The Lone Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  Sylvan rumbled, irritation rippling over her skin. “I have no use for an ally who can’t stand up in a fight.”

  “I could fight in full sunlight as well as any wolf.”

  Sylvan snorted. “You wouldn’t last a round, in or out of the light.”

  “Someday, perhaps we’ll test that.”

  “Perhaps, when I’m in need of amusement.”

  Jody laughed. “You would make an interesting pet.”

  Sylvan’s concern eased. Jody was fine. “Lara trespassed on Pack territory tonight.”

  “Does she need permission to enter?”

  “She knows the law.” Sylvan growled, her wolf still unappeased. “When she chose to be your warlord, she made herself a lone wolf.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning she forfeited the right to come and go unannounced.”

  “Even considering who she is?”

  “Especially because of who she is.” Sylvan clenched her jaws. “As my centuri, she was dominant over most of my Pack. They would follow her orders without question. Her status has changed, and the Pack needs to see what that means. Without laws, we have chaos.”

  Jody smiled thinly. “And what is it you think we have now?”

  “Now more than ever, we need to preserve order. Our laws have served us well for centuries. The Praetern species have survived in peaceful coexistence by respecting boundaries—and enforcing them when violated.”

  “There have always been territorial disputes,” Jody pointed out, “both inter- and intra-species. I can think of half a dozen Vampires who would be happy to see me turn to ashes.”

  “Not surprising,” Sylvan muttered, and again, Jody smiled. “We’re predators—we’ll always have to fight to hold our rule. And as long as more than one predator species survives, we will always challenge each other for dominance.”

  “Not necessarily,” Jody said. “At one time, Vampires ruled the Weres, and everyone had enough prey. A very workable situation.”

  Sylvan laughed. “The Weres will never be the slaves of the Vampires again. Those times have passed—we might offer you our blood, but not our servitude. Besides, now humans are voluntarily prey for the Vampires—do you plan for them to become your slaves?”

  Jody gazed out the window, the night fires reflecting red in her eyes. “You ask questions no Vampire would answer.”

  “And yet we are more alike than not,” Sylvan said quietly. “Sometimes I think all that lies ahead for us is destruction. Our path may not be one we can change.”

  “But you will try.”

  “I will do whatever I must to protect my wolves.”

  Jody nodded. “As will I, for my Clan.”

  “We are no threat to the Vampires,” Sylvan said. “We do not hunt your prey.”

  “No, but the time may come when our prey becomes your ally, and we become the hunted.”

  Sylvan turned from the night. Across the room, Jody’s mate, Becca, sat in front of the fire, facing them. A circle of Vampire soldiers flanked her on the left, warily watching Sylvan’s guards. Two groups of lethal predators, and all that might stand between the Praeterns and those who would destroy them. “You have my word, the Weres will never hunt the Vampires except in retaliation for an attack.”

  “You do not speak for all the Weres.”

  Sylvan thought of Raina and the cats who lived in near anarchy in the neighboring mountains, of the smaller enclaves of coyotes who roamed in the north, and the scattered others who lived in even deeper hiding. Alone, leaderless, they would be easy prey. United, they would be protected. “I plan to change that.”

  “I believe you might,” Jody said quietly. “But that assumes, my friend Sylvan, that you survive long enough.”

  “And as long as I do, I will count you my ally.”

  Jody let out a long breath. “If I must have an ally, I can think of none better.”

  Sylvan laughed softly. “A compliment from the Liege. I’m honored.”

  “Why did you want me here tonight?”

  “Lara is a Vampire, isn’t she?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why was she on Pack land well before sundown?”

  “Lara is Vampire, but she is also a dominant wolf, and she was turned in an unusual way.” Jody shook her head, hesitated. In a rare show of emotion, she frowned impatiently. “These are not things usually discussed with outsiders.”

  “These are not usual times.”

  “No. They’re not.” Jody looked over her shoulder to where Becca waited, still protected by a cadre of guards. Then she turned back to Sylvan. “I never expected to have a consort. Or a Dominion to guard. Or an ally I counted as a friend.”

