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First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series)

Page 13

by Dani Harper


  “It would have all been fine, except we weren’t supposed to be wolves. Everyone in the pack was on high alert because it was hunting season. Everyone was supposed to stay on two legs, but when you’re young, you think you’re going to live forever. We thought we were so damn clever that nothing would happen to us. We could outsmart any stupid human hunters.”

  “What happened?” Neva asked, her voice soft and quiet.

  “We ran straight into a party of hunters. Three were in the trees, just waiting for deer to walk under them. We didn’t even know they were there until the deer went down. We didn’t even hear the report of the rifle until the damn buck just dropped right in front of us. And then Jackson—Christ, my little brother, Jackson—he was taken down, too. One shot, one stupid fucking shot.” Travis’s voice shook, but he kept on going. “I felt it before I saw what happened, as if the bullet had gone through my own heart. I was behind a ways because I was going to let him catch the damn deer—you know, so he’d feel good about himself. Two hunters were already moving in to claim the trophies when I came out of the brush.”

  “You must have been wild.”

  “I lost it. I don’t even know where my human side went, but my wolf took over. There were three hunters in the trees, two on the ground, and four back at their camp, and I killed every last one of them. Tore them to pieces—young, old, it didn’t matter to me. I don’t remember doing it, but I did it. I came to myself in the middle of the mess, after they were all dead.” The tinny taste of blood had been on his tongue, dripping from his jaws and staining the golden tawny fur of his chest, but there was no point in relating such gory details.

  “The bottom line is, I’m a murderer, Neva. I broke the highest and most absolute law that Changelings have.” He paused for a long moment. “I buried my little brother far away from that place, and then I left. I never went back to the pack or to my family. I’ve never seen them since, any of them, and that was a long time ago.”

  “You banished yourself?”

  “Yeah, I guess I did.” He sighed. He hadn’t known what else to do. He couldn’t change what had happened, couldn’t make it right or make up for it, no matter what. The fact that his inner wolf was responsible for the deed hardly mattered. Lives, once taken, could never be restored. He wished Neva would turn around now, and yet he dreaded it—surely there would be disgust and revulsion, the same things he felt toward himself and his wolf. There might even be fear on her beautiful face. It would devastate him, but it was no less than he deserved. He squared his shoulders and waited for her reaction. For his sentence.

  Neva said nothing, and then he saw her shoulders shaking. Christ, not tears, please, anything but tears. “Neva, honey, don’t,” he said gently and reached out to her, stroking her hair and running the long, dark waves through his big fingers.

  Abruptly, the hair in his hand became bright gold. “What the hell?” He dropped the suddenly blonde tress as if it were a rattlesnake. Neva turned around then, allowing the icy laughter she’d been suppressing to peal through the bower. Her exquisite face was oh so familiar and yet completely alien to him, and his blood chilled with realization.

  It wasn’t Neva.

  Baker hugged the ground beneath a nearly impenetrable thicket of hawthorn and prayed that he wouldn’t be detected. His muzzle and ears were badly cut by the long thorns that adorned the branches, but this inhospitable hiding place was his best and only hope. If any of Meredith’s wolves realized he was there, they’d damn well have to come in here after him.

  So far they were too busy watching the fun to notice that there was another player on the field. A battle royal raged between the golden wolf he’d been following and the fucking bitch queen herself. Gold and silver fur flew as they spilled out of the shelter of evergreens, biting and clawing, each vying for a throathold. Silently he cheered on the big male, even as he knew it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Sooner or later, just as with Riley, Meredith would pull some of her damned magic out of her ass and gain the upper hand.

  This time, however, she simply called in her minions. A dozen powerful werewolves took over what she started, and bore the golden wolf to the ground under their sheer weight alone. It was like watching linebackers dog-piling on a quarterback, but there was no referee to drag them off. Meredith sat back and licked her wounds, and Baker was glad to see that the tawny wolf had managed to do some damage before he went down. Still in lupine form, the bitch somehow managed a bored expression, as if the outcome of the struggle meant nothing to her. Baker wasn’t buying it. She was a long way from home, and she’d brought twelve goons with her. Not only that, but she hadn’t killed the guy with some scary-ass magic when he’d made her bleed. So whoever this big gold wolf was, he must be important.

