by R. J. Blain
“Why are you asking me? Amber?”
“Don’t look at me. I’m not getting between those two.”
Dante sighed. “Nicole?”
With a heavy sigh, Nicole shrugged and held her hands up. “Don’t look at me. If you want me dealing with it, you tell your twin to give Declan to my pack. Let Dad deal with her as he sees fit. I get she’s rutting early and she’s under a lot of stress, but she’s being a bit of a bitch, Dante. Look at him. He’s not comfortable. She’s acting like he’s a piece of meat and it’s time for her to have dinner. She’s behaving like she owns him when she does not.”
“Fucking slut,” Julie snarled, struggling against Sanders’s hold on her. “Who do you think you are?”
I felt my brows rise, and I turned, leaned against the counter, and stared at the woman I had helped rescue from Scallywag’s castle in France. Rage and her wolf’s influence had turned her eyes bright yellow, and her teeth were bared.
Nicole’s expression smoothed to a neutral mask, which worried me far more than Julie’s open anger. The promise of violence hung between the two women with Sanders caught in the line of fire.
Without any guarantees the Fenerec wouldn’t turn on Anthony or Lane, I slid my way across the kitchen until I stood beside the SEAL, watching Sanders struggle to keep Julie pinned to the couch.
I wasn’t sure how Richard did it, but he forced Desmond back to the kitchen. “Let them sort it out.”
Desmond growled but jerked his head in a nod.
“Sanders,” Richard called, and I found it interesting the small man was confident enough to turn his attention away from his father-in-law for even a moment.
Releasing Julie, Sanders stepped out of the way. The instant he lost his hold on her, the woman lunged across the coffee table at Nicole.
“You can’t buy this sort of entertainment,” Lane commented, leaning back to rest his elbows on the counter. “What have you gotten us into, Declan?”
“Why does everyone blame me?” I sighed, hooked a stool with my foot, and dragged it over so I could sit.
I had no idea how Richard’s short wife managed to floor a woman who was far larger than her and itching for a fight, but Julie fell with a thump. In the time it took me to suck in a surprised breath, Nicole was on top of her opponent. The crack of a slap cut over the sounds of the two women snarling at each other.
Maybe Julie was far larger than Nicole, but Nicole wanted to win far more and knew no boundaries. Anything within the woman’s reach was a fair target. When slapping didn’t subdue her opponent, Nicole clawed, punched, kneed, and bit without any mercy.
A slash of her nails down Julie’s face secured Nicole’s victory, followed by an application of teeth on the woman’s throat. Nicole flexed her hands, growling until Julie went limp beneath her.
“Remind me never to say anything about fighting like a girl ever again,” Lane whispered to me.
“You can go back to baking, Declan,” Richard said, gesturing to where I had been measuring out ingredients. “Nicole can handle things from here.”
“I’m also armed,” Lane said, patting his holster.
While I had my doubts, I returned to my cookies, keeping an eye on the two women lying on the floor warily. Neither spoke in words, but when Nicole finally let Julie up from the floor, the pair headed for the door.
“Richard?”
I had forgotten about Patricia’s presence, and I flinched at sound of the woman’s voice.
Richard shook his head. “Keep her from killing Julie, please. That said, don’t interfere unless you must. It’s better if Nicole puts Julie in her place. If Dad has to do it, it’ll get ugly.”
“You’ll be okay?”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Richard replied, “I’ll be fine. Amber, keep an eye on Nicole, would you?”
Patricia and Amber grumbled but followed after the snarling Fenerec females. When they were gone, I sighed my relief.
The cookies were so terrible I refused to inflict them on anyone else. Unable to accept defeat, I choked them down and growled at anyone who tried to steal one from the tray.
“He fucked them up,” Anthony declared after I had worked my way halfway through the batch.
“Shut up, Tony,” I grumbled.
“He never allows anyone to eat his failures, and he refuses to waste ingredients.”
I slumped over the counter, hung my head, and groaned. “Why are you doing this, Anthony?”
