Her Wanted Wolf

by Renee Michaels

  * * * *

  An hour past the noon deadline, Rafe, the oldest and most experienced of his fore-fighters, arrived. From his vantage point on a sturdy limb high above him, Drew watched Rafe slip in and out of the trees and sniff the air tentatively. He read tension, uncertainty, and watchfulness in the lithe movements of his primo’s body.

  Drew knew exactly how Rafe felt.

  Dropping down to the ground, he grinned when Rafe’s head whipped around, fur bristling, body poised to leap.

  “Are your skills getting dull with age, Rafe?” Drew taunted.

  Rafe shed his base form like a too-tight coat. He looked around, as if he expected something to spring out at him. “Something is really fucked up here. There are pockets throughout the forest where I can’t smell a damned thing. The woods are lousy with dogs, men, and Redmavens. We wasted a lot of time evading them.” Rafe peeled off the light backpack slung across his back and tossed it to Drew. “I’d really appreciate it if you never ask me to carry anything on my back again. I’m not a pack animal.” His face was tight with irritation.

  “Questioning my orders, Rafe?” Drew asked softly. His hackles rose at the hint of insubordination in Rafe’s demeanor.

  “Never that. You are my alpha and I’m yours to command. It’s those disrespectful young pups you chose for your guard. You should have heard some of the crap I had to listen to when I fixed the bag to my back. I’m going to have to trim a few ruffs when we get home.”

  “You have the right to discipline your men as you see fit, and I might just give you a hand. We’ll consider it a training exercise.”

  Rafe grunted. “You’ll need to kick more than your fore-fighters’ asses. Your uncle’s whelp is trying to agitate the pack. He’s been talking trash that you’re a couple fangs short of a full set since you lost Christa. It’s been suggested not so subtly that we should toss our lot in with him.”

  Drew would be the first one to admit he’d neglected his duties as leader of his pack lately. But he wouldn’t believe his extended family would shift loyalties so quickly. “And has Adrian succeeded in swaying my pack to his way of thinking?”

  Rafe’s dismissive scoff was enough to assure him he still held the allegiance of his clan. “You can’t ignore him forever, Drew.”

  “Sure I can; it’s worked for me so far. I have nothing to worry about. Adrian will never lead the pack even if something happens to me. The strongest male will fight for the right to be alpha of our pack. Do you see my cousin besting any of you in a fight?”

  “No, but I still say it’d be better all around if you put him down. It can easily be construed as a sign of weakness if you don’t.”

  Drew speared Rafe with a cold admonishing glare, and Rafe took a step backward. “Gustav stepped in and held the pack together when my father died. He kept Aimee and me safe until I was strong enough to take my place as alpha. It would have been easy for him to claim leadership of the Lunedares—he didn’t. I will not repay him for his fealty by killing his only cub.”

  “Don’t you think Gustav knows that his get is a covetous, divisive little weasel? He’d be the first one to cull him from the pack, if anyone was brave enough to tell him what Adrian is up to.” Rafe stiffened and looked past his shoulder. He spread his arms wide, claws descending as he sprang past Drew to meet the threat he sensed approaching.

  One by one, the Silverwolf women stepped forward. Drew laughed at Rafe’s expense when the man’s mouth literally dropped open. Sabine’s pack sisters were a walking wet dream, with their silvery hair, lush bodies and sun-flushed skin.

  “Hell, Drew, you’ve fallen into the gravy, haven’t you?” Rafe stared at the women with a look of pure masculine appreciation. Then his eyes narrowed when the implications of the rare coloring of the women hit him. “Which pack do they belong to?”

  “They’re Silverwolves,” Drew answered, grinning at a frowning Ishbel.

  Distrust spread across Rafe’s face. “Son-of-a-bitch, are they the reason we never found Aimee? Did they help Bardo?”

  Drew shook his head. “Yes and no. It was by pure chance.”

  Suspicious by nature, Rafe was like a dog with a bone. He looked skeptically at Ishbel. “Why is it we’ve picked up on Aimee’s scent after all this time?”

