Wolf's Cross: Book 4 (Loki's Wolves)

by Melissa Snark

  "You're blind if you can't see it. He's described their tattoos." He got into her face and shook her hard enough to rattle her teeth. Their auras clashed, setting the atmosphere ablaze with a light show to rival the aurora borealis.

  "Logan..." Victoria licked desert-dry lips, scrambling for any sort of balance. Serenity had never been in her nature, but never giving up no matter how many times she got knocked down—that she excelled at in spades. "Sawyer wouldn't have done this. None of them would've. Not Cali and not DNR."

  "How do you explain this then?" Releasing her, Logan swung his arm wide in pure disgust.

  "I don't. I can't."

  Logan's mouth curled in disgust. Glaring, he backed away from her. "I'm going to kill them—starting with Sawyer. They're a threat to the pack. I can see that even if you can't."

  "No." Infuriated, she lost her grip on reason. A red patina washed over her vision, tainting everything with its fiery glow.

  "No?" Narrow-eyed, Logan glared at her in challenge and open rebellion. Yet caution edged his regard, as if he wasn't quite sure about her.

  "I forbid it."

  "You... Forbid it?"

  "I forbid it." She tilted her face, forced to look up to hold his gaze.

  "And just how do you intend to stop me?"

  "I'm Alpha."

  "Alpha." He mocked her.

  "That's right—Alpha." At least until he deposed her.

  "That's contestable," he returned with an ugly smirk.

  Time to play her ace.

  "I'm going to remind you that you owe me." Victoria laid her hand upon Logan's chest over his heart, in the mark she'd left on his flesh. To her immense satisfaction, he lost that arrogant smile. "I believed in your innocence when all the evidence damned you as guilty. I believed in you and I fought for you... And I want you to consider the irony of you being ready to act as judge, jury, and executioner based on the word of one spirit..."

  She'd apologize to Kevin later for impugning his testimony. At the moment, her main priority was talking Logan down. If she had to play every IOU in her possession, she would. Even so, touching on events of the prior February was tremendously difficult. Yes, she'd helped the Koenig family, but she'd also made a terrible mistake that cost Logan, one which neither of them had ever forgiven her for. But there was nothing gained by dwelling on past blunders.

  "I'm right and you damn well know it. So I'm forbidding you to go off half-cocked and attack a man who is more than capable of turning you into a wolf skin rug." As soon as she uttered the joke, she wanted to retract it. Her gut churned and all she could think of was that pile of wolf hides she and Sawyer had found.

  "Ahh, geez, Vic. You're fighting dirty." Logan's handsome face pulled into a grimace. His hand rose to rub behind his ear. Oh boy, he looked pissed and chagrined all at once. An impossible combination, but he pulled it off brilliantly.

  Her mouth curved into a slight smile. "I think we've already established that I'll do whatever it takes to win.”

  Logan huffed and puffed his way into a concession. "Okay, fine. But I'm not placing blind faith in that asshole's innocence. We'll investigate, prove he's guilty, and then I'll kill him."

  "Of course we'll investigate." She rolled her eyes, but she had feeling it was the best she would get from him. The important thing was obtaining Logan's agreement to wait. Hopefully, Sawyer could provide an airtight alibi for all three hunters' whereabouts the prior evening.

  "Glad you two got that sorted out. Now can we get back to the investigation and stop dicking around?" Mike asked with no small amount of sarcasm. In unison, Victoria and Logan turned toward the sheriff who stood at the far side of the room, about as far as one could get from them without leaving.

  Kevin had vanished.

  "Logan's tantrum was more than the spirit could handle. Kevin winked out. He may reform once things settle down," Mike volunteered before Victoria could ask.

  "Sorry," Logan mumbled sheepishly, ducking his head.

  "I hope he comes back. I wanted to help him cross over." Victoria spared the dead man's body a pensive glance. She experienced a twinge of guilt that all her initial sympathy had been for Malfoy. It made her feel a bit bigoted.

  "I'm sure you'll get another chance." In his take-charge manner, the sheriff assumed command of the investigation. ''I'm going to take Logan out to the crime scene and see if his werewolf super sniffer can pick up any scent markers. Better to do it before any more time passes. It's a ways north of here so we'll be a few hours."

