Each lycan had an individual scent, just as each human did. The difference with lycans was that they had a little something else as well. Nothing that could be summed up in a word—aside from lycan, of course—but the aroma was particular yet varied. Aaron always smelled of spice and clove, like Ana Sofia smelled of hyacinth, and Holden of pine. In the past, Holden had once flatly stated Nathan himself reeked like wet dog. But beneath all of that they each held a scent only a lycan could, and the best Nathan could describe that was a heady mixture of dirt, musty fur, and how the winter sky was just before snow began to fall.
It was that underlying fragrance that he caught in the elevator. And when Nathan stepped out onto what had just an hour previously been Jackson and Eva’s floor, that sense of lycan struck him.
Only this one was fresh.
The hairs on his neck rose. Nathan continued to stroll, but he kept his guard up. While lycan nature made emotional and physical growth slow processes, he hadn’t lived for 200 years just to pick up nothing.
When a door opened Nathan fell into an offensive crouch. But when he looked he met exasperated brown eyes from a girl his own age.
He didn’t recognize her, but she was definitely like him. Her gaze held the gold speckles and her scent, while otherwise like almond butter, was distinctively lycan. She wore sandals, shorts, and a tank top, as well as a dark black backpack that appeared to burst with supplies and smelled like powder.
And she held a baby.
“Don’t be dumb,” she snapped. “C’mere.”
Nathan glared at her.
Anxiety edged into her voice as she said, “Hurry up, ‘fore anybody sees us.”
She stood in a janitor’s closet. How she’d gotten there, Nathan was admittedly curious, but he couldn’t catch a hint of any other lycans. Both reluctant and perplexed, he slipped inside the door and allowed it to close.
Darkness swallowed them but for the sliver of light at their feet, peeping through the bottom of the door like a sly secret. Nathan’s eyes adjusted rapidly to the dark, and he could make out the girl better. She was a couple inches taller than him, with gorgeously dark, smooth skin, and a wave of curly brown hair that erupted behind her head. In her arms she cradled a dozing infant who didn’t look to be more than a few months old. He, too, was lycan, realized Nathan.
“You can kill me, but you won’t win,” said Nathan with bravado. “My brother’s the strongest.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “I know. S’why I’m here.”
He blinked.
“I’m Seritta,” said the young girl, her arms tightening protectively around the baby. The name didn’t ring a bell to Nathan, but hadn’t Rachael mentioned something about a lycan baby from Olivia’s pack? And so had Aaron....
Seritta watched him grimly as the wheels turned in his head with rapid quickening. “This baby, he’s Rudy. An’ we’re gonna join your pack.”
Nathan stared at her.
“Well?” demanded Seritta.
“Uh....”
“I said, we’re gonna join your pack. So let your alpha know.”
Nathan shook his head slowly. “It don’t work like that.”
She scowled at him. “You mean it doesn’t work like that.”
“What are you, my teacher?” he snapped. “Whatever. Look. You’re an enemy, and if you didn’t have the baby, I’d kick your butt out a window. But Aaron’d be mad if I did, so you gotta go.”
Seritta glowered and hissed, “I didn’t run from freakin’ Paradise to Reno, shakin’ off Olivia’s cray-cray pack, stealin’ her nephew to be told no. You will show me to your alpha, and we will join you guys.”
He wanted to argue, but her language intrigued him. “What’s ‘cray-cray’?”
“Crazy,” she explained impatiently. “Where’ve you been? I live on a stupid compound and even I know that one.”
“Aaron doesn’t like slang,” said Nathan. “He don’t let us use it. Says it’s bad grammar.”
Seritta raised an eyebrow. “Yours still sucks.”
Nathan scowled.
“Well, it does,” said Seritta stubbornly. “And anyway, that doesn’t change anythin’. I ain’t leaving until your alpha talks to me.”
His heckles rose, and he shot back, “Ain’t isn’t a word.”
Smugly, she said, “It is now. They put it in the dictionary. 1961, Merriam-Webster.”
Already Nathan hated this girl. He wanted to tell her off and make her get lost.
