The Lone Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  “I remember,” Katya said. “Not the faces, not the people, but I remember her—what I felt, what she made me feel.” She trembled, ran a hand over her chest and down her belly. “Touching me, shielding me.” She squeezed her hand into a fist pressed between her breasts. “I still feel her.”

  “She’s a Vampire,” Sylvan said, making a statement, not an accusation. “A very powerful one.”

  “I know. But she doesn’t compel me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Katya raised her eyes briefly to Sylvan’s before looking away. A brave gesture. “Yes, Alpha. I’m certain.”

  “Why,” Sylvan asked softly. “Why are you certain?”

  “Because I can feel her call right now.” Katya’s eyes glimmered with the glow of her wolf, a strong, young dominant wolf just coming into her power. Under other circumstances she would be ready to tangle at every opportunity, but Katya’s call was muted. Suppressed. But not now, not when she absorbed the seductive caress of Michel’s mind into every cell. Now her wolf was alive and ready. “If she wanted to compel me, she could. But she waits.”

  Sylvan sighed. She could point out Michel might be playing with her, that Vampires by nature were master manipulators. Until she’d met Jody, seen her with Becca, she would have sworn Vampires cared for nothing except power. That was true with Francesca, and yet…and yet, she had played a dangerous game with Francesca, more than once. Katya was young, but she was Sylvan’s wolf. “All right. I won’t ask you to stay away from her, but I can’t let her use you to harm you or the Pack. You understand that?”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Katya stood, her head up, her eyes clear. “Gray wants me gone. I can move back to the campus. I won’t be a danger to the Pack if I know nothing, if I—”

  Sylvan cleared the distance between them and wrapped an arm around Katya’s shoulders. When Katya trembled and her wolf cowered, Sylvan’s chest tightened. Her wolves submitted to her out of respect for her strength and leadership, not out of fear. She pulled Katya close, kissed her forehead. “No. You are not going anywhere. You are my wolf and I want you here. Gray will work out her problems.”

  “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

  “You don’t,” Sylvan murmured. “The memories do, and you are the light in her nightmares. You will stay for her, and for the Pack.”

  “Yes, Alpha.” Katya burrowed her face in Sylvan’s chest. Her wolf crept forward, close to Sylvan’s warmth.

  Sylvan caressed her back and sent comfort and welcome to Katya’s wolf. “As soon as Elena clears you for full duty, you’ll return to the sentries, but there will be times I will need you. Both you and Gray. You’re the only ones who can positively identify your captors.”

  Katya nodded. “Anything.”

  “Good.” Sylvan rubbed her cheek over Katya’s temple. “I want you to see Elena today.”

  “I will.” Katya pulled back. “Alpha—”

  “Yes?”

  “I won’t put anyone or anything before my duty to the Pack.”

  “I know.” Sylvan stepped away. “Now get some rest.”

  Sylvan left the barracks, the image of Katya’s wolf beaten and afraid burning in her mind. Katya might think she could put duty before need and desire, but Sylvan wasn’t at all sure Michel wouldn’t compel her to do otherwise.

  *

  Max waited for Sylvan on the steps of the infirmary. “The Prima said you were coming here.”

  “What is it?” Sylvan asked.

  “Becca talked to the other prisoner, Martin, while you were gone. She thinks he will cooperate if we let him speak to his superiors.”

  “Since they say they are working on behalf of the Praeterns,” Sylvan said, “let’s let them prove it. Give him his call.”

  “Should I monitor it?”

  “Can you trace it?”

  He grinned, a predator’s satisfied smile. “Yes, Alpha.”

  “Then go ahead. He can’t tell them any more than they already suspect—that we have him. He can’t pinpoint our location, but if you can trace them—”

  “We’ll scramble his call. They won’t be able to locate his exact position, but everyone knows where Pack land is located.”

  “They don’t seem foolish enough to try to breach our security, but put the patrols on alert.”

  “Yes, Alpha.”

  “And, Max—I want four guards on the Prima at all times.” She grimaced, glanced at the infirmary. “And tell them to try to stay out of sight.”

  “Uh…yes, Alpha.”