“I’m just helping them understand your special brand of psychosis, Declan.”
“Why don’t you explain the deal with Julie?” Desmond asked, relaxing on the couch.
“I already told you. He’s not comfortable around women. He doesn’t like when they crowd him, and he appreciates his personal space. He values his privacy, and he doesn’t enjoy when people get too close without his invitation.” Anthony hopped off his stool, slid along the counter until he was within reach of the ruined cookies, looked me in the eyes, and took one. “I don’t like that broad, either. She’s too pushy.”
“You’re going to lose your taste buds if you eat that. It’s that bad.”
The way Anthony smiled warned me my friend had no intention of listening to me, which he confirmed several moments later by taking a chomp out of the cookie. “You should use these as weapons, Declan. Did I just break a tooth?”
While the programmer complained, the cookie disappeared with several loud crunches, and I twitched at every sound. “Yet you ate it anyway.”
“I’ll eat more unless you throw them out—or crush them and turn them into pie crust.”
I blinked, stared at the cookie tray, eyeballed the remaining ingredients, and dumped the remaining cookies onto the cutting board so I could go to work crushing them. “Sugar or apple?”
“Apple.” Anthony thumped my shoulder and headed for the couch. “Managing Declan is very simple, gentlemen. Respect his space, give him an outlet for his anxiety, and let him bake in peace. You’ll want to keep that broad away from him, though, or we’re going to have to find another market to get sufficient ingredients—and run the risk of adding a lot of extra pounds when he feeds us. I’d be particularly wary if the broad goes after someone he likes when he’s armed. Declan doesn’t like shooting people, but if someone threatens someone he likes, shots will be fired, and he prefers to maim rather than kill.”
I grimaced at the reminder Anthony had seen me do just that not long after I had recruited him.
In reality, I didn’t just fire for people I liked. I had no idea who the woman had been, but she hadn’t done anything to deserve being attacked. I’d been working a dangerous enough heist I’d gone in armed. Her would-be rapist lost a kneecap and an elbow before I’d been done with him. Calling the cops to report the shooting—and save the man from bleeding to death on the street—had caused me a lot of trouble, although I had managed to drop off the radar.
To hide the evidence, I melted down a perfectly good gun and buried it deep in the woods.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Listen up, pup. If she—or any other Fenerec—makes a run at Lane or Anthony, go for the kill and aim for between the eyes or for the temple. We have rules on how we interact with Normals. Our job is to protect them first and foremost. I’d rather not lose a bitch, but if you have to choose, you choose Lane and Anthony. She should know better than to even think about making a run at anyone.”
I froze in mid preparations, staring at Desmond out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t find that at all comforting.”
“Good. That means you’re smart. We’ll do our best to straighten her out. For now, just stick with me, Richard, or Sanders; we’re more than capable of keeping Julie under control. I’ll make arrangements to help introduce you to the rut—and potential suitors—once we’re back in the United States. Your terms.” Desmond turned his attention to Elliot. “Right, Your Eminence?”
“He’s your responsibility. You did a fine job with Sanders and Sara, so I trust you can ha
ndle any potential courtships with Declan. Dante, it might be ideal if you get him set up with a cabin in both the US and Canada. That’ll let him go back and forth between Yellowknife and Seattle easily. I think there’s a lot near Desmond’s place up for sale. You arrange for the cabin, I’ll deal with the land. Deal?”
“Consider it done.”
“Two cabins are a bit excessive, don’t you think? One’s enough.” I forced my attention back to baking, doubted the crushed cookies would make for edible crust, but at least a terrible pie went down a bit easier than rock-hard cookies.
“We’ll discuss it when we return to the United States,” Elliot promised in a tone warning me there’d be no discussing it at all. “Our first order of business is to get situated and get out of here as soon as everyone’s rested enough for the trip.”
I handled it the same way I did whenever I got an order I didn’t like. I sighed and replied, “Yes, sir.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
If we had been wise, we would have left the cabins within minutes of bringing Richard, Sanders, and the ladies out from the hot zone. I would also never make the mistake of underestimating how persistent a group capable of tracking werewolves could be.
