The Azar Omnibus: The Complete Azar Trilogy (The Azar Trilogy Book 0)

by Grace McGinty

  “What is it, Lassie? Did little Timmy fall down the well again?” Donovan said sardonically, and Azar laughed. Donovan had a dry sense of humor that was so sharp, it wouldn’t surprise her if it could make someone bleed. But not Oliver. Shit like that just rolled right off his beautiful, soft coat.

  And it was soft. She liked patting him in jaguar form, so what? It wasn’t like she was cheating.

  He let out another low snarl, and Donovan sighed. “We better follow him before he comes up here and chews off my arm.”

  She grinned and followed him down the porch steps. They reached Oliver, and he nudged her towards the woods with his head on her ass. Again.

  Azar was beginning to think perhaps he just wanted to touch her butt. “Watch it, Fluffball,” she mock-growled, which just made him let out a series of soft chuffs. He was laughing at her, the big jerk.

  They walked a little further and came to a creek, which was quite full for the time of the year. Several big flat rocks sat on the banks. Oliver jumped up on the largest rock and changed from jaguar to sexy ass human. His tanned skin seemed to shine even in the fading light, and his California beach boy looks made heat pool in her belly. As always, he was naked. He spent more time naked than clothed, and she’d like to say that she was becoming immune to his nudity, but that would be a blatant lie. Every single time he bared any flesh in her presence, her eyes ate up his exposed skin like she was starving. Seeing him naked was a feast, from his broad, muscular shoulders to the lines and ridges that led downward to the dick he never even bothered to cover. And every single time he busted her, and gave her that devilish half-grin that told her he knew exactly the effect he had on her.

  The waterhole was small, but from what she could see, it was quite deep. The water swirled lazily, enough to keep it fresh but not enough that you had to fight with any kind of current. As if to prove its depth, Oliver cannonballed from the rock into the water, splashing water over to where she and Donovan were standing on its banks.

  Donovan growled, and Azar let out a squeak of protest. But the water was cool on her skin, and was just too enticing. She peeled off her shirt and her cutoffs, and stepped toward the water.

  She could feel Oliver’s eyes perusing her body with the same languid intensity he did everything else. It was only fair, she’d just done the exact same thing to him. What surprised her though was the feel of Donovan’s heavy gaze at her back. She looked over her shoulder, and caught him staring at her ass. He pulled them upwards and met her eyes, and she sucked in a breath at the heat that made his lids heavy. She quickly jumped in the water, hoping it would cool the sudden rise in her temperature.

  Oliver grinned as he swam closer. He looked less jaguar and more barracuda in that moment. His eyes were filled with lust, and she held her breath as he got close. He lifted his hand towards her face, and she held her breath.

  Then he dropped it to the water and splashed her.

  She sputtered as he laughed.

  “Asshole,” she laughed, winding back her arm and spearing it through the water.

  Donovan slid into the water, and stood beside her, a small smile on his lips but his eyes still held a touch of the desire that had threatened to scorch her before. His body out of his normal black clothing was amazing, like an intricate artwork stretched over a seriously hot body. Swirling black tattoos dipped and moved over his abdominals, and she could probably spend hours just exploring all of his ink. If she could spend hours with him completely undressed. Which you can’t, she scolded herself.

  The sun was almost fully set now, and the insects made a deafening symphony as the three of them swam lazily around the small pool.

  Oliver looked at Donovan. “D, I’ve been wondering.”

  Donovan rolled his eyes. “That’s never a good thing.”

  Oliver splashed him, but was undeterred. “How do Shaitan get laid without, you know, scaring their potential mates to death?”

  Azar swam over and punched him. “Seriously, Oliver? You can’t ask that.” But deep down, she was dying to know too.

  Donovan raised an eyebrow. “I thought you would be the last person I’d have to give the birds and the bees talk to, Oliver. And don’t call me D,” he grumped.

  “I definitely know the physical logistics,” Oliver purred, and his voice when it was pitched all low and growly made goosebumps rise across her skin. “What I want to know is how. Until Freya, we had no idea that the Shaitan could even channel positive emotions. Did you have to do it with the BDSM bunnies?”

