The Alpha's Oracle

by Merry Ravenell

  “The Gleaming what? I told you I’ve got my limits. Organized crime is not my thing. You can come by and I’ll stitch you up, but I ain’t joining up. Nope. I am an independent contractor. Free agent.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. GleamingFang isn’t... a gang or crime ring.”

  She eyed me, very sharp, shrewd, chewed her cheek again, twirled around in her chair and said, “Okay. Let’s go in the back, and you can tell me all about the money and how much crap I’m gonna have to slurp down to get it. Because student loans. Goddamn.”

  The back smelled of disinfectant and dogs. She took up a position behind the largest metal exam table. I gestured to Eroth and Renzo to stand back and just relax while we spoke. Now that I had time, I noticed the peeling counters and paint, the way everything tried to stay clean but was dirty with the grime of age and disrepair.

  I had never told anyone about wolves before, and I wasn’t sure the best way to go about it. That was a conversation we usually avoided having.

  “Spill it, Purple Dress.”

  “My name is Gianna. You remember that dirty pitchfork?”

  “Bullshit story. Who the hell runs around stabbing people in tuxedos with pitchforks? That should at least make the weird crime section of the newspaper, but let me tell you, I’ve been waiting for it to show up, and it hasn’t.” She wagged a finger at me.

  “It was claws.”

  “From what? A fucking bear running loose in the city? Also not in the weird crime section.”

  “No, a werewolf.”

  “Right. Are you high? Because I don’t have any really good drugs here, and I ain’t gonna help you get them. That’s more than ‘slightly’ illegal.”

  So not the best start. I weighed my options, then decided she just needed a demonstration. “Eroth, can you handle being in war-form without destroying everything?”

  “Yes, Lady.”

  “Demonstrate to the doctor what we’re about.”

  He started to remove his clothing, neatly folding each piece and placing it in one of the plastic chairs.

  “Well, okay then,” the vet said, eyeing him up and down as more and more skin was revealed. “No ink, but still nice. Very nice. So can you pick up a dollar bill with those pert butt cheeks?”

  Eroth grinned. “Show me the dollar.”

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a few crumbled bills. “What will three bucks get me?”

  Eroth was about to say something when I intervened. “Show her what you are before she spends money on you.”

  With the frightening speed required of all IronMoon warriors, Eroth melted and stretched into a dark brown, shaggy war-form, smaller than one might expect but with vicious fangs and wild, yellow eyes, his breath echoing off the walls of the room. His claws cracked into the cheap linoleum and underlying cement pad.

  The vet yelped, scrambled up onto the counter, and tried to crawl into the cupboards before she realized she was not the size of a mouse. She turned back around, but Eroth was already back in human form, looking rather smug. I told him to get dressed while I coaxed the vet off her perch.

  “You won’t outrun me,” Renzo informed her when she tried to squirm down the length of the counter away from me.

  “You aren’t helping.” I half-pulled, half-coaxed the shaking vet off the counter.

  “The fuck—” she sputtered. I let her babble to herself. After a few minutes her color had halfway returned. She went to the ancient fridge, pulled out a bottle, and downed large slugs of it.

  She wiped her sleeve on her mouth, then, panting around the burning liquor, said, “So. Um. Yeah. Um. Wow. Yeah. And it ain’t even the full moon.”

  “We don’t force-shift on the full moon. And if we bite you, you won’t turn into one of us.”

  “So everyone I saw the other night was a werewolf?”

  “Yes.”

  “Wolves in tuxedos at the ballet.” That required another shot.

  “Sort of.”

  Her shaking eased a little with each word. “So... what do you want with me? Did I pass some werewolf medical board exam?”

  “I don’t like our pack doctor and don’t want anything to do with him.”

  “I’m a vet.”

  I shrugged.

  “And you call the shots? You’re the boss? Because the big guy with the holes in his leg seemed like the boss to me.”

  “He is a... Lord Alpha.” I said. “I’m going to marry him in about a week. Well, what a human would call marry.”

