by Silver James
DHS? What the fuck? I continued the stare down.
“What happened last night?”
“Don’t see how Homeland has any interest in a fight in a strip joint.”
“Homeland has interests in a lot of different things.”
I could see he was thinking things over, debating where to take the conversation next. I didn’t move, waiting patiently. I was a Wolf. He might be a Wolf, too, but he was the interloper in my territory. I was the predator. He was prey.
“Look at it this way, the enemy of your enemy could just be your friend.”
Snorting, I uncrossed my arms and hooked my thumbs in my belt. “Yeah? And who would be the enemy and who would be the friend?”
“Hell Dogs and me.”
Okay, he had my attention now. I wouldn’t walk across the street to piss on a Hell Dog if he was on fire and felt that way before they’d kidnapped two Nightrider old ladies. We’d already had a feud goin’ before Wolf DNA and some dark government crap got tossed into the mix and made things worse. A few months prior to the kidnappings, a former Army SpecOps guy dropped by. Mac McIntire’s old man had been the Nightriders’ national prez before the Russian took him out during a Blood Moon, claiming the MC. Even now, Brick McIntire’s hide was nailed to the clubhouse wall.
We’d figured the former soldier had been there to demand retribution. Turned out, there was no blood lost between him and his old man. He’d stopped by to warn us—and wanted Russki to put the word out to all the chapters. Black Root. That’s the name of the shady corporation working with the government—and the Hell Dogs were workin’ for them. They’d kidnapped kids. Killed our kind. And now a government agent was standing here telling me he was interested in the Dogs.
I was about to dig deeper when the fed stiffened and stepped away so he could keep an eye on me and the corridor at the same time. I felt the power about half a second after he moved. The Russian. I was used to the air going all still like before a storm. Happened every time Russki got pissed off. Like he was now.
Russki stalked down the hallway, waves of energy sparking around him. Other people immediately moved out of his way. He stopped in front of us and I’ll give the fed this, he didn’t back away while the boss gave him the one over.
Without taking his eyes off Alexander, the Russian acknowledged me. “Hollywood.”
“Russki.”
“Who is your friend?”
“Funny you should ask, boss. We were just discussing strange friendships.” The Russian arched a brow and damn if he didn’t look like a tsar or something. I could see the effect on the fed, but I hid my grin as I made introductions. “Derek Alexander. Department of Homeland Security.”
“And you would be Sergei Rusakovavich, national president of the Nightriders,” the fed said.
I faded back, still blocking the door to Lainey’s room but keeping an ear open for any noise from inside. I had no part of this conversation, except to back up Russki.
“Why are you here?” The boss didn’t beat around the bush.
The fed didn’t pussyfoot either. “Your girl was attacked by the Hell Dogs.”
“Was she?”
“I want to know why.”
“I wish to know this information as well. What interest do you have in the Hell Dogs?”
Alexander glanced up and down the hallway, his lips pursed as he considered the question. I could almost see the wheels turning in his head. He knew shit. The question was, how much shit would he share? And how much shit would we catch for knowing?
“Let’s just say they’ve been on my radar for awhile. They’re in bed with some people that—”
Someone screamed. Lainey! I was at her bedside a blink later, scooping her into my arms. I had my hands full soothing her, but I noticed Russki standing in the doorway blocking the fed from entering. Good. My wolf was already going nuts. He’d go rabid if a strange Wolf got close to my mate.
Wait. What the fuck? My wolf nosed me, assuring me of the fact that Lainey belonged to us.
“Moonstruck?”
“So it appears.”
Alexander’s and the Russian’s voices washed over me as I stroked Lainey’s hair back from her face. I didn’t pay them much attention.
“Shhh, baby. I’m here. You aren’t alone. You’ll be all right.”
“Promise?” Her shaky voice was muffled against my chest.
“Promise.”
“Okay.” She tilted her head back just enough to look at me. “Just one thing.”
“Yeah, darlin’.”
“Who are you?”
Chapter 10
Lainey
“I’M HOLLYWOOD.”
