“You’re grasping,” White said.
“No, I’m determined.”
“The wolf succumbed to his injuries Saturday night,” Lydia blurted, cutting them short, “before we could get any leads from him.”
Hayden wasn’t surprised, and the flat-lined emotion irked him. “Was he guarded?”
Lydia shrugged. “That’s not relevant anymore.”
“Was he guarded?” He gritted his teeth together.
“No,” Reagan said, putting a hand over Lydia’s. “He was in critical condition from the moment he was brought in and wasn’t expected to recover. There was no need to put guards at his door.”
“No need?” Hayden bellowed. “You have someone in a hospital who could possibly ID a lead wolf in the rogue pack and you don’t think it’s relevant to protect him and the information he holds?”
White, Hayden’s only freaking ally in all this, folded his hands over the table and stared at them, while everyone else looked on, indifferent. Unmoved.
“Fine.” Hayden stood. “I’ll go into Bernal Heights. I’ll track down those rogues, starting with the church where Melina was being held. We won’t call out all the guards, only a select few. It’s not a full moon, so the ones who come with me should be born wolves.”
“One of the reasons you’re not fit to rule,” Lydia said. “You can’t even go into a hostile situation against our own kind unless it’s during a full moon. We can’t time our wars by the lunar cycle, Hayden. Somewhere deep down, don’t you think the pack would do better with a different Alpha? One who is a born wolf?”
A growl reverberated from Hayden’s chest and rumbled through the room. Adrenaline surged through him, mixing and churning with the vengeance in his gut. He charged around the table, aimed to take out Lydia’s throat. She stood from the chair, arms at her sides while Reagan crouched defensively in front of her.
Fine.
He’d take them both out.
White caught Hayden around the waist and held him back. Barely. The guy was abnormally strong for being so old—undeniably due to the Luminary bond the councilman had completed with his mate of five-hundred years.
“Is that what this has come to?” Hayden spat over White’s shoulder. “Has the council voted another Alpha?”
“No,” White said, holding on to Hayden tight. “The promotion ceremony still takes place tomorrow night. But we have to be honest. Under the circumstances”—he nodded at the stack of magazines and their lies—“it doesn’t look like you’re taking your position in the pack seriously.”
“The hell, you say.” Hayden jerked out of his friend’s grasp. “I feel like I’m the only one taking things seriously.”
Mad Dog remained seated, watching the drama in the room unfold. Hayden eyed him carefully, waiting for him to spring into action. But he didn’t.
“We’ve already voted to keep the guards at bay until Asher rears his head,” White said. “We’ll not vote until then.”
“That’s fine,” Hayden said, jerking the leather coat over his shoulders. “Since you still haven’t voted an Alpha, I’m still the heir apparent, which means I don’t vote on council business. I can go into Bernal Heights by myself.”
“You can’t shift.” White followed him to the door. “You won’t be able to defend yourself against them.”
“They attacked my Luminary, White. They’ll come back for her.” There. He said it. Laid it all out on the table.
White stared, his lips straining, the color matching his name.
“Justice has to be served,” Hayden went on, hardening himself for war. “If I have to take matters into my own hands to make sure another innocent isn’t harmed, so be it.”
He stormed out the door.
“If you do this, you won’t be voted Alpha,” Lydia shouted, stopping him cold. “Whatever chance you had will be gone.”
He turned back, hands clenching and unclenching. Mad Dog stared, his curious gaze flipping between Hayden and Lydia.
“You’re disobeying a direct order from the council,” White interjected, placing a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “Your interference could cause the pack dearly.”
“Guess you have to decide, my man.” Mad Dog raised his thick, bushy eyebrows. “Wouldn’t be so hard to remain cool for a few days, and see if we can get a bead on Asher.”
“No, it wouldn’t be hard,” Hayden said, the breath punching out of him. “But it also wouldn’t be right. If this is the way the pack is going—ruled by cowards who’d rather sit back while innocent non-shifters and turned wolves are harmed—I don’t want to be any part of it.”