  Baker shook his head as his earlier prediction came true. The bitch queen lifted a paw, and a thick coil of slender scarlet cord simply appeared at her feet. He squinted to make out details. The cord was thicker than string and thinner than rope—and there was a strange sheen to it. Meredith bent her silver muzzle and daintily picked up the coil in her teeth. With a jerk of her head, she tossed it straight into the midst of the snarling pack.

  Although Baker knew the struggle had been futile, he still felt a twinge of disappointment when the thugs stepped away to reveal the tawny wolf lying on the ground. Red blood stained his golden pelt, revealing slashes and bites in countless places, but it wasn’t the wounds that kept him down. The strange red cord bound and muzzled the big werewolf. Shit. Not only had Baker wished the guy well, he’d hoped for some information from him. And he wouldn’t mind shaking hands with him either (if either of them had hands). Golden Boy had held his own against impossible odds. Despite their size and muscle, several of his opponents were lame and bleeding far more profusely than he was.

  Suddenly a voice reverberated in his head. It was anguished and desperate, yet potent enough that Baker winced and his brain recoiled at its strength. Unconsciously, he put a paw over his head.

  Neva! Stay away from here—

  The words were cut short, and the tawny wolf exhaled as if for the last time.

  FIFTEEN

  Neva wandered through the truck stop, wondering if she should take a chance on the busy diner that took up one side of the building, or if she should just grab some prepackaged snacks and get back on the road. The driver who’d given her a lift had been kind, but talkative. Way more than talkative. More like evangelistic. He’d called himself a “prepper” and advocated learning survival skills for the coming apocalypse. By the time they’d crossed two state lines, she knew more than she’d ever wanted to know about which bugs were edible, how to filter urine for water, and what everyday items could be turned into weapons.

  In the end, she’d lied about her destination and bailed when he stopped for gas. Part of her—okay, a big part—wanted to wait around in hopes of Travis showing up. The more sensible side of her said that was a dumb idea and she ought to keep moving.

  Her wolf had a whole different take on the subject. Neva could swear it was pacing inside her, more like a caged tiger than a wolf, and had been ever since she’d left Travis behind. It didn’t like being away from him one bit. She supposed he was the only werewolf that her alter ego had met so far—and since he’d been there when her inner wolf was, well, born, so to speak, maybe it had imprinted on him. She didn’t know.

  Mate. Ours.

  Neva stopped dead in the middle of reading a package of granola bars. No, she said to her wolf. We had sex. That doesn’t mean we’re automatically mates. She sensed confusion from her animal persona—and from herself as well. She’d never indulged in gratuitous sex before. It wasn’t really in her nature, so why was she trying to pretend that’s all it was? Of course, a lot of things had happened in that forest bower that she hadn’t thought were in her nature. She’d felt incredibly wild and free, and yet deeply intimate. She’d chalked it up to being a new werewolf. Now she wondered: Had she really hitchhiked out of there to flee Meredith, or to
run away from Travis? And to avoid what sex with him might mean for their relationship?

  Oh no. She’d used the R word. Not out loud, but she’d thought it, dammit. She didn’t have a relationship with Travis, did she? Wasn’t she just a pain in his ass until he was satisfied she’d been properly introduced to the Changeling world? Hadn’t it been his plan all along to leave her after that? Plans could change, though. So could hearts. She’d told herself repeatedly that her feelings for Travis were perfectly normal, red-blooded attraction to a big, strong, good-looking man. Emphasis on normal.

  Now, however…if it wasn’t love, it was suspiciously close to it. And Neva didn’t know if that was good or bad or both. Pairing up with a werewolf had certainly never been in her plans. Of course, neither had becoming a werewolf herself. So if she really did have feelings for the guy, what was she doing alone in a truck stop, miles down the road?

