Alphas: Supes and Badboys (8 Books in One)

by Myles, Eden

  A moment later, he heard a voice say, “I wanted that shaken, not murdered, barkeep.”

  He looked at the businessman with his tie undone who had ordered the martini. “Sorry.” The guy was obviously kidding him…and checking him out. He scrambled to get the cocktail into a glass, add an olive, and rush it over. “On the house,” he said in a flat, disinterested voice to keep the man from coming on any stronger, then turned to scan the floor once more. No Roman.

  “He’s not coming,” barked a gruff voice from the opposite end of the bar.

  Turning, Kevin recognized Fenrir sitting there, nursing a draft beer that Allison had served him. Kevin automatically stiffened but Fenrir smirked and made no move to leap over the bar and rip his throat out. That was something, at least. He did indicate that Kevin should come closer.

  “What are you doing here?” Kevin hissed.

  “Roman sent me. He has a message for you. He was afraid if he showed up, Anya might become suspicious. Well, Anya is already suspicious.” Fenrir grimaced. “She smelled you on Roman’s sheets.”

  Kevin shuddered as he polished a glass as casually as he could. Had he put Roman in danger by visiting him? “Anya might become suspicious that you’re here. Aren’t you afraid of her like the others?”

  The light darkened in Fenrir’s eyes. “Yes. But I also know how to lose a trail. Military training.”

  Jonah said Fenrir was good people, but he wasn’t quite convinced just yet. “You’re still taking an awful big chance coming here.”

  “I’m loyal to Roman. If he tells me to do something, I do it, no questions.”

  “You’re in love with him,” Kevin said, not sure how he felt about that.

  “It’s more than that, pup. If it weren’t for Roman, I would be dead now.”

  Kevin thought about asking Fenrir what he meant, then decided it wasn’t really any of his business. “What’s the message from Roman?”

  “You get off in half an hour?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m to take you downtown.”

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “I should be running in the opposite direction from you, you know,” Kevin said later as he followed Fenrir out to his Jeep parked behind the Dumpster. “I have no idea why I’m letting you kidnap me.”

  “Because you’re not afraid,” Fenrir said, and threw a smirk over one shoulder. “And I’m not kidnapping you. I’m escorting you. Don’t believe me?”

  Kevin looked at Fenrir’s cold blue eyes, the dog tags around his neck. He should be afraid, yet he wasn’t. “I’m not sure what I believe.”

  “You’re a Pedigree through and through, yet you act like a human sometimes. You’re suspicious like humans are. Get in.”

  Kevin got in the passenger side and Fenrir climbed into the driver’s seat and started the Jeep. Minutes later, they were headed downtown, toward the warehouse district and the docks. Kevin watched the lights of the city by night smearing across the windshield. He’d meant to keep his thoughts to himself, but what came out was, “What do you mean you’d be dead now if it wasn’t for Roman?”

  Fenrir kept his eyes on the road as he drove. “A long time ago I was a soldier in Vietnam. Did three tours of duty before I was dishonorably discharged. I killed another soldier.”

  Kevin swallowed hard. “Why…why did you kill a soldier?”

  “He was beating this dog he found in one of the villages we were reconning. This was late in the war, the troops falling apart, but still. I told him to cut it out and he wouldn’t, so I took my gun out and shot him in the head.”

  “For beating a dog.”

  “I like dogs. And I hate it when grown men pick on animals or kids. Or women.”

  Kevin turned and looked at the man with new eyes. “You went after Hannah.”

  “I wouldn’t have hurt her. I like your sister. She’s got chutzpah. And she’s hot.”

  Kevin felt his ruff go up. “Don’t talk about my sister like that.”

  “Sorry. Roman said you were very protective of her.”

  To change the subject, Kevin said, “You were saying about you and Roman?”

  Fenrir nodded. “It bothered me only after I got home. Well, there wasn’t much home left, by then. I’d been on tour a long time. My folks were dead, and my girl had moved on. I started drinking and brawling, real PTSD shit, you know.” Fenrir’s eyes gleamed and he bit his lip briefly. “Eventually, I decided the only way out of things was a bullet to the brain. I’d planned on using the gun I shot my fellow officer with, but I wanted to get real drunk first, so I went to this dive and started drinking myself under a table. It was there I met Roman.”