  Donovan let out a long sigh. Azar could have told him Oliver wouldn’t drop his train of thought. “We usually do it in pairs, with someone else. Or in a group. If the fear is dissipated between several people, it becomes less of a terror and more of a thrill, especially if we are keeping it reigned in.” His jaw tensed. “That is, if you want your partner to enjoy it. There are others of my race who do not need such willing participants.” Sometimes, the Shaitan deserved their reputation. Azar’s stomach rolled in disgust. “Unwilling sexual partners has never been my preference, however.”

  He was closer to her now, and she reached out her hand to squeeze his fingers reassuringly. Donovan was proof there were exceptions to every rule.

  Oliver lazily swam closer. “Did you know, the Were have multiple partners too?”

  Azar narrowed her eyes at him. She had a feeling this had been the point of his line of questioning to begin with. “There have always been more males than females in the Were world, just a natural balance within nature, I guess. So, most females have several mates. You already know that we care for the pups as a society, so direct parentage has always been a non-issue.”

  He was so close now, she could see the droplets of water roll down his face. “What are you getting at, Oliver?”

  He smirked at her. “What I’ve said all along, Az. This could be our life, and I’m willing to wait. I don’t mind sharing, and I don’t think D would either.”

  His body was pressed right along hers, and she could feel every groove in his body as his leg slid between hers.

  She looked over at Donovan, whose face was completely impassive, until she got to his eyes. His eyes looked hungry. “I never said I wanted to be with Azar,” he said quietly, although his fingers lifted to brush along her spine, sending tingles across her flesh.

  Oliver just gave him a knowing look. “Not with your words, man. But I see you watching her.”

  She realized her breathing had become choppy, and Oliver leaned forward and kissed her. Well, kind of. His lips barely brushed hers, but she wanted nothing more than to leap forward and capture his mouth with hers. Donovan had shifted imperceptibly closer, so that he was a mere inch away from her back, wedging her between them.

  She swallowed hard. “Bast.”

  She said his name like someone would say the Lord’s name before being tempted into sin. Because despite how much she loved Bast, a part of her heart wanted what Oliver was offering.

  He gave her a sad smile and floated away. “I’ll wait, Az.”

  He grinned at her, that classic Oliver grin, and swam towards the shore. “Come on, we better go before Lorcan comes down to see if we’ve been attacked.”

  Azar turned, and Donovan was still there, staring down at her intently. She looked up at him under her lashes. “Is Oliver right?”

  His jaw flexed. “The cat is rarely right about anything.”

  A non-answer. Azar shoved down all her insecurities to push for the truth. “Is he right about this?”

  He was silent for a long time, and she was beginning to think he wasn’t going to answer her. Finally, he ground his teeth. “Yes.”

  He climbed out of the water, grabbed his stuff and walked away, leaving Azar floating in a world of doubt.

  Chapter 3

  When the weather was unseasonably warm, Azar always wanted to barbecue. Actually, even when it was freezing, Azar like to barbecue. Partly because she liked her meat charred to a crisp, and partly because it was one of
the few times she could use her abilities out in the open.

  So, she’d persuaded the guys to build a fire pit so they could barbecue. And by barbecue, she meant Freya or Nevyn would hold a chunk of meat on a stick in front of her, and she would toast it like a marshmallow using her powers. The kids loved it.

  Oliver’s phone rang and he wiggled it out of the back pocket of his too tight jeans.

  “’Lo?”

  Azar watched as he turned ashen beneath his tan. Something was very wrong.

  “Hold on!” he yelled, and was on his feet. Golden fur sprang up on his arm as he ran towards the car.

  “Oliver! What’s wrong?” Azar yelled as she ran after him.

  “The Fae are attacking the Weres. I need to go!”

  Azar’s firefighter training set in, and she ran through a checklist in her mind of what needed to be done. “Oliver, wait! I’m coming with you. Lorcan!” The Fae man appeared in front of her almost instantly. “Guard the children. That’s an order.”

  “Yes, Goddess. But with all due respect, we are coming with you. I will leave my most skilled warriors to guard the Prince and the young one. But it seems our skills will be better utilized wherever you are going.”

