by JC Holly
City Wolves 3
Pack War
Victor Bailey and Farrell Doyle are longtime friends and pack mates. While they were attracted to each other from the moment they met, neither wanted to risk the friendship. That changes one night after an attack from a rival pack leaves Farrell wounded and Victor risking his life to protect him. They decide to try a casual relationship. If it doesn't work, it's no big deal, right?
At the same time a pack war is raging between their pack, ran by the powerful Ethan, and a rival pack ran by the sly Gabriel. Gabriel will stop at nothing to steal Ethan's territory from him, and doesn’t give a damn who he hurts along the way.
Will Victor and Farrell's friendship weather a relationship? And will the war leave anything remaining of their pack?
Genre: Alternative (M/M or F/F), Paranormal, Vampires/Werewolves
Length: 35,042 words
PACK WAR
City Wolves 3
JC Holly
EROTIC ROMANCE
MANLOVE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance ManLove
PACK WAR
Copyright © 2013 by JC Holly
E-book ISBN: 978-1-62242-191-6
First E-book Publication: January 2013
Cover design by Christine Kirchoff
All cover art and logo copyright © 2013 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
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DEDICATION
For my Sweetie.
PACK WAR
City Wolves 3
JC HOLLY
Copyright © 2013
Chapter One
Victor came through the small cabin’s front door backward, the naked body of Farrell held tight in his arms. The door gave way easier than Victor expected, and he collapsed to the floor, Farrell on top of him.
“Shit!”
He somehow got his feet under him again and hefted them both back upright. There was a small couch to one side of the dimly lit room, and Victor carefully lay Farrell on the dusty cushions before running back to the door and pushing it shut. The catch was broken from his entry, and the door began to swing open again, letting in the cold air.
“Damn it all to hell.”
He kicked it shut again and dragged a chair across from a small table set and jammed it under the handle. It wouldn’t stop the approaching Weres, but it would slow them down and give him enough time to see to Farrell’s leg.
He ran back to his fallen friend and pulled a knife from the back of his jeans and jammed it into the arm of the couch. The first wolf to enter the cabin was getting it in the eye.
The wound on Farrell’s leg was deep, but clean. The Weres had caught him before he had chance to shift into wolf form and hamstrung him, leaving Victor with no choice but to distract the pair and make a break for it with his fallen friend.
The rules of the pack war may have called for no guns, but they’d never mentioned flashbangs. His ears were still ringing from the explosion, but the Weres had got the brunt of it, leaving Victor with a head start.
He had no illusions that he’d got away, though. He knew firsthand how good a Were’s senses were, even for newbies like the two outside.
“How does it look?”
Victor glanced up to find Farrell looking back at him. “I’ve seen worse. Done worse, too.”
Farrell flicked his scruffy red hair out of his eyes and shifted positions on the couch, wincing as moved his leg. “Don’t suppose this dive has a needle and thread?”
“Probably not. Luckily I do.”
He reached over to his hunting knife and unscrewed the pommel, then slid out the small survival kit it held.
Farrell laughed. “Always prepared,” he said, his Irish twang giving away his roots. “Don’t suppose there’s a pair of boxers in there?”
Victor smirked and tried not to glance at Farrell’s more than adequate cock. “Let’s focus on the leg first, eh?”
“That, and the circling Weres.”
Victor turned his head so his ear faced the door. They really were new. Twigs snapped, bushes rustled. Wolves were one of the stealthiest creatures on the planet. These guys were more akin to elephants in hobnail boots. They’ve still got fangs and claws, though.
“I’ll deal with Gabriel’s boys. They’re five minutes away from regretting waking up this morning.”
He threaded the needle and got to work on Farrell’s leg, working as quickly as he could. The bravado was more for his friend’s benefit, but he was pretty confident, still. He’d been a Were for many a year, and had sparred with Paul, the head of the pack’s enforcers more than once. Hell, he’d even taken Ethan on one night after a few drinks and managed to last more than ten seconds. Most didn’t pass five.
Farrell stayed silent while Victor worked, and he didn’t blame him. Having a leg stitched up with coarse thread, a regular needle, and no anesthetic was hardly the best sensation in the world. Victor worked as fast as he could and tried his hardest not to stare at Farrell’s exposed cock and balls.