  “She was here. They moved her. After we get them to safety we are going to track her and there’ll be nothing to impede us this time.” Drew felt a deep satisfaction in that bit of knowledge.

  “Will they barter for an exchange of services?”

  “Oh, we can do better than that. Rafe, meet my sister-in-law, Ishbel. We are now kin, and yes, we’re going to be hunting together.” Drew motioned for Ishbel to step forward.

  Rafe’s brows shot up until they disappeared under the shaggy hank of hair hanging down on his forehead. “You’ve acquired a mate during the couple of hours since we’ve been in contact?”

  Said aloud like that, it sounded a bit farfetched.

  “You don’t know the half of it,” Drew murmured, remembering how much of a twist Sabine got his briefs in. “Ishbel, Rafe, my friend and the primo of my fore-fighters.”

  She bowed regally to Rafe giving him a narrow-eyed once over, before she shifted an equally cold gaze to Drew. “I’ll go wait with the others. Quietly, so we don’t inadvertently or deliberately help the enemy.” She spun on her heel, changed into were form, and swished her tail at them with haughty disdain, leaving them staring after her.

  “Ah, did we just get dissed?” Rafe scratched his head.

  “Don’t worry about it. The Silverwolf women seem to have a monopoly on pissiness.” Drew listened to the cautious approach of several four-footed beings.

  “How many men did you bring?” It sounded to him they had more than they needed.

  “I compromised at sixteen. I brought the eight weres in your guard, and then an equal number as backup. You said to keep the group small.”

  Drew smiled as the sleek muscular wolves separated themselves from the underbrush. Their glossy brown coats gleamed with good health and vitality.

  He looked his pack members over, Lunedares under the fur, meeting so far from their stomping grounds, bound by one purpose.

  “I don’t want to tarry here. We’ll head on up to the Silverwolf den to strategize.” He watched his men move to enclose the women in a protective circle, almost preening like a bunch of peacocks to catch the female weres’ attention.

  “They’ll be flanking us instead of the other way around this time.” The male weres froze to stare at him, aghast.

  This simply wasn’t done. No self-respecting wolf left a woman under their protection open to an attack.

  “I don’t want any hint of us carried on the wind. The she-wolves will obscure our presence.” Drew met the affronted gaze of his men until they complied.

  “Then the legends are true? They can walk as shadows?” Rafe asked, looking on dubiously as his pack mates reluctantly changed positions.

  “You’ll see for yourself. It’s a marvel. If we play this right, we’ll sink our fangs into the Redmavens’ ruffs before they realize what’s happening.” Drew turned to look at his pack mates pointedly and slipped his arms through the backpack. He waited for a snicker, but did not hear one. Well at least he hadn’t totally lost his cred with his men.

  Sliding down into were form, he nodded to Ishbel. She and her pack sisters flanked the weres without acknowledging them. His pack brothers bristled.

  You’ll learn, boys.

  While he accepted how invaluable their gift was in their struggle, putting she-wolves on the front line went against the very nature of a male wolf. Who better than he appreciated Sabine’s strength and her love of her clan? She was his equal. He could walk ahead of Sabine, which was his right as an alpha and her mate. For her sake and his, he knew he would have to learn to walk beside her, shoulder to shoulder.

  * * * *

  Sabine paced the small hut in a tight agitated circle. “What kind of alpha are you? You can’t
lead us into a human township en masse. It’s bad enough we have this girl with us. When she starts talking, if we’re lucky, they’ll think she’s lost her mind and won’t believe a word she says. Or, they could think we’re the ones who took her. What if the townspeople come out shooting? How are you going to protect us? Someone will notice. Your plan is faulty.”

  Drew listened and waited for her to wind down. If she was this ticked at his plans, he couldn’t wait to hear her opinion on their planned mode of transportation.

  She paused to draw a breath, and he cut in before she resumed her rant.

  “How many full-scale evacuations have you planned?” He stood up and caught her by the shoulders.

  “None.” She glared up at him and tried to dislodge his hands from her shoulders with a shrug.

  Tightening his grip, he held her in place. “Any experience in battle tactics?”