  She nodded once, no time to argue. “Where are we going?

  “They’ve got an emergency den on Hamburg Mountain across State lines, with a couple of other packs. It’s about five miles north of the end of Mud Pond Road.” He was already in the front seat of the SUV.

  Lorcan nodded to a soldier next to him. “Do you have the ley lines for that position?” The soldier gave a curt nod. “May the Mother speed your journey and bring you home victorious.” With that, he turned into the woods, barking orders in his rough form of Gaelic.

  Azar looked at Donovan. “Are you coming or not?”

  He had his arms crossed over his chest. “You would run to their aid, even though they abandoned you?” This was directed at Oliver.

  “Yes. They took me in when I had no one. Much like they did Freya. They have earned my loyalty many times over.” With that, he turned the ignition over and shifted into gear. Donovan looked back at Freya, clearly unwilling to leave her alone.

  “Go Daddy, we’ll be fine. The wolves were my friends too.” Tears had welled in her own luminous black eyes, and they seemed to seal Donovan’s decision. He slid into the backseat, and they tore down the road in a hail of gravel and fallen leaves.

  Azar spent the thirty-minute trip to the Weres’ emergency dens trying to prepare herself for what she might see. If the Fae could decimate the Djinn, then what chance to the Weres have? Would she see the faces of people she knew, dead at her feet? What about the pups, were they safe? The longer she was in the car, the more worked up she got.

  Oliver was doing one-thirty on the freeway, swerving through traffic with preternatural precision. The waves of anger and fear pheromones pouring off Donovan in the back was starting to make her feel nauseous, like her skin was rippling.

  They saw the smoke from ten miles out, and those last few minutes, jolting over every pothole at breakneck speed, were some of the longest of her life.

  When they pulled into the clearing around the den mouth, Azar jumped from the car, fireballs flying.

  It was carnage. Dead wolves lay fallen on the open field, more between the trees, some in human form, but most in wolf. It was just like the vision Danu had showed her.

  She threw a fireball at a Fae soldier, stunningly attired in gold and white, like a sun god. Fortunately, he lit up like a supernova when her flame encompassed his body.

  She fell naturally into a fighter’s trance, where everything slowed to the person in front of her, yet her senses were attuned to the battle around her.

  Oliver was cutting a path through the Fae with his powerful claws, shredding those in his way, heading for the mouth of the den. He was going to guard the front, a last line of defense between the attackers and the pups.

  Azar could see Lorcan’s troops fighting the other Fae. If people weren’t trying to kill her, it would have been a beautiful dance to watch. More evenly matched than the Weres or the Djinn, they moved with choreographed grace, circling, slicing and stabbing with speed that was nearly invisible to the eye.

  She saw a wolf bite the Achilles tendon of an attacking Fae, who was in hand to hand contact with one of the Black Prince’s men. Azar breathed a sigh of relief that the wolves seemed to be able to differentiate the two, knowing friend from foe.

  Not counting on the arrival of Lorcan’s men, the Fae soon retreated, but not without leaving carnage in their wake. Dead wolves littered the ground like autumn leaves.

  Azar stared around at the fallen bodies, looking but trying not to see. Donovan was kneeling over a body and she ran to him.

  At his feet lay the body of Jerry, the head of security at Donovan’s nightclub, The Onyx, until the place had been closed down for hiatus. Jerry had asked for permission to return to the pack, and Donovan had easily agreed. Azar leaned down and checked for a pulse, out of habit, and felt sadness wash over her when she felt nothing but the rapid cooling of Jerry’s flesh.

  There was a soul-wrenching howl from somewhere behind them, and Azar turned toward the sound. Donovan just continued to stare down at Jerry.

  She touched his arm, and he flinched away. “I’m sorry.” It was inadequate, but it was all she had.

  She wandered dazedly toward the plaintive howl, which had now been joined by many more voices. As Azar walked, she was joined by the Black Prince’s army, who amassed at her back, guarding it with their own lives.

