by R. J. Blain
My beautiful cariña was truly a treasure. “That is truly cold, clever, and ruthless. Your father will be so proud when he learns of this. Who is it you plan to torture so?”
If she told me, I could warn her father and her victim before someone got hurt or killed.
“You swear you won’t say anything?”
I sighed again. Maybe I wouldn’t tell them then, and I would pray for the wellbeing of her intended targets. “I swear.”
If I had to become an accomplice, maybe with a little luck, the mystery of the male’s scent would be solved. A few tentative sniffs informed me she’d taken precautions to hide his mark on her, wearing perfumes close to a Fenerec’s signature, although not close enough to trick my nose. Whoever he was, he must have coached her on how to hide their bond, which meant he didn’t want Charles Desmond to find out about his claim on my goddaughter.
How interesting, the ruse Desmond’s daughter pulled.
“Richard Murphy,” she snarled, and her disgust dripped from her tone.
Ah, the Silvered Wolf. Her desire for revenge made sense; without him, she wouldn’t have faced so much trauma. Her method intrigued me. I knew of him, and I feared whenever he came into my territory. Only Desmond worried me more, although for different reasons.
I’d lose in a fight against the Inquisition’s prime enforcer, and I knew how he’d end my life. It made it easy enough to respect Charles Desmond and keep a friendship of sorts with the old wolf. The Silvered Wolf ignored the traditions of pack life. He might kill me easily if he wanted. He might steal my pack. He might take or ruin my business ventures.
I didn’t know what Richard Murphy would do, which worried me most of all.
I considered the man, and understanding struck me. “A Porsche, Cariña?”
Nicolina claimed her duffle bag and dragged it to her kitchenette. “I wanted a 911, but I couldn’t find one old enough. I got a 912. I bartered for it and the required work; I’m helping him with paperwork for his shop, and I gave him a prepaid credit card worth fifteen hundred. The body needs work, but most of the parts are in good condition, and what doesn’t work he’s fixing before shipping. We’re matching hours for the labor.” Halting in front of her sink, she turned to face me, her eyes wide. I realized she hoped for my approval, something she got so very little of.
My poor cariña.
“A brilliant gift, and an even better revenge. May I never earn your scorn. This 912. Is it nice?”
“It will be. If I can get a part-time job, I can have the frame restored and the whole thing painted. The guy can do the work. He specializes in classics.”
While I worked on cars too, I handled modern, American-made vehicles or new foreign luxury models. If work was what she desired, I could provide it. “Then part-time work you will have. This mechanic of yours is not the only one with paperwork. My hours will be most flexible, yes? I can offer you an advance, and the taxes you will calculate so you can have your funds for your revenge. This works for you, yes?”
For such a little thing, my goddaughter moved fast and hit hard, slamming into me in her enthusiasm. I hugged her back, breathing in deep and taking advantage of her closeness to investigate the subtle hint of her male. It lingered, confirming my suspicions.
She had found herself a mate, and my wolf believed the bond too strong to tempt other males into misguided attempts to take her away from the male who had won her. Only a bond both actively desired and nourished would warn away my wolf and repel his interest.
Whoever he was, she loved him. I had no other explanation for her subterfuge and his scent. Once I found out who, I would take care to ensure he knew to properly treasure my cariña.
“You mean it?”
“Of course. It will be an honor to help you secure such an interesting revenge on the Silvered Wolf. The packs will speak of this for years to come and taunt him should he fail to put it back together. Your challenge will infuriate him and drive him to the brink of insanity.”
Nicolina’s scent sweetened from her delight. “You think so?”
Comprehension stole my breath. A male’s scent clung to her. She hunted the Silvered Wolf, an Alpha who hadn’t mated for longer than most had been Fenerec. Even I, who still searched, had not been so long in hunting, despite it taking me four years to move beyond the death of my mate almost a decade ago.
