by L. L. Raand
Sylvan bounded across the space between them and pulled Drake into her arms. She kissed her, fevered and hard. “No one will dare to touch a mated wolf, especially not the Alpha when her Prima is anywhere near.”
“Just remarking,” Drake murmured, nipping at Sylvan’s lip. She sat on the side of the bed and pulled on her boots. The shirt she had chosen was too tight, and she pulled that off in favor of a looser one. So few wolf Weres had delivered in recent years, she wasn’t sure how to judge her progress, but the fifty-day gestational period most wolves experienced seemed accelerated in her. Absently, she smoothed the plain black cotton shirt down over the fullness in her abdomen and tucked it into her black BDUs. They still fit, but not for much longer.
“You’ll be too pregnant soon for hunting,” Sylvan said, pride in her voice. “Then you’ll have to settle into the den and let me and our wolves hunt for you.”
Drake lifted her brow. “That’s what you would like to think, Alpha. But I’ve been doing a little research, and the maternal females tell me it’s perfectly safe for me to run in pelt until it’s time for the pups to arrive.”
Sylvan frowned. “And who gave you permission to talk to them about our pregnancy?”
Drake laughed, her heart lightening at the perplexity that crossed Sylvan’s face. “You really do need training, Alpha.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If there’s something you need to know—”
“I’m quite capable of finding out for myself.” Drake wrapped her arms around Sylvan’s waist. “Be careful tonight. If there is a fight, I don’t want you thinking about me. I promise I’ll step aside. I won’t do anything to endanger our young.”
“I know. I don’t expect bloodshed, but with Francesca”—Sylvan raised a shoulder—“there’s no way to know what games she plays.”
“Then it’s best we act before she does. Surprise is our best weapon.”
The sound of the Rover pulling up in front of their private quarters signaled it was time.
“Remember this,” Sylvan said. “No matter what I say tonight, the only thing that matters to me is my family and my Pack.”
“I know,” Drake said. “I trust you with my heart, with my life.”
Sylvan’s face went cold, the fire in her eyes no longer flame, but ice. “Centuries ago we fought to escape our servitude to the Vampires, and then we fought the other Praeterns to claim our lands. We will never go back—no matter who we must fight.”
*
“Bring her out,” Niki said, unlocking the bars to Raina’s cell.
The blond wolf and one Raina hadn’t seen before, a muscular green-eyed female they called Dasha, came in to get her. Both were dressed for battle in fatigue pants, tight green T-shirts, and boots. Dasha, the more senior one, carried a stun gun. The blonde held a pair of gleaming metal cuffs in a gloved fist.
“Cuff her hands,” Niki said.
Raina stiffened, showing her canines. She didn’t like to be touched—even when she was coupling, she only tolerated the contact for the length of time it took to blunt her heat. Cats in general were solitary, hunting and roaming alone or with their young. They only congregated for purposes of mating or fighting. To be manhandled by an enemy sent her cat into a near frenzy. Her skin quickly slicked with aggressive pheromones. She couldn’t best both of them, but her cat didn’t care. She wasn’t going to allow them to shackle her with silver again. This time they would have to stun her.
“No,” Lara said, walking into the cell. “If we’re attacked en route, she won’t be able to defend herself. She’s not going anywhere.”
“You don’t know she won’t try to escape. You may trust her,” Niki said, “but I don’t.”
Lara stepped between the two Were soldiers and Raina, blocking the stun gun Dasha held with her own body. She slid her hand around Raina’s neck, ignoring the two wolves, and caught Raina’s gaze. Her eyes bored into Raina’s, holding her in the most excruciatingly pleasurable paralysis. Raina had never met another dominant so strong. Even the wolf Alpha had not affected her this way. Softly, Lara said, “Your word, Alpha Carras?”