  Kevin waited to hear the rest of the story, but when Fenrir remained silent, he said, “Go on. What happened?”

  Fenrir shrugged. “You know Roman. He sits down, real posh-like, all British and shit. The most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen. I think every single person in that dump was drooling over him. Myself, I’d never been into guys until then, until him. Anyway, he touches my hand and says, ‘I know you want to die tonight, but you mustn’t.’ I was a little freaked out by that, but not much. By then I was pretty damned drunk so everything was making sense to me. I nodded and told him what I planned on doing later on. He looked sad and said, ‘What if there was another way you could live? What if you could live free of this world and all its trappings? Would you like to be more alive than you’ve ever were before?’ Naturally, I was curious as hell. I went back to his place and we made love. Then he bit me and changed me into a werewolf—gave me a new name and a new life, and here we are.”

  Kevin listened to their breathing in the Jeep and thought about Fenrir’s story. “Do you regret it? Being a werewolf?”

  “Hell, no. You?”

  “I never had much choice.”

  Fenrir nodded. “I love my life with Roman. I’ll do anything for him, and what Anya does to him just breaks my heart. Makes me mad as hell.” He clenched his big fists on the steering wheel.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s told you about Anya’s desire for a pup?”

  “Yeah, he said she can’t carry to term.”

  Fenrir grimaced. “But she can conceive—that’s how we know it isn’t Roman’s fault.” Fenrir shook his head sadly. “Roman has watched so many of his children be miscarried or stillborn over the years that it’s ripped something out of him, some fire. He used to have this strength…this power. He could transform a room. But every time one of his pups dies, it carves away a little more of his heart. I want to stop Anya from doing that to him, destroying him that way, a little at a time.”

  “Why doesn’t he just leave the pack?”

  “Anya controls the pack—those werewolves she’s made, which is nearly all of them.”

  “But not you.”

  “Roman made me. Only he controls me. But if Roman tries to leave, she’ll have the others hunt him down and rip him apart. I won’t let that happen, so I can never leave Roman.” He glanced over at Kevin. “It’s the same thing she’ll do to you if she gets her claws into you. And that’s what Roman’s been trying to prevent.”

  “Jesus,” Kevin breathed under his breath. Suddenly, Anya didn’t seem so innocent, after all.

  “Why do you think I’m helping you?”

  “I doubt it’s because you like me.”

  “I don’t dislike you, Kevin. But I love Roman, and Roman loves you. That makes you important to him. And me.”

  They were drawing near the harbor and a large collection of warfside warehouse. As they pulled into one of the hangar-sized buildings, a thought occurred to Kevin. “I was pretty rough on you the other night when we fought. I’m sorry about that.”

  Fenrir smirked lustily as he undid his seatbelt and got out. “Why? I like it rough.”

  Shaking his head, Kevin followed the big man into the warehouse.

  Roman was waiting there for them, perched on a shipping box, a knapsack resting at his feet. Kevin hu
rried over and Roman stood up, looping his arms around Kevin’s neck and kissing him passionately. They kissed and rubbed their bodies against one another in greeting. When they drew back far enough for Kevin to breathe, Roman said, “Thank you for coming. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

  “Of course I would. You’re my alpha, Roman. If you call me, I’ll always come.”

  The flicker of love and devotion in Roman’s eyes made Kevin’s heart thud harder. “We have to make this painfully brief, Golden Eyes. Anya could show up at any time.” He nodded to Fenrir, who moved to the doors of the warehouse to stand guard. Roman looked back at Kevin, captured his face in his hands like some precious jewel, and brushed a kiss across his lips. “I know we’ve only been apart a few days, but I already feel the strain of it. I want you so much it makes my wolf ache within.”

  “Yes,” Kevin agreed. “I feel that too.”

  “I’m not sure how I’ll bear our permanent parting.”

  Kevin stepped back. “What do you mean?”

  Roman lifted the knapsack. “I want you to take this. It has passports, travel tickets, new identities for you and your sister, access to offshore bank accounts, everything you need to start a new life elsewhere.”

