and Dante, our mates, and some of the best wolves on the continent. I can’t let you have another exotic.”
Scowling, Nicole crossed her arms over her chest. “Just who are you calling an exotic?”
“You.”
When Nicole lunged for Elliot’s throat, Dante caught her by her waist and held her under his arm. She spat curses, clawing for the man who had stirred her wrath.
I whimpered and covered my eyes with my paws, although I peeked to keep an eye on the other werewolves.
Amber sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please don’t make me have to start shooting. I don’t have unlimited ammo today. Just accept it, Nicole. It’s true. Yellowknife is a freak pack full of exotics. First, there is Richard, who needs the world’s sexiest witch to keep him under control. It doesn’t hurt he’s a strong earth witch, either.”
Grinning, Dante dipped into a bow. “Why thank you, Amber.”
“His equally sexy witch twin is mated to an out-of-control witch who also happens to be a wolf. In case you’ve forgotten, he’s the one who authorizes our paychecks.”
Elliot smirked. “Amber thinks we’re sexy, Dante.”
“It’s because we know how to handle firearms. Actually, I think it’s more to do with the fact we encourage her take us to the firing range to abuse us whenever she wants. It has absolutely nothing to do with our looks. In your case, you pay her to like you,” Dante replied.
“Shut up,” Amber ordered. The twins obeyed, although they grinned at each other. “As I was saying. Yellowknife is strong enough. Sanders, your pack is good, and since you have an Omega who can single-handedly set Desmond on his ass whenever she feels like it, you’re not doing too bad in the exotic department, either.”
Sanders laughed. “I don’t suppose I can hire you to be my bodyguard, can I? You’re about the only living thing who might be able to convince Sara not to kill me when I get home.”
“You’re on your own there, Sanders. If you convince Elliot to give Declan and the bitch to Desmond to form a pack, he’ll probably stop making so many forays onto your property to annoy you.”
“I really don’t care, Amber. I don’t have a horse in this race. I’m not getting in the way of a starry-eyed Desmond. I’m crazy, but I’m not that crazy. That said, I do want to know why he’s so set on having Declan. I’ve never seen him so riled up since he was determined to adopt Richard and Alex. I mean, I can understand Julie. She’s way too good for that pack she’s in.”
“Hey!” Julie squirmed beneath Desmond. “That’s my pack you’re talking about.”
“Your Alpha is incompetent. Just accept it, Julie. If it weren’t for the rules, I’d be making a road trip to drown his worthless ass.” Sanders growled, drew a deep breath, and forced himself to relax.
I trembled at the rage in the werewolf’s scent.
“Sorry, Declan. Julie’s Alpha keeps trying to get his bitches to mate and he’s too damned prideful to ask for help. Julie’s the only unmated bitch in his pack, and next moo
n is the start of the winter rut. Without fail, his bitches transform during their pregnancies. The puppies die. I’ve wanted to kill him for years. Damn it, Elliot. He has fifteen bitches, and he convinces them to try to mate every year. It’s wrong.”
The room fell silent.
“And that’s why I may permit Desmond to subjugate her. You know I try to work with the packs to ensure as many puppies survive as possible. You know I make every arrangement I can, including temporary pack transfers, to give bitches the best chance to keep their puppies alive. You know I have purposefully thrown Yellowknife and Seattle together to help share the load. It’s the entire reason we have a Fenerec like Desmond on call.” Elliot paced, spat a few curses, and kicked the wall. “I can’t just put out a kill order for no damned reason. Without proof, I can’t do anything.”
Sanders sighed. “It’s not your fault, Anderson.”
“Like fucking hell it isn’t my fault! It’s my job.”
“Not to interrupt or anything, but…” Lane leaned against the kitchen counter. “What, exactly, do you mean by subjugate?”
“Right. Normals.” Elliot turned, leaned against the wall, and slid to the floor. “Nicole, your punishment for initiating a pair of Normals without permission is to be your father’s gopher for a month.”
Nicole screamed a wordless cry of frustration and stomped her foot. “You wouldn’t.”
Desmond made a sound similar to a cat’s purr. “You shouldn’t have done that, daughter. I find it a very suitable punishment. Your mother is going to be so happy with me. Where you go, our son follows, and I get you both for a month. This is better than Christmas.”
“Lane, subjugation is the process of transferring a Fenerec from one pack to another,” Sanders explained. “In Declan’s case, we’ll have to do a full dominance contest, so it’ll be a bit rough, but Julie won’t give Desmond a problem. Will you, Julie?”
“Damn it,” Julie pounded her fist against the floor.
“I’m not sure I understand,” the SEAL admitted.
“All right, Desmond. I’ll give you Declan and permit you to form a sanctioned pack within Seattle’s territory, but under one condition.”
Desmond tensed. “What condition?”
“Answer a question for me. Where the hell did you find a glowing pink Fenerec?”
Chapter Twenty-One
I contemplated making a run for it, but Sanders kept a firm hold on my scruff, warning me I’d have to fight my way to freedom. Instead of running like I wanted, I waited, watched, and sighed my longing.
“Why don’t you shift back to human?” Sanders suggested. “Go to wherever you stashed your clothes, get changed, and talk to us. We won’t bite. Well, I make no promises about Desmond, but I won’t bite. I won’t make promises about Richard, either. I definitely won’t make promises about the ladies, especially Julie.”
The only one to react to Sanders’s suggestion was Dante, and he stared at me, arching his brow in questioning. Did it have to do with the fact my clothes shifted with me?
Probably. Richard and Dante had removed their clothing before they had shifted.
“You just want him to explain how he got pink fur,” Desmond accused.
“Maybe. He’s softer than Richard.” Sanders’s statement drew everyone’s attention.