Heat flowed from Lara’s fingers down Raina’s spine, spreading out inside her, settling her cat, soothing her in a way she’d never experienced before. And as much as she was soothed, she was excited. Her cat’s pacing increased, but she didn’t want to fight. She wanted something else. Her pelt flowed molten beneath her skin, her blood hummed with anticipation, her sex readied. She wanted to rub against this wolf, this enemy, this Were who stirred her in ways she didn’t understand and still ached for. “My word, Warlord.”
Lara’s brows rose at the formal address, but she smiled. “Good.” She let her grip linger, absorbing Raina’s anger and something else. Desire. Her wolf circled restlessly, a familiar pressure building inside her to run, to tangle. But with a cat? She scented Raina’s desire, the taste of her blood a fragrant memory. Bloodlust stirred her Vampire core and she let her thrall sweep out, enclosing Raina in a wave of sexual craving. Sex and blood, hunger and desire. Two driving forces she couldn’t separate. She shuddered, pelt streaking her abdomen, her canines lengthening, feeding hormones flooding her throat. She wanted Raina. Her blood called for Raina’s, her wolf dared Raina’s cat to run, to chase, to tangle. Raina leaned into her hand, her green cat’s eyes liquid with promise. Abruptly, Lara turned her face to Niki and the soldiers, escaping Raina’s gaze. She wasn’t the only one capable of thrall—Raina captured her with just a look. “We’re wasting time.”
Raina shuddered as if pulled from a dream. Her heart raced and she was wet. Full and wet and ready. She hissed in frustration—that a wolf could call her so strongly, that a Vampire could tempt her so wildly.
Lara squeezed her neck gently and released her. “Raina will not run.”
Niki growled but conceded. “The Rover’s outside.” She paused, met Lara’s gaze. “Good hunting, Centuri.”
Lara nodded gravely. “And to you, Imperator.”
Raina walked beside Lara, who was silent as they crossed the Compound to the waiting SUV, the two guards close behind them. Lara did not touch her, but Raina was aware of Lara’s every breath. She’d only ever sensed her cubs so acutely. Even other cats in her Pride, with whom she could connect over great distances, did not resonate so deeply in her awareness. Maybe it was the blood they’d shared, and the idea did not repel her as it once did. She pushed the disquieting realization aside—she had to survive the night. Then she would find a way to gain her freedom.
Inside the vehicle, Raina sat between Lara and Dasha on a long bench bolted to one side of the rear compartment. The other wolf sat opposite her with the Vampire she’d seen in the hall outside the Alpha’s headquarters. Dark hair, blue eyes, thin as a steel reed. The other one, Lara’s master, sat up front with a third Vampire who drove. A small force, but that was better. They could move quickly, and they’d have to. The cats along the border were always on guard against wolf attacks, although they weren’t as frequent as cat incursions into wolf territory. Now, without an Alpha to impose even a semblance of order on the small fragmented groups within the Pride, the dominant cats were likely fighting for supremacy. Raiding parties skirmishing in the mountains would have sentries posted.
Jody glanced into the back. “We’ll drive as far as the area where Lara found you and cross into cat territory there. How far do you anticipate we’ll need to go before we find the ones we’re looking for?”
“The humans hired three or four dominants as guards. They used to hunt in this area, so hopefully, at least one of them will still be around.”
“What would they do if they scented you?” Jody asked casually.
“Track me,” Raina said, “until they could gather a force and set up an ambush as quickly as possible.”
“They’ll be looking for you, won’t they?”
Raina shrugged. “They’ll know I wouldn’t stay in Pack land any longer than necessary. I would have been gone in another day if Lara
hadn’t come across my den.”
“Where would they expect you to go?”
“I have loyal followers in the north, but after I was attacked, most of them went into hiding, fearing those who drove me out would hunt them next. I would go there to rebuild my forces.”
Lara turned to face Jody. “You want to use her as bait.”
Even running with the Rover’s lights off, the moonlight was enough to show the Vampire’s savage smile. “That will probably be the quickest way to draw the attention of the ones we seek. We’ll send Dasha and Jace in one direction as decoys, and Raina can head north along the path they would expect her to take. We’ll split their forces.”
