by Raand, L. L.
She’d traveled close to an hour before the scent of Weres grew into a palpable force enshrouding her, and she knew the Were base was very close. She’d make contact soon. She slowed, listened, and—a minute later—sensed the first Were shadowing her, moving parallel at the same pace. A moment later, a second joined the first, and she slowed even more. If she ran, they would give chase, and she suspected when they caught her she would not have time to explain her presence before they tore out her throat. Up ahead, the black sky lightened unexpectedly, and an instant later she recognized the glow of firelight painting the undersurface of the clouds a pale yellow. A break in the heavy forest—a clearing. A big one. She was almost there. If she could reach the gates and—
A wolf leapt onto her back, massive jaws snapping closed on the muscle at the junction of her neck and shoulder. Pain exploded down her leg and she stumbled. The weight on her back and the agonizing pain threw her off stride and she went down, rolling, writhing, twisting—struggling to unseat the snarling wolf that dug claws into her side and bit down harder into her flesh. She tumbled onto her back, and a second fur-covered missile drove into her chest. A bone snapped, fire exploding in her chest. Claws tore at her belly and the sky overhead dimmed. She didn’t fight back—she was no match while in Were form for two wolves, and she hadn’t come to fight. She’d come to negotiate.
She went limp, lifted her muzzle, and exposed her throat. The jaws clamped into her shoulder eased only a fraction. Warmth trickled into her fur. Blood. Not the first she’d shed in service to her Queen.
Torren shed her wolf form and gasped, “Sanctuary.”
The last thing she saw were the burning coal-black eyes of an enraged wolf.
*
“I can come in with you,” Sasha said hesitantly. “You ought to have backup.”
“I do—that’s why you’re here. If I need you, you’ll know.” Katya stared out the windshield at the blank face of Nocturne, a windowless, nondescript one-story building bordering a huge parking lot filled with every type of vehicle from battered pickup trucks to sleek stretch limos. Everyone, rich and poor, human and Praetern, frequented the Vampire club in search of excitement and adventure. And pleasure. She imagined she could hear the ecstatic cries of human and Were hosts as they were catapulted into blinding orgasm, Vampires feeding at their necks and breasts and groins, injecting feeding hormones into their blood to force their release and made them forget the violence and pain of possession. She remembered the waves of heat and the cataclysmic release that punched through her whenever Michel took her. Her canines lengthened and pelt flared low on her belly. Her clitoris tightened, her sex pounded, and frenzy churned in her gut. “I’ll be fine.”
“I could wait a few minutes, come in later.” Sasha drummed the wheel and whined uneasily. She was a young soldier just finished sentrie training, dominant, but not nearly as dominant as Katya, which was why Katya had chosen her as a driver. The Alpha had ruled no one was to leave the Compound alone, and she had not wanted a more dominant wolf whose protective instincts would interfere with her plans. Sasha’s instinct was to obey her.
Katya let her wolf show in her eyes. “Wait for me here. I’ll be out by dawn. You don’t want to go inside.”
“I…I think I do. The things I’ve heard.” Sasha shuddered, and in the dim moonlight illuminating the inside of the Rover, her skin shimmered. “You want it. I can tell you do. Your call is strong.”
“Yes, I want it.” Katya’s lips drew back and her canines gleamed. She had been forced to do many things that haunted her, shamed her still, but she was not ashamed of this. “But I know what I’m asking for.”
“I want to go with you.” Sasha’s scent grew darker, richer.
Katya narrowed her eyes, recognizing the signs. Sasha wanted to tangle. “It’s not like tangling with another Were. You won’t be in control, you won’t even be able to give up control on your own. They take what they want, and they make you glad that they do.”
Sasha’s grip on the wheel tightened and her back arched abruptly. “I understand.” She turned her head, her gaze fixed just below Katya’s. “Please.”
“There’s no Pack law against you hosting a Vampire. Just be careful. Only one at a time. You’re not ready for more.” Katya snarled when Sasha’s eyes glowed amber. Her face gleamed with sex-sheen. She would go inside no matter what Katya said—she was already half-frenzied. “Come on. I’m not going to leave you alone in there.”
