Stanley, Gale - Mating Call [Black Wolf Gorge 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

by Mating Call (it)

  Black Wolf Gorge 2

  Mating Call

  Human contact is the last thing Sable wants, and the she-wolf lives wild to avoid any chance encounters. But when a hunter sees the beautiful woman transform into his quarry, she becomes fair game. Jude and his twin, Jonas, capture the feral creature and plan to tame the wild beast, but her mating frenzy ignites their lust and blurs the line between captor and captive.

  The she-wolf can’t deny her attraction to the brothers, and their passion creates a strong bond that none are willing to accept. Sable has no desire for a pair of human mates, but destiny steps in, and she finds herself mated to men who only think of her as an animal. Suddenly, she’s in more danger than she thought possible, and the need to escape increases. But the bond between her and her captors is sealed, and she discovers surrender isn't necessarily a bad thing.

  Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter

  Length: 66,002 words

  MATING CALL

  Black Wolf Gorge 2

  Gale Stanley

  MENAGE AMOUR

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  ABOUT THE E-BOOK YOU HAVE PURCHASED: Your non-refundable purchase of this e-book allows you to only ONE LEGAL copy for your own personal reading on your own personal computer or device. You do not have resell or distribution rights without the prior written permission of both the publisher and the copyright owner of this book. This book cannot be copied in any format, sold, or otherwise transferred from your computer to another through upload to a file sharing peer to peer program, for free or for a fee, or as a prize in any contest. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. Distribution of this e-book, in whole or in part, online, offline, in print or in any way or any other method currently known or yet to be invented, is forbidden. If you do not want this book anymore, you must delete it from your computer.

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  A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

  IMPRINT: Ménage Amour

  MATING CALL

  Copyright © 2010 by Gale Stanley

  E-book ISBN: 1-61034-007-8

  First E-book Publication: October 2010

  Cover design by Jinger Heaston

  All cover art and logo copyright © 2010 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

  PUBLISHER

  Siren Publishing, Inc.

  www.SirenPublishing.com

  Letter from Gale Stanley

  Regarding E-book Piracy

  Dear Readers,

  Thank you so much for purchasing Mating Call from Bookstrand.com or a legitimate distributor. I’m very fortunate to be doing something that gives me so much pleasure, and I pour my heart and soul into each story. I love the fact that e-readers and e-books allow my readers easier access. If you enjoyed this book please recommend it to your friends and family so they can buy their own copy from a legitimate website. Unauthorized distribution to third parties and file-sharing sites is illegal and hits writers hard. Your support makes a huge difference to authors and publishers and allows us to continue providing you with the stories you love!

  With deep gratitude,

  Gale Stanley

  DEDICATION

  This book is for J.P. Thank God I married a man who likes to cook and doesn’t mind a messy house. Love ya!

  MATING CALL

  Black Wolf Gorge 2

  GALE STANLEY

  Copyright © 2010

  Chapter One

  Summer 2009 Black Wolf Gorge, Pennsylvania Wilds

  Jude maneuvered the ATV over the rocky trail, driving fast enough to jiggle the change in the dashboard ashtray. Cursing, he jammed on the brake, stomping so hard the tires screamed. He jumped out and trotted back a few yards.

  Shit! Hot and hungry, he'd let his mind wander, and he almost drove over the wolf scat. He nudged the dark coils with the toe of his boot. Tapered at the ends and full of animal hair and bone shards, they looked to be fresh. Just to be sure, he got to his knees and smelled the dung. It had a distinct odor, one he recognized.

  Wolves hadn't been seen in the gorge since they were taken off the endangered species list and hunted to extinction, but yesterday when he found that deer carcass, alarm bells went off. Some varmint had disemboweled the whitetail, torn it apart, and scattered the bones in a small radius. Every predator had its own style, and he'd bet the ranch on a wolf kill.

  His neighbors, hell, even his own brother laughed at him and said they weren't about to waste their time chasing coyotes, but he knew better. Screw them! He didn't give a shit, he liked to be on his own.

  The damp earth revealed almost-perfect tracks, four inches wide and five inches long and claw marks to boot. Too big to be coyote prints. Damn if he wasn't Sherlock fucking Holmes. Those assholes would eat their words when he brought a dead wolf back for his trophy room. And they'd all be kissing his ass and thanking him for protecting their livestock.

  Tracking involved more than shit and footprints. He gave himself a spritz of eau de deer piss, grabbed his rifle, and left the vehicle behind. He evaluated everything around him—scratches on tree trunks, chewed vegetation, snagged hairs. Measuring the distance between prints told him the animal had walked rather than loped. The signs weren't obvious in the dense growth, but he'd been hunting since he could pick up a gun. Confident in his element, he tracked like a predatory animal.

