Immortals of New Orleans Box Set (Books 1-4)
Page 73
“Hey Dec. I need you to shift. Help me break open this door.”
Declan shifted back and prepared to help Logan. Heaving their shoulders into the heavy wood, it splintered open. Logan rushed into the room, finding Kalli stretched upward still holding tight to Gavin. Gently uncurling her fingers from Gavin’s, he took her into his arms. She was shaking, presumably from shock. Logan wrapped his shirt around her. He needed her to shift so she could heal.
“Come on Kalli, girl. You’re okay,” he cajoled, more trying to convince himself than her. He felt the significant goose egg on the back of her head. Blood still trickled out of the gash on her face; her eye was swollen shut. Tristan was going to freak the hell out knowing they’d done this to her.
“You need to shift, baby,” he insisted.
Kalli shook her head, shivering in his arms. “I know…I just need a minute. I’m tired. My head…”
“You’ve got to shift, Kalli.” Feeling as if he was losing her, he made a split decision to take her to Tristan.
Caught up in the kill, Tristan froze at the scent of Kalli’s blood. He quickly turned his head and caught sight of his beta, carrying a broken and bloodied Kalli in his arms. Trudging into the forest, Logan fell to his knees.
“Tristan, please. She needs to shift. I’m guessing she’s got a concussion, but I don’t know how bad it is. She’s in and out. Please,” he pleaded softly, aware that Tristan was still very much wild; his feral beast on edge. Seeing his mate hurt would only inflame his animalistic fervor, but Logan knew that she needed her Alpha. He was the only one who could reach her, force her wolf to resurface.
Releasing a growl, Tristan eyed Logan, holding his injured mate. The animal in him, already agitated, possessively snarled at Logan. His mate. Blood. He stalked toward him, baring his fangs.
Logan lowered his eyes and gently laid Kalli onto the cool earth. “Tristan,” he whispered. “Your mate. Gerald, he hurt her. She needs you to tell her to shift. I think she knows she’s gotta shift but she’s too weak. But she’ll listen to you, her Alpha.”
Logan slowly backed away from Kalli’s body, careful not to look at Tristan directly. The other wolves lowered their heads and flattened their ears, closing their eyes to slits, demonstrating submission. Satisfied that no challenges would come and all wolves were reverent, Tristan crept over to Kalli and licked her face. His wolf whined loudly as it continued to nuzzle her.
As consciousness of Kalli’s predicament took hold, Tristan shifted to his human form. Pulling her gently into his arms, against his naked skin, he brushed the hair from her face.
“Mon amour.” He stifled a cry. What had they done to his mate? “I need you baby, come on now. I need you to shift for me.”
Kalli’s eyes fluttered open. “Tristan,” she whispered. Her Alpha. He was near.
“Chérie, listen to me now, you’ve got a bad head injury there. I’m going to help you, okay? Close your eyes, that’s it,” he coaxed in a gentle tone as she obeyed. Willing himself to remain calm was extraordinarily difficult, but he needed his aura to remain placid. Taking a deep cleansing breath, he concentrated on sending her his power; tendrils of love flowed from his mind to hers.
“Remember our trust, Kalli. Picture your wolf. She’s right there on the surface. Now shift,” he commanded.
Kalli felt a wave of emotion rush through her psyche. The sound of Tristan’s voice spoke to her inner wolf. Listening to the command of her Alpha, she emerged. Cuddling into his arms, she ran her muzzle along his chest, licking, tasting.
Tristan blew out a breath, thanking the Goddess she’d listened. His little wolf was perfectly nestled in his arms. Safe. He caught a glimpse of Logan, who’d watched in awe. Nodding in thanks to his beta, Tristan returned his attention to Kalli.
“You’re beautiful, baby. Look at you.” He kissed her head, rubbing her pelt until her head fell back in pleasure.
“Logan, we’ve got to get out of here,” he told him, not letting Kalli move away from him.
Logan shuffled up to his feet. “Tris, there’s women and pups below. Maybe seven or eight souls from what I could scent. I don’t know for sure, but we’ve gotta get them.”