“And our own.” Lara’s voice had deepened, her displeasure plain. “Once they scent Raina back in cat territory, they’ll send their heaviest force after her. She won’t have enough protection.”
“She’ll have four Vampires as backup. More than enough to handle any number of cats.”
Raina had counted three Vampires, but then she realized that Jody counted Lara as Vampire. To her, Lara was Were, even though she knew she wasn’t completely. But she wasn’t Vampire either. The remote indifference that emanated from the other Vampires was missing in her. She was fire where they were ice, she was raw power where they were elegant control. Lara tasted like life where the others radiated the dark shadow of death. Lara was…other.
Lara growled softly. “If more cats have massed in the region since Raina disappeared, she may need more protection than we can give her. It won’t help us if they trap her and tear her to shreds.”
“If they trap her,” the Vampire across from them commented, “they’ll be even more distracted. And we will have what we came for.”
“Remember your station, Rafaela,” Lara said with such deadly softness the hairs on the back of Raina’s neck bristled.
Rafaela murmured, “I am yours to command, Warlord, if in service to my Liege.”
Lara’s canines flashed and the rumble in her chest grew louder. “You are mine to command as long as I live, Master of the Guard.”
“As you say, Warlord.” Rafaela smiled, her show of incisors a subtle taunt.
Raina instinctively slid her hand along the inside of Lara’s thigh. “It’s not a bad plan.”
“You’re not at full strength,” Lara said quietly, amber flames igniting in her eyes.
The muscles beneath Raina’s fingers were stone. She stroked, letting her cat’s claws extend enough to puncture Lara’s pants. She broke skin, her cat making her strength known. “You forget that I am an Alpha. I’m capable of doing what needs to be done.”
“I won’t have you hurt in power games that have nothing to do with you.”
Raina stilled, wary and uncertain. She’d always been alone. Since she’d been a cub, she’d fought for her place in the Pride, fought for the position her instincts drove her to take. To lead, to protect. No one had ever stood between her and danger, and only her willingness to die to hold her place had won her the loyalty of her followers. She did not trust this wolf who fought for a Vampire, but her cat pushed on. Pushed closer, drawn by instinct over reason.
“I’ll be all right,” Raina said. “And you will be near.”
Lara’s hand covered Raina’s, pressed it against her thigh. “Then I’ll run with you.”
Raina laughed. “A wolf in cat territory? You do want to bring everyone down on us.”
“My wolf will bring the dominants, won’t she?”
“She will bring every cat within fifty miles.”
Jody laughed softly. “I like that plan, Warlord. After all, we might as well take advantage of the wolf you harbor as long as we can.”
Lara turned to meet Jody’s gaze with cool eyes. “My wolf is not going anywhere.”
“We’ll see, won’t we,” Jody murmured. “And tonight we’ll see just how well she fights.”
Chapter Seventeen
Nicholas Gregory was in bed, but not asleep, lying quietly in the dark on his back while his wife, Penelope, breathed softly beside him. He stared at the ceiling, distantly aware of the occasional rumble of traffic outside their town house, his thoughts on his next move in a plan he’d set in motion two decades before. That’s when he’d first become aware of a transformed genetic strain his researchers had at first thought was a new mutation. Only further investigation had disclosed that the strain was very old—as old as mankind—and the subhumans who carried the mutation had been living among humans, in some cases even interbreeding, for millennia. His great-great-grandfather had founded the family’s fortune with an apothecary shop that had grown into a pharmaceutical giant, and now Gregory Research was an international corporation involved in everything from medical research to clandestine biowarfare. Bad enough he and other Americans should have to compete for control of global markets with the rising tide of third-world nations, but to live side by side with animals and undead abominations asking to be treated as citizens? He would see them all truly dead first. He’d already sacrificed more than any man should have to in this war—his only son had been killed by Weres. And soon he would have his retribution.