Gunfire echoed over the mountains, and the rumble underfoot warned me the noise had triggered an avalanche somewhere. Desmond, Richard, and Sanders bolted out the door, and they took weapons from the stash with them, leaving me with Anthony and Lane.
“Guard him,” I ordered the SEAL, and with a slow, purposeful stride, I retrieved my sniper rifle, checked it over, and grabbed its ammunition box. On second thought, I grabbed a pair of binoculars, ones with night vision should I need them.
Unlike the others, I needed time to get into place with a good view and a few minutes to set up shop, but no one would be getting close to the cabins without my consent. With my weapon ready, I grabbed someone’s jacket, slipped outside, circled the large cabin, and headed for the cliffs. Unless a rockfall had changed things, I’d find a goat track up the side to an outcropping, a spot offering unparalleled visibility over the cabins and all ways to them.
Unless someone came down the cliff from above, happened to be at just the right angle, and knew exactly where to stand, no one would spot me on my perch. I used the jacket to obscure my path, checked its pockets for anything of value, and when I found nothing, I slung it over my shoulder to serve as a blanket once I was in position.
It took me longer than I liked to work my way up the cliff, pressing as close to the rock as possible so I wouldn’t ruin my day with a long and potentially fatal fall to the ground far below. The ledge offered enough room for me to stretch out, and I used the jacket to keep the worst of the ice and snow off me while I set up my sniper rifle.
It didn’t take me long to get the gun into position, the scope set up, and begin my job of monitoring the cabins. I’d measured the distance as a hair over a thousand meters between my ledge and the yard, which would make for a long shot I couldn’t afford to miss.
My wolf quieted in my head, and I recognized his behavior as him settling in for the hunt. My preference limited my targets to knees and elbows as often as possible. If I gave him his way, I’d make a head shot every time, something I’d regret later.
If anyone went after Anthony or Lane, I’d be forced to squeeze the trigger, and when I did, my victim wouldn’t be getting back up again. A chill far more intense than the mountain air sank into my bones. Clenching my teeth, I checked my gun one more time and locked my attention on my cabin.
Ideally, my two friends would stay inside where it was safe, leaving the werewolves to prowl the grounds in search of the source of gunfire. I worried it came from the top of the mountain where the old couple lived far from prying eyes. A road weaved up the mountain directly to their home, something that set the cabins apart from everywhere else in the area.
Only those who were invited knew how to access the cliffside trail large enough for a single vehicle with little room to spare.
The werewolves, Amber, and the Anderson twins scattered, heading up the mountain. A quick head count reassured me all of them meant to go, leaving Lane behind to protect Anthony. I relaxed.
Then I tensed when one of the women veered off from the hunting pack, backtracked, and slinked behind a tree, waiting for the others to continue without her. My anxiety strengthened. I could only think of one woman who’d have any reason to return to the undefended cabins.
Julie.
I grabbed the binoculars and checked to confirm my suspicions. The woman scowled, peeking from behind the tree to confirm no one had noticed she’d fallen behind.
What was she after? Why?
My wolf had an idea on what she wanted: me. Unfortunately, to get me, she’d have to get around Anthony, who already disliked her for being so pushy. I knew myself well enough to understand what my wolf’s base instinct was to do with a problem.
It’d end in bloodshed, be it hers, Lane’s, or Anthony’s. If things went south, all of them would be hurt or killed. It didn’t take me long to come to the conclusion I didn’t give a shit what happened to Julie.
I couldn’t allow anything to happen to Lane, who’d been saddled with me because of my mistake, and Anthony, who had been by my side for so many years, tolerating me and my wolf better than anyone else. I set aside the binoculars and tracked Julie’s movement with the scope of my sniper rifle.
She headed for the cabin, and the glint of metal at her hip warned me she was armed. Step by step, she drew closer to the two people I needed to protect. I hoped she’d return to Desmond’s cabin and hide, but she angled towards mine without a single sign of hesitation.