  “Be careful, Vampire,” Sylvan said softly. “You’ll spoil me.”

  Jody grinned, her incisors flashing. “I was hoping for a taste.”

  Sylvan snarled and Jody’s grin widened. “What about Lara? I’ll keep your counsel.”

  “I know.” Jody grew serious. “Ordinarily, turning is a deliberate and controlled process. The Vampire RNA is carried in the blood and hormones and injected into the host slowly, allowing the mutation to take hold in the marrow and ultimately replace the host stem cells with Vampiric progenitors. The host benefits from longevity to the point of virtual immortality. The downside, of course, is the defect in the blood cell itself, requiring the infusion of oxygen carriers through feeding.”

  “Is anyone compatible with the process?”

  Jody sighed.

  “I give you my word the information remains with me and my mate,” Sylvan said.

  “No. In some hosts there’s a rapid immunological response that destroys the introduction of the Vampire RNA, preventing the mutation from establishing itself. In essence, those hosts are resistant to turning.” Jody stared out the window. “In many cases, the host is so depleted of their own natural cells that they die.”

  “Is there any way to tell beforehand?”

  “Not that we’ve been able to discover. That’s why we agree to turn so few hosts, even those who petition for it.” Jody sighed. “Until now, before human blood hosts were so plentiful, we also resisted turning for practical reasons—we didn’t want too many newlings competing with us for prey.”

  Sylvan leaned against the open casement window. “Why are some hosts so susceptible to the Vampire essence that they become rapidly addicted?”

  “The feeding hormones are usually eliminated from the host’s system slowly, over a few days to a week. In some, they’re so rapidly broken down the host suffers withdrawal without a new infusion and then experiences extreme pleasure with each new exposure—causing an addictive cycle. And again, impossible to predict.”

  “And what about Lara?”

  “Lara’s blood volume was completely replaced with mine—like a bone-marrow transplant, only under rapid, traumatic circumstances. My guess is her Were genetic sequences fused in some unanticipated fashion with the Vampire genes. That might explain why she doesn’t respond to ultraviolet radiation the way most Vampires do.”

  “I’m not sure that her Were characteristics haven’t been altered as well,” Sylvan said, remembering the strange transformation she’d seen when they were trapped underground. Lara had taken a half-form, ordinarily something only an Alpha Were could assume. “She may be stronger than ever now.”

  “It seems we both have something new and potentially dangerous to contend with.”

  “You still claim her as yours?”

  Jody smiled. “She is mine.”

  Sylvan growled softly. “And mine.”

  “What of the prisoner?”

  Sylvan grumbled. “We have more than one. A human we caught when we raided the research facility who swears he is a friend but will not reveal who else he works with, the two human females with Were fever, and now this damn cat.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “I don’t know much. An Alpha with newborn cubs, hiding in Pack land. It makes no sense at all.”

&nbs
p; “I’m surprised she’s still alive.”

  “Ordinarily, she wouldn’t be. But she says she has information for us and…” Sylvan shook her head. “Lara has claimed her as her prisoner. She is within her rights, as she represents you, but there is still the issue of Lara being on Pack land without official sanction.”

  “Let’s see what the cat has to say, and then we can decide what to do with her.”

  “Then we can decide what to do with all of them.”

  *

  “You’re right about the healing,” Drake said to Raina, hanging the stethoscope on the IV pole next to the treatment table. “There’s evidence of blood in your chest cavity, probably from a punctured lung. However, you aren’t showing the symptoms I would expect. How do you feel?”

  “The pain is almost gone.” Raina had been wary about submitting to the examination, but the wolf had been thorough. And gentle. By the time it was over, she felt stronger. It no longer hurt to take a deep breath. The pressure in her belly had disappeared. The weakness was starting to wane too. Her cat prowled nervously, fretting to be free. They’d taken the collar off, but her hands were still cuffed. She ought to be able to slip out of them if she shifted, but once she did, she would have to attack swiftly and lethally. She would not attack a pregnant Were, even if she was a wolf, unless she had no other choice.