“Watch it,” White said, grabbing Hayden’s elbow. “Don’t say something you’ll regret later.”
He looked his father’s dear friend in the face. “I can protect the pack from the outside. But I can’t be a part of the pack that refuses to take action when it’s needed.” He motioned to Lydia and Reagan, who stood as a solid wall on the opposite end of the room. “I won’t.”
As he spun on his heel and left the office, a dull ache spread through his chest, carving a hole.
Facing a rogue pack of wolves in human form had never been done before. Or if it had, the person hadn’t lived to tell.
But for the first time in his life, there was a cause greater than him.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Charging into his bedroom on the opposite end of the fifteenth floor, Hayden went right for the nightstand and pulled out his special-made Glock. He attached the silencer, loaded it with heavy silver bullets, and popped the top on a spare ammunition box.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked from behind him.
“I’m going after them on my own.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard right.” Hayden dumped the entire box into his pocket, and then shoved a Taser into the other. If bullets couldn’t bring down the rogues, volts of electricity would stun them until he could get the upper hand. Spinning around, he faced his only friend. “The council is afraid to stand against the rogues.”
Melina’s familiar feminine scent struck him as she brushed past Gabriel and entered the room. Her scent warmed him from the inside out. He steeled himself against the feelings stirring inside his chest. He had to stay focused, had to remember why he was doing this.
The only way to keep Melina safe was to bring down every last rogue wolf in the city.
“Where are you going?” Worry tainted her tone. “Hayden? Talk to me.”
He hadn’t realized he’d been standing silent, the Glock resting against his side.
This was where it all began, Hayden thought. Where Gabriel had first told him the pack had hired Melina to write the article on him. At the time, he would’ve given his right arm not to have her follow him around. Now, he’d give his life to keep her safe.
“I’ve got an appointment,” he said simply.
Her brows rose. “Oh yeah? Where?”
“Bernal Heights.”
As realization set in, she covered her mouth with her hand.
“How many guards are going with you?” Gabriel asked, leaning against the doorframe.
“None.” Hayden left the room before it closed in any more. “Just me.”
They followed him out. He could feel their gazes trained on his back.
Melina brushed her hand along his. “But you said turned wolves can’t shift unless there’s a full moon.”
“You’ve got one hell of a memory.” He punched the elevator button as doubt pricked the hairs on the back of his neck. “Anyone ever tell you that?”
“It’s suicide.” Gabriel met Hayden as the steel doors opened. “I’m coming with you. You should have at least one wolf at your side.”
“No.” He spun, putting a hand up to stop Gabriel from joining him in the elevator. “I need you to stay with Melina. You’re the only person I trust to protect her.” He gripped his friend’s hand tight and shook. “I’ll be back in two hours. If you don’t hear from me, use the secret elevator key,
take her down to the basement and out the Alpha’s escape tunnels. I don’t know what’s going on with the pack, but someone on the inside has to be giving information to the rogues. They’re getting too strong, too fast, and the council is too hesitant to act. Something doesn’t sniff right.”
Gabriel nodded as if he understood, his blue eyes blazing bright. “Make those bastards howl for mercy.”
Hayden smirked, anticipation singing through him. “It’ll be my pleasure.”
“You expect me to wait here like a good little girl?” Melina planted her hand on her hip. “Don’t you know me better than that by now?”
“I do know you better than that.” He roped his arms around her waist and dragged her against him. And then he bent her back and kissed her, infusing her with the light and hope and radiance she’d given him the last couple weeks. “And I’m so incredibly sorry.”
“For what?”
“This.” He pushed her off him and backed into the elevator, punching the button for the door to shut behind him.
“No!” She jolted forward, but it was too late.
