Cold Mercy (Northern Wolves)

by Sadie Hart

  All in all, pride life should have been a bonus.

  The woman on screen screamed as the man in the mask jumped out at her. Kanon tossed another kernel of popcorn in his mouth. Stupid woman. They were all too stupid to live in movies like this. Didn’t anyone know when to look behind them?

  A soft creak sounded from the porch and Kanon gave an irritated huff. Except, pride life meant he was suddenly responsible for a handful of others. Their kids, their families. Born a rogue, he didn’t have much need for a big family. Didn’t like having to watch everyone else’s backs. He wasn’t good at it. He liked his space and his freedom. Aside from Tegan, Kanon much preferred to be left alone.

  And in the end, the pride intruded as much as the damned Hounds did. He couldn’t even watch a movie in peace. The floorboard creaked again, the whisper of it almost lost completely under the wail of the dying woman on screen. But it’d moved around the wraparound porch to the side of the house. Someone sneaking in, then. It wouldn’t be the first time one of the pride females had tried to sneak in. Lionesses in heat didn’t tend to think about much beyond the urgent need to mate.

  Then again, if Kanon was fair, nor did most males. He just wasn’t the father type. That, and he already had Tegan.

  Soft footfalls and the quiet groan of the aging floorboards allowed Kanon to track her progress to the window he’d left open in the dining room, hoping to let in a cooling breeze. No luck. Which meant he also couldn’t catch the intruder’s scent. Kanon munched on a handful of popcorn and stared blankly at the movie, every other sense on high as he tracked the person sneaking into his house.

  Could also be another male, looking to try to take over the pride. He tensed, but waited. Listening. Kanon knew the moment a shoe touched the hardwood floor in his dining room, and right then he had another piece of the puzzle. Whoever it was, she was soft and easy on her feet, like a huntress stalking a zebra. Definitely female. No male lion moved that lightly on his feet.

  The steps paused, just a brief hesitation before creeping closer to him, but she didn’t rush. She was clever enough to wait until she was sure he was actually watching the movie. He felt like grinning. This was almost fun.

  She paused close to the room, if not in it, and Kanon had to force himself not to turn his head. Instead, he inhaled a quiet breath, keeping it slow and easy as he tried to catch her scent. Definitely female, but beyond that he wasn’t sure. There was no wind to work in his favor, and just then Tegan’s stupid air freshener let out a blast of cinnamon so strong it burned his nose. Another TV victim fell dead.

  “You know I’m here,” the woman said.

  “Honey, I knew you were there the moment you stepped on my porch. Just figured I’d wait and see what you were gonna do.” He didn’t look, though, damn, he wanted to. Instead, he waited for her to decide; let her figure out her next move. She sounded sultry. Like the kind of woman that could lure a man to his grave just by the sound of her voice. Like a siren in the middle of the damned ocean.

  She’d made it this far. What was she going to do now? Bail and run or keep on coming? A wave of desire flooded him at that last thought. Please keep on coming. He wanted to see where this would go. It was already more entertaining than the movie.

  “Kanon Reyes?”

  Tension crept into a knot between his shoulders. “That depends, doesn’t it?”

  Carefully, he set the bowl on the carpet and slid to the edge of the couch, turning to get a good look at the woman in his living room. Damn. She had dirt all over the front of her clothes, and her skin-toned tank top clung to every curve of her body. Her combat boots looked worn and comfortable, wrapped lovingly around strong legs. She also had the reddest hair he’d ever seen.

  But she wasn’t a lioness.

  Kanon’s gaze drifted to the gun holster and the ugly butt of the gun he’d bet was packing silver.

  His nostrils flared as he sucked her scent down deep.

  Canine. Kanon cringed. Hound. Fuck.

  “Who are you?”

  “Lennox Donnelly.” He saw the glint of silver cuffs dangling out from her back pocket as she took a step forwards, confirming his suspicions. Shifter Town Enforcement. If they’d sent a dog after him, it’d be a ridgeback.

  Probably a whole damned pack.

  “Kanon Reyes...”

  “Save it.”

  There was a creak on the front porch again, faint. Heavier. Male this time. Damn.