  “No, but that doesn’t mean…” She dropped her eyes to avoid his probing stare.

  Drew cupped her chin and gently urged her to make eye contact. “I’ve done both.” The softening of her mutinous glare gave him encouragement to continue his argument. “I’ve a plan to outwit the Redmavens to get you and your family out of here with their fur intact. All you have to do is work with me and it will fall into place.”

  He expected to see steam come out of her ears any second. She’d accused him of high-handedness earlier when he got back and, to add fuel to the fire, the older women followed his softly-worded authoritative command without hesitation. She was not in a very receptive mood.

  “I’ve kept them safe.” Sabine shook off his hands and stepped away from him.

  “So you did, and will continue to, as long as you follow my plan. We’ll head out together, then I’ll go ahead to reconnoiter the area. I’m anticipating the Redmavens will set a watch at the passes leading into the nearby towns.”

  Sabine’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as she stared at him. “What are you up to? It almost seems like you want them to attack you. You’d better tell me, in detail, exactly what you’re going to do because I’m not budging from here until you do.”

  “The shortest route into Laststop takes us through a gulch. It’s a perfect place for an ambush.” His toothy wolfish grin brought a look of horror to Sabine’s face. “They are going to come at us. We’ll have to defend ourselves. Once we’re engaged in a fight you’ll break off and go around us and rendezvous with the transportation I’ve arranged.” His reasonable tone heightened her look of irritation. He’d taken the wind out of her sails by being calm and collected.

  He watched her bristle with the effort to hold in her grievances. “What’s going to happen to my father? He can’t run with us. And the girl? She saw too much and she is in no condition to manage on her own. We can’t set her free yet. She might go to the human authorities.” Sabine closed her eyes and groaned.

  “Got that covered. They’ll be taken out after us.”

  “How are you going to accomplish that since it appears we’ll be leaving them behind?”

  Now he had to explain. Drew avoided Sabine’s eyes. “Well, the chopper taking us out will fly back up here and pick them up.”

  “Chopper?” she asked wearily.

  “Yeah, you know—a helicopter.”

  All the color leached out of Sabine’s face, and her mouth dropped open. He’d seen her angry, disdainful, aroused, but never totally flummoxed.

  Pale-faced and little shaky, she shook her head in disbelief. “Now I know you’re insane. There is no way my pack will willingly climb into an aircraft.”

  “Your pack does as I say, unlike my mate who should show more faith in my abilities.” Hell would have blizzards on a regular basis before she stopped questioning his actions.

  “Piffft, don’t refer to me as your mate in that tone, like I’m now supposed to be a mindless appendage. I don’t know if your plan is going to work. I won’t have my father spending the last minutes of his life with Redmaven’s claws at his throat.” Drew recognized the now familiar stubborn thrust of her chin.

  “If I get your father and family out unscathed, will you follow my lead from then on without throwing up any road blocks?” The sooner he got her and her family settled the sooner he could get on with the business of finding Aimee.

  Sabine closed her eyes. “I said the words, didn’t I? We already have a bargain in place.” She finally looked up at him, shaking her head as if she wasn’t quite sure how she’d ended up agreeing to their deal.

  “Your cooperation is part of that bargain. I’m still waiting to see some evidence of that.” He waited for her answer.

  She twisted her lips, weighing her options. “I don’t remember agreeing to fly anywhere. Is this the only way you can get us all out safely?”

  “Yes. Any suspicions Bardo had that I’m in the area will be confirmed when he finds the dead weres in the cave, if he hasn’t already. The duo who chased you will confirm of your presence. Bardo will put two and two together and conclude we are connected. He’ll figure I’d want to get you far away from here as soon as possible.” Drew laid out the scenario as it played out in his mind.

  Sabine’s head jerked up. “You know him that well?”

  Drew lips twisted into a bitter grimace. “Given enough time and reasons, you come to know your enemy as well as your friends.”

