“She’s alive! I thought she was dead.”
I did too.
“Alpha!” Big G ran toward them, the rest of Margie’s enforcers right behind him.
Zane turned, growling at the giant. In wolf form, instincts ruled and instincts told him to protect his mate, even against her own enforcers. For once Big G listened to him.
“Is she—” Eyes wide, he swallowed, unable to finish the sentence.
Calm down, Zane. Of course they’re concerned, they aren’t a threat. Margie is their alpha.
But the words didn’t stop the growls from coming out of his throat.
Get a grip.
If he sucked in a breath, then he couldn’t growl. Breathe in, exhale. Breathe in, exhale.
She’s hurt. Pick her up and take her to Allen. And because it never hurt to be polite, he tacked on, Please.
Big G’s eyes narrowed. Zane curled his lip. Big G dropped his gaze.
“Okay ... alpha.”
Landa scrambled backward as Big G knelt beside a gasping Margie, lifting her easily into his arms. The giant’s thoughts drifted back to Zane as his long strides headed toward the ranch house.
Your friends are unconscious at the edge of the trees. You might want to do something about that.
Okaaay. So he’d always have trouble with the giant, but at least he’d called him alpha. Even if it was spoken in the same tone as one would say “asshole,” it was still a start. And as the working alpha on the scene, he needed to handle clean-up, as it was, instead of going with his mate like his heart urged him to do.
Landa, go with Big G. Make sure Margie is taken care of.
She nodded, running to catch up to the giant.
He raised his muzzle to one of the enforcers—was it Jace? Show me where the others are. And you, he nodded at another male, dispose of the body. Just remember where you put it.
“Yes, alpha.”
No wonder Sid enjoyed being alpha, having everyone bow and scrape when they previously rolled their eyes would go to anyone’s head. Working on not letting that happen would take some effort, but no way did he want to turn out like power-hungry Sid. He’d take a lesson from Margie on how to run a pack any day over how Sid had controlled his.
What should he do with his former band of enforcers? As he loped behind Jace he saw dark lumps upon the ground. Thunder rolled, closer than before, the wind joining in with its own accompaniment to the impending storm. He knew what he wanted to do with Sid’s enforcers, but what would Margie do? This was her pack and territory they had invaded, not his. Not yet, anyway.
The strong coppery scent of blood thickened the air around the bodies as Zane drew closer.
Are they dead?
“Two of them. The others are just unconscious.”
Which two?
Jace pointed out two lumps and Zane sniffed them. Yep, dead. One was a carbon copy of Sid, minus the magical abilities, while the other had been good, forced to follow orders he didn’t agree with. What a waste.
They’re dead.
Jace nodded. “They met up with Big G. He weren’t too happy about Margie going down.”
Zane knew the feeling. Do you have a holding cell?
“This ain’t no prison.”
Where do you put lawbreakers?
“That’s what prisons is for.”
I mean, where do you put pack members who don’t follow the rules?
The enforcers glanced at each other, then at him, four identical confused looks.
Okay. Do you have a locked shed or something to put them in? Something they can’t break out of and isn’t close to the pack?
“The tack shed. We keep it locked so the humans can’t get in.”
Good. Take the ones that are alive to the shed. Make sure there isn’t anything in there they can use to break out. And take their torcs off.
“Why their torcs?”
I’ll explain later. And take the one I knocked out to the infirmary. He won’t give you trouble.
“You sure about that?”
I know for a fact the locked doors down there are secure. He won’t hurt anyone. And you, he pointed to a thick-set blond, bury these two. In separate graves. Mark them so we can find them again.
“Right on it, alpha.”
He watched Margie’s enforcers carry out his orders, watched as they lifted Sid’s enforcers into a fireman’s hold. Zane wanted nothing more than to run back to the ranch house, run down the infirmary stairs, and ensure Margie lived. But being an alpha, a good alpha, involved being a reliable leader, which meant he walked with the enforcers until they got to the tack shed.