  “I’m going to check on Jace.” Sylvan leapt up onto the porch and went in search of her mate. Max probably thought hiding the extra protection from Drake would be as successful as she did, but it was worth a try. Maybe Drake would be distracted enough by her approaching delivery not to notice.

  “How is she?” Sylvan asked when she entered the treatment room.

  Elena paused in the process of cleansing the scores of slashes and bites on Jace’s shoulders, limbs, and torso.

  “She’s been in a fight,” Elena murmured. “But she should be fine as soon as I clean these and she shifts.”

  “It’s nothing, Alpha.” Jace lay on the treatment table with her twin, Jonathan, beside her. Her eyes were clear but she was pale.

  Sylvan walked to the table opposite Jonathan and gripped an uninjured area of Jace’s upper arm. “I understand you fought well. Anything to report?”

  “The cats aren’t used to tandem fighters,” Jace said eagerly. “They hunt alone, one-on-one, so paired attacks take them off guard. Flank attacks open them to swift frontal strikes. We fought larger numbers all the way back and we won.”

  Sylvan smiled. “That’s because you’re wolves.”

  Jace grinned. “Yes, Alpha.”

  “She won’t be fit for duty for a while,” Elena said.

  Sylvan nodded. “Stand down for a few days. Eat well, regain your strength.”

  “I’m fine, Alpha.” Jace tried to sit up to prove it.

  “I know.” Sylvan held her down with very little pressure. “But I need my centuri at full strength. Two days.”

  Jace sighed. “Yes, Alpha.”

  “I’ll see she rests,” Jonathan said. Jace growled at him.

  Sylvan glanced at Elena. “Good enough?”

  “I’d prefer three, but two will do.”

  Sylvan brushed a strand of dark hair off Elena’s cheek. “Good. Take care of my wolves.”

  Elena rubbed her cheek against Sylvan’s palm. “Always, Alpha.”

  “Have you seen the Prima?”

  “She went to the nursery.”

  Sylvan found Drake with Sophia and the cat cubs. The cubs were in pelt and seemed even bigger than she remembered. Their coats seemed thicker, the brown stripes blending into the deep gold making them resemble their mother even more. Sophia cradled one in her lap and was feeding it from a bottle.

  “How are they doing?” Sylvan asked.

  Sophia’s eyes shone with pleasure. “They were hungry enough for me to coax them to feed.”

  Drake said, “I think they recognize Sophia as Omega and trust her instinctively.”

  “Yes,” Sylvan said. “And considering that their mother is an Alpha, she’s probably communicated with them enough to reassure them she will be back for them.”

  “They have been calmer in the last hour,” Sophia said.

  Sylvan leaned down and peered at the lone cub still in its crib. The male. He drew back his lips to show canines that were definitely larger than the last time he’d snarled at her. She growled, letting her wolf show, and to his credit, he held her gaze another second before crouching back and lowering his eyes. She reached in, gripped his ruff, and shook him lightly in a show of dominance. She kept him in her grip until he relaxed and arched beneath her palm. Sweeping her hand over his back, she murmured, “Hello, little Cat.”

  Drake leaned against Sylvan’s side. “I think they have some awareness of who we are.”

  “He unders
tands who I am now.”

  Drake laughed softly. “How could he doubt it?”

  Sophia put the female cub in next to her brother. “They need to see their mother.”

  “They will,” Sylvan said. “As soon as I’ve talked to her.” She crouched next to the crib and said to the female, who crowded in front of her brother, “Your mother is safe. She’s resting. You’ll see her later.”

  The cub stared at Sylvan, her gaze skating across Sylvan’s, a faint rumble sounding from the back of her throat.

  Sylvan grinned. “They’re a lot like their mother. They’ll fight even when outnumbered.”

  “They’ll sleep most of the day now,” Sophia said.

  “Have you been with them the whole time?” Sylvan asked. Sophia’s eyes were rimmed with shadow.

  “Yes. They don’t trust anyone else.”

  “Get some rest.”

  “I’m all right, Alpha.”

  “I know.” Sylvan stroked Sophia’s shoulder. “Niki will need you too.”

  “Is she all right?”

  “A long night.” Sylvan didn’t add that Niki had spent the night surrounded by Vampires. Sophia knew Niki’s needs.

