Free to Love (The Tribe MC: Chase of Prey Book 3)

by West, Heather

  Cara was not afraid that her child would be born evil, but she knew that he would possess the same capacity for evil as all humans, and all of the Fallen. What was more, he would have a family history to live down — he would always be known as the nephew of the shape-shifting son of the cursed Queen and her Wolf lover. He would have to be taught how to temper the wild magic in his veins and the Wolf lurking below his skin.

  His own parents were both Tribe and Fallen. It would be up to her and Sebastian to make sure that their son did not repeat the history that his uncle Gregory had written.

  “Hospitals are for sissies.”

  Sebastian scowled at her. “Are you calling me a sissy?”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it. I need to be ready for trial next week — how about you open that file over there and start briefing me?”

  Sebastian’s eyebrows arched. “Are you serious? You’re thinking about a case at a time like this?”

  “It’s going to be hours yet, Sebastian. I might as well do something that makes me feel better.”

  Sebastian sat down on the grass next to her and picked up the file. Cara noticed that his fingers were shaking slightly as he did so. “I don’t know how a murder case will make things any easier for you today.”

  “Because the defendant has been accused of murder before and he’s always gotten off. This time he’s going to jail; I’m going to make sure of it. That’s what he deserves.”

  “Spoken like a true member of the Kris family.” Sebastian brushed a light kiss across her cheek as he placed to the folder in her outstretched hands.

  “Ah, but you are also a member of my family now. Maybe we should get you into law school.”

  “At this point I think med school would’ve been a better choice.”

  “I think it may be a little too late for med school. You would look awful cute in a nurse’s uniform though.” Sebastian roared with laughter, which relieved Cara greatly. There would not be much to laugh about soon if her vision came true.

  She had told Sebastian about the vision she’d had the night that the Hunters had come in and killed so many of the Fallen. When she became pregnant, he had insisted that there was no way in hell she would to have the baby out here at this house. He was not going to chance a rogue attack her while she was having their child.

  Cara had told him that it would be inevitable, that no matter where they went, no matter how far away they ran, fate would conspire to bring them back here to this place. Destiny was a wheel, and you could spin it as many times as you liked, but you would always wind up back in the same spot eventually.

  Sebastian had not wanted to hear that, but after four months of Tribe women telling him the same thing, and Nico’s insistence that Cara’s vision would come to pass, he had finally relented. Sebastian had been working for months to make sure that Cara and his child would be as safe as possible when the time came, but Cara could tell by his aura that he was still worried. Not afraid, but worried.

  She smiled up at him and asked, “Do you miss it sometimes?”

  “Miss what exactly?” His eyes went to one of her nipples, plumped out now with the beginning of what promised to be an ample supply of milk for the infant. He placed his index finger on that nipple and stroked lightly, moving his fingertips slowly in gentle circles, barely brushing the flesh and sending shivers all the way through her body.

  “All of it. The motorcycle club, running in packs, Hunting. The last several years have been very quiet. You’ve been living the life of a rather sedate businessman and a husband. Do you miss the wildness?”

  “There is nothing, and I do mean nothing, that could ever replace this. Besides, I still have my motorcycle. If you’d listened to me, we could’ve taken it out for a ride earlier today and shaken our little bundle of joy loose from your womb.”

  Cara gave him a reproving glance. “I take it back. You would make an awful doctor. What doctor would recommend riding a motorcycle to induce labor?”

  “Doctor Sebastian,” he said smugly. She chuckled as she opened the file and began perusing its contents.

  “Are you hungry?” Sebastian asked.

  “I am absolutely starving. Unfortunately, I can’t eat now that this has started. You wouldn’t want me to spew chunks all over you, would you?”

  “It’s not the chunks I’m afraid of; I’m afraid I might find myself trying to grab a slippery skyrocketing infant.”

  Cara’s laughter was genuine. It rose high in the air and when she was done laughing, her belly was weak from that mirth. The contractions had eased some and she was grateful for that, just as she was grateful for his presence there beside her. His hand clasped her shoulder and he moved the file aside long enough to lean down and kiss her deeply.

  “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His voice held a ring of reverence.

  “And I still think you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever known. I love our life, Sebastian. I never thought we would even get to have one together, but here we are.”

  Neither of them mentioned the fact that they might be facing death that very night. There was a slithering sound from the trees. Sebastian tensed slightly. His posture gave away nothing and he didn’t turn his head to look through the foliage. They both knew that the small bushes between the trees would conceal any would–be attackers; by the time an attacking rogue made it to the clearing where she lay, it would be too late to hold it back.

  The pulse in her throat quickened. Despite all her protests to the contrary, Cara was terrified. But there was no fighting destiny. She’d learned that the hard way.

  Another contraction hit, harder and longer than the previous ones. Sebastian said, “They’re still ten minutes apart. What does that mean?”

  “It means that it’s going to be a long time yet.”

  There was food in a basket beside them and Cara insisted that Sebastian eat. She watched him, her eyes tracing the ridge of the scar on his right cheekbone. That scar would have ruined most men’s faces, but it just made Sebastian even sexier, like a rugged pirate. It made little tingles break out in her belly to consider how good he would look in some tight leather pants, shirtless and standing before a mast with a sword in his hand.