  Few ranchers understood the wolf like he did, but then few hated them as much either. Hell-bent on eradicating the species, he had good reason to study their habits. His parents died defending him and his siblings against a wolf attack, and for the last twenty years, he'd learned all he could about them for the sole purpose of getting rid of them. His ultimate goal might be a tad too ambitious, but he did succeed in ridding Black Wolf Gorge of the feral beasts. At least he thought he did. He believed all of the relocated pack had been dealt with after they were delisted. Evidently he'd been wrong.

  The trail led him toward the river, a good sign. A familiar adrenaline rush pumped up his heart rate. This is what he lived for—the thrill of the hunt, and the wolf, an elusive predator, presented a real challenge.

  Wolves were smart, and this one more than most. He almost missed the den, hidden in a dense conifer stand. It had been dug under a fallen spruce, providing a stable ceiling. Fresh scat and disturbed vegetation lay nearby, proving the animal hadn't abandoned it.

  He checked for multiple openings and found one. His prey made sure it had an escape route. He ached to crawl inside, but he knew better. It appeared empty, and he smelled like a fucking deer, but he could scare it off for good. Worse, it might return through the back door and meet him head-to-head. He'd be wise to come back later, better prepared, and stake out the area.

  The soft rush of water could be heard in the distance. His enemy had camped near th
e river. He decided to make a detour and cool off.

  Jude moved like a silent ghost until he reached a stand of trees bordering a clearing. He peered through the dense growth at the river beyond. Holy shit! A woman, buck naked and half-submerged, splashed playfully in the water. She clearly enjoyed herself, and he enjoyed the view from his protected spot behind the trees.

  She bent low to bathe her face. Intrigued, he watched her ample breasts bob on the water like two plump apples ripe for the picking. She dunked her head before wading out. A real beauty. Damn, if she didn't look like Venus coming out of the sea with her tan skin and curvy body. Dead sexy, she swung her full hips as if she knew someone watched her. She stood on the bank shaking water from her long, black hair and preening in the sun. He licked his lips and let his gaze travel over her body. Tempted beyond reason his cock twitched painfully inside jeans made suddenly too tight. His own personal sex goddess just waiting for him to make a move. If he didn't, it would be his loss, and she'd haunt his dreams tonight.

  All thoughts of the wolf fled. How often did a man get a chance to score a fine piece of ass like this one?

  Already unzipping his jeans, he took a step forward. One look at the womb tickler between his legs and a dose of the old Outlaw family charm and the little seductress would be putty in his hands. He hadn't had any complaints yet.

  About to leave the shielding trees, he saw her drop to a crouch, and he hesitated. In that second, her form blurred. He wiped sweat from his eyes with a forearm, blinked, and shook his head to clear his vision. When he opened his eyes, he swore she looked right at him, but her eyes fixed on something he couldn't see. Her body bent forward and quivered like a twanged bowstring. Muscles bunched and strained. Short, black hair sprouted from her naked flesh and grew longer. He watched, frozen in place by shock. A noise like twigs cracking underfoot and her midsection contracted while her face expanded. In another instant, a wolf sat where the woman had once crouched.

  It all happened so fast. He shut his eyes. Maybe he imagined the whole thing. But when he looked again, there it sat, a sideshow freak, shaking drops of water from its fur and licking a paw.

  His knuckles went white around the rifle, and he dropped to his knees, sucking back a wave of nausea. Shit. He was not one of those people who engaged in sexual relations with animals. It was unnatural. He pushed the thought out of his head.

  Either he lost his mind or Jonas had the last laugh after all. When they were kids, his twin spouted nonsense about vampires and wolf people. Jonas watched too many horror movies, and he got a real kick out of scaring his siblings. Hell, he'd slept with the light on for years because of Jonas's stories. As he got older, he realized the bizarre tales were nothing more than myths and legends. But, were they? Right now, he wasn't so sure. He doubted his own sanity.

  When the idea hit, it slammed him hard. This kind of discovery could make him a very rich man. No ordinary animal sat before him. This one came straight from hell, with the strength of a beast and the cunning of a human. No matter, he would bring her in alive, and Jonas would know exactly what to do with her.

  It all fell into place, so obvious in hindsight. This black bitch had to be the rogue wolf that killed a hiker and the sheriff. Everyone thought she ran off weeks ago, and all this time she'd been hiding in plain sight, pretending to be one of them. Woman or wolf, it didn't matter. He'd bring her in one way or another.

  * * * *

  A sharp crackle from the walkie-talkie broke the silence. Jude bounced from one foot to the other in excitement while Jonas, always cool as a cucumber, listened intently. Jude waited impatiently but remained motionless. Not a muscle twitched. A good hunter knew how to keep still.

  He watched his brother's expression, saw his cool facade disappear. His arrogant face animated with a rare display of emotion, his blue eyes grew even darker, and his smile told the story—the hunt was on.

  Jude felt a thrill of anticipation, felt it in every nerve of his body. It gave him a rush like nothing else, not even sex.

  "Earth to Jude."