  “I’ll go to her as soon as I can.”

  “Good.” Sylvan took Drake’s hand. “We won’t be leaving again today. I don’t want to see Niki anywhere around until tonight.”

  Once outside, Sylvan grumbled to Drake, “First my Compound is invaded by Vampires, and now cats.”

  “It seems that Raina fought well with us.”

  “Yes, but she had no choice. The cats have been our enemies for as long as we have shared the mountains. It will take time to build trust.”

  Drake rubbed Sylvan’s back. “We may not have time.”

  “I know.” Sylvan stopped. “There are a few things I should—”

  “Later.” Drake signaled for a Rover, and one of the sentries jumped in and drove toward them. “Right now, we’re going home.”

  Sylvan’s eyes flashed gold. “I might even let you rest later.”

  Drake laughed. “Did I say I was tired?”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Francesca dismissed her guards with a slight nod in their direction and extended a hand to Michel. “Come, darling. Enough of tiresome politics. There are so many other…pastimes…we could be enjoying.”

  Michel followed Francesca across the throne room to a disguised door hidden behind the heavy brocade drapes. The ornately carved section of wall panel swung inward at a touch from Francesca, and they stepped into a dimly lit corridor with rough stone floors and polished granite walls. The narrow passageway led back to Francesca’s inner chambers, and when they arrived, her bedroom was empty. Usually at dawn, Francesca’s hosts waited on her pleasure, artfully arrayed on her bed like a sumptuous feast. This morning, Francesca must have given orders for them to wait.

  Wary of what trap Francesca might have set, Michel crossed to the antique mahogany sideboard and poured two glasses of aged port. She held one out to Francesca. “It seems that our human friends need to learn patience. Nicholas’s flawed attack brought Sylvan straight to our door.”

  Francesca laughed and took the glass. Swirling the dark red wine, she studied Michel above the cut-glass rim. “His tactics do lack finesse. But then he is only human, darling.”

  Michel leaned against the sideboard and sipped the port. Ordinarily she enjoyed Francesca’s power games, but then she hadn’t really been concerned about losing to her for centuries. After all, there were worse fates than death, terminal boredom being one. But now, she was risking more than her own death. Katya was involved. A faint pressure behind her eyes told her Francesca was mind-probing, something Michel had learned to shield against after her second or third century. She didn’t often have to do it, and she was glad. Blocking Francesca took all her will and often left her weakened. Today, though, she deflected the searching force easily. When Francesca frowned, Michel sought to redirect her attention. “Perhaps bringing Sylvan to you will work to your advantage. The wolf seemed willing to support you if a fight comes.”

  “Perhaps. Although the alliance between Sylvan and Jody Gates could become a problem.” Francesca walked to the side of her bed, put down the wineglass, and turned her back. “Untie my laces, will you, darling.”

  “Of course.” Michel set her own wine aside and kissed the back of Francesca’s neck before reaching for the ties on the back of her flowing gown. She untied the satin laces which crisscrossed from the valley between Francesca’s shoulders to the hollow above her buttocks, drawing each strand through the eyelet with slow, steady pressure. As she worked, she kissed each new expanse of bare skin. Francesca moved back until the fullness of her buttocks settled into Michel’s crotch. Michel had fed, and Katya’s powerful blood invigorated her. Her clitoris hardened and throbbed.

  Francesca glanced at her over her shoulder, her lids half-lowered, her eyes liquid heat. “If Jody raises an army of Weres, she will be a formidable adversary.”

  “She’s never shown any indication that she wanted to rule, Regent.” Michel skimmed the gown down Francesca’s sides.

  “Things change, don’t they,” Francesca murmured. She stretched back an arm and draped it around Michel’s neck, tilting her head to press a kiss to Michel’s throat. An instant later her incisors pierced the skin above Michel’s collarbone, the pinpoints of pain releasing an arrow of lust that struck hard in the pit of her stomach.

  “Sometimes they do. But sometimes, everything is exactly as it should be.” Michel wrapped her arms around Francesca’s waist and pulled Francesca roughly against her body. She kissed the side of Francesca’s throat and the edge of her jaw and brushed her mouth over Francesca’s ear. She cupped Francesca’s exposed breasts and caressed the firm, cool flesh. Finding Francesca’s nipples, she pinched, slow and hard. “This never changes.”

