Wolf's Song

by Taryn Kincaid

  “Don’t believe everything you hear.” He looked down, smelling the musk of her arousal. But also the scent of a she-cat going into heat. “If half the gossip about me was true, I’d be fucking you ladies 24/7 and I’d never have time for anything else.”

  “But, baby….” The purring gave way to a yowl of unsatisfied disappointment. “I’ve got an itch. I need you to scratch it.”

  He shook his head. “Get back to work, Delilah. Plenty of guys out there’ll pay top dollar to scratch that itch for you.”

  “Damn you, Bart. You’re the only one I really want.”

  “Out.” He jabbed a thumb toward the door. With a pout, she flounced across the office, heading to the exit. “And take care of yourself, if you don’t want to be knee-deep in a litter of kits.”

  She paused, her hand on the knob, and looked back at him, her golden feline eyes narrowed. “Thought you were looking to increase the clan?”

  “Yeah. When I know I can take care of all the young and everyone else looking to me for security.”

  “Just need you to take care of me, baby.”

  “We’re done here, Delilah.”

  She blew him a sarcastic kiss and left him alone at last. His employees—hell, most of Shady Heart—referred to him as “Black Bart,” a play on his middle name and the dark looks he aimed in their direction when their work fell short of his exacting standards. Originally, they’d used the nickname only behind his back, but then more openly as soon as they’d realized he didn’t care one way or the other. Women, especially, seemed to prefer it, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, particularly when they managed to entice him into their beds and boasted about it afterwards.

  Whatever.

  He had bigger things to worry about. Like keeping the clan alive.

  Years earlier, he’d forged a secret pact with Magnum Tao, the old Black Hills Wolves alpha. Magnum’s chief interests lay in lining his own pockets, not caring whether he destroyed the pack in pursuit of his greed. He gave up more and more pack territory, dense, untouched forest land, until he held little more than the town of Los Lobos itself. But now the old alpha was dead, and it didn’t look like he’d get the same sweet deal from Drew Tao, the new pack leader. Something told him the prodigal son was more thoughtful, more interested in rebuilding both the pack and Los Lobos and the surrounding areas. Keeping secure buffer zones around shifter territory and those out to destroy the changelings. Not unlike Cal.

  The hell with that.

  He wanted—needed—the whole fuckin’ mountain under his control. Wolves be damned. Only then could he ensure the safety and security of the pride. A few were skinwalkers like his rebellious niece, able to take any animal form they wished. But most were purebred cats of one kind or another. South Dakota had declared open season on mountain lions and the human hunters didn’t distinguish between the endangered feral variety or the Shady Heart shifters. Only about ten breeding male mountain lions and forty breeding females remained in the wilds of the Black Hills. He’d be damned if that would happen to his extended Shady Heart family. No way would he let the humans wipe out his cats. He’d take over the whole fuckin’ mountain and build a fuckin’ fortress around Clan Goldspark or die trying.

  Only one thing he had less use for than a human. And that was a wolf. Especially if Magnum Tao was an example of sterling lupine character. Crazy fuck.

  Cal’s lieutenants were primed and bulldozers were poised to raze Los Lobos to the ground, to create a new walled and gated Goldspark community, well-armed and guarded, off-limits to anyone he didn’t want in, forbidden to all those who could not exhibit the proper papers or enough coin. He planned an exclusive country club and luxury mall/entertainment complex to keep the residents entertained, and bring in cash from the outside, the way the enormous influx of money from his Graymarket Trading Company Saloon and Casino enterprises insured the pride’s wealth, stabilized Shady Heart, and fueled the current project. Prosperity and electronic fences insured the clan’s safety. Its longevity. Foreigners could spend all their cash in Shady Heart. But if they ventured near mates, cubs, residences…he’d make sure they were taken out. Fast.

  He took another swig of the Scotch, setting the glass on a stack of blueprints and files, and rolled up the sleeves of his black button down, preparing to get back to work. Someone pounded on his office door, the hammering insistent and urgent. He recognized the knock.

  “What is it, Smash?”

  “Need you out here, Boss.” The deep voice of his second, a swift and lethal puma, carried over the club’s din. A moment later, Smash Snowdon poked his head into the office. Then his broad, bulky shoulders. Then the rest of his massive frame.