I went to wipe the crud stuck to my eyelashes and realized I couldn’t really move my right arm. My brain whirled like that little rainbow icon on a computer screen, spinning and spinning and spinning. I glanced around. Hospital. Broken arm. A man. A fight. Lug Nut. Private dance. Chasin’ Tail. Details fell into place.
My heart rate kicked up and the machine beside my bed beeped ominously. Then the pain washed over me again. My vision blacked out and white prickles danced across the darkness.
“Lainey?” That voice sounded far away. Who was calling me?
“Babe?” Oh. Yeah. Hollywood.
Warm hands eased me back against the pillow. More voices echoed from the shadows.
“What is wrong with her?”
“I don’t know, Russki!”
“What did you do to her?”
“Back off, asshole.”
“Give me room. I’ve notified the on-call resident. I need to check her vitals.” A woman’s voice, no-nonsense and calm. “Everybody out.”
“Fuck that shit. I’m stayin’.”
“Are you family?”
“Damn straight I am.” Hollywood again. Wait. He wasn’t family. Where was my mom? Oh no! Who was looking after my little brothers? I clawed my way through the agonizing pain, found a speck of light and homed in on it.
“Easy, Lainey. Breathe, baby. Just breathe. I’ve got you.”
Something burned in my arm, shooting into my bloodstream.
“I’ve given her a sedative.” A different male voice. “The surgeon said she could have a morphine drip if she needs one. I’ll order it.”
“No.” Hollywood again. I wanted him to shut up. Morphine sounded really, really good at the moment.
I opened my eyes and focused on his face. Whatever drug they’d given me through the IV made me feel all floaty and a little bit drunk. At least the pain was easing back. I swallowed down the last of the bile, managed a deep breath.
“You’re pretty.”
A quick grin. “Yeah, I am.”
Oh, Hollywood was a devil. I’d have to be very careful…wait. I’d said that out loud? Well…shoot.
“Shhh, Lainey. Go back to sleep, darlin’. I’m here. Not goin’ anywhere. You’re safe.”
Safe. Now that was a concept that had eluded me lately. I hadn’t felt safe in a long, long time. Except here, in a hospital—a place I loathed—a man who was a complete stranger but who didn’t feel like a stranger sitting next to me, and throbbing agony beyond anything my father had ever heaped on me, I did. Feel safe.
I’d seen Hollywood somewhere before and I felt like I should know more about him. I tried to keep my eyes open so I could think but they wouldn’t cooperate. Warm lips on my forehead. Scruffy shadow beard scraping my temple. Strong fingers holding mine gently, a thumb rubbing across the back of my hand. I breathed deeply and smiled. He smelled of baking bread and mesquite smoke. Weird. I’d sort it out later. Yes. Later…
Hollywood
I WATCHED LAINEY settle into sleep. Her face remained pale and drawn. Pain fuckin’ radiated off her. I’d absorb all of it if I could. It was killin’ me to watch her like this.
“A morphine pump is a perfectly acceptable pain management tool.”
That prick of a doctor studied the chart in his hands. No. He was only a resident. Young. Cocky. Fuck him.
“No morphine. No oxy.”
“I don’t believe you have the right to make those decisions.”
“I believe you’d be wrong. There’s a history of addiction in her family.” Gravedigger had done some digging and texted me. Her brother was a meth head and her mother spent most of her time gambling. No father in the picture, only twin brothers who were younger. She looked after them.
After Hoss’s call, Digger tracked down Lainey’s mother. Nobody was home. Sunday fucking morning and the old bitch was at a casino. Digger had to drag the woman off the floor, her complaining the whole time. Digger told her to get her ass home to look after her own kids. When she told him the boys were in her car out in the parking lot, he’d lost his shit.
Dig called for backup. Lainey’s little brothers were currently staying with Sam and Easy. Their adopted son, Jonah, was about the same age so that was good. Less for Lainey to worry about when she woke up again.