  The remaining members of the pack were ragged. Bloody, and probably in shock, some had returned to human form, but most remained in their wolf form. They were all huddled around a single point, and Azar searched the faces for one in particular. Aaron. The boy she saved what felt like a lifetime ago. Her heart beat wildly, praying that he wasn’t one of those wolves that lay motionless in the clearing.

  She pushed gently through the crowd, indicating the Black Guard Fae should stay a good distance away. Lorcan ignored her request and moved through the crowd with her, protecting her back. When she made it to the center of the ring of wolves, shock made her feet still.

  She saw the prone body of Anton, the Werewolf Alpha, and knew without checking for a pulse that the man was dead. He had a gut wound that Azar could smell from six feet away, and his eyes were glassy and lifeless. Another howl echoed around the group, and it was a lament so mournful that it raised the hairs on her arm.

  She jumped as someone touched her arm. She whirled to see Aaron, dirty and bloody, but alive. Relief rushed through her body, and she flung her arms around the boy.

  Her fate seemed to be inexplicably tied to that of the werewolf Aaron. She’d rescued him from a demented rogue Ifrit, and it was Aaron that had sent them to Canada to find the Great Weapon. While in Canada they’d found Jack, and the Fae, and the truth that they had a far more dire problem than the Great Weapons being in the hands of a human.

  She pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re safe! The pups?”

  “They’re okay. The Fae didn’t manage to penetrate the den. It would have been a different story if those guys hadn’t turned up though.” He nodded toward Lorcan.

  Azar let out a soft breath of relief. “Aaron, meet Lorcan, the Black Prince of the Fae. He’s, err, lent me his army for the time being.”

  The two men, it was still hard for Azar to think of Aaron as a man and not the battered boy she had first met, nodded at each other.

  Aaron gripped her elbow gently, and led her out of the ring of wolves.

  “I am going to run for Alpha of all the packs present,” he murmured low, though everyone around them had preternatural hearing, so it would have made no difference if he shouted.

  “What!” she hissed back. “Are you crazy? What about the Alphas of the other packs?”

  Aaron shook his head. “The three packs of New York State amalgamated when the Fae issued their warning, and Anton was th
e strongest Alpha here so he assumed control of all packs. They need me. The next Alpha can’t be someone who runs and hides, because we’ll be doing that forever. It can’t be someone who will try and attack the Fae in retribution. We need to think this through. We need to work together with the Djinn to beat these guys, and I am the only one who isn’t half afraid of you guys. I’ve seen the Djinn at their best.” He smiled at Azar, and she squeezed his hand. “But I’ve also seen them at their worst.” The boy had been tortured for days by the rogue Ifrit, just for the man’s own sick amusement. He had definitely seen the Djinn at their worst.

  Azar looked at Aaron’s determined face, and she remembered Anton’s words from what seemed like an eon ago. He’d told her that Aaron would be Alpha one day, she just didn’t think that day would come so soon.

  “When will you declare for Alpha?”

  “Right now. You can’t interfere Azar. Promise me?”

  He wanted her to possibly watch him die? Was he nuts? “What if the old Alphas challenge you? Or Tao?”

  From within Aaron’s own pack, Jerry could have been Alpha, but with him dead, the next logical conclusion was Tao. Tao was huge, like a gorilla that ate a refrigerator. There was something in the werewolf genetic pool that seemed to negate necks. Next to him, Aaron was like a twig in the wind. And if Tao wasn’t enough, there were at least a dozen other linebacker sized wolves who might want the position, and that was just from within the original Sterling Forest Pack.

  He gave her a hard look that was wise beyond his years, and she begrudgingly agreed to sit it out on the sidelines.

  Aaron squared his shoulders and strode back into the circle of wolves.

  He stood over Anton’s dead body and let out a piercing howl that was chilling coming from a human throat, and the rest of the wolves joined the chorus.

  “I. AM. ALPHA.”

  It was a statement filled with power and magic and it made her skin ripple.

  Azar held her breath as their confusion cleared and one by one, the surrounding wolves kneeled in human form, or bowed down onto their forelegs as wolves. Everyone seemed to accept his claim, and the amount of power radiating off him nearly had her sinking to her knees. Where had all that power come from?