Wiping his face with the back of his hand, Tristan groaned. “Christ, I knew he couldn’t have done away with all the pack. Take Dec and the others with you. Get em’ out. We’re taking them home. When we get back, we’ll figure it all out.” Tristan looked around, spotting Simeon in a tree.
“Simeon, get the plane ready. Any chance we can get a charter set up for the others?”
“Yeah, sure boss. I’m on it,” he replied, climbing down.
“Right, thanks.” Tristan acknowledged. He looked back to Logan and extended his hand upward to his beta. “Logan, I can’t thank you enough for getting her out. I’m going to take Kalli back now. I’ll meet you back at the cabin.”
Logan took his Alpha’s hand, with great respect. What they’d done hadn’t been easy, but it had had to be done. No longer under threat, they’d return to their territory.
As Logan turned to retrieve the imprisoned pack subordinates, Tristan transformed back into his black wolf. Waiting patiently for Kalli to get her bearings, he contemplated loose ends. What still remained a mystery was who had staged the attack on Marcel’s wolves. Neither Gerald nor Jax had claimed responsibility. Yet, clearly the wolves who’d attacked his sister belonged to an Alpha, he was sure. Lone wolves rarely engaged in territorial war tactics. He reasoned that Marcel still had cause to remain cautious.
Kalli approached, jarring his mind back to his first priority. Watching her pad toward him, his heart swelled. His mate. As soon as they returned, they’d make it official. Soon he’d rule Lyceum Wolves, no longer alone.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It’d been exactly twenty-four hours since they’d left South Carolina, and for the first time in her life, she felt free. Like an eagle soaring in the sky, she rejoiced in the majestic landscape that was her new life. Fully healed from her shift, they’d agreed that tonight they’d officially mate.
With no reservations, she’d laid perfectly bare on his bed, waiting for Tristan to come to her. As he opened the bathroom door, he gave her a sultry smile, his own nude body attuned to her need. Never one to be dominated, Tristan promptly flipped her onto her stomach, straddling her legs.
Not quite sitting on her bottom, he supported his weight with his well-toned legs. As he leaned forward to massage her back, his hard arousal bulged against her skin. She wriggled against the bed in anticipation, thoroughly enjoying the feel of his velvety hardness against her own skin.
“Yes,” Kalli mewled as Tristan ran his magical fingers down the base of her spine.
“Did I tell you today how beautiful you are?”
“Hmm…maybe only five times,” she smiled.
“Ah, then I’ll have to tell you again and again until you forget the exact number.” He kissed her shoulder lightly. “But first, tonight, we’re going to mate. And rumor has it that we’ll be in for quite the ride once I taste your sweet blood.”
“Is that right?” she murmured into her pillow, enthralled by his touch.
“So I’ve been told. But the only way to know for sure is for us to,” he paused to kiss slowly up and down her back, giving her the chills, “experiment. Put things to task as they say. You ready, my little wolf?”
“More than you’ll ever know.” Stretching her neck to view him, her eyes caught his. “My Alpha, take me.”
Tristan reached his arms around her small body. Capturing a warm breast with one hand, he dipped his other down into her wet heat, circling her center of nerves. Continuing to lick and kiss her back, he smiled as Kalli moaned in delight.
Grinding against his hand, Kalli felt the rush of desire. Her orgasm edged her psyche, the painful ache in her core, needing relief. As his erection pressed against the crease of her bottom, she shuddered in arousal. “Tristan, oh, God.”
“That’s it, baby. So close aren’t you?”
�
��Yes!” she screamed as he inserted a finger into her hot sheath. Unrelenting, he applied pressure to her clit, pushing her over into climax. She shook against the bed, his hard hot body pressed to hers, his chest to her back.
Before she had a chance to recover, he rolled her to her side and gently kneed open her legs, slowly intertwining their limbs. Nestled together, he took hold of his swollen manhood and slid the hard shaft up and down her glistening folds, coating himself in her juices.
Cupping the cheek of her face, he let his gaze fall upon her eyes, as if seeing deep into her soul. Locked on each other with intent, he slowly rocked up into her warm tight channel. Kalli’s breath caught as he entered her, but they never lost eye contact. Reaching for him, she wrapped a hand around his neck, threading the fingers of her other hand in his hand.