Milliseconds before the doors hissed shut, he blew her a kiss through the opening. The elevator had never run so slowly. Each floor he descended felt more and more like he was farther away from heaven and closer to hell. When he reached the basement, Hayden jammed the elevator key into the lock near the buttons and turned. No matter how many times Melina punched the call button now, the elevator wouldn’t return until Gabriel used his matching key to call it up.
Hayden sprinted through the basement to the doors leading to the parking garage, and then slid into his Bugatti. He tore through the city at breakneck speed, using the stop signs and red lights as general suggestions. Once he made it to Bernal Heights, he slowed to a crawl.
As he neared the corner of Valley and Church Street where he’d rescued Melina, he rolled down his windows and used his heightened senses to search out the stench of a rogue. The morning marine layer plumed over the street, and entered the car, shrouding Hayden in fresh fog. He breathed deep, praying it’d bring something—
There.
He swerved to the curb, killed the engine, and got out of the car, patting his pockets to double-check his weapons. Although he couldn’t shift on command the way the rogues could, the bullets would slow them down and the Taser would stun them. Maybe, if he was lucky, he’d get a chance at Asher and find out who he worked for.
There were people out at this hour, strolling down the street, coming in and out of the myriad of mom-and-pop shops. He stalked past a pharmacy and liquor store, keeping his pace quick and sure. Darting across the street toward the English Gothic church, he glanced up at its massive granite spires, and ran around the back.
The door was unlocked.
Turning the handle, quietly, carefully, he let himself in.
The scent of werewolves was everywhere, nearly overpowering the aroma of Old English oil and aged wood. If Hayden didn’t know better, he’d say they were surrounding him. Everywhere. In the stained-glass windows and walls. In the intricately arched ceiling.
They were still here.
Excitement hummed through him as he snaked through the pews, around towering beams that split the church in thirds.
Movement caught his eye from the back of the church.
Wolves. Three of them. Burly and dark haired. They stalked through the aisles, the ridges of their backs raised in agitation. Sliding the Glock from his pocket, Hayden took aim. He could get one shot off. Maybe two. With his other hand, he gripped the Taser and pointed both weapons toward the wolves.
Growling reverberated from all around him. Damn acoustics in the church were blaring. Taking a step back down the middle aisle, Hayden watched as the wolves prowled, one up the middle, two on the sides.
Where’s Asher? He projected through mind-speak.
The wolf coming at him curled his lip in defiance, revealing a set of hideous teeth.
Someone needs a teeth cleaning. Hayden pushed out the thought with a laugh.
Snarling into a howl, the wolf charged. Hayden crouched, fingers on both triggers. Without warning, the wolf skidded to a stop moments before he leaped. His eyes glazed over and his ears bent back.
The wolf was listening to something, and it wasn’t him.
The wolf had pledged loyalty to another.
Hayden spun, searching out the leader of the new pack, the one who commanded the rogue.
“Hayden Dean,” a gruff voice said from behind him. “Pleased to finally meet you.”
He turned, ready to pop off a few shots. The werewolf was tall—over six-foot-six from what he could tell—with jet-black hair cut close to his scalp and a nasty scar slicing across his cheek. Hayden had never seen him before, but from his stature and menacing presence alone, he’d guess the werewolf was a former member of the guard.
“Asher, I presume,” Hayden said, moving so that his back faced the wall.
“She said you would come, but I didn’t believe her.” Asher strode closer, his hands hidden behind his back. “What kind of an idiot do you have to be to come here knowing you can’t defend yourself against us?”
“I came to talk some sense into you before it was too late.”
Asher barked out a laugh. “You came to talk? Oh, now I’m intrigued.” He perched on the edge of a pew, the leather pants stretching taut over his legs. “Go ahead, son of Angus, the Alpha who’ll never be. Enlighten me. Tell me what I’m doing wrong and what you’re doing right.”
Hayden watched the wolves carefully as they inched closer.
“You can’t possibly think the council is going to sit by and let you get away with starting a new pack in the city,” Hayden said. “The guards will come for you eventually.”
“You think I’m scared to stand against them?”