If my cariña had accepted the Silvered Wolf, I understood their reluctance; Charles Desmond had invited Yellowknife’s Alpha to his home to prevent his puppies from mating, not to establish a pairing.
“I know so.”
“Good. The rat must suffer.”
In the future, when the couple no longer attempted to hide their bond, I would send him a sympathy card and extend an offer of safe haven so he might escape my goddaughter’s wickedness. “So he must.”
Releasing me, she returned to the kitchenette and began the tedious process of lining up car parts on the granite countertop. I grimaced at the thought of all the grease to clean but refrained from criticism. “How is your new spider friend?”
“I think Kitty Killer’s okay. He crawled on my hand this morning. I didn’t scream.”
Why had she named such a magnificent creature such a thing? “Well done. And did he throw his hairs?”
“Amazingly, no.”
“Soon enough, you will take him from his tank, yes?”
“I’ll think about it.”
I laughed. Before I had a chance to reply, my phone rang. Digging my cell from my pocket, I answered, “Pedro.”
“It’s Charles,” my old friend said, his voice sharp. “I need you for a hunt.”
“This doesn’t sound promising.” Why would he want me for a hunt? Of the west coast Alphas, I was one of the few who preferred to avoid violence. When I killed, I used a gun loaded with silver, and I did so with care. “I don’t hunt often or well, old friend.”
“Not that sort of hunt. I need you to do a retrieval—a negotiation. It’s a live capture, and you’re the best one for the work.”
I relaxed. Soon enough, I would ask for details, but other matters came first. “Your puppy is quite energetic. As it happens, I was just checking in on her.”
“Ah, good. Take her with you. It’ll be a good chance for her to have a more positive Inquisition experience. Here, talk to Wendy. She’ll explain the situation.”
I frowned. “It seems your father takes us for servants, Cariña.”
“I heard that,” Charles howled, his voice distant on the line.
“Ignore him,” Wendy murmured. “Nicolina’s all right?”
“She’s quite energetic, ma’am.”
“Good. Charles is on his way to Yellowknife, so you’ll be working with me.”
I sighed, wondering how one Alpha could be so cursed. “More trouble in Yellowknife?”
Nicolina’s eyes widened, and she stared at me, her face paling. “What’s going on?”
I shrugged and held up a finger to buy some time to speak to my goddaughter’s mother. “What has happened?”
“Have you watched the news?”
The news? I frowned. “Not today.”
“There was a hostage situation at Seattle’s airport. They took Richard to fly a plane. He crashed it in the mountains. The culprits died in the crash, and Richard took off as a wolf. We need you to track him down and bring him to Stanford. Once Charles has everyone calmed down in Yellowknife, he’ll come to fetch Richard. Put him with Nicolina; he’s very protective of young bitches this time of year, so she can help keep him occupied.”
Snorting my laughter would reveal far too much about what my goddaughter and the Silvered Wolf would inevitably be doing, and I had no doubt they would keep each other very occupied. “Tell me where.”
“Yosemite, near Mount Dana. Hunt well and take wolfsbane with you. Richard’s ridiculously sensitive to it. Try to avoid taking Nicolina with you, no matter what her father says. I don’t think she needs to see him hurt again. She’s seen enough.”
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“All right. I shall go now. I’ll call you with news.”
“Thank you, Pedro.” Wendy hung up.
“What’s wrong?” Nicolina whispered.
Lies would serve me best; if she panicked and the Silvered Wolf detected it, he would be harder to bring in without a fight. “Nothing to worry about, Cariña. The Silvered Wolf is merely a stubborn troublemaker. I must go run an errand for your parents. Your part is simple. Your couch. I will need to borrow it for a few nights, for a friend.”
So many lies I told her, but she wouldn’t mind them once she learned the identity of my friend. “Your project. Perhaps you could take it to my shop, yes? Find a spot, make it yours. It would not do for there to be grease on the counters when company is expected.”
My goddaughter wrinkled her nose. “Ugh. Father wants me to play hostess?”
“I am afraid so.”