  He’d chosen his bouncer and cat-of-all-trades well. “Yeah?”

  “Your niece, boss. She’s back.”

  Cal raised an eyebrow. “So? You know Summer comes and goes as she pleases. Always has.” The most free-spirited member of his pride, she lived far out of town in a tree house she’d cajoled him into building in the woods after her parents died. He’d have done anything for his late sister—and he indulged her daughter the same way. Ever since her mishap as a kitten when she’d tumbled out of a tree, landing naked in human form before the gawking, hooting crowd that had gathered to watch her climb, she flitted around most often in her raven guise. Which drove him and his cat nuts. But which he consciously tried to accept. They’d lose her otherwise. They rarely saw her now.

  And still more unlikely for her to put in an appearance at the saloon—although sometimes only her calming, sweet songs lifted the place out of chaos.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “She’s got a big male in tow—a wolf by the scent and size and look of him—and she’s got some of the guys whipped into a frenzy. He’s wrapped around her pretty much, human teeth bared, growling at anyone who dares to glance in their direction. And, according to Zeke, they were over to the pharmacy.” Smash paused, suddenly fascinated by the toes of his well-worn shitkickers. “Buying condoms.”

  “Fuck.” Cal ran a hand through his hair. A complication he didn’t need right now. For a few years now, some of his lieutenants and many of the younger cats had been sniffing around his niece. She’d ignored all of them and he hadn’t pressured her into a choice—although he had been angling for her to take a feline mate. But for her to turn up now with a fuckin’ wolf? Flaunting him under their noses? Buying fuckin’ condoms together?

  “His stink on her?”

  “Well….” Smash hesitated and looked away from his fascinating boots to a spot over Cal’s shoulder. Mesmerized by the knots in the polished oak paneling behind him, no doubt. He understood the puma’s reluctance to speak. He’d made his intentions in that direction pretty well known, going so far as to approach Cal for her hand. But Summer’d never given Smash the time of day.

  “It’s faint. But it’s there. He hasn’t marked her yet, though.”

  A string of curses hissed out of him and the hair stood up on the back of his neck, his fangs descending. He arched his back, bones cracking as he suppressed the shift and took a deep breath. “You recognize him?”

  “Yeah. That Brick Northridge character, lives up the mountain.”

  Halfway between Shady Heart and Los Lobos. Right in the path of Cal’s land grab. He’d suffered the lone wolf’s presence only because Gee had planted him there as a brutalized teen. And no one crossed Gee. And because it annoyed the shit out of Magnum that he’d given the banished rogue a pass so close to cat territory, allowing him into Shady Heart when he pleased.

  He nodded. “The one who carves the animal figurines Brynna sells in her boutique. She can’t keep ’em stocked. The tourists—hell, even the cats—love ’em.” And all cash exchanges in Shady Heart eventually floated up or trickled down for the greater good.

  “Yeah. Comes in for a drink—or to get laid—from time to time, when he brings the carvings and stocks up on supplies. Usually minds his own business. The girls like him. But this…hell, Boss. It’
s Summer. ”

  Damn it. The wolf was no skinny youth now. He’d grown huge and muscular, at least as big as he and Smash. Likely his niece had no idea what she played with. Or…maybe she did. But no way he’d let the standoffish clan princess, who’d rejected the suit of every one of his cats, hook up with a fuckin’ wolf. Not while he lived.

  “Get ’em in here,” he growled. “Now.”

  Chapter Five

  Three big cat shifters jumped Brick from behind, twisting his arms behind his back, holding him down. He flashed back to ten years earlier, Timothy Leary without the Day-Glo posters or the psychedelic buzz. Another bar. Another bar fight. His challenge to Magnum in The Den in Los Lobos, when he’d been beaten bloody and senseless and banished from the Black Hills Pack.

  But he’d done nothing this day…except enter the Graymarket Trading Company Saloon and Casino with Summer Krazy Glued to his side. A scramble of voices immediately bombarded him, made his skull go all Excedrin Headache No. 42. Until his female stroked the back of his neck, calming and soothing as only she could. The “Macarena” of sound inside his brain slowed to a jiggle, the cacophony of white noise and static ebbing and dimming, her gentle song playing in the background. But her apparent willingness to touch him so familiarly in front of the cats—hell, her need to—seemed to craze them.