When he was done he tore the sleeve from his shirt and tied it tight around the wound.
�
��It’s not perfect, but it’ll do till I can get you back to the car.”
“No point. I heard one of ’em tear out the tires before I passed out.”
“Fuck.” He tossed Farrell his cell phone. “Let Avani know what’s happening and where we are. She’ll send someone or come herself.”
Farrell started keying in the number of the club the pack owned while Victor removed his clothes. When he was naked he tossed his boxers at Farrell. “There. Ask and ye shall receive.”
Farrell laughed. “In that case I’d also like a cold Guinness and a blow job from a tall Swede.”
“Tell Avani. You might get lucky.”
Victor took a deep breath and walked over to the door as Farrell finally got through to Avani. The chair holding the door shut broke in half under one kick, and Victor let out a howl as he shifted to wolf form.
“Yeah, we’re gonna need a cleanup crew,” Victor heard Farrell say as he stalked outside. “I’m down, and Vic’s about to make two puppies wish they were never bit.”
* * * *
For the longest time only snarls and yelps could be heard outside of the cabin. Farrell was confident that Victor was the one doing most of the snarling, but even so he shuffled down the sofa and pulled the knife from the arm, just in case. The movement made his leg twinge, but it wasn’t too bad. He’d had worse, and would live to see worse still, no doubt.
Victor’s boxers lay on the couch cushion next to him, and the memory of Victor throwing them over had Farrell smirking. The memory of his friend’s cock had him thinking other thoughts, too.
“Nuh-uh,” he muttered under his breath. “Not going there.”
They had been friends for almost as long as Farrell had been in America. He’d arrived four years ago, joined Ethan’s pack a month or so after, and befriended Victor instantly. They had got on like a house on fire from the very start, despite their differing attitudes.
Victor viewed his Were side as a means to an end. He loved the increased ability and more powerful senses, but only shifted into his wolf form when absolutely necessary. Farrell, on the other hand, saw his transformation into a Were quite differently.
He’d always been a very nature-oriented person, and being granted the power to become a wolf at will was like a gift from a higher power. He spent as much time in his new form as he could, and often disappeared into the woods for days, living as a wolf.
I’ll change his mind yet. Farrell grinned in the darkened cabin. The thought of them both stripping off and delving deep into the forest for a day or two was a wonderful one, to be sure. If only Victor would see it that way.
The woods had quieted again. Farrell turned to the door and concentrated. His hearing wasn’t as good in his human form, but it was still better than the average person’s. Footsteps and panting came from close by, but only from one wolf. A moment later a huge black wolf walked into the cabin, patches of its fur slick with blood. Farrell looked away as Victor shifted, then turned back again.
“I take it you won, then.”
Victor shrugged as he wiped the worst of the blood away with his hands. “Like I said. Amateurs. Avani say when she’d be up?”
“She said they’re swamped tonight, since it’s a full moon. She’ll send someone when she’s able, but it could be a few hours.”
Victor nodded and began to dress. He was always quiet after a fight. Farrell knew he didn’t like killing any more than Farrell did. In a war it was sometimes necessary, though.
“You saved my life, mate,” Farrell said. “Thanks.”
Victor paused and smiled, his one-sleeved shirt halfway on. “You’d have done the same.”
“Eh, true. O’ course, if they’d given me five seconds to change I’d have done ’em in myself.”
“Of course.”
Victor bent to grab his jeans, giving Farrell a good look at his bare ass. Farrell threw the boxers at him.
“Cover up, Vic. Unless that’s a come-on.”
Victor laughed and pulled on the pants. “You wish.”
A tightening in his balls had Farrell glance down to find his cock stiffening. Well, that’s new…He felt heat in his cheeks as he glanced around for something to cover up with.
“Whoa.”
Farrell looked up to find Victor staring at his cock.
“Tell me about it,” Farrell said as he brought a leg up to obscure the sight. “Sorry, mate. Has a mind of its own. Must be the adrenaline.”
Victor shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “That, or you want to thank me for saving your life.”
“Ha!” Farrell tossed the hunting knife to the floor near Victor. “I’ll buy you some new thread and a pint later. That’ll cover it.”