“I can handle myself,” Sasha snapped, her wolf’s pride affronted.
“Yeah, that’s what you think.” Katya jumped out of the Rover, loped around the front, and yanked open the other door. She grabbed the younger Were by the scruff and pulled her out. “You’ll do as I say for the rest of the night. Understood?”
The female ducked her head. “Yes, Katya.”
As soon as Katya stepped into the club, the scent of blood and sex rolled over her, and she growled softly. Next to her, Sasha gasped and her wolf rose sharply. Sasha’s control was not nearly strong enough to stand against the clouds of Were pheromones and blood thickening the air. She’d fall prey to the first Vampire who cast their thrall in her direction.
“Hold your wolf.”
“I’m trying,” Sasha gasped. “I need…”
“I know what you need.” Katya dragged her deeper into the room, away from the throngs of Vampires near the bar. Sasha was a young, strong, dominant female, and if her call wasn’t blunted soon, she would attract a group of Vampires who would bleed her dry. Katya looked around, saw a svelte, dark-haired Vampire leaning against a post, his red-ringed midnight irises pulsating beacons that tugged at Katya’s core. He watched them draw closer, his incisors slowly appearing over his lower lip. His thrall flowed over her, sweet and languorous. Her pelt flared and she readied. Still in her grip, Sasha shivered, deep in the mindless chaos of sex frenzy.
“Your friend seems eager.” The Vampire, beautiful as they all were, spoke to Katya, but his heavy-lidded gaze swept over Sasha.
“Sasha?” Katya murmured. Sasha radiated sex and need. “Him?”
“Yes.” Sasha’s eyes glowed, and her muscles rippled with the effort to contain her frenzy. “Hurry, help me.”
“She wants to host,” Katya said.
“And you, pretty young wolf?” He drew one finger along the edge of Katya’s jaw. “Perhaps you too?”
Pleasure lanced through her, her clitoris tingled, and she pulled her head back quickly. “Just her.”
“That’s not what your blood whispers to me.”
Katya snarled. “No.”
He smiled, crimson spreading through his gaze as he lowered his thick dark lashes. He pointed to the shadowy hallway behind them. “Come.”
“No. Out here.” Katya motioned to an empty sofa nearby. She had no idea how many Vampires were waiting to feed in the dark recesses of the club, but she couldn’t protect Sasha if she had to fight off Vampires who wanted her. She drew Sasha to the sofa and settled against the arm with Sasha reclining between her legs. She cradled Sasha against her chest, Sasha’s head on her shoulder, and glanced at the Vampire who stood over them. She pulled a long knife from a leather sheath on her thigh and let the blade catch the light. “I’m not leaving her, and if you try to drain her, I’ll take your head.”
He grinned wryly. “How is it you come here armed? You don’t trust us, my sweet wolf?”
“I’m not your wolf, and I’ll never trust you. Take her, but be careful with her.”
He looked intrigued. “And may I touch her?”
Sasha moaned, her thighs parting as she pushed up her T-shirt and fumbled to open her leather pants. Her cinnamon pelt line cut a stark swath down the center of her taut belly, and she writhed between Katya’s legs. “Please. Please. Now.”
The Vampire hissed and opened his pants. His pale, slender cock lay against his abdomen as if carved from ivory. Sasha’s sex hormones spilled over Katya, driving Katya’s need higher.
“Remember,�
�� Katya said, fighting her own rising frenzy, “endanger her and you will not see another sunfall.”
She never saw him move. He was between Sasha’s legs, his arms braced on either side of their bodies, his smile predatory and so beautiful. He could just as easily have taken Katya’s throat as Sasha’s, but he dipped his head and buried himself in Sasha in one swift strike. Sasha jerked and released with a feral growl.
The Vampire fed, his hips thrusting slowly as he came with each swallow. Katya stared at the ceiling, one hand clenched, the other pressed to the side of Sasha’s neck, feeling her pulse. Sasha writhed, her victus coating them both as she released over and over. Katya’s clitoris strained for contact, her pelt rippled beneath her skin. The muscles in her abdomen cramped from the strain of holding back.