  “Mmm, yes.” Francesca sighed, her teeth slashing shallow rivulets in Michel’s throat, reminding her she could tear her throat out in an instant. “But we mustn’t grow complacent, must we?”

  “No. We shouldn’t.” Michel pivoted sharply and pushed Francesca face down on the bed. Straddling her prone figure, she clamped her thighs on either side of Francesca’s hips, skimmed her hand up the center of Francesca’s back, and tethered her to the bed with a hand on her neck. With her free hand, she tugged the gown to one side and slid her hand over Francesca’s ass and between her thighs. Francesca’s cheek was pressed against the bed, her mouth partially open, her eyes hazed.

  “I still know what you need.” Michel filled her in one fast, deep stroke.

  Francesca gasped and arched beneath her. “I need to feed, darling, before I can come.”

  Michel leaned down and sucked the soft flesh at the juncture of Francesca’s neck and shoulder. Francesca understood one thing, and one thing only. Power, and the dominance that came with it. Michel had revealed a vulnerability when she’d let Francesca see her feed from Katya in the club. That had been a mistake—one she couldn’t undo and might not be able to avoid repeating. Even now, the thought of Katya made her blood roil while the female she fucked did nothing more than trigger a reflex need. She hadn’t truly wanted anything for a very long time and was only now realizing it. Now she hungered for Katya’s taste, craved the press of her body, lusted for the exhilaration of her bite. She couldn’t give her up and she wouldn’t let Francesca have her. “I’ll let you feed in a minute. But I’m going to fuck my fill first.”

  “You play a dangerous game, darling,”

  “Do I?” Michel withdrew almost completely and then plunged deep inside her. Francesca closed around her fingers, slick and hard. Her hips churned beneath Michel’s pelvis. Michel fucked her ruthlessly, dispassionately, and Francesca’s body burned like ice around her fingers.

  “I’m close but I can’t—” Francesca’s incisors gleamed, her face contorted with lust and hunger. “Damn you, let me feed.”

  Michel sent out a call to Daniela, Bring your mistre
ss’s hosts, and flipped Francesca over, sliding her hand out and back into her again so quickly Francesca didn’t have time to dislodge her. She stretched out above her and pressed her mouth to Francesca’s neck. “I’ll make you come. I promise.”

  Francesca raked her nails down Michel’s back, shredding her shirt, drawing blood. “I’ll make you suffer for this.”

  Michel laughed and pushed harder, massaging Francesca’s clitoris with her palm. “I hope so.”

  Francesca’s bedroom door opened, and Daniela led a human female and a male Were, both naked, into the room.

  Michel glanced over. “Bring them to your mistress.”

  Daniela guided the hosts to the bed and instructed them to lie down. The male was already erect, and Michel moved to Francesca’s side. Skating her fingers up to Francesca’s clitoris, she said to him, “Fuck her.”

  He rolled between her thighs and filled her in one heaving thrust. Francesca pulled the human female, whose eyes were glazed with thrall, down next to her and struck her neck with lightning speed. The female cried out in shocked ecstasy, and Francesca groaned as she fed and orgasmed.

  Michel fisted a handful of the male’s thick dark hair and jerked his head back. He would be a poor substitute for the one she really wanted, but she needed the taste of wolf. Closing her eyes, she fed.

  *

  At the knock on the barracks door, Max came instantly awake and jumped up naked from the narrow bed. “Report.”

  “Sir.” The door opened and Lyn, a young sentrie, stepped inside. “I’m sorry, Centuri, but an unauthorized vehicle is approaching the west gate. Should we intercept?”

  Max pulled on his pants and buttoned the fly high enough to keep them on. “What kind of vehicle?”

  “A Jeep.”

  “How many?”

  “Four passengers.” She paused as he strode past her into the hall. “Humans.”

  He shot her a glance. “Humans? The only humans who ever come here are reporters or lost sightseers.”

  She shook her head as they bounded down the barracks steps and crossed the courtyard toward the west gate. “They’re not tourists, Centuri. They’re wearing camo.”