Victor stooped to collect his knife and tucked it back into his pants. “You must have thought about it in the past, though. Us, I mean.”
Farrell chewed his lip. “Yeah, maybe.” He wasn’t going to admit to the nights he’d spent jerking off to the idea of either fucking or being fucked by him. “I mean, we get on well, and we’re both into guys. Sure I’ve thought about it. Once or twice.”
Victor sat beside him. “Glad I’m not the only one.” He started to color. “I mean, I thought about it at first, when we first met.”
“Yeah, that’s what I meant, too.” Farrell cleared his throat. “Looks like the adrenaline’s getting to you, too.”
Victor glanced down at the growing tent in his pants. “Huh. I guess so.”
The cell phone vibrated softly on the chair arm, and Farrell snatched it up, glad of the distraction. It was Avani, the pack’s second-in-command, under Ethan.
“Hey, what’s the news?”
“Top o’ the mornin’ ta ye,” Avani chirped in a terrible attempt at an Irish accent. “Everyone still breathing?”
“You’re lucky I’m miles away, woman,” Farrell said. “How would you like it if I put on an Indian accent?”
Avani just laughed. “Okay, so most of our boys and girls are out on surveillance or taking on more of Gabriel’s newbies. I’ll head up there myself once my relief arrives. Think you can hold out for a few more hours?”
Farrell glanced at Victor, who stood and walked about the cabin, sizing up the condition. He moved liked a wolf even in his human form, and if the fight had taken anything out of him he wasn’t letting it show. Farrell’s own leg was on the mend, too. He couldn’t shift, but with Victor’s knife in his hand he could still raise hell.
“Yeah, we can manage here. Might have to make myself some clothes out of the curtains, though. Left ’em by the now-tireless car.”
“So you’re naked?” Avani said, amusement in her voice. “I wonder what two gay guys, one of them naked, could get up to in a cozy cabin in the hills.” She laughed. “Wish I could get there sooner so I could watch.”
“Get a DVD, Avani,” Farrell said. “And watch it after you’ve picked us up.”
He hung up the phone and tossed it onto the small table beside the couch. “She has a one-track mind, that woman.”
Victor looked over from his vantage point by the opposite wall’s window. “What did she say?”
“The usual. She thinks all gay guys do is fuck all day long.”
“You mean we don’t?”
Farrell smirked. “She really needs a boyfriend.”
“Or a better vibrator.”
“So how’s the cabin?”
Victor shrugged. “This place is pretty defensible. The door can be barricaded again with another chair, and these windows are too small to climb through in either form. With a low light and these drapes pulled, we can hold up till Avani arrives.”
“Sounds romantic. I’ll get the candles.”
He laughed and came back to the sofa, something in his hand. “Better idea.”
He handed Farrell a pack of cards, then reached over and pulled a small table in front of them. Farrell laughed and opened the pack and began shuffling.
“I’d suggest strip poker, but I’m already at a disadvantage.”
“Regular poker it is, then.” Victor flexed his fingers. “I’m quite the card shark.”
Farrell just grinned and split the deck.
Chapter Two
Victor arrived back at his apartment some six hours after Farrell had slaughtered him at poker for the first time. By the time Avani had arrived a few hours after, he was glad they hadn’t been playing for money.
After the usual checks for signs and scents of entry, he let himself in and headed straight for the shower to wash the residual blood and dirt away.
After securing Farrell in Avani’s SUV, she and Victor had dragged the wolf corpses into the old cabin and thrown some furniture about. If anyone happened past, they’d think the wolves broke in in search of food then fought to the death. It wouldn’t hold up to any real scrutiny, but it didn’t need to.
The water was hot as hell, but the dried blood still stayed put. Victor scrubbed at it with a scouring brush, and it started to shift, along with the stresses of the evening.
What had started off as a simple surveillance shift had quickly turned to crap. In the end he and Farrell had come out on top, though, and Gabriel was short two wolves. He made a note to take over some fresh bandages when he headed over after the shower. Hopefully when his friend was clothed, things wouldn’t be as awkward as they were earlier.
Thoughts swam through his head as he showered. Him and Farrell on the sofa, kissing, touching…He shook his head hard, spraying the walls of the cubicle with water.
“Not happening.”
Despite how much I want it.