  “So if Boss Wolf rules this territory, what the hell were you doing here for mending, and why was he cut up at all?”

  If Hix had been there he would have commended her shrewdness. But Hix wasn’t there, so I glossed over it, since it was a complicated question. “We were down here at a Solstice party hosted by the Alpha of Gleaming Fang and an Alpha from another, distant pack who picked a fight.”

  “Over what?”

  “Me.”

  This made her laugh, “Oh my gawd. Put wolves in tuxedos and they’ll still brawl over a woman. Testosterone doesn’t vary much between mammal species. So who won?”

  “Gabel, of course.” I said like it was stupid.

  “Gabel being the one with stab wounds in his leg.”

  “Yes.”

  “Didn’t look like he won. Guess I should have seen the other guy. And you didn’t really answer my question.”

  “It’s not relevant.” I tried to pull my best high-handed tone, but I think it mostly failed. Or she was a tough mark.

  She tinked her fingernails on the metal exam table. “How much are you paying, what are the hours, and how much will it suck? Because you’re gonna have to convince me to leave all this. I mean, who wouldn’t?”

  I told her what she’d be paid, which instantly made her eyes light up. “And the hours are on-call, and I don’t know. Almost all of IronMoon are male, and most of them are a rough lot. Sometimes enforcement of order is... brutal and fatal.”

  “So it’s like working at a late-night dive bar that has illegal, no-rules, bare knuckle matches in the basement after two a.m..”

  I didn’t know much about late-night dive bars or no-rules, bare-knuckle brawls, but it sounded like it a good approximation.

  “Am I going to get molested?”

  “No. Not allowed. Gabel doesn’t have many limits,” I thought of the donkey and collars, “but he doesn’t let females be abused.”

  “Do they all look sort of like that?” She pointed at Eroth. “I mean the body. I can always put a bag over ugly faces. Or turn the lights off. I mean, there are options if the face is ugly.”

  Eroth smirked, and Renzo flipped him the finger.

  “Physical strength and ability are requirements of virtually all IronMoon males,” I said.

  “But they might be idiots. I can live with that. What’s the catch? Aside from the fact that I’m a veterinarian practicing on human bodies without a license, and there may be the occasional dead body? That’s the slightly illegal part, right? So what’s the legal but crappy part?”

  “You can’t tell anyone, you can’t have guests, and the IronMoon are mostly made up of those who have been driven away from proper werewolf society. The other doctor carved his name into the back of a female who rejected his affections.”

  “Nice.” The vet leaned on the table. “Nice. I promise I’m not into carving my initiations into junk. Branding ’em like ’mine’ or ’Ana Was Here’ isn’t my kink. So what did you do to mix in with this lot?”

  “I was tribute. My birthpack surrendered to Gabel, and he took me as his mate.”

  “That’s old school hardcore.” She frowned.

  “That’s not how it’s usually done.” It still stung.

  “Is that what this was?” She touched her arm. “All cut up there? I noticed you two have matching scars.”

  “It’s a Mark,” I said, unable to not sound bitter. “The male—with the female’s consent—carves it into her bicep, and the m
irror image appears on his arm. It is supposed to be a beautiful pattern. I did not consent. I resisted. He ripped into me.”

  “So I should just file that shit under, ‘it’s complicated.’”

  “Are you interested in the job?” I was no longer in the mood to coax this vet along. She had all the information she needed. There wasn’t anything complicated about this.

  She tossed back another gulp of her drink, then put it back in the fridge. “When would I start?”

  “Right now. Plane is waiting for us.” I checked my phone to see the time. The bright white-blue overhead lights reflected in the surface and flitted across my mind. Something dark fluttered in my awareness, shadows moving across a strange surface I didn’t recognize, then the sensation of asphalt against my cheek.

  “Lady Gianna?” Eroth yanked me from the pull.

  I pointed at Renzo, and then the door.

  We waited while Renzo slid into the front of the office, bolted the door, and turned the sign to closed. Didn’t mean anything, but if anyone was coming through the front door, they’d be easy to spot. It only took him a minute but it felt like forever.

