BirthDate (La Patron, the Alpha's Alpha)

by Addae, Sydney

  Yep, he was her rascal and there was one way to deal with him. “There will be no discussion later. I’ve given you my answer. I love you Silas Knight but at times you’re an ass. I’m tired. Do we have a monitor in our room?” She stood and turned away from him.

  “Not yet. But I like the idea of being able to watch you sleep. I’ll take care of that when I …what?”

  “Hmmm?” she looked over her shoulder as her pants followed her blouse to the floor. Clad in her see through bra and thong, she turned to face him. “What, what?” she said in the same tone he had used when he asked for more children.

  His eyes blazed emerald green as he shifted in his chair. The sound of his zipper being yanked down filtered through the monitor. “Sweet Bitch, you’re killing me,” he growled low.

  “Really? I thought I was giving you something to take with you, but if this is hurting you, I’ll stop.” Turning, she bent, giving him an eyeful of her ass while she picked up her clothes.

  “No.” His shout had taken on a gravelly quality. “This is what I need. No clothes, Jasmine. Take everything off… please.”

  Now that she started this game she wasn’t sure how to proceed. She had only meant to teach him a lesson but the feral gleam in his eyes told a different tale. Her lover was turned on and his wolf as well. Going on instinct, she pulled off her bra slowly and then peeled her panties down her legs.

  “Damn bitch, you are so fucking beautiful.” The awe in his voice set off sparks in her.

  She looked at her body and saw the few extra pounds from her last pregnancy. Her breasts were larger than she’d like, and in her mind her hips were too big. But when he looked at her, like a man starved and she was the meal he craved, she felt sexy, gorgeous.

  “Dance for me.”

  In the next moment soft music played in the background from his room. She closed her eyes to pick up the beat and moved her hips in time with the rhythm. A few seconds later she opened her eyes and gasped at the ferocity of his gaze. Blatant hunger was stamped across his face. His need flowed fast and hard through their link. She rolled her hips and lifted her breasts toward him in time with the music.

  His harsh breathing spurred her on. She mimicked sexy moves she’d done in bed with him loving the sounds of his growls and panting.

  “I’m so hard… I need you,” he panted.

  Feeling his need through their link she was conflicted and glanced at him. They had a rule; neither was allowed to come without the other. She wasn’t as turned on as him but maybe she could do something, although she had no idea what. He had thrown away all of her vibrators and sex toys. “Do you want to … make yourself come?”

  He shook his head. “No. Not without you. This is the sweetest torture and I brought it on myself. Should have remembered women do not fight fair and there is no way to win against your weapons.”

  He raked his hand through his hair and yanked hard. His eyes were a brilliant emerald as he took in gulps of air. Fascinated, she watched him struggle to bring his body down. After several deep breaths he closed his eyes for a few as if seeing her hurt.

  She slipped on her pants and top and stuffed her thong and bra in her pocket. Dinner was going to be a little late, she needed to change.

  A long raggedy sigh whistled through his lips. He opened his eyes and they were a dark green. She exhaled, feeling better seeing him in control.

  “I have to take a shower to calm down.” He stood and it was her turn to burn at the sight of his naked glory. The veins on his hard penis pulsed. She wet her lips at the sight of his wasted pre-cum. A heavy throb settled between her legs as she hungrily watched him walk off. She almost missed his last words.

  “Good night, Sweet Bitch, you don’t fight fair.”

  Chapter 5

  At five o’clock the next evening, three teams of three stepped onto the area above the lab. Traffic had been a bitch and they had arrived from Northern Pennsylvania later than they originally planned. Wearing heavy haze mat equipment, they moved quickly to their targeted area and placed the small heavy equipment on the ground. Within moments the soft whirring of the drills filled the air. The twins and Leon separated from their teams and with deft precision assembled the bombs.

  The rest of the group stood on the perimeter of the woods waiting. Asia gazed around the area. Tendrils of apprehension raced down her spine. They were not alone out here. Tilting her head slightly, she inhaled and caught an old, yet familiar scent.

  Damn. They sent Mikko. The two of them had been competitors in the field for years. Although he never said, she knew he resented her high ranking and would take her out in a second if he could. By sending Mikko, her former owners sought to even the playing field. Which meant there was something below they did not want to lose.

  Her mind raced as she developed and discarded a course of action. It seemed each time she was close to her goal something, in this case someone, stood in her path. She glanced at the seemingly relaxed pose of La Patron and made a decision.

  “Sir?” she said through their link.

  He glanced at her.

  “We are not alone.”

  “I know.”

  She nodded and tried to relax. If she had not told him he may have become suspicious, maybe even accused her of ulterior motives. Blanking her mind and emotions had been the most valuable lesson she had learned through the years. La Patron must never know of her deep rooted rage and hatred of those who turned her into a mutilated animal. Or her anger at him. They all lied to her. Wanted to use her. La Patron dangled freedom in front of her like a carrot and then sent his mate who snatched it away when she branded Asia that last time in the lab. She rubbed her right forearm where Mistress Jasmine’s fingerprints formed a tattoo, linking them together.