But if Aaron found out he turned away someone looking for sanctuary, especially from the insane likes of Olivia, he’d flay Nathan alive. Whether verbally or physically didn’t matter; it was not an event Nathan wanted to attempt living through. Plus, in spite of her origins, Nathan couldn’t ignore the deep-set feeling he had that this girl really was desperate.
“How do I know you’re not a spy?” he asked skeptically.
“Cuz a spy wouldn’t tell you Olivia’s on her way,” said Seritta darkly. “And she’ll be here in two hours if you don’t get your butts movin’.”
Nathan groaned. “We can’t. We...” He hesitated. While his instinct said the girl was okay, it wasn’t wise to reveal weaknesses.
Seritta didn’t seem interested in any of that. The baby shifted in her arms and she hurried to hush him. Then she whispered, “Look, whatever your hang-up is, it doesn’t matter. Olivia’s comin’, and y’all gotta get going. But please, take us with you.” When Nathan opened his mouth to protest, she added quickly, “Or at least take Rudy. I got all his stuff in this bag. But you gotta hurry.”
He wasn’t in a position to make decisions for the pack. That was Aaron’s job.
But Aaron wasn’t here, and time was short.
Against his better judgment, Nathan opened the door and pointed her to their room.
Ͼ
Hushed, angry voices broke through Rachael’s fevered haze. She blinked and stared at the confusing scene before her, wondering if it was yet another vivid, crazy dream, or if it was real.
It seemed like a dream. Aaron was growling something she couldn’t make out to Nathan, and the boy argued back fervently. Eva sat at her side, though her attention was understandably on her alpha. She didn’t see Jackson, but Ana Sofia caught her eye.
So did the young girl who cradled a blue bundle.
Ana Sofia climbed onto the bed and rested a surprisingly cool hand on Rachael’s forehead. That couldn’t be right, she thought dazedly. Lycans ran warm.
“Buenas tardes, Hermana,” she murmured.
Rachael had picked up a little Spanish along the way after living with Ana Sofia, but she couldn’t for the life of her recall what that meant. So she just stared exhaustedly at Ana Sofia before a sudden wave of chills shook her body.
Almost immediately the arguing ceased. Rachael caught a glimpse of Nathan’s annoyed expression before Eva shifted. Then Aaron was at her side, and he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. That, too, was cool to the touch—only this time it was like ice on her abruptly frigid skin. She groaned and pulled away, barely noting a flash of hurt in his eyes.
Still, Aaron’s voice was gentle as he said, “Rachael, are you awake?”
She shot him a confused look. “’Course I am,” she muttered.
Patiently, he explained, “You have been drifting in an out for the past few hours, according to Eva. But she says you have never been lucid.”
Rachael heard the words but barely understood them. So she mumbled an incoherent reply and reached for the blankets. To her annoyance, Aaron plucked her hand away and said, “No. You are already running a fever.”
“Cold,” she muttered.
“I know.”
Her annoyance heated to anger, and she found the strength to say, “Don’t be a dick and let me cover up. I’m freezing.” Her harsh words visibly startled the others—but for the strange new girl—and in that moment Rachael was struck with a moment of clarity. Her eyes widened and she looked to her boyfriend’s impassive face in horro
r. “I—I didn’t....”
“I know,” Aaron repeated. “It is a side effect of any serious illness. You will be irritable.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He leaned forward, barely brushing his lips against her head. That he could show her such affection in front of the others brought tears to her already tired eyes. Rachael wanted to snuggle into him, but she could hardly lift her arms.
Her heart ached when he failed to recognize her need, but Aaron’s reassurance touched her. “Rest. We shall move soon. Once we are safe, I will wake you.”
“Promise?”
This time he kissed her on the lips, and even in her state Rachael couldn’t hold back a smile. Aaron murmured affirmation, and the silken smoothness of his voice cradled her eardrums just so. When she drifted toward black unknown once more Rachael still couldn’t say for sure whether what she had experienced had been real. But reality or not, it was one of the more pleasant experiences of her infection, and Rachael hoped to have more of it.
Chapter Six
Lacey refused to speak to him. But that was nothing new, so Holden went on as usual.