  Technically speaking Anders should protect us if there was a problem, but Anders might have been the problem.

  Renzo slipped back into the room and clicked the door behind him. He pointed at the ceiling, then out the front. To Ana, he whispered, “Back way out?”

  “How many?” I asked.

  “Three. Two coming from outside, one on the roof.”

  “GleamingFang?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Ana rolled her eyes and told Eroth, “You better be able to tie those dollar bills in a pretty bowtie.”

  She took us to the far end of the long room and opened a little door I had thought was a closet. It opened onto a very narrow, steep set of stairs. We hurried up the stairs into a tiny, one-room apartment with one window overlooking the back of the lot and an ancient fire escape. Renzo sidled up to the window while Eroth herded me away from it. The vet scurried around, grabbing a few things and throwing them into an old army duffel bag.

  I squirmed through the small window onto the ancient fire escape, which wobbled under our weight, but mercifully didn’t make much noise. I couldn’t see over the edge of the building, but nothing peered back at me.

  “He’s facing the front,” Renzo whispered.

  “And nobody is on the back?” I whispered back.

  “Yet.”

  I carefully tip-toed down the two flights into the back lot. It was bordered by a crappy chainlink fence and apartment complex on the other side. Eroth moved down the ladder after me, swift and silent despite his size. There were no trees and no cover for a hundred yards. A moment later the vet crawled out the window and came down the steps with her bag in tow. Renzo carefully closed the window, then crept down the stairs.

  “Hell yeah.” Ana grinned with a twinkle in her eyes. “Who are those guys?”

  “Not GleamingFang.” Eroth said.

  “Probably IceMaw, then,” I said. “Aaron must be the one controlling Anders.”

  “Who’s Aaron?” Ana poked me.

  “The Alpha who put those holes in Gabel’s leg.”

  “Stabby-stabby!”

  “Are you normal?” I asked her.

  “I’m going to go be a werewolf doctor. No, I’m not normal, Purple Dress.”

  Renzo led us down the back lot to the far end of the strip mall. He peeked around the corner. “They’ve busted into your office.”

  “Sweet. Insurance money!”

  Ana was really not normal. Since she was taking this so well, she could take the point. “Give her the keys, Eroth.”

  “Why?” Eroth asked.

  “They aren’t looking for her. She can go get the car and drive it around here. You want it to get back to whomever sent them that we fled the scene?”

  “But—”

  “We’re not fleeing. We were just leaving. Advancing on our base!” Ana snatched the keys out of Eroth’s hand and sauntered around the building.

  “I think I’m in love,” Eroth muttered as we craned our heads around the building.

  We had parked a bit away, and she was able to walk to the car, get inside, and pull away without us hearing shouts.

  “Flawless victory,” Ana chortled as she crawled into the passenger seat. “They came by car. Cruise by, I’ll snap a plate.”

  “I don’t want them to see us,” Renzo said.

  “They’re tossing my apartment. The glass is all shattered.”

  I piled into the backseat and squished down against Ana. Eroth cruised back around, and Ana snapped some pictures on her phone.

  Gabel was not going to be happy about this, and Hix was going to have a kitten. Or a whole litter of kittens. Angry kittens.

  Gianna >> Vet acquired. On our way to the airport. They were expecting us.

  Gabel >> Who is this someone?

  Gianna >> Don’t know, but we have a truck plate. We were not seen leaving.

  I could feel his anger, even from a distance.

  Gabel >> Come home, buttercup. We shall compare notes. We may have a very serious problem.

  Relative Safety

  I thought Ana would have a ton of questions once we were on the plane, but she grabbed a bottle of liquor from the kitchen, took out her phone, and began tapping wildly on it without so much as a word. Eroth slid into the seat next to her, and she ignored him, engrossed in whatever game she had been playing before we showed up.

  “So what’s this Second Beta stuff,” she asked Eroth about half an hour into the flight. “Like there’s an Alpha male, and I guess that makes you some kind of not-quite Alpha?”