Finally Sasha’s frenzy eased, and Katya growled, “That’s enough.”
He seemed not to hear her, his body shuddering. Were blood was so potent, the pleasure so much more than that obtained from a human host, that often young Vampires, and sometimes even the most controlled Risen, succumbed to bloodlust. Katya gripped his shoulder, let her claws dig into his flesh. “Release her.”
When he didn’t, she pressed her blade to his neck. “Last warning.”
“Patience, Wolf,” a cool voice from above murmured. “Richard, enough.”
Instantly, the male disengaged, closing the wound in Sasha’s neck with a swipe of his tongue. He sat up between Sasha’s legs, adjusted his trousers, closed his fly. Appearing dazed, he smiled at the Vampire standing over them. “My apologies, Senechal. I’d forgotten how sweet these females can be.”
Michel’s eyes were blue flames. Her sculpted cheekbones stood out sharp as the blade in Katya’s fist. Her power and fury washed over Katya with such force Katya’s sex convulsed and she nearly released.
The male glanced at Katya and reached for her neck. “And I still have one to go.”
Michel’s strike was swifter than Katya could follow. She jerked Richard off the sofa with a hand around his throat and held him suspended as if he were a feather. “She said she did not want to host for you. You know the rules.”
His eyes widened in terror.
Michel pulled him closer until her mouth was against his ear. Katya heard Michel’s whisper deep inside her mind.
And she belongs to me. Touch her, and you will spend a hundred years in a cell. I will put you there myself.
His eyes pleaded, and she let him go.
“My apologies, Senechal,” he whispered, backing away. He didn’t look in Katya’s direction. “I didn’t know. Thank you for your mercy.”
“Go.” Restraining her urge to take Katya instantly, Michel knelt beside the sofa and stroked Katya’s face. She’d known Katya was coming before Katya walked through the front door. She’d sensed her presence growing stronger for close to an hour, and she’d used that hour to feed from several hosts. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t have been able to wait to take her. Her hunger still lashed through her, a flame that gutted her endlessly, a hollow pain she couldn’t assuage no matter how many times she fed, no matter how many female Weres she held under her, no matter how many times they spread their essence over her. She’d waited in the shadows at the back of the bar, knowing Francesca would be watching. Francesca would know before the night was out that Katya was here and that Michel had not been able to stay away. But Francesca didn’t have to know that Michel had been waiting day after day, night after night, for her.
“What game are you playing, my little one?” Michel murmured.
Katya kissed her, her canines scraping Michel’s lip. “No game. I came for you.”
Michel smiled. “Not yet, but you will.”
Chapter Six
Misha crouched over the naked female lying in a pool of moonlight, her skin glowing as if she were the source of the silvery illumination herself. Her tousled dark hair framed a narrow face with bold arching cheekbones, an angular jaw ended in a firm, triangular chin, and almond-shaped blue eyes glinted like stones in a clear mountain pool. Her body was willowy and long-limbed, her hands delicate but strong looking. Her breasts were small, her hips narrow, and for an instant, Misha had the image of slender blades of grass shimmering in sunlight.
Shaking her head to dispel the potent sights and sounds and scents that left her reeling, Misha rasped, “Guard her while I get my weapon.”
From behind her, Gray, still in pelt, whined uneasily and Misha rose, staring down at the stranger. Something wasn’t right. The female had appeared out of the dark—a lone wolf, unannounced and uninvited in Pack territory—and the law was clear. Without free passage, she was the enemy. She had looked like a Were, but she didn’t smell like one. Even now, Misha couldn’t scent the tangy sweet odor of another wolf. Instead, her senses tingled with the aroma of spice and nectar, as if she had fallen into a field of wildflowers kissed with rain. A rush of pheromones misted her skin and she shivered. She realized she was still staring when she should be getting her weapon and, feeling slightly light-headed, glanced around the clearing. Mist clouded the forest, obscuring the familiar trees and brush. Dark shadows, elongated and vaguely menacing, flickered at the edges of her vision. Misha’s wolf growled and paced. Misha backed away from the stranger and checked on Gray. “Are you all right? Did you see—”
Gray’s lips pulled back in a snarl, and her sable ruff stood on end. Eyes glinting and belly low to the ground, she stalked the naked female, one measured pace at a time. Her shoulders and haunches tightened. Her gaze fixed on the female’s throat and her jaws parted. She was ready to spring. Ready to kill.