From her earlier search, he narrowed down a modest piece of property in the outskirts of Reno. It was close enough to civilization to mask their scent if they were careful, but far enough that they weren’t smack-dab in the middle of the lively city. Holden drove out with Laelia to meet the landlord, an enthusiastic man in his mid-twenties who was eager to show them all the fine points of the property. It had been updated in the past ten years with a new roof, remodeled bathrooms, and a decent kitchen. It was smaller than Holden’s old house, but that was to be expected.
He didn’t care about any of that. All he cared was if it had the space for his small pack—if Lacey chose to stay with them, which he didn’t wholly expect—plus room for potential growth. He also cared if the walls were thick. Happily, they were to his liking.
Holden loathed having to sell their home back in Wells, but they couldn’t afford to buy until the last was out from beneath them, and they needed out immediately. So he signed the lease that day, claiming he’d have four roommates by the end of the month.
Just in case, of course.
Now that he didn’t require Lacey’s approval, Holden intended to expand at his own pace. While they were there, much to his immense gratitude, Laelia provided the down payment from her surprisingly abundant account.
Holden asked her about it on their drive back, and Laelia said simply, “I didn’t go to college and I didn’t really do drugs. Maybe a line of coke now and then at a party, but I was always there to meet men, not get high.”
In spite of the somewhat bleak circumstances, Holden approved.
Laelia glanced at him sideways. “How did you buy that house, anyway?”
“The one we have now?” She nodded, and Holden frowned slightly. “Between me and Lacey, we drained a lot of our finances. I managed to snag some extra cash, but I was found out pretty quick and the accounts I knew were cleaned out and shut down.”
“Whose?”
“Aaron’s.”
“Oh-h-h.”
Holden smirked.
Once they arrived back in Wells, they started to pack. A lot of Nadine’s leftover belongings were practical: pots, pans, plates, and silverware. They made sure to set all those aside.
Lacey remained locked in her room, so Holden wasn’t certain what she was doing. He behaved as though she wasn’t coming. It stung. A lot, in fact. But now was not the time for indecision.
Laelia was positively giddy as she worked, humming and dancing about. Not much was hers, but she dutifully placed Nadine and Holden’s things away with care.
She touched nothing of Lacey or Sage’s. That was probably for the best.
Late into the evening, since the kitchen was pretty much stored in labeled boxes in the corner of the living room, Holden sent Laelia out to grab fast food. He wasn’t eager for it, and quite honestly hated to waste the time on so many empty calories, but every now and then it had its perks.
Lacey eventually emerged shortly after Laelia returned. She eyed the paper bags on the coffee table, and then turned to Holden, completely ignoring Laelia.
“When are you leaving,” she asked flatly.
Holden shrugged, his mouth too full of deep-fried onion ring to answer right away. After he swallowed he said, “Sometime tomorrow. Depends how much we get done.”
“Huh.” She leaned down and picked up a small chicken burger, deftly avoiding Laelia’s scowl as she took a bite.
“Are you coming with us?” asked Holden.
Lacey shrugged.
Irritation rose, but Holden swallowed it along with his next bite. “Well, your call,” he said cavalierly. “Be ready when we are. Or don’t. But we leave when we leave.”
“Can’t wait,” she muttered.
Laelia made a small, kittenish sound and scooted closer to Holden on the floor. He glanced at her, but kept his focus on his girlfriend—or former girlfriend, he supposed. Revoking her Primary status had probably lost him all significant other benefits as well, especially if she wanted to stay behind.
To his surprise, Lacey said, “Holden, answer me one thing. And be honest.”
He tilted his head and met her gaze. Her eyes were darker than usual, the golden-brown almost dirt-colored. “Shoot.”
“How many times did you fuck Laelia behind my back?”
Beside him, Laelia grinned. Holden sighed and said, “Once.”
Lacey narrowed her eyes.
“Once,” he repeated firmly. “A couple days ago, right before I went to pay Aaron a visit.”
Lacey sneered. “Congratulations. She’ll do wonders as a new Primary.”
“Thank you,” purred Laelia.