  The pain in her head erupted so violently that at first she thought she was having a stroke. It took her to her knees, gasping for air and holding her skull with both hands in case it blew apart. Travis’s voice echoed loudly in every cell of her body—

  And then it was gone. Just gone.

  Shaking, sweating, she allowed herself to be helped to her feet by a purple-uniformed waitress and a trucker with a long, braided beard. “I’m okay,” Neva said, although she wasn’t convinced of it herself. “Just a sudden migraine—makes me lose my balance sometimes. It’s already fading.”

  “You better sit down for a bit, hon.” The waitress guided her to a booth and held her arm until she was settled in. “My cousin Ethan gets those, says they’re a real bugger. Now can I bring you something, or do you want to lie down for a while? I got my RV out back if you need some peace and quiet. It ain’t tidy, but it’s clean.”

  “Thanks, that’s really kind of you. I just need a glass of milk, and maybe some aspirin. I’ll be okay if I just sit still.” At least Neva sincerely hoped that was the case. At least the pain was gone—except for a residual ache as if she’d been banging her head on the nearest wall. “I guess I probably should eat, too.” She thanked all her stars that she had a well-washed twenty in her pocket, courtesy of her jeans’ previous owner.

  The waitress smiled and left her a menu. Neva could hardly read it. Not because there was anything wrong with her eyes, but because it was pretty damn distracting to get a full-volume warning from somebody inside your brain. Stay away from here. Away from where? Tough to tell when she didn’t know where the hell the guy was. She didn’t know which bothered her more: the way he was able to connect with her so suddenly or the fact that his voice cut off so abruptly. Was he in trouble? What should she do now?

  The waitress zoomed by and left a tall glass of milk and a small blister package of aspirin. “It’s off the shelf in the store. Just pay Raymond at the till before you leave, hon,” she called over her shoulder as she filled coffee cups at another table.

  When the woman returned, Neva ordered the double bacon cheeseburger special with fries and onion rings, plus a milkshake. The waitress’s eyebrows rose, but she didn’t say a word as she wrote up the order and headed for the kitchen.

  Stay away from here. Travis’s words had been clear but not the meaning. Where the hell was here? Was it wherever he had disappeared to in such a hurry? Or was it the last place he’d seen Neva? Jeez, what if Meredith’s gang had tracked them to their little love nest in the pines? That idea repelled Neva on several levels—it seemed like a violation to have their enemies trampling on the grass where she and Travis had come together so powerfully. A soft clenching at her core let her know that her body hadn’t forgotten a single detail of that encounter.

  The waitress brought her order just as Neva sighed heavily, and mistook the sound for approval.

  “Looks good, don’t it, hon? My husband, Carl, he’s the cook, and he does a fine job, if I do say so. Lots of truckers come here just for his burgers. But if you have room afterward, you have simply got to try his rhubarb pie.”

  “Thanks,” Neva said as the waitress breezed off to another table. She picked up the monstrous burger with both hands. She didn’t know if there’d be any room for the pie afterward, but she was definitely going to devour every last grease-soaked calorie of the food before her. Not because she was starving (although she was) and not because she didn’t know where her next meal was coming from (she didn’t). She was going to eat this so her inner wolf was fully fueled, and then she was going to go looking for Travis.

  Naked, Meredith inspected her image in the full-length mirror and noted with satisfaction that her skin was once again perfect in every way. The wounds she’d received from the golden wolf had vanished into nothingness as soon as she’d resumed her shapely human form. She drew a finger around one breast idly as she considered her newest prize, currently locked in a basement cell. The big werewolf’s color wasn’t the only unique thing about him. He was a true shape-shifter, born to a dual existence. Nearly every creature in her pack had been human until she made them otherwise. Those few she hadn’t Changed herself, the werewolves she’d recruited here and there, had been transformed by someone else.

  Just as she had been.