  The scar wasn’t the only thing left from Gregory’s attack: Sebastian now had a slight, barely noticeable limp. Gregory had taken a chunk out of his leg, and not even Sebastian’s incredible healing abilities could replace missing flesh.

  She concentrated on her files, thinking of all the work she had put in to get to where she was today. She was indeed a prosecutor, as she’s dreamed. She worked for the state, and while the pay was lousy, the rewards were not. In the four months that she been working for the prosecutor’s office, she’d managed to put away two of the city’s most violent drug dealers.

  She knew that she was fortunate. Nobody had ever connected her to the Tribe or the Fallen, nor had they managed to connect Sebastian to it. When the legal furor had finally calmed down, the Hunters on the police force had ensured that the press never knew about the werewolves running amok in the city.

  They also managed to spin it so that they got the credit for chasing the big bad biker clubs out of town. Overall, it was a win, but there were days when Cara would pass Detective Johnson in the hallways of the courthouses and he would stop and give her a long and lingering look. He never had to say anything, and neither did she. Sebastian was a Wolf, and the Hunter would always be watching, ready to take up a weapon and kill Sebastian if he thought it was necessary.

  Sebastian wasn’t bothered by that fact. He knew that the detective felt that he owed Sebastian his life, and Sebastian had no wish to go back to a life of crime. Cara did not either. Now that Nico and Moira were married and Devon was no longer in danger of being murdered by a jealous cousin, they had become an almost normal family. That is, if you considered ex-bikers who cast spells, saw the future and turned into wolves to be anything resembling “normal.”

  Dusk began to settl
e on the open field. A light breeze ruffled the trees, making the bells and charm bottles that hung from their limbs clatter musically. The cheerful tinkling could not take Cara’s mind off of the contractions that were coming harder now, mere minutes apart.

  The pain was intense, racing through her like lightning, and she had to clench her teeth together to keep from screaming. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was let Sebastian know how bad it hurt. He had enough on his mind.

  Night was falling now. The purple shadows were being overtaken by blackness. The wind picked up, and there was a sigh from the treetops. A faint moon shone in the indigo dome of the sky. The first faint pricks of starlight showed, and the jaybirds silenced as the night birds began to sing.

  Sebastian stood and stretched all over, flexing his lean body. She loved to watch that tensing and loosening of his muscles, the way he put both hands into the small of his back and leaned backwards so that his hips came forward. The bulge in his jeans was always more prominent at that moment and she wondered if he knew it. If he was teasing her now, it was a really bad time. She doubted even his lovemaking would ease the pain, and she was also pretty sure if he even suggested anything like that, she would coldcock him.

  Sebastian spoke. “I’m going to go inside and grab some ice and towels. Will you be okay out here?”

  His eyes searched hers and she nodded encouragingly but he hesitated.

  “Go.” Her word was soft but the spell that she put behind it was not. Cara hated to use a spell on Sebastian, but he would not have left otherwise.

  As she watched him go, she had the fleeting thought that spells might actually come in handy; perhaps she could use it to help their child be less difficult. A sharp kick in her ribs let her know that that probably was not going to be the case and she chuckled softly as she ran her fingers over her belly once more.

  That flesh tightened as another contraction hit her. Her eyes closed but she snapped them back open. Now was not the time to be caught off-guard, not even for a single moment.

  She sat up, and then slowly rose herself to her feet. The wrap she wore around her hips was knotted below the bulge of her belly. She could see the end of the wrap as it trailed near the earth, but she could not see where it began. “I’m going to love you all my life, you know, but I will sure as hell be happy when I can see my own thighs again.”

  Her breasts were bare, gleaming under the rapidly increasing moonlight. She waited, holding her breath until she remembered to breathe. Red lights, some lower to the ground than others, glowed through the foliage. Cara stared at them, dread and disgust threatening to overwhelm her.

  She stepped forward, one foot leaving the blanket that the women of the her tribe had made for her. She dug her toes deep into the soil, connecting to the earth and all the living things upon it.

  She could feel the stringy blades of the grass, the small creep of a bug across her toe and the cool black soil as it stained her feet. Above her, a nightingale sang and an owl called mournfully across the woods.

  Music started. A violin, sobbing softly, while a drum began beating slowly. Her belly went rigid again, tightening so much that it felt like steel bands had been clamped around her middle and were being screwed down tightly with a vise. When she could breathe again, she stepped forward.

  The small flickering red lights grew brighter and the rustling sounds grew louder. She heard a growl, low and urgent. She could smell rogues. Hungry rogues.

  What none of them had counted on, what Gregory could not have known, was that the rogues would eventually lose their ability to shift back into the human state. It was his blood that had given them that ability, and they didn’t have enough of it. They had found themselves unable to shift back to human shape and they had taken refuge, forced to live as wolves outside the city, eating small animals and the occasional alligator or crocodile. Since his death, they had been waiting for this child who would be able to give them what Gregory had once given them: the ability to shift their shape while still being able to eat human flesh.