After ensuring anything that could be used as a weapon was removed and the enforcers had no questions, he walked to the back door of the ranch house, intending to enter.
Which was a little hard to do with paws instead of hands. Change and walk to the infirmary in his birthday suit, or sit outside waiting for someone to help him? No choice at all.
Summoning his inner human, he forced the fur into hiding, exchanging wolf for human flesh. Sparks, like charged electrodes on his muscles, spread through his body, growing stronger in intensity as the change progressed.
Bones shortened, human flesh surrounded muscles, fur disappeared into body hair. Amazing. And he did it while the moon was still full. Hidden behind storm clouds, but still full. Even if he did stand buck naked in front of a ranch house full of pack members he’d just met tonight. Nope. No problem with the ass flash. For the second time in his life, he changed shape of his own free will. And that meant something.
Was that pull in his side normal when he changed of his own free will? He looked at the ache, surprised to see his gunshot wound open and trickling blood. Looked like an adrenaline rush masked pain. Good thing he was heading toward the infirmary.
Zane twisted the knob and entered into the large den, located at the back of the ranch house. He grabbed a leather pillow off the couch with “Cowboys Do It Best” written in large red letters, stuck it in front of his privates and walked down the hall, searching for the door to the infirmary.
Which door was it? They all looked the same. Wood paneling occasionally interspersed with a brass doorknob.
Wait. That one looked familiar. He paused, drawing in a deep breath, scenting Margie behind the frame. A keypad nestled against the wood paneling, a red light at the top of it blinking a warning. Yep. That was the correct one. Right when he reached for the knob, the door flew open, banging him in the nose with a bone-crunching thud. Zane dropped the pillow as he grabbed his throbbing nose Shit, that hurt.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry. Zane! Are you okay?” Margie’s voice cracked, all hoarse and sandpapery. “Let me see.” One hand touched the back of his wrist, soft and gentle, and he did as she asked, dropping his hands, tears streaking down his cheeks and dropping off his chin. A real masculine façade.
“I’m so sorry. At least it doesn’t look broken, but let’s let Allen take a look at it. Okay?”
“Fine. How are you?” A hundred hammers banged away in his nose. It might not be broken, but it sure hurt like hell. He dashed away the tears, not wanting anyone to think he cried over things like an almost-broken nose. Or seeing his mate alive and well.
Margie’s eyes went wide and she glanced down his body, small tinges of red firing her cheeks. “I’m fine. My throat’s a little sore. Looks like you dropped something.” She bent, picking up the leather pillow. One side of her mouth escaped her control, turning up in a lopsided grin.
“Come on, cowboy. Let’s get you some chaps so you can go riding.”
Chapter Seven
Margie stood outside the door of the tack shed, taking deep breaths, listening to the rain pounding against the umbrella, dripping into puddles at her feet. The thing she hated most about her job was passing judgment on pack members. Luckily for her, her pack ran a step up from flawless, which meant this judgment passing she was about to do was her first. Glancing at Zane, who held the umbrella, she smiled. He stoo
d by her. He would support her, from now until they died. Her mate.
Dressed in another pair of baby blue scrubs with little blue hospital slippers stained with mud on his feet, he nonetheless oozed masculine strength. Despite the situation, she felt warmth flow to her core.
Damn mating hormones.
Despite the hormones, not because of them, she wanted Zane with a passion she never thought she’d have for anyone. And he felt the same way about her. Tonight they would join their bodies and souls for eternity, forming a bond that would never die.
Right after they took care of passing judgment on Sid’s enforcers.
Zane put a hand on her shoulder, nodding once. Thankfully Sid’s energy blast did not cause permanent injuries to her mate. Under the scrubs, scratches marred his skin, overlaying bruises, and his gunshot wound—what little remained of it—had reopened. At least that injury was small enough to need only a bandage, not another line of stitches. Another day or so and he’d be good as new.
You can’t stand out here forever. Zane whispered in her mind.