  “I wouldn’t have expected you to heal so quickly without shifting,” Drake said.

  Raina said nothing. She shouldn’t have healed so quickly even if she had been able to shift. Lara was the cause. She shivered lightly, remembering Lara’s mouth on her throat, Lara’s body moving over hers—reliving the heat, the violent, excruciatingly pleasurable release.

  Drake frowned. “What else happened out there?”

  “Nothing,” Raina said.

  “That’s not what your body says.”

  Raina glanced down. Her pelt had thickened down the center of her torso, her skin glowed, slick with sex-sheen. Her cat paced and hissed, wanting a joining. Deep inside, she felt a call, different than she had ever known. A tearing, gripping drive to mount and join and claim. Her breathing grew ragged, and she leashed her cat before she broke her bonds and clawed her way out of captivity. “It’s nothing.”

  Drake was silent. She couldn’t force Raina to tell her what had prompted the physiologic response, but the nature of the response was unmistakable. Something had stirred the cat’s mating instincts. Even she could feel Raina’s urgency, and her wolf stirred, despite being mated and pregnant. “If you have a mate out there, one who will try to find you—”

  “I don’t.”

  “Another cat on Timberwolf land will be killed on sight.”

  “No. No one is coming.” Raina’s limbs trembled, her belly tight with need. “I need to see my cubs.”

  “Remember your promise—”

  “My word.”

  “All right.” Drake took the key Niki had left, unlocked the cuffs, and slid her arm behind Raina’s shoulders. “Let me help you sit up. I’ll take you to them.”

  “Why are you helping me?” Raina shuddered from the power pouring off the wolf, but it was not her she craved. The bite on her neck flamed. Her cat screamed in rage, and she closed her eyes, holding her beast down.

  “I’m helping them,” Drake said softly. “They’re innocent in this struggle.”

  *

  Lara grabbed Zahn’s arm and pulled her across the huge stone-floored ground level of Sylvan’s headquarters to the massive front doors. She shoved them open with her shoulder and dragged Zahn out onto the plank-floored porch.

  A sentrie appeared out of the dark, his bare torso illuminated by the fingers of flame thrown by the fire pits in the courtyard. He blocked their path, a rifle canted across his chest. “My orders are no one leaves the building.”

  Lara snarled. Zahn’s rich citrus scent filled her nostrils, the iron in Zahn’s blood a potent lure, inflaming her. Her mouth filled with the tang of feeding hormones. Hunger throbbed in her belly and her sex. She could enthrall him, but the assault would be a breach of Jody’s treaty with the wolves. She could take him along with Zahn—she was hungry enough to drink them both dry. If he didn’t yield—

  “Warlord,” Zahn murmured, her tone a quiet warning.

  Wordlessly, Lara yanked Zahn down the long porch to a corner beyond the reach of the firelight, into the dark recesses of the night. Zahn opened her shirt, exposing her breasts and the elegant column of her throat, her heartbeat a loud, seductive pulse in Lara’s head.

  “Feed, Warlord,” Zahn whispered, slipping her hand around Lara’s nape, drawing her ever deeper into the shadows.

  Lara shoved Zahn against the wall, pinning her to the rough logs with her body. She skimmed her canines over Zahn’s breasts, almost breaking skin. Zahn moaned, her back arched. Lara sucked at the hollow of Zahn’s throat, the promise of blood so close driving her to a frenzy. Sex-sheen misted her skin. Her clitoris readied. The need was so great she shuddered, bloodlust and frenzy warring in her guts.

  Zahn groaned and shoved her fingers into Lara’s hair, pulling Lara’s mouth to the pulse in her neck. Her hips thrust against the rough fabric of Lara’s BDUs. “Drink.”

  Lara managed to hold back long enough to slide her hand between them and open Zahn’s trousers and her own. In seconds, she was naked between Zahn’s legs with her canines buried in Zahn’s throat. Zahn whimpered once and orgasmed, her head thrown back against the wall, her fists clenched in Lara’s hair. Lara swallowed, the electric heat of life pouring through her. She rocked between Zahn’s legs, the slick essence of Zahn’s release hot and thick on her swollen flesh. She groaned, her ass tightening. She swallowed and thrust. So much power filling her, so much need. Her wolf clawed and snarled for freedom, wild to tangle, to join. Lara set her claws into the firm muscles of Zahn’s ass and yanked her closer still, riding her, ready to come.