  “Yes,” Eroth said with measured pride, while leering down her blouse.

  He leaned a little too close, she planted her hand on his face and pushed him back, eyes never leaving her phone.

  “And who’s Gianna? She’s like your queen or something?”

  “She is an Oracle, and she will be our Luna soon. A Luna is a female Alpha.”

  “An Oracle? Like seeing the future?”

  “Yes.”

  “Baloney.”

  “Her powers are very real,” Eroth said with mild affront that reminded me of Flint.

  “If you say so.” She tapped faster. “Awwww, yeahhhhh, almost a high scoreeeee... allllllmosssssttttt!”

  This continued for the remainder of the flight.

  I wanted to get Ana settled into IronMoon, but one of the warriors was waiting at the front steps as soon as we arrived, and told me Gabel wanted me in his office as soon as I got back. I asked for someone to round up Violet to show Ana around, and get her squared into her room (hell, to find her a room), oh, and I mentioned maybe not next to Flint’s. Then on to Gabel.

  “Gabel?” I closed the door to his office behind me.

  “Up here. Good hunting?”

  I came around the stairs to the second floor of the office and found myself licking my lips.

  By the Moon, Gabel was good looking.

  Gabel had an open spiral-bound book in one hand, and his lips curled into a smirk that made my panties moisten. “You missed me.”

  I bit my lower lip and tried to tell my privates to calm down. Gabel clapped the book shut and shoved it onto the shelf. He gripped my arms and pushed his face into my neck. I arched as he inhaled, then bit me lightly. “Desire, buttercup. You are nothing but desire.”

  “I... we have something to discuss.” I floundered, trying to stay on task. Gabel had said it was serious, but his scent... so much power, so much prestige...

  “It will wait.” His lips moved over my neck. His hands slid over my rump and lifted me against him. “You cannot expect me to think of work when you need my attention.”

  I tried to protest, but I only breathed his name.

  He kissed the hollow of my throat, then another kiss below that. And another. Each kiss left a burning mark on my skin, stoking a heat within my core.

  He
pulled off my top, and cupped my breasts in each hand. His thumbs moved across my nipples through the satin of my bra. I reached for something to steady myself that wasn’t him. My fingers found the spines of some books. I grasped, pulled them down, and found some purchase on the sharp edges of the shelves.

  His lips found mine again. I greeted his tongue with abandon, struggled to pull myself back from the edge. My skirt became his next victim, then his hand slid between my thighs.

  “Wait.” I tried to catch my breath, but all I could do was moan once he slipped two fingers inside me.

  He growled as he sampled my wetness. I clawed the shelves. Nerves raced, his scent consumed everything. I moaned as he moved within me, and when he withdrew his hand I whimpered in protest.

  Another rough-edged laugh. His fingers teased me a moment, then his grip clenched. The heel of his palm ground into my jewel, and I gasped, jerked, arched against him. The seam of my panties ground into me along with his palm, blending raw abrasion with the pleasure of his skin.

  “Enough of these,” he said with a sudden snarl. He snatched my panties and bra away with his other hand. Then he stepped back to admire his work: my flushed body, hard nipples, wet thighs, my scent.

  He couldn’t mean to leave me like this. I panted, despising him for the threat dancing along the bond, and the cruel glint in his gaze. He pulled of his own clothes, and took me in his arms again.

  His cock shoved against my thigh, and his ashen scent rose cruel and hungry around me. I bit his lower lip. “No games, Gabel.”

  He seized one of my thighs and hooked it over his hip, then other other. His cock pressed along the entire length of my wetness. I arched, and gasped, and he groaned into my neck. I clawed at his shoulders. He couldn’t mean to do this to us. His hands held my ass, guiding me against his length as we both shuddered, and my body pleaded for more.

  “You must learn to ask,” he rasped.

  “No.”

  “I could finish like this,” he bit my ear, “and leave you aching. I’m so close, buttercup, there isn’t even time to taste you, and I so love your taste. Perhaps I should punish you for your stubbornness.”