  So they had sent a pack.

  She reached a hand around and tugged out her badge.

  The steps on the porch headed straight for them. Confident, quick. Her attention flicked to the door, her body going tense as she reached to pull her gun. Not a Hound, then. He was on his feet before he heard the key slip into the lock, moving to block her shot. He reached out toward her with one hand, the word coming on a low growl, “Don’t.”

  Her gaze locked with his. She didn’t give a rat’s ass what he wanted, and Kanon stepped toward her, violence boiling deep in his gut, threatening to erupt. Her eyes turned hard as she leveled the gun on him, but at least it wasn’t aimed at Tegan.

  The door swung open and his partner stepped in, black hair shaggy around his face. Tegan froze. His growl was instantaneous as he glanced from one to the other, before turning to face off squarely with the woman pointing a gun at Kanon. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “Lennox Donnelly,” Kanon said before she could spit it out. “And she was just about to explain why she thinks she’s supposed to arrest me.”

  But he knew. He just wanted to hear it from her. Hear one of Shifter Town Enforcement’s many little lies. She stiffened, shoulders tensing, and he could almost picture her hackles rising all the way down her spine. Kanon swallowed.

  Hellfire. She was something different, all right. Not exactly beautiful…the gun, the rough and rugged edge to her, the fierce blaze of confidence in her eyes as she flicked her attention between them—calculating the risks. Drop dead was stamped all over her pretty little face, right along with the dust smears and the rust-colored hair, a few loose strands hanging around her face, bringing out the green in her eyes. Green that wouldn’t carry true to her dog.

  Even as she pointed a gun at him, he wanted her. His tongue made a wet line across his lower lip. He was every bit as stupid as the idiots in the movie screaming behind him. Worse, probably. No one in the movies ever got the hots for Michael Myers when he came after them with an axe.

  “You attacked a Hound.”

  No, he hadn’t. The son of a bitch had sucker-punched him. Kanon had just made damn sure he’d finished the fight. If the Hound hadn’t wanted to play with a lion, he shouldn’t have started it.

  “That was your dog’s fault, not Kanon’s.”

  Tegan took a step closer and Lennox stiffened, her gaze darting between them. She couldn’t shoot them both. With a slight baring of teeth, she holstered her weapon, briefly lifting both hands in a no-harm gesture. Confidence clung to her as she braced herself to stare them both down. She never once looked away. Never once backed down.

  “Look, I’m not here to argue or negotiate. I have a warrant for your partner’s arrest. That’s it. If you have an issue with it…”

  “I have an issue with it, honey,” Kanon drawled.

  The look she shot him was every bit as fiery as her copper red hair.

  “Then take it up with the courts.”

  “No. I’m taking it up with you. We both know in a court case between a Hound and a lion, I don’t stand a chance. You all are supposed to do whatever you’re ordered—”

  “And you don’t have an obedient bone in your body.”

  Kanon closed the distance between them in a single stride. She radiated heat, warmth, but he could now see the slightest tremor in her hands. Scared. But a cornered dog fought back. People were like that, too. She wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  “I didn’t start that fight, and the minute you lock me up, I’m a dead man.”

  He’d had issues wit
h Hounds in the past, and a lion with a troubled history wouldn’t get a jail cell; he’d get a short stay in a holding cell followed by a swift execution. Better dead than alive was Shifter Town Enforcement’s lion-shifter motto.

  Tegan grabbed his shoulder and squeezed, the tension zinging between them. Wild, restless. One look at Lennox, the calm professionalism stamped over her face, and certainty settled in his gut.

  They were going to have to kill a Hound. Kill this Hound.

  Spend the rest of their lives looking over their shoulders for something Kanon hadn’t even started. God damn it. He should have killed that stupid dog when he’d had the chance.

  “Then you shouldn’t have assaulted a Hound.”

  She reached for her cuffs when Tegan caught her wrist. “You are not taking my partner. Not for something he didn’t do.”

  The threat hung in the air.

  Lennox stiffened. “I could have you charged for obstructing justice. You’re not helping yourself, Mr. Sharpe.”