The doctor tsked at me. I crossed my arms over my chest. The pussy’s face drained of color. “Fine. But she doesn’t have to be in pain.” He scribbled on the chart, dropped it into the rack on the foot of her bed, and left. Good riddance.
I sat down in the chair I’d pulled up next to the bed and took her uninjured hand in mine. She stirred slightly, mumbling something. After a sigh, she sank deeper into sleep.
A light tap on the door, followed by it swinging open, brought me halfway to my feet. If that damn doctor was back… Wizard stuck his head in and I relaxed.
“I’ll sit with her,” he whispered. “The Russian and Easy need to talk to you.”
“Where?”
Wiz jerked his head toward the window. “They’re outside. Go on down. Get some food, fresh air. She’s safe with me.”
My wolf didn’t like the idea. Wiz indicated a chair in the far corner. “I’ll sit over there. Won’t touch her.”
Okay, that was just weird. Wiz tended to adopt some of the dancers—in a brother-protector kind of way but to tell me he’d stay hands off? I gave him a look and he laughed.
“Clueless sonavabitch.”
I snarled at that.
“Your reactions to her? Remind you of anyone?”
Scowling, I stared at him, glanced to Lainey’s sleeping face then back to him.
“Easy? When he first met Sam?” Wiz hinted.
What the fuck? That was bullshit. My wolf got all smug. Mine. No, she wasn’t. Ours, the damn critter insisted. Holy fuck. “I am not fuckin’ moonstruck.”
Wizard laughed in my face and clapped his hand over his mouth to smother the sound. “You so fuckin’ are, brother. Now get your ass downstairs before the Russian comes hunting for both our hides.”
He had a point. My wolf still didn’t like the idea of leaving Lainey, but Wiz snagged me around the neck with his arm. “She’s yours, bro. I’ll protect her.”
His words settled both my wolf and me, enough so we could leave Lainey alone with another man—another Wolf. I still dragged my feet and it took every bit of my will to shut the door behind me. I could trust Wiz. He was a Nightrider brother.
I found the Russian, Easy, and Hoss in the parking lot, leaning against their Harleys. I didn’t like the looks on their faces. Not one damn bit.
“Deadhead called,” Easy said. “That motel clerk?”
I tilted my head, waiting for him to continue.
“She’s dead.”
Chapter 11
Hollywood
THE RUSSIAN’S EYES FLARED. “She was murdered.” The words hung frozen in the air.
“The Hell Dog who got away?” The question was a shot in the dark but it was the first thought I had. We hadn’t been able to track him so maybe he’d just gone to ground in Topeka.
“Don’t know. Digger’s tryin’ to find out.” Easy glanced at the Russian. “When Deadhead got word, he went down to the scene but he couldn’t get much info.”
We’d given the clerk protection and she’d been killed. We couldn’t prove it was Hell Dogs but it didn’t take much of a leap to point the finger. I was bone-deep angry. I’d done the background check on her. She’d been a nice girl. Working to pay her way through community college.
“What happened?”
Easy rubbed the back of his neck, staring down at his boots. “Parking lot on campus. She was snatched after a late class. Security located her car the next morning when she didn’t show up for work. Bastards dumped her a block from the cop shop about an hour after her car was found.”
“Wizard hacked into the ME’s database.” Hoss continued the story. “At least they just executed her. Double tap to the head. No rape. That’s not much, but it’s something.”
“Yeah.” Two things Nightriders didn’t do—hurt kids or rape. Everybody else? No boundaries.
“There’s something else.” Now Hoss was staring at his boots.
“What?”
“Lainey.”
“What about her?”
“She doesn’t do privates, Hollywood. Not until last night.”
Well, fuck. Suspicion was plastered all over their faces. “I’ll talk to her.”
“When?”
Easy asked the question, but it was the Russian staring past me back toward the hospital that captured my attention. I glanced around. Cops. Two of them in uniform and one in a suit. Fuck. Officer Gerald and his sidekick, along with the fed. Russki was stride-for-stride with me as we headed inside.