  His gaze riveted on her. His need to wrap himself around her mushroomed. Her face grew taut, anguish stamped on her tight features, as chaos erupted in the saloon. He smelled the cats, the flood of testosterone, their sexual arousal. They wanted her. As much as they wanted him dead. Must. Protect. Her. No matter the cost. “Get the hell out of here, sweetheart,” he muttered. “I’ll follow. Go. Fly, Aura Lee.”

  “Yeah, not quite yet, Summer.” The largest of the cats grabbed her by the elbow, effectively clipping her wings. “And who the fuck is Aura Lee?” He spat onto the floor. “You messing with this wolf, giving him free samples, and he doesn’t even know your name? When there’s so many cats would put a ring on it for you?” He shook his head in disgust. “Your uncle wants to see you.” He nodded at the thugs holding Brick. “Bring him to Cal’s office.”

  But Brick wasn’t an untried cub any longer. And his female would not be wrested from his grasp. A howl burst from his throat, loud enough to curdle their cottage cheese. He martialed a flurry of long and patiently practiced t’ai chi moves, kicked out at his captors and caught them off guard. The moment their grip on him relaxed, he quickly shifted. He knew his mature wolf loomed huge and formidable, bigger than any of them, when the crowd edged back in fear.

  Baring his fangs, he forced them to retreat with unholy snarls, his gaze traveling from one to the next as if they were Hungry-Man Backyard Barbecue and his inner dinner gong had rung.

  He hunkered onto his haunches, gathering muscles, preparing to spring at the male holding Summer. To tear the creep’s throat and heart out, for daring to lay a hand on his…mate. Put a ring on her? Fuck that shit. Only one male would do that.

  Mine. He growled. With lethal athletic speed, he went Cape Canaveral aerodynamic, launching his bulk into the air.

  “Not today, wolf. Not in my house.” Cal Seven, the owner of the saloon and casino, stood in his office doorway, a shotgun on his shoulder, aimed unerringly in Brick’s direction.

  Stinging pain seared into his back, his hind quarters, his shoulders. He dropped like a boulder, crumpling to the ground.

  ***

  When Brick came to, he lay on a parquet wood floor, a throw rug blanketing his naked human form. Cotton balls —hell, an entire cotton field, boll weevils included, grew in his mouth. Clouds rolled through his head, black and stormy. No blood. But darts of pain, as if he’d been pin cushioned by a swarm of bees.

  “Tranq gun,” a deep voice drawled above him. “What we use to subdue a feral animal in our midst. Before we decide if the creature’s rabid and needs to be put down. Took about ten rounds to topple you.”

  He cranked his heavy eyelids open. Cal Seven leaned back against his desk, arms crossed over his chest. Behind him, on the wall, a vast map of the mountain. Red pins dominating. A sprinkle of green pins where Los Lobos should be. His beast yowled, jabbing frenzied claws into his flesh. Great. Skin needled inside and out. He’d probably leak from all the punctures if he had something to drink. Speaking of which…his mouth had gone totally Mojave.

  The saloon owner nodded toward the long-barreled gun resting on its butt end at his side. “Don’t make me plug you again, wolf. Don’t think my niece would be happy with that.”

  “Summer,” he croaked, his mouth dry, his lips cracked.

  “I’m here, my darlin’.” Her voice soft, sweet, the soothing lilt he lived for. He turned toward the sound. She huddled, dispirited, in a chair in the corner of the room. Not tied down that he could see. But something seemed to subdue and constrain her natural ebullience.

  “What did he do to you?” A belligerent growl. But the residual effects of the drugs sapped his demand of true force.

  “Nothing.” She couldn’t disguise her bitterness.

  “I’ve managed to convince my niece the time has come for her to take a mate. And to choose one of her own kind.”

  “Niece?” he echoed.

  “Oh, did she neglect to mention that? Daughter of my beloved sister. Revered female of the Goldspark Clan. Of which I’m alpha. A princess of priceless worth. Destined bride of an estimable cat. Beyond the touch of a packless no-account loner.”