  "Yeah, that's a good idea," Logan agreed with lukewarm enthusiasm.

  "If there's nothing else I can do, I'd like to get home." She winced, imagining the unavoidable conversation she and Sawyer needed to have. The irony just about killed her, but she figured she could at least count on the hunter to be more reasonable and levelheaded than Logan.

  The sheriff used the sheet to cover the bodies and then led the way out of the morgue at a brisk pace. Preoccupied with her troubled thoughts, Victoria dragged her feet and followed. After a minute or so of walking through the labyrinth like hallways, she became aware of Logan beside her.

  Tilting her head, she stole a sideways glance and found him watching her. From the glittering intensity in his eyes, he had probably been observing her for a while. The judgmental look on his face angered her all over again. She hadn't forgotten what he'd said to her back at the lake house. Hadn't forgiven him either. He'd all but called her a slut, but more offensively, implied she'd been disloyal to the memory of her mate.

  "Tell me one thing," he said. "Are you fucking that Sawyer guy?"

  Victoria blinked. For a split second, she considered slapping him. She wanted to, but a cooler head prevailed for once. Then she backed off and opened her mouth to inform him it was none of his damn business, but the devil inside her led her down a far more tempting path.

  "Nooo..." She grinned and winked. "Not yet."

  Logan growled and his posture tensed. "Do you care about him?"

  "He's a member of my pack." Her shoulders rolled in a shrug.

  He snorted, grinned in derision, and shook his head. "That's not an answer. I'm a member of the pack too, in case you've forgotten."

  "I haven't forgotten, but you're the one who left us, Logan." Victoria waited to give him an opportunity to speak, to explain his inexplicable absence and return. His jaw pulled but he remained stubbornly silent. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled in profound exasperation.

  "I had to," he mumbled, and then sealed his lips.

  "I care about you too, asshole. It's nonexclusive." Gathering herself, Victoria sprinted to catch up with Mike, leaving Logan behind her where he belonged.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Sessrúmnir, Freya's hall in Fólkvangr

  Resignation helped numb the worst of Freya's ill temper, though the wound to her ego would fester for a long time to come. "Your games are tiresome. Why have you pressed me about Victoria? Tell me what you really want."

  Arik regarded her, a cool appraisal. "As I previously stated, I want Victoria and my children kept safe. That means Sawyer Barrett hell and gone from Sierra Pines."

  "I don't understand why you're dragging me into this," Freya said in an aggrieved voice. "I've warned Victoria to be wary of Sawyer many times. Does she listen? No."

  "Which brings us to another point of concern..." He sounded thin with stretched patience nearing its end. "You're losing all influence over Victoria."

  "She's disobedient."

  Arik's smile was a scythe. "Victoria's smart enough to question authority. No, this mess is entirely your fault. You've allowed your ego to compromise your judgment, Freya. Your petty, snotty attitude is driving Victoria straight to Jake Barrett."

  She pinned him with an astute look. "I was right—you're jealous. Except this is about the father and not the son, isn't it?"

  He looked askance of her. "You're a stupid cow, but you're what I have to work with. My concerns are strategic. Odin knows Victoria has the only wea
pon that can free Fenrir. Obviously, he's manipulating her—driving a wedge between you."

  "I've had the same thought myself." Freya forced the admission out though it stung her pride. And she loathed giving Loki anything he could use against her.

  Fortunately, he zoomed right in on the obstacle facing them both. "Right now your priestess refuses to obey you in even simple matters. How do you plan to convince her to cut my Fenrir's bindings, knowing it will bring about Odin's death?"

  "I don't know." The concession was bitter.

  The last time we spoke, you swore she'd obey you because she loved you so much. Do you still believe that?"

  "No," she said in a voice thick with tears. "I don't."

  Sierra Pines, California, on the western shore of Echo Lake

  The rugged peaks of the Sierra Nevada formed irregular juts beneath the orange and the red, an ocean of rock stretching toward the setting sun. Nighttime arrived hours sooner in the mountains than it did in the desert. Phoenix in June—dusk stretched long and thin, the bony fingers of light gouging the sky for hours. At a few minutes past six p.m., Echo Lake already lay beneath a blanket of black velvet and starry twinkle. Victoria had lived in Arizona her entire life before her abrupt arrival in Sierra Pines less than six months ago. Her new home—when she dared to call it such—was still strange and new. She couldn't help comparing and contrasting the two places.