  Meredith had traveled the country, studying magic in New England, New Orleans, and the American Southwest, experimenting and blending, until she’d developed a discipline that was uniquely hers. That was when she’d decided it was long past time to visit Europe in hopes of adding something new to her already formidable skills. But new didn’t begin to describe what an attraction spell brought within her reach. Andrei de la Ronde was thin, white-haired, and quiet, easily mistaken for an aged librarian rather than the wealthy and powerful man he was. But that wasn’t all that swam beneath the surface. If it wasn’t for the psychic discernment she’d cultivated since childhood, she might have missed the shining blue aura that marked him as an honest-to-god werewolf.

  Andrei hadn’t known a thing about Meredith’s talents and abilities, of course. Only that a striking blonde American appeared on his arm at a party and dazzled him with a whispered invitation. She’d learned a lot that first night in his arms. One: werewolves had incredible stamina—even if their human side appeared long in the fang. Sex created energy, and energy powered enchantments. This was a union that could fuel far greater spells than she had been able to accomplish with mere human males.

  Two: Andrei was wealthier than most small countries, and he moved in powerful circles. There was very little knowledge and very few places he could not help her to access. And three: he was single, his wife having died some years back. There were no children, no exes, no relatives, nobody with whom she’d have to share all that money and power once she got her hands on it.

  As always, Meredith carefully weighed effort against reward. She had no love for him, of course, but Andrei was remarkably easy to tolerate because he made few demands. It took very little to keep him happy, and he was a busy man, so she’d have ample time to pursue her one true love, which was magic. So really, the decision was a no-brainer. Once made, it was a simple matter to convince him that he wanted to marry her. She thought about weaving a potent little truth spell to make him reveal his lupine nature to her, but it proved unnecessary. He volunteered the information on his own—and, right on cue, she announced that she loved him anyway. The results were classic. Just like the old beauty and the beast story…

  They wed according to her plan, traveled around the world according to her whim, and took up their main residence in Monaco, according to her taste. She thought she had it all. And then he told her the rest of the story. There was a way for beauty to become a beast as well! Shape-shifting spells were the most difficult to master in any magic culture—and to be able to change form at a moment’s notice was beyond anything she’d ever read about in the most ancient of grimoires. And there was one more incredible perk: werewolves were extremely long-lived. While Andrei appeared to be in his seventies, in reality, he had already surpassed the life spans of several humans combine
d. With virtual immortality, what levels of power and spell craft might Meredith be able to reach?

  Her generous new husband handed it all to her by simply biting her little finger. Dear Andrei—he actually shed a tear when he did it, fearing he might hurt his fair-haired girl, as he called her. Really, it was rather a shame that he was killed by a wild animal less than a year later…

  Meredith sighed and turned her attention to her newest toy. The golden wolf was the first natural werewolf she’d met since Andrei—and a much more impressive specimen than her husband had been. Curious, she wanted to see the massive creature’s human side. She’d tried to order the animal out of the way, like a lion tamer driving a wild beast back. Her magic was stronger than any whip and chair, yet the tawny animal did not budge. Instead, she could feel the great wolf calmly testing her, studying her. She was accustomed to instilling fear in others, but this creature regarded her with calculation instead of terror. And for the briefest of moments she’d felt a tiny thrill of fear herself—

  She, Meredith de la Ronde, who feared no one.

  To her surprise, it was exciting. She watched in the mirror as her nipples became erect, just from the memory of that brief flicker of fright. Her fingers brushed over them ever so lightly, and with lightning quickness, the delicate nerve endings fired the sensations through her entire body. Moisture appeared between her legs at once, and she scented the warm tang of her own arousal.

  Interesting.

  The wolfen persona had not fled, but departed from her view as casually as if it had turned its back on her and sauntered away. The message was very clear: not only did the animal have no fear of her, it was wholly confident that she would not harm the human that the wolf was leaving in its place. In its vivid eyes had been the promise of sudden and immediate retribution. Meredith chose to be amused by its threat. She would teach the foolish creature some respect—and fear—later.

 

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