No, Asher didn’t look scared. He looked ready for war.
“I’m not worried about the council.” Asher patted his pocket. “I’ve got them right here.”
Hayden sensed more wolves surround them. Whether they were outside or mobilizing in another part of the church, he couldn’t be sure.
Things were about to go from bad to worse.
“Who do you work for?” Hayden spat, pulse spiking.
The silhouette of a woman appeared near the altar. “Me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Damn it, Lydia!” He should’ve known. “What the hell are you doing?”
Lydia traipsed down the stairs at the front, her hands clasped in front of her. The wolves bowed, their muzzles brushing the floor. Asher craned his neck over his shoulder to glare at her before returning his attention to Hayden.
“I’m taking control of the pack,” Lydia said simply. “Both packs, actually. Puts me in a fine position, doesn’t it? Don’t look so surprised. You didn’t seriously expect to rule after Angus died, did you?”
He stiffened, fury striking through his veins.
“You did?” She laughed. “Then it’s true what they say: beauty or brains, but never both.”
Asher chuckled as the wolves closed in. Two more, smaller and sleeker than the first group, emerged from behind the altar and fell behind their leader.
How fast could he fire off every round and reload? He could use the Taser on Asher, and drop a wolf or two before bolting to a better position…
“You were never going to rule.” She paced in front of him like a lion in a cage, anxious to pounce. “Dean blood doesn’t stream through your veins. You’re not the leader Angus was. And you’re inherently weaker than every born wolf in this room.”
Her words stung, piercing through the wall Hayden had built up around his pride. But she didn’t have to say any of it aloud. Those remarks had been on a permanent auto-loop through his mind from the day Angus took him in as his son.
But Lydia was wrong. That simple. Born wolves were no different from turned wolves with the exception of the timing of their shift. And he could take a few of these wolves down if the fight was
one-on-one.
“You’re a born wolf,” he said, nudging his chin at her in defiance. “If you’re stronger than I am, let’s go a round.”
“Oh, there was a time when I would’ve jumped at the chance to go a round with you.” Licking her lips, she closed the distance between them and eyed him with heated intensity. “We could’ve been amazing together.” She stepped back as he shivered in disgust. “But that was before Asher made me realize turned wolves are beneath us. They’re not natural.”
His finger tapped against the trigger as he took aim at one wolf before another…and then another.
“I’m just as natural as you are.”
“No,” Asher interrupted. “You’re not. God made us this way. He linked us to the moon and blessed us with the ability to shift into these glorious creatures.” He motioned to the rogue pack. “But you were born of an attack, a random act of violence. We were blessed by the Creator, and you were created from evil. Don’t you see?”
“I see you’re sick as fuck,” Hayden snapped, fury shrinking the skin over his bones. “Holding on to this prejudice is going to break our society.”
“No,” Asher growled, “getting rid of the waste is going to make our society purer, and stronger.”
“The only thing born from hate will be more hate.”
“He’s not getting the picture,” Lydia said, kinking her neck toward Asher. When her gaze returned to Hayden, it was filled with fiery determination. “Listen up, wannabe. Here’s how this is going to work. You’re going to be tortured in front of the pack during the next full moon, as an example of what will happen to turned wolves if they don’t leave the city.”
“The hell I am.”
They wanted war, they were about to get it.
Letting the anger whipping through him take over, Hayden pointed the Taser at Asher and took a shot. He dodged, but the prongs caught him in the shoulder, dropping him onto his side. Hayden fired two quick rounds with his Glock—one at Lydia, the other at the wolf stalking in front of him.
Lydia dodged the bullet aimed for her, but the other hit square in the wolf’s chest.
With a howl, the wolf leaped, canines bared. Anticipating the move, Hayden knelt and fired a second bullet into the wolf’s belly. He dropped like a stone while Lydia disappeared behind a group of charging rogues.
The Werewolf Wears Prada (Entangled Covet) (San Francisco Wolf Pack) Page 18