Face to face, chest to chest, they made love. One singular moment in time, they wordlessly connected, the emotional intensity vised around their hearts like a steel band. Thrusting in unison, slowly and deliberately, their desire mounted. Breathless, their pulses raced in hunger for each other. Tristan began to lose control as they reached a pinnacle of pleasure.
“Kalli,” he panted. “I love you with all that I am. You are mine. My soul. My mate.”
“Tristan. You’re my everything. My mate.”
Before she had a chance to say anything else, Tristan kissed her. A passionate, loving kiss representing their eternal love and connection pushed them into simultaneous orgasm. Spilling himself deep within her, Tristan extended his canines. Piercing into his mark, her honeyed blood solidified the mating bond.
Kalli shuddered around him, clamping down on him, her release finding its way through every cell in her body. As she bit into Tristan, his powerful essence assuaged her heart and soul. Everything that was Alpha and man, merged into her psyche. Like a solar flare, flames of love ignited, dancing into their universe.
Coming down from the climax, they held tightly to each other. Both Kalli and Tristan relaxed into the sweet embrace, not willing to relinquish the intimacy that had passed between them. A bond forged in love and trust that neither had ever dreamed could exist. A new world of leading Lyceum Wolves awaited them.
Epilogue
As the private plane landed in New Orleans, Logan’s mind raced. It had been a long time since he’d been home, and he was looking forward to helping Marcel figure out who may have killed Paul. He glanced over to the women and children he’d rescued, who were huddled closely in their seats. He and Tristan had made the decision to relocate the remaining Wallace pack wolves to his old pack instead of keeping them in Philadelphia.
Three women and four children, all dirty and battered, were going to get a new lease on life. After talking with them, he gleaned they’d been kept down in Gerald’s makeshift prison for well over a year. Apparently, the former Wallace pack Alpha didn’t want to have to even see their faces, let alone hear from them. So he’d condemned them to living in the subterranean hell.
Logan was disgusted that anyone would treat another soul in such an inhumane manner. Sure, he’d grown up hearing the rumors of violence within the old packs, but never in all his years had he witnessed such a horrific sight. It was no wonder Kalli had been so afraid of wolves and created the CLI in order to remain hidden. As he reflected on the women’s fate, he reasoned that they too could begin new lives for themselves. But like Kalli, they’d probably be emotionally traumatized by the violence. Even with a new home and pack, life wouldn’t be easy for them, regardless of everyone’s good intentions.
Julie had accompanied him on his long flight. He observed how she’d taken the initiative and was helping them exit the jet. Goddess, he hoped a good dose of her healing would go a long way to help them assimilate. He waved over to Katrina, Tristan’s sister, who’d come to the airport to help. She was taking them to Marcel’s bayou compound. She gave him a sad smile and a nod as she helped the women and their pups get settled into a large limo that was waiting on the tarmac. While reluctant to let them go, he was assured they were in good hands. Waving goodbye, he entered into a separate limo that waited for his arrival.
Instead of going toward the country, Logan headed toward the city. Marcel was held up in his Garden District mansion, working on business, and Logan sought to debrief him as to what had occurred in South Carolina. Most importantly, he needed to make it clear that there was still someone out there, who he feared planned another attack on the wolves. Neither Jax Chandler, the Wallace pack nor any other packs had claimed responsibility for Paul’s death. And his visions told him there was more death to come….another dead wolf. So when Tristan suggested that he accompany the South Carolina wolves to their new Louisiana home, he eagerly agreed to go. He felt that if he could talk to Marcel in person, he could get a better handle on what was happening, clarify his dreams and help catch the killer.
Strip malls, churches and infamous above-ground cemeteries flashed by his line of vision on the short drive into the city. As they entered the Warehouse District, he was reminded of memories from long ago. During the late eighteen hundreds, Marcel, Tristan, Mira and he would take weekend trips to the French Quarter, attending masked Carnival balls, socializing into the wee hours of the morning. Then later, at the turn of the century, they’d witnessed the beginnings of Jazz played in the Storyville cabarets. And to this day, he never tired of walking the streets, appreciating the historic architecture. No matter how long he’d lived in Philadelphia, New Orleans was home.