  Kevin shook his head and stared at the knapsack in horror. “What are you talking about? I’m not going anywhere.”

  “You have to go.” Roman gave him a dark, sobering look. Kevin could see a storm in his eyes. “It’s no longer a case of maybe. You have to. Now. Today. Go home, take your sister, and leave this city. Follow the travel plans I have outlined for you inside…”

  When Roman tried to give Kevin the bag, he slapped it away. “I am not leaving, Roman!” He held up his hands. “I’m not afraid of Anya.”

  “You should be,” Roman growled and his eyes flashed to wolf. “I can’t protect you anymore. Anya has ordered a citywide hunt for you, and there’s no way I can stand in her way.”

  “I told you…”

  “Hush,” Roman said in his commanding alpha voice. He reached into his suit coat pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. Inside it, he revealed a heavy black iron medallion on a long cord. “This is called The Song of Cerberus, sometimes referred to as Wolfsbane—real Wolfsbane. The ancient people and Greece and Mesopotamia wore them to ward off the attacks of werewolves. Take it with you, but don’t touch it or it will burn you. Use it if you must on Anya to protect yourself.” He rewrapped it in the handkerchief and put it in Kevin’s hand, curling his fingers around it.

  Kevin was about to protest further when Fenrir turned and shouted to them, “She’s coming!”

  Roman touched his cheek. “I’m sending you away because I love you.”

  “You can’t make me leave,” Kevin choked.

  “I’m your alpha, Kevin Sullivan. It’s your duty to listen to your alpha. And when he tells you to do something, you do it without question. Do you understand?” Something about the dire tone in Roman’s voice made Kevin grab the pack and slip it on.

  A few moments later, Fenrir turned. Kevin could hear the squeal of a car rounding the bend. “I’d hate to break up your love fest, boys, but she’s here!”

  Roman nodded and looked Kevin in the eye. “Go! If not for yourself, then for Hannah!”

  That motivated him when nothing else could. Kevin started for the exit on the opposite side of the warehouse hangar, then stopped and turned to look back at Roman as a black stretch limo turned into the warehouse. Roman was standing there so sedately, but Kevin’s heart was thudding hard and uncomfortably in his chest.

  One of Anya’s werewolves got out of the driver’s seat and went to open the back door. Anya stepped out, wearing a long, fox fur coat and a shimmering, pale champagne gown beneath it. Her hair was coffered perfectly like a starlet from an old Hollywood movie. Diamonds flashed at her throat, ears and on her long, slender fingers. “Kevin!” she said and took a dainty step toward him, a hand outstretched. “Wait, please!”

  Kevin felt torn. A part of him wanted to listen to his alpha and run, but disbelief and indecision held him rooted to the ground. It just didn’t seem possible that Anya was capable of any evil at all. She was so beautiful, so dainty. In some ways, she reminded Kevin of Hannah, small but strong. How in hell could she be Odin’s greedy demon she-wolf?

  “I know what you’re thinking!” she called. “I know the lies that Roman has told!”

  “He said you keep him against his will, Anya,” Kevin answered, not willing to get any closer than he was.

  Anya frowned. “Roman overreacts. He’s with me and my pack purely of his own will.” She clutched at the collar of her coat and gave him a sad expression as her pack slowly gathered around her. “Do you really believe Roman does anything he doesn’t want to do?”

  She had a point. Kevin looked at Roman, but he stood stoic and silent, staring back at Kevin. Could it be true? Roman was hardly the type to let other people push him around. Kevin looked back at Anya. Something about her coat bothered him.

  “Kevin, please don’t go,” Anya pleaded, sounding genuinely sad. “You said you wanted to be part of my pack. I want that too. We all do!”

  Suddenly, Kevin knew what was wrong. Her coat wasn’t made of fox fur. It was wolf fur.

  Jonah.

  “Shit,” he hissed.