“Damn it. What a jerk.”
“Now, now, Cariña. It shows he trusts you. Is that not a good thing?”
“If you say so.” My goddaughter sighed. “How nice. I’m so thrilled. Lucky me.”
I laughed, patted her shoulder, and left before she added me to her list of targets.
While I had met the Silvered Wolf several times in the past, I hunted with caution, wearing a dust mask to protect myself from the wolfsbane. I spritzed a mixture of water and the powder on my clothes, so if he bit me, a single order would be enough to contain him.
I took a dart gun too, just in case.
Several hours after leaving Stanford, I parked my truck deep in the mountains as the chill of night blanketed the park. There were many ways I could approach the situation. Injured Fenerec often descended into violence. Fighting an Alpha strong enough to challenge Desmond wouldn’t end well for me.
As punishment for sending me out for the Silvered Wolf, I would encourage my goddaughter to yank her father’s tail, and I would provide everything she needed to pursue revenge to her heart’s desire. Sighing, I drew in a deep breath, tilted my head back, and howled. If he held onto his wits, the Silvered Wolf would hear my call and feel the magic binding me to my pack.
He might interpret my call as a challenge or an invitation to join in the hunt. I didn’t care which, as long as it lured him to me.
Then again, I courted trouble with him. His mate’s scent on me would cause many problems if he forgot she lived in my care. I tilted my head and listened.
While faint and weak, a howl answered mine, and the tingle of pack magic washed over me. Until I got a better idea of the distance, my wolf would worry. He didn’t like the thought of an injured, rival male so close to our territory. Worse, knowing someone had captured such a strong wolf frightened him.
The Silvered Wolf protected the packs from Desmond and the Inquisition as much as Desmond protected Normals from the packs while enforcing the Inquisition’s rules. Without Richard Murphy around, all North American packs would suffer.
Many more would die.
I remembered life before the Silvered Wolf. I hadn’t been an Alpha then, my English so poor I struggled to find work, alone within the pack. When he had begun establishing his businesses in California, he had arranged for me to learn English and gave me a chance to work as a mechanic. In the early days, he had owned my shop and my home until I could pay them off. There’d been middlemen involved, but the Silvered Wolf had been behind the efforts to integrate me better into society while hiding me and my wolf from Normals.
We hadn’t met often, but I owed him.
It took thirty minutes of driving around the twisty mountain roads to locate the source of the howls. My headlights illuminated a dark shape, large enough to make me question my sanity for even considering leaving the safety of my truck. I cracked open my door.
“Mr. Murphy?”
A growl answered my whispered question. I lifted my hands, the dart gun within easy reach on my dashboard. “Mr. Desmond and his mate asked me to take you to Stanford, where you’ll stay with their daugh—”
At least three hundred pounds of wolf rammed me aside on his way into my truck. I grunted and ended up trapped between the seat and his furry body while he scrambled over me. I stared at him, decided to take my chances, and gingerly closed the door.
For the first—and hopefully last—time in my life, a Fenerec bathed my face with an overly wet tongue.
Thanks to Richard Murphy’s inappropriate slobbering, I suffered from a mild dose of wolfsbane. “How disgusting. You licked me.”
The subject of my displeasure ignored me, passed out on the seat, unaware of my complaints. In such close quarters, I could detect traces of blood in the air, evidence the other Alpha hadn’t emerged from the crash unscathed.
I shot him in the flank with a low dose of wolfsbane to be safe, insignificant enough it’d wear off most wolves within an hour. I’d dose him again later at my cariña’s apartment to give her a chance to settle him down before its influence faded. Once certain the dart had done its job, I pulled it out.
My nose confirmed my suspicions, and my amusement warred with my worry. Dosed with wolfsbane, the Silvered Wolf would pose no risk to my goddaughter, not even when injured. I’d leave him for her entertainment.
Charles Desmond would not be pleased when he found out. For my little cariña’s sake, her father would not learn the truth from me. I would give her a belated Christmas present by teaching them how to better hide their scents without them being aware I knew the truth.