  That was the true difference between rogues and Wolves. The rogues who could shift their shape thanks to Gregory’s blood and magic had wanted to eat human flesh and reside in it as well. But nature could not tolerate such a thing.

  Cara knew that their brains had devolved as well. It was impossible for them to maintain their humanity. What they did know was that here, in this forest, was the smell of the blood that they wanted most.

  They would have come eventually. Cara was eager to put this final chapter of horror behind her, so she took a slow breath and moved closer to the screen of shrubs and bushes.

  Night fell. She could see shadowy shapes, vague outlines. The flickering red eyes of the wolves gathered tightly together and she knew that they were forming the pack, that they would come now. They would savage her and kill her child in order to have the blood that they so craved.

  A rogue leaped out from behind the bushes and she lifted a hand, wondering if her vision would be correct, and it was. Nothing happened. Her magic was gone. Her magic had not worked against Gregory because he was Tribe, but this was different: these rogues were merely vicious and violent animals.

  She heard the roar of the motorcycle. It was Sebastian — he had stuck to the plan and was riding to the rescue, his lean body clad in silver, his motorcycle flashing in the moonlight.

  Another contraction hit her, and this time, she screamed. It wasn’t a scream of pain, though; it was a scream of rage. She would not allow these animals to kill her child.

  Blood trickled down her legs and the need to push was more intense than it had ever been before. Sebastian rode toward her, but the rogues were too intent on their prey to care about the danger.

  The first rogue jumped and Sebastian was there. He hit it with the silver wheel cover of his bike. The wheel cover cut a large chunk in the rogue’s skin and its screamed a high–pitched scream that raised the hair on the back of Cara’s neck. He leveled a shotgun at another rogue, accelerating as he drew closer. There was a roar of fire and smoke as the shotgun went off. Another rogue went down, writhing in pain as the silver bullet, inscribed with Tribe runes, burst through its body.

  That rogue gasped out its last breath, but the first one, merely wounded, was only angered. It made its move, racing away from the motorcycle in order to try to flank Cara. The rogues split up. There were at least a dozen of them forming a semi-circle, streaming around the motorcycle. While Sebastian was reloading and firing madly into their midst, several of them were passing him.

  The motorcycle left deep circles in the grass, churning up mud and blood as Sebastian swung around and pursued the wolves. Cara could not see his face, but she could see his aura. It was a bright crisp purple, accented with heavy bolts of gray and red. He was terrified that the wolves would get to her, that he would fail her that he would lose her and his child.

  Cara tried another spell, but nothing came except another contraction. She fell to her knees, unable to withstand the pain. A rogue’s teeth snapped in the air only inches from where her face had been just seconds before.

  Sebastian drew abreast of her and his booted foot lashed out, kicking the rogue away from her, but there were more coming. The blood pouring from her body was luring them closer. The silver on her body and the runes she had painted on earlier were deterrents, but they would not be enough.

  Sebastian tossed her a long silver knife and she buried it deep within a rogue’s throat. These rogues were out for the precious blood of her child.

  And she was going to give it to them.

  Sebastian held them at bay so that she could stagger back onto her blanket. It was time; Cara barely made it. By the time she sank to her knees again, she was exhausted and dizzy, so scared that she didn’t even know if she could deliver her own baby.

  “It’s alright, child.”

  The voice belonged to Sebastian’s mother, Nemia, who had somehow materialized in the clearing, along with Olivia and several other Tribe
women. The women quickly pressed her down on the blanket and began helping her bring her child into the world.

  Sebastian was beyond terrified, but not for himself. He wasn’t afraid that the rogues would kill him — he was afraid they would kill his wife and child.

  Cara was the bravest woman he’d ever met. He knew that he should have said no to this crazy scheme, but he also knew that if they were going to put an end to the rogues once and for all, that this was the only way that could be.

  A rogue came too close and he whipped the bike around, pressing the smoking exhaust pipe into its face. The stink of burning fur rose into the night. Sebastian gagged as the rogue howled loudly and loped away.

  He heard Cara screaming and he knew that she was giving birth to his child. He wanted to go there, to see that baby. Their baby! Joy flooded through him, tempered with his fear and his need for focus. He was the only thing standing between their child and a gruesome death.

  The moonlight shone against the metal rivets of his leather jacket. The Fallen emblem was still emblazoned across the back of that jacket, and in his heart he knew that he was honoring his father in the only way that he could. He was honoring all those who had died, human and Fallen alike.

  A cry broke the night — the sharp, startled cry of an infant newly brought into the world. Sebastian’s heart nearly stopped.

  Cara stared in wonder at the red, wrinkled face of her baby. He was perfect, beautiful and tiny. She had to take a moment and count all of his precious little fingers and his delicate toes. They were all there.

  His eyes opened and she began to weep. They were not the eyes of an infant; they were the eyes of a wise old soul. She rose, holding her baby to her breasts. Nemia cut the umbilical cord and relieved her of the afterbirth as she stood, holding her child.

  The strength she had expended was incredible. If she had not drawn energy from the earth before this child’s birth, she would never have been able to do it. She took a few steps, her legs wobbling like a newborn colt’s.