Nicolina straightened, scowling at me before turning her glare on her husband. “Impossible. First, he bakes the absolute best brownies I have ever tasted in my life. Don’t get me started on the cookies. Now his fur is softer?”
While I would have stayed safely hidden in the kitchen like a sane man, Anthony gave the group a wide berth, came to the couch, sat, and stared at me. I knew that look, and I turned my ears back.
That look landed me in trouble far too often. Anthony’s sense of curiosity always got me into trouble. Sometimes when I was working a job, he’d notice a door somewhere and suggest I check it out. Those doors always led to interesting places for me to explore—or find even more interesting things within.
Without fail, those interesting things would find their way into my pockets, and a simple job became a complex job, and Anthony ended up having a lot more fun than me. It was a little how I had managed to get a golden Egyptian wrist cuff stuck to me.
I still needed to figure out how to get it off. The wretched thing was still wrapped around my foreleg, although my fur did a reasonable job of hiding it. The werewolves were more interested in the fact I was pink and glowed than they were about my odd choice of jewelry.
Anthony reached over and touched his finger to the tip of my nose.
While I expected Sanders to maintain his death grip on my scruff, he released me. Given the choice of Anthony, Sanders, or Desmond and the other werewolves, I lunged across the couch and took over Anthony’s lap, baring my teeth at the werewolf male.
“Some Fenerec hate attention. Actually, most of us hate being petted or otherwise treated as a house pet. Richard loves attention. Desmond does, too, when he thinks he can get away with it. Dignity is important to Desmond despite him rarely having any. He’s happiest when someone is showing him affection. Don’t tell anyone that since he’s supposed to be an enforcer. Nicolina adores attention from the Anderson twins, Richard, and her close family and merely tolerates it from anyone else. I don’t care either way. I suggest you ask before you touch.” Sanders grinned, propped his feet up on the coffee table, and stretched out. “As a general rule, Alpha males will tolerate a lot from their pack; we’re attention whores.”
Anthony held his hands up. “Okay. What does that mean for me? Is he supposed to be this heavy?”
“What do you think he weighs in at, Sanders?” Elliot asked.
“One fifty? Maybe two hundred? Actually, I might say lower. He’s pretty scrawny under that fur.” Sanders shrugged. “If he gets too heavy, Anthony, I’ll remove him. You’re not going to lose a hand if you pet him, so relax. If he didn’t want you touching him, he wouldn’t be on your lap.”
I barked once, a warning call, and Sanders laughed. “I’m not going to do anything to your Normal, Declan. Relax already. Anyway, you don’t have anything to worry about right now, Anthony. How long have you two been friends?
“A while. Six or seven years.” Anthony sighed and shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve woken up on the couch with Declan using me as a pillow. He was always human, though. I had no idea he…”
Desmond chuckled. “He can become a wolf? We try to avoid letting Normals know we actually exist. Were the times he used you as a pillow following one of his cooking binges?”
“It was.”
Sanders chuckled. “Doesn’t surprise me. I get the feeling he doesn’t eat nearly enough, so sleeping after a large meal would be the norm. Fenerec feel safer sleeping near someone they trust. It’s an instinct of ours. Good wolves hide their base instincts, but we slip when we feel comfortable and safe—and around people we trust.”
Following Anthony’s lead, Lane circled the island and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “His briefing file mentioned higher than normal metabolic requirements. There were specific instructions for doubled rations plus protein supplements. Medical note seemed to imply a hyper metabolism disorder of some sort.”
Desmond and Sanders exchanged a long, silent look, and both men frowned. When they remained silent, Nicole growled, crossing her arms over her chest. The three finally turned their attention to Elliot, who held his hands up in surrender.
Like them, he remained silent.
As one, all four faced Amber and waited.
The woman sighed. “Why me?”
Elliot snorted. “Because you’re damned good at your job, know Fenerec better than most, and know the requirements of an active duty Fenerec?”
“Now you’re just sweet talking me, Elliot.”
“I could bribe you.”
Ambers eyes widened and sparkled, and she grinned. “You bribe me with guns. Always. You always bribe me with guns.”
“Modified Glock 18. Matched set; one for you, one for Sara. Modified by Glock, specific for you two.” Elliot smirked, leaning towards the woman. “Your choice of color.”
“How modified are we talking?”
“Modified enough.”
“It better be good, Your Eminence. You know I hate initiating Alpha-traited Fenerec. I hate it. They’re always trouble. Nicole gives me enough trouble.”
“Only until he bonds with a sanctioned witch of his own,” Elliot replied. “Glock 18. Modified.”
“Was that English?” Anthony asked. “I’m pretty sure, individually, all of those words were in English, but when you string them together, they make zero sense.”
“Amber?”
“Fine. I’ll do it. First, Declan needs to become a human again.” Amber’s gaze focused on me. “Please don’t make me force you, sir.”
I flattened my ears at the challenge in her voice.
“Richard should go shift, too.” Dante nudged the large wolf with his foot. “In the bathroom, preferably. Nicole, you may want to go with him. It took him a bit longer than I like, although he may have slowed it down so Declan could watch. Richard’s shift alarmed him quite a bit.”
Desmond crossed the room to me, crouching close without being in easy biting range. “I was worried about that. Go in the other room and change, Declan. If you need help with it, give a howl. Where are your clothes? I’ll bring them for you.”
“I’m fairly certain his clothes shifted with him,” Dante said, pointing at me. “He’s wearing an armband of some sort.”
“Egyptian,” Lane supplied. “The real deal, apparently. Yes, that’s his. He said the hinges were damaged or something like that, so he couldn’t get it off.”
Grabbing hold of my paw, Desmond examined the cuff. “And he was wearing it when he shifted?”