Their secret would remain safe in my keeping.
I delayed my return to Stanford until I had a chance to shovel over fifty pounds of raw, fresh meat down the Silvered Wolf’s throat. Neither one of us enjoyed the task, but the mate of my cariña or not, I would not allow him near her while hungry. By the time I reached her apartment, I longed for sleep and something tough to chew on. I muzzled Yellowknife’s Alpha, who snarled at me but didn’t bite.
The collar and leash added insult to injury, but I ignored his complaints until I had him ready to take inside. “You will be my precious goddaughter’s service dog until you leave my territory. You will obey her, yes?”
The Silvered Wolf covered his teeth and quieted.
“Very good. Come this way, then. I do not normally allow furred beasts into my buildings, but for her, I will make an exception. To help her with recent traumas. You understand?”
He nodded.
“Very good.” I led him upstairs and knocked on Nicolina’s door. She yanked it open. Before she could say a word, I thrust the Alpha’s leash into her hands. “Mr. Murphy will be staying on your couch.” I nudged the Silvered Wolf with my foot. “You will do every last thing she says, yes? Do be quiet and obedient during your stay. Cariña, I will bring food for him in a few hours. I will call you first. I’m sure your father will come for him someday soon. A few days, perhaps? Should he give you trouble, do call me.”
Taking a step back, I took out my dart gun and shot the Alpha in the rump. He yipped and limped forward to cower against my goddaughter’s legs.
“Pedro!”
“Obey her,” I ordered, turning on a heel to leave. If she was wise, she would take advantage of the opportunity provided to her. I‘d help her along the way, and if she questioned why I gifted her with cinnamon and spiced shampoos, body washes, sprays, and bath salts, I would be telling the truth when I said she deserved to be pampered. It wasn’t much, but it would do for now.
Five
Jake: Meeting Karma
The body was tangled in a branch overhead, and I had no idea how he’d gotten up there. In life, the vic had been a white male in his mid-thirties, tall, a little on the gangly side, and built like an oversized, scrawny bird. I crossed my arms, looking him over from head to toe.
Someone had wanted him dead, and they didn’t want us figuring out who had killed him. The gunshot wound between the eyes had definitely been fatal. Had it really been necessary to strangle him, decorate his body with bruises, and shoot him in the chest three times, too?
>
If I didn’t know better, I would have thought the man was a werewolf. I took a deep breath. According to my nose, the vic wasn’t a Fenerec like me. He wasn’t even a witch, although his human scent was buried beneath the harsh fumes of bleach.
Someone had put a lot of effort into making certain he was dead, and when they had finished killing him, they had cleaned up after themselves. If forensics found anything useful, I’d be impressed.
Stuffing the body in one of Maryland’s last old American chestnuts ensured the forensics team would have their hands tied through the investigation. If we hurt the tree, we’d be joining the vic in an early grave.
I hadn’t been in the Baltimore-Washington area for more than four hours, and I was already on a shit case. To make matters worse, I was on a shit case while dressed in my favorite t-shirt and jeans, both of which should have been retired years ago. I’d already been approached by four cranky cops determined to remove civilians from the crime scene. My FBI badge made them go away without me having to snarl at them.
The icing on the cake would be the arrival of my new partner, who would take one good look at me and decide I was useless. I sighed, wondering why I had gone along with the unexpected transfer.
Why hadn’t I insisted on getting some information on my partner before I showed up at the crime scene? I huffed and returned my attention to the vic. I was aware of someone approaching from behind. I sniffed and identified the newcomer as a human female.
My wolf liked the faint scent of soil about her, a hint of wildness most humans lacked. I ignored both the woman and my wolf, trying to decide how the vic had gotten twisted in the tree. The lack of abrasions on the body eliminated falling as an option, not that he had anywhere to fall from except other trees. The nearest building was at least fifty feet away, too far for him to have been tossed from the roof.