  Her strength magnified with every swallow, but her hunger grew. Pleasure taunted her, elusive and cruel. She needed to come. She needed to empty her mind and body of fury and desire, of anger and want. Her claws broke skin, her hips churned. So close.

  Zahn cried out and came again. Lara drank deeper. Zahn’s blood was rich, potent, honed by centuries of breeding for this unique destiny. Prey—Zahn was prey. Her prey. She would drink her, drain her. Her wolf would feast. The agony would end.

  Lara yanked her mouth away and blood flowed down Zahn’s neck and over her chest. Lara howled in rage and need. All around her she sensed wolves. Pack. And one scent that twisted inside her above all the others. Cat.

  Lara’s wolf roared and she exploded, her mind a merciful blank.

  Chapter Ten

  “This way,” Drake said, leading Raina through the infirmary toward a rarely traveled hallway that jutted off the central corridor at the far end. Niki walked close behind them, her weapon trained on Raina. Drake doubted Niki would even need a weapon to subdue the cat at this point—Raina was healing rapidly, but she showed signs of malnutrition and chronic blood loss. Weres were extremely resilient and long-lived, but they weren’t invincible. Raina looked as if she had been living under duress for some time.

  “When do you expect your young?” Raina asked.

  “A few weeks.” Drake punched in a code on a security panel next to a reinforced door. The nursery was one of the most highly guarded areas within the Compound. Weres had so few young that each was a precious gift to every member of the Pack, and everyone protected them. The Compound hadn’t been raided in years, but at one time, when the Timberwolves had been establishing their territory and bands of marauding rogue wolves and feral cats would make clandestine strikes at their encampment, the young had been frequent targets. A few had been lost, and even one loss was more than the Pack could bear.

  Maternal wolves and dominant soldiers frequented the nursery, caring for the young, guarding them, and providing the nursing mothers a peaceful and quiet place to attend their offspring. Pups stayed with their mothers for a few
weeks after birth and then, if healthy, moved to the nursery where they could be socialized with their littermates and other Packmates, and where their training could begin. Most of the young spent the majority of their time in skin, although the offspring of the most dominant wolves would frequently shift unexpectedly for brief periods of time.

  Drake felt a stirring in her belly as her connection to the young lives milling about in the nursery energized her senses. She and Sylvan would keep their young in their den longer than most young spent with their mothers. They expected their young to shift earlier than most, and if the pups tried to explore and escaped the confines of the nursery, they might get hurt. Drake smiled, thinking about their young inheriting Sylvan’s strength of purpose. She had no doubt they would want to run as soon as they could.

  “Your first?” Raina asked.

  “Yes. You?”

  Raina nodded. “I would not have had them now, when the future is so uncertain, but my heat was strong and the time…” She shrugged. “The time was right.”

  “You have no mate?”

  “No.”

  Drake couldn’t imagine life without Sylvan. She would have to survive for the sake of the Pack and for the young she bore, but she doubted she could exist very long without her mate. Her life force, her very essence, was bound to Sylvan. She shuddered inwardly, unable to conceive of the loneliness Raina must endure. “Sophia, one of our medics, has been tending the cubs. She’ll let you know if she’s found any problems, but you’ll know better if something is amiss.”

  Raina quivered, scenting her young so close. “Are there wolf pups inside?”

  “Yes, but not in the same unit as your cubs.” Drake wanted to assure her that she and her cubs were safe, but she wasn’t sure she could offer that. She didn’t know who Raina was or what she’d done, or why she had crossed into their territory. Sylvan had yet to question her, and until the Alpha had come to a decision, she would not offer false hope.

  “We won’t have much time this visit.” Drake nodded to the sentrie who stood post at the mouth of the corridor. “Evan. All quiet?”