I can try.
Putting off the inevitable made her look weak when she was anything but. Margie shut her eyes, dragged breath into her lungs through her tortured throat, shook her shoulders and exhaled. She nodded to Jace to open the door.
Big G and Jace walked in first carrying lanterns, shook off droplets of water, and stood on either side of the door, two guardians allowing Margie and Zane to walk between them. Bill and Ron, two of her enforcers, stood outside in the rain. Sid’s enforcers huddled along the back wall, eyes blinking in the sudden light.
“I’m Margie McLean, the pack leader of London.” Her voice cracked and she cleared it. Not like it helped. “I regret to inform you that you will be tried for threatening my pack and the attempted kidnapping of one of my pack members. How do you plead?”
Their pleas should be interesting. After listening to Zane’s suggestion and the elders, she knew what to do. Provided they answered her correctly.
One of the three crawled forward, sitting back on his knees when he reached her, tilting his head to the side to offer her his neck. “I am guilty, but only because I was forced to do Sid’s bidding. That does not excuse my actions. Do with me as you will. But if you would grant me a final request, please tell me why Zane is standing there.”
“Zane is my mate. He stands with me. This is his pack too.”
Three heads snapped toward Zane, identical wide-eyed looks of shock written across their faces.
“Any other pleas?”
Their gazes shot back to hers before dropping like good little submissives. Although calling what should be three alphas submissive seemed an oxymoron. Rather like a vegetarian werewolf.
Zane only told her one of the enforcers appeared to agree with Sid, while the others hated him. And then he refused to tell her which was which, wanting her to have an unbiased opinion on the matter. She assumed Mark was one of the good guys, seeing how he occupied his own locked infirmary room instead of being thrown in the tack shed, but she had yet to speak to him. Looking into dirty, stunned faces, she had trouble deciding which of the three took Sid’s side.
A second enforcer went with the crawl and throat-offer routine, leaving one enforcer pressed against the back wall. His eyes narrowed on her, his gaze dropping as he walked to where she stood, stopping behind the kneeling enforcers.
“I’m not groveling like they are. I agree I’m guilty of what you accuse us of, but I’m not asking forgiveness. I did what I had to do, and I have no regrets. And if that means that you and Zane are going to kill me, then so be it. But I’m not apologizing.”
She’d be willing to bet good money this one was the one who followed Sid out of his heart, not because he had to. The way he met her gaze, the tension coursing through his body, and his hands clenching and releasing, gave clues he would resist death to the very end.
“Do you know how to weave magic? How to bend it to your will?”
“Are you fucking nuts? No offense.”
So much for the earlier submissive eye drop. This guy was about as submissive as an eighteen-wheeler going downhill in an ice storm.
“I take it that’s a no?”
“Damn straight that’s a no. No fucking way would I ever learn magic.”
“Good deal. Go stand against the wall.”
He backed up, his gaze never leaving hers. A worthy adversary.
Is he the one? She asked Zane.
Does what we discussed with the elders still stand?
Yes.
You’re right. He’s the one. I don’t smell a lie on him, but that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth.
And the others? Do you smell a lie on them?
Zane sniffed the air. Nope. They’re telling the truth. They’re good males.
“Bill, Ron, escort these two away from here.” Margie gestured to the two at her feet. Water dripped off their hats as Bill and Ron led them away to her office to wait for their punishments.
“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name?” Margie took a step closer to the remaining enforcer.
“Christopher Maas.”
“Okay, Christopher.”
“It’s Chris.”
“Chris then. Your punishment is banishment. You will leave tomorrow morning and will not return. If we ever meet and you cross me again, I will kill you.” Margie held out her hand, forming a small ball of fire that cast flickering shadows on the wooden walls of the shed. Chris’s eyes popped wide as he tried to take a step backward, only to hit the wall. “Don’t underestimate me. Don’t see your expulsion as my weakness. Do you understand?”