  “He is part wolf as you but his wolf is sick. He does not embrace that part of him.”

  She had no idea what Mikko did or didn’t do. They never talked. But she’d heard stories of his brutality over the years.

  “Do you know him? Can you call him closer? I would like to meet him.”

  “He is Mikko. A highly trained assassin. His kill count is almost as high as mine, for him to be here is troubling. He may not come if I call, we are not friends.”

  She heard La Patron’s sigh. “So they sent the big guns for me. I should be flattered. Is he the only one here?”

  “Although I cannot sense any others, I believe there are more. He is good but you are La Patron. They know he cannot win against you alone. They must have a new masking gadget that we were not aware of. We are probably surrounded.”

  “But they offered him up, nice bunch. Step forward.”

  She moved forward along with the others. A cool swish of air touched her back and then a blast of blue fire streaked backward from the invisible circle she was now enclosed in. The trees and grass remained intact. Human screams of agony filled the air confirming her suspicions that a new tool had been created in her absence. The pain-filled sounds chilled her soul. She thanked the Goddess she had chosen to speak up.

  Another round of fire spread further back and more screams were heard. She swallowed hard reworking her plan for escape. This small show of his power proved La Patron was not one to play with. Maybe she should wait until after the mission. Things would be more relaxed. She eyed La Patron again as he raised his hands.

  The air inside the bubble became heavy and dark. Within seconds, outlines of those who were not a part of their team became visible. One second they were standing, the next they lay writhing on the ground, holding their heads. The Alpha’s men who stood near her ran forward and secured them. Dr. Passen had provided tools to remove and lock collars. Moments later the men lay prone, fully visible.

  The next moment they were wolves.

  “Bastards would use my own against me,” La Patron murmured as he strode forward.

  Frozen by equal measures of fear and determination, she watched as he stooped down to examine each wolf, touching a few and stroking others. Mentally she t
ook a step back from the sight and focused. She needed to get inside the lab by any means necessary. Her one link to her past was hidden in the stone work of the janitor’s closet.

  Last night when La Patron pulled her from the assignment, she wanted to scream. She’d worked so hard, given them as much information as she could, done everything within her power to return to this lab. To fulfill her vow to the Mistress she needed the contents of that box.

  She sensed movement behind her and jumped, spinning in the air. More wolves trotted forward, their gazes locked on La Patron. Moving out of their way, she took a step backward, and then another, each time hoping no one noticed. Mikko was still out there, wounded no doubt, but healing at an accelerated rate as her kind often did. Soon he’d be up again and deadly as ever. She needed to get to him and remove the passkey that would allow her to enter the lab through the tree. Exhaling she sent a quick message to La Patron praying he was too distracted with the wolves to pay her much attention.

  “Mikko is up, I’m going to take him out.” She spun and took off in the direction of her former associate. Within a few feet she stopped. He had been closer than they realized and had taken a major hit from the fire.

  “Freeze bitch,” he growled, pointing a Primp, a powerful, modified weapon they used in the field, at her. She knew better than anyone the damage it could do. “Umph,” he groaned as chunks of charred flesh and skin was pushed aside as new skin emerged. Although he was in excruciating pain, his hand never wavered.

  “There’s…a bount…bounty on your head.” He pulled his leg upright and she saw the gleam of metal covered in blood before the repair process began. Sweat beaded on his upper lip and forehead. His eyes were feverishly bright.

  “Really? How much?” She held her hands up, wondering how much time she had before someone came after her.

  He snorted and then wheezed. “Not… not worth this.” He coughed and spit bloody saliva. “What the…hell… did you do to… piss them off?”

  She stared at him in surprise. He was asking questions instead of shooting her or taking her in, which would save her time now that she thought about it. “I was captured during my last assignment dealing with La Patron and have been in a cell until yesterday. So you tell me what I did.”

  He coughed again while gazing up at her. “There’s…got to be…more to it. They’ve gone to a lot…lot of trouble to get you. Called a lot of us from the field for this hunt.”

  She froze, not caring for that news. “What? Why?” She wanted to stamp her foot in frustration. Was this going to be her lot in life? Close like Moses had been in the bible, but not close enough to experience living free. Now she had no choice. She needed to get the information from the lab and seek out her past. La Patron would kill her slowly if any of those assassins came within a mile of his compound. And she knew Logan and Meary would never stop until they killed her. Those two held grudges like super glue.

  “I don’t know why, I just asked you.” She glanced at his legs. With the exception of his pinkish and red skin, they appeared perfectly healthy and whole. He stretched one and then the other before standing slowly on the newly regenerated appendages.

  “Who else is looking for me?”

  “Logan, Meary and a few others. I was told to come here, didn’t know you’d be with La Patron. By the time I realized it was him, it was too late. He’d fired my ass.” He rotated his shoulder and then his neck without lowering or releasing the primp.

  She sensed Tyrese nearby. “What are you doing here? Did they send you for La Patron?” She raised her voice, sounding irritated.