  After the morgue, Victoria returned to the lake house and conducted a quick powwow with her own pack to bring everyone up to speed. Then she spent the next several hours fielding queries from Finn and other werewolf leaders. With Morena's help as her computer advisor, she distributed mass emails containing times, dates, and directions. Speaking sweetly, she offered advice couched as suggestion for the sake of Very Fragile Alpha Male Egos. At one point, she even attempted to translate the incoherent babbling of a Scottish man with a thick brogue... Thankfully, the call had dropped.

  Victoria loitered on the boat dock, a vantage point that granted a clear view of the lake and surrounding forest. She held the cell phone she'd borrowed from Sylvie to her ear.

  Alpha Finn droned on in his deep, rumbling voice. "...I'll distribute the GPS coordinates we've agreed upon to the other packs, with the expectation that we'll gather in Desolation Wilderness on the night of the next full moon."

  "To keep our numbers manageable, each Alpha will be permitted an entourage of two companions—one enforcer and one advisor," Victoria reminded him. No doubt, the sharpness of her tone betrayed her apprehension but she had good cause for concern. Strange wolves, a number on the magnitude of sixty males, would soon enter her territory—every last one a potential challenger and threat to her sovereignty.

  "Agreed. I am bringing my Beta, Tarak, and the priest, Bodaway," Finn replied but the exact meaning of his response was ambiguous, at best. His inflection suggested sardonicism.

  Victoria tilted her head as though the angle might enable her to intuit his thoughts. In the past, Finn had made stilted statements about both Tarak and Bodaway. He never came right out with bold criticism, but his dissatisfaction with both men was impossible to miss. She very badly wanted to ask why he would choose such disreputable companions for such an important meeting. She hesitated, biting her lips until prudence won out. If he wanted her to know, he would tell her.

  "Of course, that's your decision."

  He released a burst of laughter. "Unfortunately, it is. Be grateful for your small, close-knit pack, Victoria Storm. I am a warrior; ill-suited to politics. But I see more infighting within my own tribe than actual battle. The petty rivalries. The backstabbing. Much more and my head will split. By the will of Thor—I will soon be rid of such burdens."

  "Godspeed."

  Silence stretched. Then Finn resumed the recitation of things they'd already gone over and agreed to. Victoria crossed her fingers, hoping he would find satisfaction in the second repetition because she doubted she had the patience necessary to endure a third.

  "A suggestion..." Finn's voice hissed, a sly insinuation.

  Picking up on his tone, Victoria snapped to alertness. "Yes?"

  "I'm aware you have hunters patrolling your territory."

  "What of it?" Suspicion crystalized in her gut. Her wolf bristled and she bared her teeth. What were Finn's sources—was he spying on her pack?

  "Peace, we are allies," he said, easy and soothing in cadence. "Barrett has made it widely known he has hunters stationed in Echo Lake."

  "He has?" Taken off guard, she licked her lips. Conflict and confusion formed a flurry in her thoughts. On the one hand, she was grateful but on the other...

  "Barrett has made a point of acknowledging you as betrothed to his son. When he names you daughter, his eyes are obsidian. His voice crushes stone. His gaze burns through a man's soul..."

  Victoria gulped and her heart palpitated. Never mind. She had no objections.

  "You're quite the poet, Finn, for one of Thor's followers," she quipped for lack of a profound reply.

  "Thank you." Finn snickered and continued boldly. "Since the entire point to this gathering is to negotiate a treaty, another skirmish between wolves and hunters—"

  "Would spell disaster," Victoria concluded. Renewed hostilities would doom a renewal of their alliance, and render their efforts pointless.

  "Precisely."

  "I'll warn the hunters that strangers will be arriving at my express invitation." Victoria wrapped things up and bid Finn goodbye. She shoved the cell phone into her pocket and turned to stare out over the lake.