  Bardo was in his sights, finally. Sabine asked him if he hoped for a fight. He wanted more than that. He counted on it. He’d searched for Aimee in the way of his people for months. Now he’d use technology and Sabine’s ancient gift, a mix of the modern and the mythical. Drew was going to use Rick’s toys and affix electronic tracking devices to the fur of Bardo’s pack mates. It would work because the Redmaven alpha kept his fighting force in wolf form most of the time. With Sabine to help them track undetected, they would lead him to Aimee’s location. It could not be any easier.

  “Fly? I’m going to be up in the air?” Looking a little green, Sabine swallowed hard. “I’m beginning to think I should have left you in that hole.”

  “It’s just one of the new experiences I’ll be giving you over the next few days.” Sabine sent him a searing look suggesting what he could do with his new experiences. Drew slipped away to have a last minute confab with his men, grinning for the first time in a long while.

  Chapter Twelve

  Something was brewing. Tomorrow night Micah would take his turn at patrolling the area. It’d leave Aimee vulnerable to Rifkin’s whims. For the past two days, Rifkin watched her with a hungry avidity as if he marked time. Micah watched Rifkin with as much vigilance. She let out a sigh of relief when Rifkin slunk through the door.

  Micah made a drinking motion, Aimee reached for the short can of espresso and chugged it down. The dark aromatic fluid coated her tongue, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. Micah had better have a good reason why he insisted she drank the high-octane coffee. She swallowed back the nausea caused by the caffeine surging through her system. Her stomach rolled in jittery heaves and adrenaline pumped into her, spiking her energy level.

  Aimee flexed her fingers and willed her claws to slide out from her fingertips. She could shift seamlessly.

  Elation mixed with the caffeine made her giddy, and her were surfaced and unfurled within her. Aimee initiated a change and allowed the first millimeter of fur to emerge through her skin.

  “Not yet.” Micah’s harsh whisper made Aimee jump, and she clamped her mouth shut to stifle a frightened yelp.

  He hadn’t been there a moment ago. He’d moved so rapidly she hadn’t smelled his approach. All evening he sat across the warehouse, in silent brooding watchfulness. The door opened. She swung her head in its direction, afraid Rifkin had returned. The were who entered the warehouse gave Micah a slight nod.

  “Ready for a pit stop?” His expression demanded her agreement.

  “Ah, yes,” she said, trying to do her best to keep confusion in her voice.

  He unlocked the gate, gripped her elbow, and hustled Aimee
toward the poor excuse of a bathroom. Micah shoved her in, followed her, and pulled the door shut behind him.

  She looked up at him questioningly. He’d never done that before. He’d always given her a few moments of privacy to take care of her business.

  “I can’t pee with you in here.” There were some things a girl didn’t do before a potential lover. “They’ll think we’re going to hook up.”

  His reckless grin added to her wariness. “If they believe I’m finally going to take you, it’ll buy us some extra time, which is what I’m hoping for.” He turned on the sink faucets, opened the showerhead to full blast, and stripped off his clothes. He rolled up his jeans.

  Aimee’s belly did a happy dance, and the flesh between her legs throbbed. “Are you going to?” she asked with a mixture of hope and fear of the consequences.

  Micah let out a dismissive snort. “I sure as hell am not going to lay you down on the filthy piss-soaked bathroom floor the first time I make love to you. Get naked and use my shirt to tie the clothes up into a bundle.”

  Heck, this might be the only time they would ever have alone together. She wanted him with a fervency of a woman whose man was going off to war, knowing he might not return.

  “We could do it standing up, with my back to the wall and my legs wrapped around your hips.” She licked her lips at the image in her head. “Or I can face the wall, and you could take me from behind.”

  He let out a groan, cradling her head between his huge hands, and took her mouth in a hot, all too brief kiss. “Behave yourself. I’ll be taking you in every way imaginable, soon, but not here.” His words were more than a promise, they were a vow.

  With that said, he leaped up onto the pedestal sink and stepped onto a metal support brace. He clambered up the wall until he reached a two by two window several feet above her head. Muscles bulging, he removed the inexplicably loose window from its frame. A salt-tinged breeze gusted through the opening and diffused the stale urine permeating the tiny room. She took a deep breath of her first smell of freedom in a long time.