  “Tegan,” he said, and Kanon watched as Tegan gently took the cuffs from her hand, wincing at the touch of silver against his fingertips before he tossed them aside. They hit the hardwood with a soft clunk, but she didn’t move to grab them.

  The pulse in her neck jumped.

  Her lips thinned. Kanon watched as a subtle readiness settled in her muscles. Here came that fight.

  “Lennox,” Tegan said, imploring, but she bared her teeth at the sound of her name coming from him.

  Tegan gave her a grim smile.

  “Lennox,” he repeated, drawing it out, “Kanon did not attack your Hound. I have witnesses who could prove it. Your man swung first.”

  “So, what, you punched him back?”

  Kanon gave a quiet huff. The edge of a smile curling his lips. “Yeah. I did. Then he kept on hitting, and I thought, ‘Fine, I’ll play.’”

  He watched her lips thin, the corners lifting in a slight grimace.

  “I don’t start fights with Hounds. Tends to get me a bullet right here.” He poked his forehead. “Be kind of stupid, don’t you think?”

  “Lions don’t tend to think.” There was a sour note to her voice as she glanced away, staring back toward the dining room and the open window she’d climbed through. Kanon waited, watching as she ran down her options. She had to know. Sexy as she was to him right now, Kanon wasn’t going peacefully. Maybe if a cop had asked him to go downtown, sure. But a Hound? Downtown for them meant, hey, come see the electric chair. He’d pass.

  A sigh burst out of her, a sharp blast of breath as she took one last look at freedom and turned back to them with a nod. “And you have witnesses to prove this?”

  “Yeah,” Kanon said.

  “Then let’s hear what happened.”

  ***

  Tegan closed his eyes in relief. Yes. He didn’t know what he’d have done if...

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “Don’t thank me. Just open that handsome mouth of yours and start talking.”

  Tegan grinned. Handsome? One glance at Kanon, and Tegan could see his partner was half-smitten with the Hound already. Not that Tegan blamed him. She was big and she was bad, but Lennox Donnelly also had a heart. A fair streak. And he was going to run with that for all it was worth.

  “Anyone in the bar that night would vouch for Kanon. We’re regulars, never had an issue there before. Hell, the owners will vouch for that.” He didn’t add that Tristan and Carolyn Hale were also friends of theirs. Still, every bar regular and wait staff in that bar knew the two of them by sight, and they’d never once been in a tussle with someone there who hadn’t asked for it.

  The Hound had deserved it, but he didn’t say that part either. Not when she was beginning to sway. And sway she was, those sharp eyes considering his words, and Tegan pounced on that opening. “I’ll take you there myself. Kanon doesn’t start fights.”

  Normally. Lennox’s raised eyebrow told him she expected there was a ‘but’ to that, but she didn’t insist.

  “Fine, but I’m driving.” That was a bit too neat for Tegan’s taste. He shook his head, but even outmanned, Lennox wasn’t about to back down. “I’m not going to have Kanon bailing. You can drive separately, he can’t.”

  “You’re not exactly in a position to be bargaining,” Kanon said, but Tegan waved him off. She had a point, and they were already asking her to take one hell of a leap of faith already.

  “Fine. Your word, though, that you’ll see this through. You’ll give us a shot to prove Kanon’s clear.”

  Her eyes gave her away. Soft, and they glanced down at the question, almost submissive, but Tegan wasn’t foolish enough to think this Hound would ever be submissive.

  “Hounds don’t bargain with lions,” she whispered, only to drag her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared up at him. Her chin dipped in the faintest nod. “Fine. I swear to you, I’ll give you the chance to prove to me that your partner is innocent. I’ll go to the bar; I’ll meet your witnesses.

  “But I make the final call. If I don’t deem their statements accurate or believable, or if what they say contradicts you or each other, I’ll tote both of your asses off to Enforcement. Got it?”

  Tegan found himself smiling at her direct, fierce intensity. “Got it.”

  “Then where are we going?”

  Tegan couldn’t help it then. He let his gaze drift down over her dirt-layered pants, the tank top that was damn near the color of her skin. She wasn’t thin. At least not the wiry lean he was used to seeing in Hound females, where they could probably wear a bikini, but a sharp eye wouldn’t miss the jut of a hipbone beneath the skin.