  Doubt and worry plagued her. The first pack was due to arrive in less than five days, which left her under the gun to put her house in order. She needed to locate and deal with the men who'd left the wolf hides at the Fireside Inn. Presumably, they were the same assholes that had murdered poor Kevin Danbury and skinned Malfoy. Identifying and locating the killers should resolve the accusations the ghost had brought against Sawyer and his crew. Unless—

  Unless Sawyer and his people are the killers. Freya touched Victoria's mind, an unwelcome intrusion, giving voice to her deepest fear.

  Victoria faltered for a second but then found the path to trust. "It wasn't Sawyer. I was with him when we found those wolf skins at the inn. He was as upset as I was. He couldn't have faked his reaction and fooled me."

  Conviction strengthened her declaration. Okay, sure, her initial reaction in the morgue had been born of raw horror but even a few hours to think on it had granted her perspective. Not only was Sawyer not that good of a liar—but she didn't believe him capable of such heinous crimes. He could be a dangerous hothead at times, but he was also decent and kind.

  You are blind to his true nature! Sawyer is a murderer and a liar. Freya thundered her disapproval. A sharp crack split Victoria's eardrum and she winced.

  "It's far more likely that one of our enemies is attempting to sabotage the moot—to prevent wolves from once again allying with the hunters," Victoria argued.

  Enough. Stop making excuses.

  "Goddess, please. Be reasonable."

  No more. And with that, Freya ended their communion.

  Shoulders hunched, Victoria perched on the edge of the dock and stared down into the lake that had taken her mate from her and almost claimed Sawyer. The water's surface was smooth and placid, sucking up the surrounding light. Black water. Once, not too long ago, she harbored no phobias of darkness or deep water but now... Irrational dread. Ever since she'd gotten pregnant, she worried about the myriad things beyond her control. Was it caution or cowardice? She didn't know. Maybe her fear wasn't so unfounded or unreasoning. Either way, tonight she intended to forego the midnight swim she'd been anticipating.

  A draft of chilled air pulled down from the snow-capped peaks gusted across the lake. Shivers coursed through Victoria, but she wasn't cold. Within seconds, tremors shook her body so hard her teeth clattered. She wrapped her arms about herself and strangled on a sob—scared and weak when she couldn't afford to be. People counted on
her to be strong. Alpha to the Storm Pack. Freya’s priestess. Valkyrie. And now, the leader who would unify her fractured people and guide them back to Odin. Far too much responsibility for a twenty-five-year-old woman who was recently widowed and pregnant. She struggled to come to terms with how her body was changing from day-to-day. Soon, her life would change forever and she could barely comprehend the magnitude of it. A child was the most profound responsibility she could conceive of, and she had to adapt to handle all that and more. Whatever the future held…

  The burden crushed Victoria.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Sessrúmnir, Freya's hall in Fólkvangr

  Arik considered Freya, his surprise evident in the part of his lips. "I didn't expect you to it admit it so easily."

  Freya closed her eyes, fighting tears. Easy? There was nothing easy about it. Victoria's treason had broken her heart. But, as Loki had pointed out, she and he were in a partnership for survival. So for her own good, she acknowledged the truth of her priestess's betrayal.

  "What would you suggest I do?" Freya asked, though she loathed seeking advice from the worm. Obviously, the Trickster had something in mind or he wouldn't have revealed his true identity. And while she despised both him and his methods, there was no denying that his plans worked.

  "Test Victoria," he dictated in an even tone. "Present her with the truth and then push her to choose between you and Odin. Should she side with you, then all is well."

  "And if she doesn't?" The question tasted sour enough to turn her stomach.

  Her self-proclaimed Philadelphia Lawyer spread his hands. "If she fails, then take away Vanadium and cut her off. You don't need a priestess who can't and won't obey you."

  Sierra Pines, California, on the western shore of Echo Lake

  In the stillness of the night, sound carried. The rumble of the car's engine reached the boat dock even though it was located more than a quarter mile from the two-lane road. The house and its heated in-ground swimming pool were positioned on a rise overlooking the lake. The property was miles from their nearest neighbor and the northernmost settlement before the stretch of federally protected land that composed Desolation Wilderness. The entire territory, all the way south to U.S. Route 50, belonged to her pack.