His tongue darted out, licking his lips as he nodded. “I understand, alpha.” His gaze dropped to the floor.
Margie closed her fist, extinguishing the flame. “Good. My enforcers will bring you a cot, food and drink. It’s quite the storm out there, but it should be dry in here. Do you need your injuries tended to?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“Then we’ll leave you.”
Zane stepped out the door first, popping open the umbrella for her. What a gent.
“Big G, Jace. I want a guard on the door until he’s released tomorrow. Rotate shifts of two hours each.”
“Understood. Have a good evening, Margie. And you,” Big G pointed a tattooed finger at Zane, “take care of her.”
“You know I will.”
Talk about protective. Until Zane showed up, she never realized how much like a momma bear Big G acted. It gave an alpha female the warm fuzzies, it did.
But not anywhere close to the warm fuzzies Zane gave her. Who was she kidding? What she felt around Zane was nothing like what she felt at Big G’s words. Nope. Zane warmed her from the inside out, heated her core to boiling and made her want to throw him down in the mud and sex him up until they both fell over exhausted.
One round of sweaty, mind-blowing sex coming up.
Right after they informed Mark and the other two enforcers of their punishments.
How fast could she walk to her office? And the answer? Pretty darn fast. Mud splashed on her jeans, covering her boots. Sideways blowing rain splattered against her raincoat, drenching her legs through the denim. So much for the umbrella. It blew inside out, a skeleton of metal ribs and cloth wings. Right as a crash of thunder sounded, they made it to the back porch of the ranch house. Zane dropped the broken umbrella on the porch.
Once inside, Margie stripped off her raincoat and hat, hanging them on the coat tree by the door. Office, more judging, and then for dessert, what she knew would be the best part of the meal—sex with Zane. Her boots clicked a frantic beat against the wood floor, followed by Zane’s blue muddy slippers squishing out a melody.
Bill and Ron stood outside her office, the door open. The two former enforcers sat in leather chairs in front of her desk, talking in hushed tones. White stuffing stuck up in globs from the back of the left chair. What would they think of her housekeeping staff? She gave herself a mental s
hake. Why did she care? She was here to judge them for attacking her pack, not take their opinions on interior decorating.
All whispering stopped the minute she walked through the door, drying up like a stream in a desert.
“I’m afraid I didn’t catch your names?” When would her voice stop sounding like a choking frog?
“Paul.”
“John.”
“Paul and John. As your punishment for attacking my pack, you will be indebted to us. Because you were forced to follow Sid, your lives are spared. For a period of two months, you will be our servants, the lowest members in the pack. At the end of that time, you will be allowed to join our pack if you want. Do you understand?”
Two identical bobbles marked her words.
“Good. What is your decision?”
The nodding twin bobbles glanced to each other, then back to her. Wasn’t she polite not to eavesdrop on their silent conversation?
“We’ll stay.”
“Good choice. Bill and Ron will escort you to your rooms in the infirmary where you’ll be under lock and key.”
A couple of minutes later she and Zane stood alone in the office. Alone. Together. A predatory smile lit his face as he backed to the door and shut it, the lock sliding home with a resounding thud. So much for talking to Mark about his judgment. Not like she was complaining.
She grew wet as Zane stalked toward her, a wolf on the hunt for his prey.
“It’s just us. No going back.” His voice, deep and rough around the edges, caressed all the nerve endings in her body.
“I know. You ready?”
“Babe, I was born ready.”
Margie shook her head. “That’s just wrong.”
He grinned as he pulled the scrub top over his head, dropping it on the floor. Muscles rippled with the movement, the bunching of his biceps enticing her. Springy dark curls peppered his chest, leading in a line over a sexy six-pack and disappearing below his scrub bottoms. Talk about being built. And all that strength and power was heading her way. Did she actually lick her lips like a starving dog?
“Do you like what you see?” Zane’s dark hair framed his face as he took another step closer, untying the string that held the scrub pants around his waist.
After the Moon Rises Page 13