Misha jolted alert with an intense and unexplained need to protect the unknown female. Growling softly, she slid between the helpless prisoner and Gray’s nearly wild wolf. “She submitted. She is our prisoner. If she resists, subdue her. Don’t kill her.”
Gray flicked an ear but didn’t look away from her prey.
“Gray.”
The charcoal wolf reluctantly halted and took up a guard position.
“I’ll be right back.” Misha loped through the underbrush to the last outpost where she and Gray had both shifted in order to pursue the interloper on four legs. She grabbed her rifle from the hidden cache and yanked on a pair of pants, a heavy long-sleeved T-shirt, and boots. Tucking a spare rifle and clothes under one arm, she raced back to find Gray crouched low over the prisoner, growling steadily. The female’s eyes were open and startlingly blue, captivating even in the subdued moonlight. Or maybe…for a heartbeat, Misha could have sworn the moon danced in the female’s eyes, and she was there with her under a brilliant night sky, her wolf darting and daring and inviting. Misha gasped, a hot streak of pelt exploding down her midsection, and she quickly shouldered her rifle and pointed it at the stranger on the ground. “I have her, Gray. Your weapon is at the edge of the woods behind me. Get it.”
Gray continued to growl, vibrating with rage so potent Misha’s wolf surged to attention, sensing challenge. She and Gray were nearly the same age, but she had been promoted faster than Gray, and she outranked her in dominance by a slim margin. Any other wolf in Gray’s position would have obeyed her instantly, but Gray was as close to an outlaw as she could get without being declared a lone wolf. Since Gray and Katya had been liberated by the Alpha from captivity, Gray had been angry and unstable, almost feral. She constantly tested everyone in the Pack, and the Alpha had charged Misha to partner with her in the field and to help her find her balance again. Misha would have assisted her without the order—they were friends—but she was never really sure how to help her. Mostly she followed her instincts, and that seemed to be enough to keep Gray’s shaky control intact. This was the first time they’d faced an aggressive challenge, and Gray’s hold on her wolf was fragile. Or maybe she just didn’t want to control her. Misha couldn’t worry about Gray’s motivation—she didn’t care. Her wolf demanded obedience from a less dominant Pack member. That was the law of their world.
“Gray,” Misha barked, letting
her wolf’s power flare. “Back away, get your weapon.”
The charcoal wolf quivered and finally slowly retreated. In a flash, Gray turned and disappeared into the underbrush.
“Thank you,” the prisoner said, her voice as deep and melodious as a hawk’s call on the wind.
Misha stalked forward and leveled her rifle at the female’s head. “Who are you?”
Torren looked up into the onyx eyes of the white-and-gray wolf that had taken her down by the throat. Only now, the wolf was a young female, radiating strength, and quite beautiful. Mahogany hair fell to her shoulders in loose waves. Even in the moonlight, her eyes shone black as the River Ribl in Faerie, glinting with diamonds and putting the night sky to shame. She was average height, average build, her beauty even more in the way she held herself than in her smooth full breasts and tight muscular body. The force of her power was surprisingly clear and strong for someone so young, and Torren’s magic rose to her call. She’d tried to enchant her, to draw the Were into the mists of aerous and compel her to her will, but the Were’s shields were too strong. She had not been able to completely enchant or persuade her as she had Daniela. And, unlike her immunity to Vampire thrall, she was not immune to the Were’s power. Her magic glowed hot from the stroke of this wolf’s tongue along her senses.
The Were growled softly. “I will not bother to ask again.”
“I am Torren de Brinna,” Torren said softly, “and I seek an audience with your Alpha.”