  Cal’s words dealt him a series of blows more crushing than the pummeling he’d taken so many years earlier in The Den. Summer? His Summer? His beautiful, daring, high-flying raven? His Aura Lee? Niece of the alpha of the Goldspark Clan? Promised to a fucking cat?

  His wolf rebelled. Howled.

  Brick rose to his feet with a roar. “Not while I live.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s kind of the point, wolf. The trade Summer’s agreed to make. She’ll take the mate I pick for her. Mother some kits for us. And I’ll let you live.” Cal actually smiled. “Oh, and you’ll remove yourself from my mountain. Never show your hide anywhere near Shady Heart again”

  “Your mountain?” he echoed.

  Cal gestured at the game plan on the wall behind him. “Soon enough. Magnum pretty much sold you wolves out. Gave up more and more territory every year for a couple of handfuls of gold. But I don’t trust Drew to do the same. Or honor his father’s agreements with me. My bulldozers are getting ready to plow Los Lobos into the ground even as we speak. Just waiting for the word. But my niece has convinced me to spare one wolf. That’d be you.” The lethal grin broadened. “Deal?”

  His mouth stuffed with dryer lint, he barely mustered enough saliva to spit. His drugged limbs weighed him down. Or he’d lunge at the motherfucker and tear out his throat, claw off his head. And that would definitely not endear him to the female he craved.

  “Brick, please.” Summer’s voice, beseeching him. “If anything happens to you, I’ll die.”

  “Won’t let you sacrifice yourself for me, sweetheart.”

  She shook her head. Tears meandered down her cheeks. “For me,” she whispered. “Please. For me. I won’t be able to bear it if they hurt you.”

  “You’d mate another?” His words emerged dark, vicious, bitter.

  “For your life? Yes.” She extended a hand, as if she could reach him from across the room. “Nothing I wouldn’t do.”

  “No life without you,” he muttered.

  “You’ll make one.” Pause. She looked away from him, swallowing a sob, the tears flowing more freely. “As I will.”

  Her words clawed his gut, ripping open his belly, exposing a bag of shredded giblets, the pain so sharp it diced his guts. A blood-orange haze descended over his eyes. His heart. Jesus. How could the ticker even keep beating when she’d julienned the muscle like coleslaw?

  “We’ve only known each other a day,” she tried. But the falsehood didn’t resonate, had no strength.

  “Ten fucking years,” he
snapped. “Ten years of racing beneath the moon together. Of play. Of friendship. You saved my life back then. Gave me something to live for. For what? This? To kill me now? I’m dead either way.”

  “Ten years?” Cal raised an eyebrow, darting a disgruntled glance at his niece before shaking his head, as if shaking off the unwanted disclosure of their long-term bond. His focus returned to Brick, with lethal intensity. “Your choice, wolf. Summer’s made hers.”

  Rebellion filled him like boiling acid but he couldn’t submit, couldn’t surrender. He stared back at the cat alpha and shrugged. “Put me in the fucking ground then. I don’t give a shit.”

  “No.” Summer shrieked and shifted suddenly, flying at him, perching on his shoulder. Her song filled his brain, lulling him. “Aura Lee, Aura Lee, Maid with golden hair; sunshine came along with thee, and swallows in the air.”

  “Don’t do this, baby.” He shook his head, trying to remain alert. “My life…my heart.” The last words he managed.

  She flapped away. Zeroing in on her uncle.

  The tranq gun exploded. Once, twice.

  Chapter Six

  She’d never been to Los Lobos. But she’d get no help from anyone in Shady Heart. Not with her Uncle Cal’s “on-off” switch stuck in the “out-like-a-light” position, as he sprawled on his office floor, frozen as the Blue Screen of Death.

  How she’d pulled that off, she couldn’t imagine. One second she’d been perched on Brick’s shoulder, crooning in his ear, trying to comfort him. The next she’d been winging toward her uncle, ready to peck out his eyeballs—and batting the tranquilizer gun away from his side in the process. As it clattered to the floor, she’d shifted in surprise, snatching it up and plugging him full of industrial strength Carfentanil. He’d kissed the parquet floor in a heartbeat. The bigger they are….

  Nothing she would not do for her wolf. Nothing.