  No, she was thicker. Still slender, but with muscle and weight to her. Something he was more used to seeing in lionesses than Hounds. Dirt smeared her cheeks, and her hair was a tousled mess of the reddest rust he’d ever seen. Several tendrils had fallen loose from a knot on the top of her head, and they dangled just out of reach. He itched to reach out and touch, to test the silk of it against his fingertips.

  Shit. Now he was every bit as smitten with her as Kanon.

  She’d agreed to let them prove it, and now he was thinking about running his hand through that long, long hair. Yeah. She’d just as soon break his hand as let him do that.

  Tegan caught Kanon’s eye, his partner giving him an impish grin, and Tegan couldn’t help but smile back. Kanon was a natural flirt, a joker, especially under stress. It was how he coped. Tegan opened his mouth to stop his partner, but Kanon beat him. With a gesture to her dirt-stained outfit, Kanon said, “You can’t wear that where we’re going.”

  Tegan covered his smile with a small cough.

  “Bullshit I can’t.” The muscle in her jaw flexed, tense, and he could see the warpath opening up between them. Damn, the woman would do battle with just about anything if a man riled her right. And the more stressed Kanon was, the more buttons he tended to push. Tegan winced as Kanon snatched a strand of that hair, knowing damn well his partner could blow everything. But at the same time, Tegan couldn’t quite blame him. He couldn’t say he’d be acting any better if there was a chance he’d be staring down a silver bullet tonight.

  And Tegan wanted to know what her hair felt like too.

  Club Metro would let just about anyone in as long as they were wearing clothes, but Tegan wanted to see her without the dirt, in clean clothes, with all that hair loosely draped over her shoulders. Actually, he really wanted to meet her without the possibility of Kanon’s arrest looming. It was hard not to like her, and if things went bad, she wasn’t going to walk away.

  She was either going to be on their side when the shit hit the fan, or she was going to end up dead when they ran. He hoped it was the first. Tegan watched as she caught Kanon’s hand, looking more than ready to fight. He’d invaded her space, and, damn, but she didn’t yield an inch. But it was more than that. She didn’t berate Kanon for touching her hair, didn’t suddenly decide to go back to trying to arrest him. She held her ground, almost
as if she’d already figured out that he was just dealing with the situation the best way he could. Laugh or cry, right?

  Tegan let out a low rumble, almost akin to a purr, and stepped closer, trapping her between them and the dining room. She could run, but she’d have to back down for that. Lennox Donnelly looked like she’d rather shoot them both first.

  But she was still trying to be the nice Hound. “I thought you wanted help.”

  Kanon looked her up and down from head to toe. “You’re filthy. Your hair is a mess. You have dirt smudged on your cheeks.”

  Kanon licked a finger and reached out to swab a spot when she jerked back, a laugh floating from her.

  “Is that your game? Seduce the Hound meant to drag you in?”

  “No, Tegan actually intends to take you to the bar.”

  Her gaze flitted back to Kanon. “And you?”

  Kanon lifted his shoulders in a shrug, his grin growing wider. “We can go to the bar.”

  “We are going to the bar. Unless your witnesses are fake. If that’s the case, then we’re all going down to Enforcement.”

  “They’re real,” Tegan whispered, heard the warmth in his own voice. She didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to tolerate any of this, and for a moment he really considered getting Kanon to quit teasing her. But hell, if the shit hit the fan tonight, he’d be damned if he didn’t get something good out of the night, too. He reached forwards and snatched a piece of her hair, giving it a small tug. “Then you should probably clean up. I can show you to the bathroom.”

  Her death glare would have been enough to make most men cower. It only turned Tegan on more. “I’m going as is.”

  Fighting back a laugh, Tegan let her hair go with a shrug. “Might as well roll you in a few mud puddles first.”

  Kanon snorted. “Or dump her down a manhole along the way.”

  “She does stink a little.”

  “Like wet dog.” Kanon edged closer, his hand finding the back of her neck just as she flattened her palm against his chest. A smile touched her lips, half amused, half warning.