Holden scowled and jerked away from his redheaded beta. “Did either of you even listen to me yesterday? I said there is no Primary. None. And there never will be again, at this rate.”
Dejection flooded Laelia’s eyes, but Lacey was unmoved. “Sure, until Rachael comes crawling back to you. Which she will, if she survives.” She snorted. “Can you even imagine her as a lycan? I can’t. She’ll be begging for your help. Give her two days with that wretched daddy alpha once she’s recovered. I guarantee she’ll find you within an hour of that.”
Torn between anger at Lacey and wonder at the idea, Holden didn’t have an immediate reply. The uncomfortable silence stretched on, punctuated by the obnoxiously loud ticking clock from the kitchen. When had that become so annoying, anyway?
Just as Lacey rolled her eyes and started to leave, knocking reverberated from the front door.
All three froze. For a moment Holden felt them connect in mutual suspicion. Both girls even looked to him, and for the first time in weeks he had a taste of being an actual alpha again. Holden climbed to his feet and waved for them to stay as he approached the front of the house.
Even before he opened it, he smelled lycans—familiar ones. Tensed for a fight, Holden opened the door.
Three of Olivia’s pack stood on his porch. A somewhat younger woman led the front. She stared at him in trepidation, and almost instantly Holden sensed they weren’t here for battle. Even if they were, their approach was atrocious.
“Hello,” he said too-pleasantly. “Please don’t tell me you’re here to kill me. We might be fewer now, but we take no hostages.”
“Not anymore,” he distinctly heard Lacey mutter from the living room.
The woman at the forefront of her packmates turned questioning eyebrows inside the house. The man behind her nudged her back, and she started.
Unceremoniously, she blurted, “We want to defect to your pack!”
The young man sighed. “Way to make it sound pathetic, Carly.”
“I—” Carly blushed, but forced her back rigid and said, “Please, Holden, sir, permission to speak?”
“I told you, you should have done it,” muttered the other woman.
“Shut up,” snapped the man.
Holden grimaced. While intrigued, he hoped they weren’t serious. “Sorry. No spies.”
But before he could slam the door in their faces, Carly lunged forward. She was a bit hefty for her size, and surprisingly strong, even for a lycan. She stopped the door with her hands and foot, bright blue eyes flashing in determination. Holden felt eerie looking at her; long, strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, fair complexion... but for her weight, she was almost a spitting image of Vera.
“Please,” begged Carly. “Just hear us out. If you still don’t want us after that, we’ll go quietly.”
Holden sized them up. He remembered these lycans. He’d known them reasonably well in the couple months he and his pack had spent on Olivia’s compound back when they needed food and shelter—supposedly, anyway. At the time it had just been him, Lacey, and Sage. Olivia had taken pity on them and, ignoring her brother’s warnings, had invited them in.
They had come to scout out the local pack, but had ended up stealing Nadine.
“I remember you,” he said quietly. “Carly, Owen, and Maryanne. Right?”
Carly nodded eagerly.
In the house, Lacey said coldly, “Don’t, Holden. You finally have a pair of balls. Don’t give them up now.”
“Shut the fuck up, Lacey,” he snapped. Her face colored beneath her makeup.
The young man—Owen—raised his dark eyebrows. “You talk to your Primary like that?”
“She’s not Primary,” stated Holden. “Not anymore. I abolished the position, and the need for it. There is no sexual hierarchy.”
Owen heaved an enormous sigh. “Thank God. I was worried I’d have to fuck you, but—no offense man—you’re not my type.”
Holden grinned. Then, turning a deaf ear to Lacey’s indignant squawk, he opened the door wider and said, “Come on in. We’re actually packing up, so we don’t have much seating room, but we have French fries.”
Owen wrinkled his nose, but the girls looked relieved. They thanked him as they entered, with Maryanne nodding politely before finding a seat beside Laelia. Owen dragged a white cooler behind him that smelled a little odd, with a faint whiff of old flesh. Holden was curious, but not enough to ask—yet. He closed the door behind them and turned to Lacey with a shrug.
Pact of the Pack Page 6