By the time we got to Lainey’s room, Wiz was in handcuffs. Gerald was all puffed up with ego, the fed looked pissed, and the other uniform just stood off to one side, his hand on the butt of his pistol, glaring at anyone who looked in his direction.
“You got a warrant?” I tried to sound cool instead of pissed. Didn’t exactly work.
Gerald whirled around. “You!”
“You wanna take those cuffs off my boy there, slick?”
“I got another pair here with your name on ’em, slick.” Gerald got right up in my face. “We’re taking the bitch into protective custody.”
The fed stepped between us, a good thing for the cop. I was ready to rip his throat out.
The Russian smiled. I backed out of the way. I knew that smile. It usually meant someone was going to die.
“There is no reason for anyone in law enforcement to take the girl.”
“There is. It’s necessary for her safety.” The fed was dumber than I’d given him credit for.
Lainey
COMING AWAKE FROM a drug-induced sleep, I heard voices out in the hallway. All male. I strained to hear what they were saying after I identified Hollywood’s voice and that of the Russian’s. That man still scared me spitless. The other guys I didn’t recognize.
“Necessary for safety.” A stranger’s voice.
Safety? Whose? I almost squeaked in my fear.
“She belongs to the Nightriders. We take care of Lainey just as we will deal with this situation.” The Russian.
Well that answered my question. Me. My safety. I pulled the covers up to my chin as if I could hide from everything going on in my batshit crazy life.
“You don’t understand.” The stranger again. “The investigation—”
“You don’t understand.” Hollywood’s voice was barely discernible beneath his growl.
I heard a body hit something solid—like a wall—then snarls and growls.
“We have no fight with Homeland Security.” The Russian, sounding…reasonable. “Hollywood has claimed her. Do what you must, but be aware that we take care of our own. Do your investigation. Arrest the ones who did this, but be warned. If you wish to take them to trial, arrest them before we find them.”
“Dammit. I’ve spent years tracking these assholes.” The stranger who was with Homeland Security. “Your girl isn’t the only one they’ve hurt.”
I heard more snarls and another thud.
“Enough, Hollywood. Go inside.” That was the Russian’s do-it-or-die voice. I’d heard it the night I got hurt.
A moment later, th
e door slammed open, bouncing off the wall, and Hollywood stalked in. I just thought I’d been scared before. He looked like a big, bad wolf straight out of Red Riding Hood’s nightmares. He took one look at me and his face morphed into a stricken expression before the anger surged back. He shut the door, faced me.
“Don’t fucking cry. If you cry, I’ll rip out his throat.”
None of this made sense. My life was so completely out of control and now I was caught between an outlaw motorcycle gang and freaking Homeland Security. One tear slid down my cheek. I couldn’t help it.
“Ah, babe,” he groaned. Then I was in his arms and everything was okay. Which was totally insane.
Russki
ALEXANDER MOTIONED FOR the officer Hollywood called Gerald to remove the handcuffs from Wizard. There was history there—between the cop and Wood. My curiosity would be satisfied another time. Wiz hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and leaned against the wall, booted feet crossed at the ankles—a still-life sketch titled Indolent Thug. The agent remained a buffer between us and the police.
“If Miss Walker is awake, I need to question her.” His eyes met mine, but he lowered his gaze for a moment. Good. He understood who held the power.
“Screw this.” Gerald surged past Alexander. “I’m taking the bitch.”
The cop did not reach the door. The fed put a hand on the idiot’s shoulder. Gerald squirmed, wincing when the DHS agent squeezed, but he stood silent. It would have made no difference if Alexander had refrained from intervening. Wizard blocked the door. I glanced at the second officer—the one who had remained silent and aloof during this confrontation. He watched intently, had seen how fast both Wizard and the fed had moved. This cop wasn’t surprised. Interesting.
Once upon a time only a very few select humans knew about our kind. Most considered Wolves to be the stuff of myth, or fiction. Unlike the way we are portrayed in the cinema or literature, we are not werewolves. We are Lupi versi pellis. Wolf shifters. Our bite will not turn a human. The ability to connect to our wolves and change into their shape is coded in our DNA.