  He frowned. “What?”

  “What do they have in the lab? Who’s down there?” She hissed knowing Tyrese could hear every word.

  “I don’t know who’s in the lab. It’s been –”

  “You’re lying. How did they know we were coming? How many of you were in the woods? How long have you been here?”

  “You really are a crazy bitch and should be put down like the dog you are. No wonder they want you dead or alive, you’ve flipped.” He raised the weapon and before she could blink, Tyrese slammed into him.

  “Sir, Tyrese and Mikko are fighting.” She took a step back edging toward Mikko’s small backpack.

  “I thought you were going to take care of it,” Silas said.

  Unsure which way his mood swung, she opted for the truth, just in case he’d heard Mikko earlier. “He drew a weapon that would stop a sixteen wheeler and told me there is a large bounty on my head, dead or alive.” She went on to tell him everything else Mikko said for good measure. Now was not the time to have La Patron doubting her.

  “Wait until they are done and return with Tyrese.”

  She released a breath and turned her attention to the fight. La Patron’s certainty that Tyrese would win this battle was well placed. Even wounded Mikko put up a good battle. Tyrese punched him in the face so hard she was sure Mikko was broken. He spun, hit the ground and sprung up with a kick to Tyrese’s chest. He followed it with a roundhouse to Tyrese head, which spun the larger man. When Mikko picked up Tyrese and body slammed him on the ground she was impressed.

  Tyrese jumped up, grabbed Mikko by the neck, lifted and shook him like a rag doll. Seconds later Tyrese’s fingernails lengthened into claws piercing Mikko’s neck. The look of surprise on his face would forever be embedded in her memory. He knew he had lost the fight and that there was no way to recover from the blood pouring from his neck. A ghost of a smile appeared on his face and she thought he looked peaceful. Tyrese bulked up, ripped Mikko’s head from his body and tossed it aside before looking in her direction.

  Taking another step back, she eyed the weapon Mikko held and glanced at Tyrese. He was morphing back to his normal size, which was still much larger than her.

  “You okay?”

  She wanted to dance at the concern in his voice. “Yeah.” She picked up the palm sized device and showed it to him. “This is a primp. It’s modified…not a gun, but similar to a gun. One shot will stop a bull and the one behind him.”

  Tyrese stepped closer and looked. “Really? That’s what he was pointing at you?” He looked at her. “I wondered why you were just standing there.”

  “He was regenerating and was about to collect the bounty money on my head when you showed up. Good thing because I promised Mistress I would return to the compound when we’re done.” She looked at him with a wry smile. “Thanks.”

  He nodded and stooped to look inside Mikko’s small backpack. She tried to see the contents from over his shoulder. “What’s this?” He held up a black pen that sent a thrill of excitement through her.

  Once again, years of masking her true feelings served her well. “I’m not sure, let me see? A pen?” She said after flipping it over a couple of times deactivating the timer. She handed it to him and he waved it off while pulling out what looked like a calculator. After placing the pen in one of her pockets, she stared silently as he tapped on the calculator. It was new. But if Mikko had it, it was something she wanted to know more about.

  “Maybe we should let Matt or Passen have a look at these things,” she said preferring the deadly items be put away for now.

  He nodded, then put everything back into the bag and closed it. “Good idea.” They returned to the circle where La Patron held court. She was shocked at the number of wolves trying to get close to him. There had to be over thirty.

  “Damn,” Tyrese said handing her the backpack. He waded through the wolves and stationed himself in front of La Patron. Tyrone and Leon followed suit and pretty soon the wolves appeared to be more organized. Without opening the bag she squeezed the supple leather searching for an oval stone. The newer assassins didn’t use the tree, but she and a few others still did.

  “Sir, by now they know our entry points and are prepared,” she said to see if he understood what was happening. They had released the wolves from below, or at least some of them. As stalling tactic went, it was a good one.

  “I am awa
re of that. Do you have an alternative plan?” he snapped. She sensed his frustration through their link.

  “Not at the moment, Sir. Other than kicking in the front door, we need to rethink this.” She paused. “These wolves weren’t burned. I wonder where they came from. How far away? Also who was burned?”

  “I don’t need questions. I need answers. I am sending these wolves to the infirmary, some are in bad shape. Come and look, do you recognize any?”

  The last thing she wanted to do was look into the face of wolves who had suffered alongside her for years. The guilt and impotent rage at not being able to help those much weaker had eaten at her until she built a wall so high she no longer saw or felt much of anything.

  She moved toward the group of wolves and inhaled. None of them smelled familiar, but she had been gone for a while and that might be the reason. Still…there should be something familiar. Curious, she walked among them, soothing, touching and inhaling their scents.

  “Leon?” she called him over.

  “Yeah?” he said sidling closer.

  “What do they smell like?”

  Leon inhaled and frowned. “Something’s off.” He leaned forward and inhaled again. “Sir, there is something wrong with their smell.” He walked to their bundle of supplies and searched until he pulled out a metal box.