He thought of the explosion at Mir Industries and hoped he had crippled Sylvan Mir’s organization enough to prevent, or at least delay, her scientists from studying the subjects of his own experimentation. No one, not even the Praetern Shadow Lords he pretended to work with, really knew his long-term agenda—the eradication of every last Praetern from the face of the earth. And he wasn’t alone in his desire to see the world cured of these diseased creatures. He only hoped he wouldn’t have to keep up the pretense of working with the Praetern rebels very much longer. He detested their primitive behavior and uncivilized urges.
He thought of his last meeting with Francesca, the Vampire leader, and as it had done that night, his cock hardened. Evidence enough that a creature who could bespell a man of his control could not be trusted among lesser men. She and her kind were as dangerous as the Were animals, even if superficially more sophisticated. He brushed his palm over his erection and drew his hand away when pleasure jolted along his spine. Breathing hard, he ignored the pressure in his groin that demanded release. He was not an animal.
When his cell phone vibrated on the antique mahogany nightstand beside his bed, his first thought was Veronica. She had the annoying habit of calling him at home even when he had reminded her on multiple occasions not to. Her way of proving she was in control and didn’t take orders from him. She seemed to think he was unaware of her little power plays, but he hadn’t risen to the pinnacle of political and financial supremacy without learning to recognize—and neutralize—those who sought to manipulate him.
Fortunately, Penelope habitually took a sleeping pill at bedtime and never awakened even when he left the bed in the middle of the night. He slid the Egyptian cotton sheets aside and swung his legs to the floor, lifting the cell phone at the same time. He rose, grasped his robe from a chair beside the bed, and walked out into the hall before answering. “Yes?”
“Nicholas.” The smooth baritone greeting was instantly recognizable and Nicholas was instantly alert.
“Good evening.” Nicholas didn’t greet the man by name, uncertain of their security. His phone was untraceable, one he carefully changed every few weeks, providing the number to only a very select few. But he didn’t trust anyone else to be as cautious, even when they should be.
“I’m in my car. I think we should talk, don’t you?”
The question wasn’t really a question, but a command. Nicholas was usually the one arranging meetings and giving orders, but in this instance, he had no choice. A wise man recognized the power of another and didn’t challenge until he was certain of victory. “Of course. Where and when?”
“I’m circling the park. I could pick you up on the corner of State and Lark in, say, five minutes?”
“I’ll be there.”
The call was disconnected without any other pleasantries, and Nicholas hurried into his dressing ro
om. He slid a suit from its clear plastic dry-cleaning bag and laid it carefully over a chair back and then donned pressed boxers, a snowy white dress shirt, and dark socks. He thought about a tie but decided against it. He could be casual, considering the hour. After pulling on the pants and jacket, he slipped into dress shoes, grabbed his wool topcoat, and hurried down the wide central stairs. The door from the servants’ quarters at the rear of the first-floor hall opened and his assistant stepped out. William was dressed as he might be for the start of a regular workday in conservative dark trousers, pressed shirt, and tie. His hair was neatly combed. “Can I be of assistance, sir?”
“No, thank you. I’m just going out for a few minutes.” Nicholas trusted William, who had been with him for almost twenty-five years, completely—even more than his wife. Their association went beyond the professional but stopped short of friendship, of course. William was unmarried, and Nicholas had been aware for years of William’s attraction to him. He didn’t return the interest—he had never had any unnatural feelings in that regard, although he never discouraged William’s attachment. Perhaps subtly encouraged it. Affection strengthened loyalty. He smiled and waited for William to join him, briefly gripping William’s arm and leaving his hand there as he spoke. “I appreciate you being so available, but I’ll be fine tonight.”
“Very good, sir.”
“I’ll see you at breakfast, then?” Nicholas smiled as he met William’s gaze.
“Of course.”
“Good. Good night, William.”
“Good night…sir.”
William disappeared as quickly as he had emerged, and Nicholas walked out into the cold, clear night. A limousine idled at the corner, and he quickly glanced up and down the row of brownstones. A cab circled the park, but the streets were empty. He strode rapidly toward the corner, and as he approached the limo, the rear door opened. He slid into the spacious backseat of the Town Car and pulled the door closed as it sped away.