Lane noticed her coming long before she reached the door, and he stood on the front step, his hand on his Beretta. Behind him, Anthony hovered.
Neither man looked happy to see her. I couldn’t tell what they were saying, but Lane’s expression darkened, and he shook his head. I guessed she was asking about me, probably hoping to pursue her plans to nip at my neck so she could attempt to mate.
My wolf growled in my head, and I aimed for her head. With less than ten feet between her and Lane, if she moved, I’d have only one good shot.
“Walk away,” I begged in a whisper despite knowing she couldn’t hear me.
I didn’t want to hurt her.
She took a step forward, and her expression twisted. She said something, and her entire body tensed. Lane snapped something back, and he secured his grip on his gun.
They both moved at the same time, but I was faster. I locked my target, and with my wolf’s insistent howls ringing in my head, I firmed my grip on the rifle and pulled the trigger. Like when I shifted, time slowed. Even as I squeezed, I made adjustments to my aim, the way I rested on the rock, and even how I glared through the scope at Julie’s hair-covered temple.
If I had had a better chance to prepare, I would have used a suppressor on the rifle. The weapon discharged with a deafening bang. The muzzle flash and haze of heat stung my eyes along with the cold wind and hint of gunpowder.
It felt like an eternity before the bullet blasted free of the barrel towards its mark. The seconds stretched into one another, and one thought alone ran through my head: don’t miss, don’t miss, don’t miss.
If I missed, I ran a high chance of hitting Lane or Anthony—or of Julie hurting one of them before I had a chance to get a second shot off.
The woman never reached either man, and she crumpled to the ground. I closed my eyes, so I wouldn’t have to watch the rest.
A second gunshot rang out, close enough to leave me no doubt the SEAL confirmed my kill the safest way possible. My wolf fell into shocked silence.
After finally meeting an unmated female of our kind, to protect others, I had killed her.
Snow fell and covered me and my rifle, but I remained on my ledge, staring in a numb daze at the cabins far below. More gunfire echoed over the mountain. I should have moved. I should have done something other than stare without reall
y seeing anything at all.
The sun set, and it wasn’t until it rose that the others returned. A quick check through my scope revealed one of the Anderson twins was limping although I couldn’t tell which one and couldn’t force myself to check for which one was taller.
Lane had left Julie’s body where it had fallen, and while the snow blanketed her, there was no mistaking the shape of a corpse. The SEAL stepped out of the cabin with Anthony following behind them.
My wolf wanted me to slink down from my ledge and rejoin the pack below, convinced we had done nothing wrong by obeying Desmond’s orders.
I had killed before, but not like I’d killed her. I had put my hand to my rifle understanding I would end her life if she went after Lane or Anthony. It hadn’t been in the heat of battle.
Her death came with intent. I had had time to think it through.
I had still pulled the trigger.
The snow kept falling, and I ignored its chill, waiting for the other werewolves and their human friends to leave. When the did, shortly before sunset, they took Anthony and Lane with them.
While I hadn’t trusted Julie, I believed Desmond would remain true to his word. The SEAL and my friend would be safe enough with him. I waited for the lights of both SUVs to fade away and darkness to smother the land before I rose from my spot, gathered my sniper rifle, and shifted.
With my fur illuminating my path, I picked my way down from the ledge.
I found where they had buried Julie’s body behind the cabins, and as hers was a shallow grave, I took the time to gather rocks, building a cairn so she wouldn’t be disturbed. The scent of the other werewolves lingered, but instead of the grief I expected, the bite of anger stung my nose. Anger at who?
Julie for going after Lane and Anthony, or me for defending them as was my duty? I doubted I’d ever know.
It’d be better for everyone if I disappeared without a trace. Deep in the Swiss Alps, I could remain as a wolf without anyone being the wiser for my presence. I could head north and east. With so much land in Poland or Russia, and so few people, I could disappear. Siberia might work, too.