  Seconds later he saw the realization dawning in Anya’s eyes. She narrowed them to burning cold slits. “This would have been much easier on you if you had just stayed, Kevin,” she said in a new and much more guttural voice. She flicked her delicate fingers and several of her biggest, burliest boys broke away and went to Roman, grabbing him by his long ponytail of hair and forcing him to his knees. His eyes were stricken, terrified—not for himself, but for Kevin.

  Run, he mouthed.

  And as Anya pointed at him, commanding the rest of the pack forward, Kevin ran.

  * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  He raced out of the warehouse and across the tarmac, the sound of several of the pack close on his heels. They were big, muscular men. He wasn’t sure he could fight them all off, even being a Pedigree. He heard them panting and growling, and the heavy thud of their boots sent a worm of panic up his back and into his heart, but Kevin swallowed it down and worked on concentrating on his escape. He ducked into a nearby crowded parking lot and weaved between the parked cars, hoping to lose his pursuers. I will hold it together, he told himself. I will not panic!

  Flashing images of Anya’s coat made him break out in a cold sweat. If Anya and the pack were willing to do that to Jonah, poor Jonah, there was no limit to what they would do to him. He thought about ducking down and trying to hide between the parked cars, but he knew his scent would quickly give him away. The werewolves could track an animal in the forest hours after it had passed through; they would easily discover him. Leaving the car park behind, he headed toward the street, but quickly came up against a tall, chain-link safety fence at least nine feet tall.

  A huge junkyard dog lunged against the fence, barking and baring its fangs. Kevin growled back and the dog turned tail and raced away, whining. He quickly scaled the fence and dropped down on the other side, but he knew he’d made enough noise to raise the dead. The pack would be here in a matter of minutes.

  The street lay ahead, his apartment at least a dozen blocks away, but he’d grown up in this part of the city and he knew a few shortcuts through some back alleys. He and Hannah had often used them when they wanted to sneak to the movies. He took to them, winding his way around crumbling projects and old industrial machine shops. The place was like a maze, almost more confusing than he remembered. He raced down tight alleys clotted with garbage, past bums huddled against brownstone walls full of scrawled graffiti. This part of the city had seen little, if any, urban renewal. It was a mix of old and new architecture and a mind field of trash and the homeless.

  Behind him, the chain-link fence groaned as members of the pack leapt it effortlessly. They were a little too close to civilization to shift, but
that didn’t mean they didn’t have speed, strength and agility on their side. Even in human form, all the werewolves were wolf-like in their endurance.

  Kevin splashed through puddles, dashed around corners and leaped small wooden fences. He heard screams from down the alley as the pack fell across the homeless and tore into them in frustration. Shaking with rage and terror, he ducked into the street and crossed an old, abandoned railroad station. The project where he and Hannah lived wasn’t far off—they used to be able to hear the trains passing when they were kids—but that’s not where Hannah was. She was at Matthew’s place. He had an apartment near the church several blocks away. But maybe he could use that to his advantage.

  The pack knew where he lived. Naturally, they’d expect him to go straight home. Instead, he doubled back and disappeared into the alley system again. He found a hiding spot behind an ancient blue Dumpster and crouched low, out of breath but trying not to breath too loudly as he heard several pairs of feet hurrying past. He stayed as quiet as possible, hoping his scent was all over the place and impossible to track, until he was certain the pack had moved on.

  He waited fifteen minutes more to make certain Anya hadn’t left anyone to recon the area. Nothing stirred except for a cat digging diligently into an overturned garbage can.

  He couldn’t wait any longer. If Anya knew about his apartment, she might also know about Matthew. When she didn’t find Hannah there, she might try Matthew’s next. Who knew how far her knowledge and influence went? Ducking out of his hiding space, Kevin re-shouldered the pack and started down the alley toward the street.

  He was almost at the end when three figures stepped into view. One was Anya, surrounded on both sides by two burly members of the pack.

  “Shit!” Kevin skidded to a halt, his blood thudding in his ears.

  Anya glared at him, no smile on her shiny, ruby-red lips now. “The way you carry on, a girl might be insulted, little wolfling.”

  “You’re not a girl, Freki,” Kevin growled.

  Anya narrowed her snapping blue eyes and put her hands on her hips. “Things would have been much easier for you if you’d just done what you were told and left your human life behind.”