As he reflected on happier times with Mira, the thought of her betrayal cut deep. When Tristan had sent her off to live with his eldest brother, Blake, in his Wyoming pack, he’d wholeheartedly agreed with the decision. Even though he loved her, he’d never be able to trust her again after she’d put the entire pack in danger. She was lucky Tristan hadn’t killed her. Perhaps in time, wounds would heal, he thought, but not anytime soon.
As he opened the car door, he took a deep breath, reminded of his intentions. Cicadas sung in the night as he drew in the warm southern air. He loved everything about New Orleans, from pralines to eating creole shrimp to sitting in his boat in the swamp, listening to music while watching the gators sun themselves. There wasn’t much he didn’t like about the Big Easy. He sighed, wishing this trip was for pleasure, but alas, it wasn’t.
The sound of a low growl emanating from the house first alerted him that something wasn’t right. He quickly ran up the steps and burst through the large front door. As he darted into a large moonlit parlor, he heard the sound of gunfire as Marcel fell to the floor. A burly, masked man dressed in black stuffed the gun into his pants and ran toward the back door.
“Go,” Marcel gurgled, holding the side of his neck as bright red blood spurted onto the cream-colored Italian marbled floor.
Logan fell to his knees and ripped off his shirt, holding it against the gaping wound. “You’ve gotta shift, Marcel,” he pleaded.
“Let me go. Don’t let him get away with this. Go get him,” Marcel ordered. A sobbing woman raced to his side, bringing a towel to help stop the bleeding.
“Call 911,” Logan yelled before sprinting after the man, determined to follow Marcel’s wishes. He pursued the attacker, wondering where Marcel’s beta was. Where was everyone? Who was the young woman? Unable to reason through what was happening, he focused on his task. Within seconds, Logan caught up with the perpetrator as he was trying to escape from the rear exit. Unsuccessfully but furiously, he yanked at the lock that prevented him from leaving. Logan scented that he was wolf and reached forward to subdue him.
“What the hell?” Logan yelled as the man spun around and punched him across the mouth. Logan staggered, but managed to wrestle him to the ground, grabbing onto his waist. They both hit the ground with a thud, struggling for control. The man extended his claws, scratching at Logan’s face as he attempted to shift while still clothed. But Logan managed to hook a strong arm around the assassin’s neck, squeezing until a loud snap resounded throughout the room. The dead wol
f collapsed immediately upon Logan. Without hesitation, he cursed, removing the hood. Calvin. Marcel’s beta. He’d challenged Marcel?
Logan threw Calvin’s body aside and ran back to Marcel’s side; sirens wailed in the distance. Logan stilled as he came upon the sight of him sprawled on the floor. Oh Goddess no. He fell to his knees, grasping his old friend, pulling him up into his lap.
“Marcel, please man. You’ve gotta shift,” he begged.
“Too late…it’s silver,” Marcel whispered. “Not gonna make it.”
“Goddammit, Marcel. We need you. You can’t leave me. Tristan. Katrina. Hell, your whole pack. Your family. We need you. Now come on and shift,” he demanded.
Marcel coughed up blood and shook his head.
“Where the hell is 911?” Logan screamed, glancing over to the unidentified sobbing woman crumpled in the corner.
“Calvin. It was Calvin,” Marcel grunted.
“Yes. He’s dead. I killed him.” Logan couldn’t think. He’d killed Marcel’s beta. Calvin was the second strongest wolf in the pack. And Marcel, the Alpha, was dying in his arms. This couldn’t be happening.
“Logan, you’re Alpha now.”
“No…listen Marcel, you’re going to make it. I’m not…”
“Yes, you are. Tristan will understand. This is how this works. You know it. You’re my brother too…you’ve got to do this. You have no choice.”
Logan was crying, shaking his head, pulling Marcel’s head to his breast. Goddess no. Please Goddess no.
“Say it,” Marcel choked out, commanding him.
“No, I can’t. Please don’t leave, Marcel.”
“Say it!”
Resigned, Logan took a deep breath. He could hear Marcel’s heartbeat flutter. Tristan was right about nature and fucking goddamn fate. No one could fight her. Logan held his friend silently, listening as his pulse slowed. He swore revenge for his friend…for his pack. As the life faded from Marcel’s eyes, Logan held his gaze and assured his friend.