  "Uh, sorry, bro. Just thinking over strategy."

  "Well, think about this," Jonas demanded. "There's more to a successful hunt than being in the right place at the right time. You have to smell invisible."

  Inside he smiled. Jonas told him nothing he didn't already know. His older brother put on a good act, but he was no hunter, never would be. Then again, he had other talents.

  Jude kept his mouth shut and listened. Jonas liked to be in charge. He needed to control every aspect of the hunt even though he wouldn't play an active part.

  Jonas withdrew a spray bottle from a pouch attached to his belt. "This bitch will have an excellent nose, fifty times more powerful than yours. If she picks up your scent, she'll change course, and we'll never get her." He sprayed Jude with concentrated deer urine then shoved the bottle at him. "Take it with you." He reeled off the coordinates that would give Jude the best shot. "Go!"

  Jude didn't like the GPS. Normally he refrained from using any kind of technology. Surrounded by six thousand acres of pristine forest, he was in his element. Technology took all the fun out of the hunt. He relied on his tracking skills and instinct, and he preferred to hunt alone.

  Tonight, he deferred to Jonas. Hell-bent on owning the she-wolf, he'd planned every detail of her capture. Any screwups and Jonas would have his head.

  He had to admit the equipment sped up the operation. In a matter of minutes, Jonas had five men spread in a wide radius around the den. Unlike him, they did not disguise their scent, and their very human smell would drive the bitch to take a path that would put her in his sights.

  Jonas had big plans for her, and he depended on Jude to bring her in. His older brother was the genius, the boy wonder who went off to college, studied evolutionary biology, and became a damn witch doctor. When he came home with his PhD, he set up his own lab, determined to breed livestock for the particular traits he wanted. He threw around big words and talked about how selective breeding could produce change over time.

  Jude had no idea what it all meant. He was only a redneck hunter. While Jonas got his degrees, he and their younger sister, Janis, took care of business at the ranch.

  He and Jonas were not identical twins although they were both six foot three and had the navy eyes that were an Outlaw trademark. Jude's white-blond hair was lighter than Jonas's, and he didn't have his twin's brains.

  Maybe he had something better. When it came to shooting, no one could match him. He was the best damn shot on this side of the U.S. of A., and he'd prove it tonight when he brought the she-wolf down. Jonas could get on with his Dr. Frankenstein experiments and everybody would be happy. Drowning himself in deer piss was a small price to pay for the riches Jonas promised him.

  He focused on the mission. No matter how fast the wolf moved, he would have to move faster. He rubbed his gun for luck, a custom-made beauty, completely silent and fitted with eight tranquilizer darts. He would only need one. He belly crawled into position and settled down in a depression behind a hemlock. The full moon provided all the light he needed. He set up the bipod, adjusted the laser sight, and sprayed more deer piss around just to be on the safe side. Then he hunkered down to wait.

  Time passed, and he started getting antsy. He checked his equipment over and over again. There was still no sign of her. Damn. He had to catch her tonight. If she got spooked, they might lose her for good. He cleared his head and prepared for a long night.

  Another hour went by before he saw her. Adrenaline flooded his body. Unblinking, he looked through the scope, adjusted the crosshairs, checked the red dot, and fired.

  The wolf shuddered but kept moving. At first, he thought he missed the shot. His temper rose, he would not go back without her.

  He followed her trail a quarter mile before he overtook her, still on her feet but moving in slow motion. He hadn't missed her after all. The tolerability of drugs varied from one animal to another. Evidently, her metabolism processed the drug
too well, and she needed a lot more to take her down. Not his fault. An easy target now, his second dart pierced her flank, and she stumbled. He waited a few seconds. When she didn't get up, he approached. Coal black, a real beauty. A smile lit his face. He'd bagged himself a werewolf.

  Chapter Two

  She followed the stream in her wolf form, stopping once for a cool drink. Her route wound through unspoiled woodlands. With no particular destination in mind, she took her time, enjoying the crackle of pine needles under her paws and the intoxicating scent they released. Other smells swept over her, the mouthwatering aroma of deer, rabbit, and raccoon. Her stomach rumbled, and she turned to trail a muskrat.

  The sharp crack of a branch startled her, and she sensed something that didn't belong in her world. A loathsome human odor made her freeze in her tracks. She spun on her heels and ran through the underbrush. The anxious roar of her blood masked other forest sounds.

  When she'd put enough distance between her and the human, she dropped to her belly to rest under a canopy of cedar trees. A thick blanket of pine straw provided a comfortable respite, and the sun warmed her fur.

  She woke in fits and starts, not ready to give up her dream. Suddenly her animal instinct to survive kicked in and her eyes flew open. Something was very wrong. There was no pine straw under her, only a hard-packed dirt floor. A deathly quiet surrounded her. The sun and trees were gone, replaced by the stink of mold and humans. A leather cuff circled her hind leg.

  Danger!