The Rock Star and the Wolf (Siren Publishing Classic ManLove)

by JC Holly

  “They could have broken in at any time.” Mitch sat down heavily. “They could have killed us in our sleep.”

  Harlan squeezed his arm. “I would have killed them. They only managed it because we were sleeping on another floor with a closed door.”

  Mitch nodded once. The idea that shifters had been in his kitchen made his skin crawl. It was one thing to listen to stories, or watch your boyfriend head off to follow tracks, but quite another to see physical proof lying on a table.

  “What does it say?”

  Harlan tore the envelope open and glanced at the single sheet inside. His fist clenched around the paper and he threw it aside.

  “It’s a threat.”

  “What kind of threat?”

  Harlan shook his head and turned to the door. “I need to check on your security staff. Stay in the house and keep watch.”

  Mitch called for him to wait, but it was no use. With a sigh he dipped and scooped up the letter, then read its contents. Other than an address with directions, the message was short.

  Murderer,

  You will come to us and stand trial for your crimes, or we will tell the world all about your boyfriend. And then we will kill him in front of you.

  * * * *

  Harlan hurried through the hall and burst out of the front door at a run. He could smell blood already, and it wasn’t a shifter’s. The guard manning the security station by the gate saw him coming and came out to meet him.

  “Mister Shaw just called. I’m checking the surveillance now.”

  Harlan nodded once and began to pace by the small wooden hut, his gaze alternating between the TV screen inside and the ground of the house.

  How the hell could they get past him? Even masking their scents, he should’ve smelled them coming way before they got near the pool, never mind the kitchen. He snarled under his breath as he thought about them walking about Mitch’s home undetected. Once inside they could have done a damn sight more than just leave a letter. They could have trashed the place, started fires… Hell, they could have just blown the place up. He froze in place.

  “So why didn’t they?”

  The guard poked his head out of the hut. “Sorry, sir?”

  Harlan just shook his head and resumed pacing. The pack wanted him to meet with them. They wanted a trial, the result of which was already pretty obvious. But why? Why not just take him out from a distance and be done with it?

  Because I humiliated the alpha.

  Once again, Harlan’s attitude had got him in trouble. Not only had he killed Brubeck, he’d kicked the crap out of two of the alpha’s men at the original meeting, then crashed two more into a tree stump, then kicked the crap out of a fifth. Every time someone had come against Harlan, he’d beat them. And that would hurt the alpha’s leadership. Before long his pack would start considering him weak, and the worst possible thing he could do now would be to have Harlan taken out from a distance. He needed to bring him to the pack, so that they could see him destroyed by the alpha.

  “Here, sir.”

  Harlan turned back to the security guard to find him pointing at the screen. He replayed a short clip on a loop, showing a bush near the fence shift. A moment later the video went to static.

  Harlan watched it a few more times, then gestured for it to stop. “What happened?”

  “Some sort of temporary distortion. There’s nothing but static for a few seconds, then the screen is clear again. Then later another feed goes down.” The guard shook his head. “They got over the fence in seconds, and were back out in less than five minutes. That shouldn’t be possible.”

  Harlan had no words for the man. He could hardly tell him that the intruders were supernatural creatures. He patted the man on the shoulder and headed back to the house. Mitch was waiting by the door, his gaze flicking about the grounds.

  “Well?”

  Harlan nodded back to the hut. “They got over in the same place that they staked out. Stopped the cameras for just long enough to scale the fence. Whoever was watching probably just thought it was a minor fault.”

  “Fuck.” Mitch rubbed the side of his head, his attention still on the grounds. “What now?”

  Harlan stepped past him into the house and pulled the doors closed. “I go to them.”

  “What!” Mitch shook his head. “That’s not going to happen. No fucking way.”

  “It’s the only way, Mitch.” Harlan flexed his fists. “Nobody threatens the man I love and lives.”

  “There must be another way. Can’t we call the police, or your Ancients?”

  “No, and no.” Harlan headed upstairs to the bedroom, Mitch in tow. “The police would never catch them if they didn’t want to be caught. I wouldn’t risk human life, anyway. I don’t know what this alpha is capable of.”

  “And The Ancients?”

  “Their policies are very clear in such matters. If I can’t handle it myself, I’m clearly not capable of performing my job.”

  “So they fire you.” Mitch threw his hands up. “Big deal. It’s not worth your life.”

  Harlan turned to his lover and put his hands on the man’s shoulders. “You don’t understand. There is no leaving the employ of The Ancients. I know too much.”

  “So they’d kill you?”

  “That, or lock me up. If the stuff I knew got into the wrong hands we could end up in a full-scale shifter war. Believe me when I say you don’t want that.”

  Mitch sighed and bowed his head. “So you’re damned either way.”

  “Hey. You make it sound like I’m going to lose.” Harlan winked. “I don’t lose.”

  “Famous last words of many badasses, no doubt.”

  He nodded. “You’re probably right. Even if I fail, though, you’ll be safe. Part of my job’s, uh, bonus package, is complete protection for loved ones in the case of my death. And I mean complete.”

  “That’s not exactly heartening.”

  “It’s the best I can do.”

  Mitch was silent for a long time, his eyes closed and his breathing slow. “We’ll go into hiding. I have properties that nobody knows about. Not even the band.”

  “What sort of life is that?”

  He smiled. “As long as I have you, what else do I need?”

  Harlan had to smile and pulled Mitch close to kiss him on the forehead. “You’re going to hunker down in this house, and you’re going to pull all your guards into the house with you.” He held up a hand as Mitch tried to reply. “You’re going to tell them that someone made a death threat. Call the police, too, if you want, but don’t tell them any specifics and don’t show them the letter. In fact burn it. If I’m not back by nightfall, call the number I’m about to put on your phone and leave a message on the answering machine that explains what happened.”

  Mitch took a deep breath, then nodded.

  Twenty minutes later Harlan stood in the spare room near the camera dead-spot, the window open and the morning air stirring the curtains. Mitch stood next to him, arms folded and a neutral expression on his face.

  “You’d better come back in one piece.”

  Harlan pulled him into a tight embrace. “I love you, Mitch. There’s nothing on this planet that could keep me from you.”

  Mitch kissed him softly, then pushed him back. “Go on, then. Go and kick ass.”

  * * * *

  Mitch watched Harlan until he was gone from the view of the window. He’d never felt so useless as he did at that moment. He knew he could handle himself in a fight against a human, but even with his shifter abilities, he would be crushed underfoot by any shifter with more experience—which was every shifter. He rested his head against the cool wood of the window frame. There’s one thing I can do.

  He flipped open his phone and called his agent.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Harlan reached the shadow of the woods in a run, then stopped and began to pull his clothes off, then hung them on a low branch. Despite his reasoning about the alpha’s shaky position, and desp
ite the letter having said there would be a trial, he was taking no chances, and walking through the woods in human form was a risk. If he shifted he’d certainly be more conspicuous if he had to cross an urban area, but he’d also be safer from ambushes.

  He dropped to all fours and willed the change. He was so distracted that the pain barely even registered. He’d been in fights before, but they almost never involved a third party. Most packs had had honor enough to not stoop to such threats. Brubeck’s pack were not exactly endearing themselves to Harlan.

  As soon as the shift was complete he set off, ears, eyes, and nose on the alert. He kept to the wooded areas as much as he could, but there were several occasions when he had to break cover and head into civilization. Normally he wouldn’t dare expose himself on the streets of a large city, but there were more important things going on than a few screaming tourists. He dropped his head and focused on his goal.

  He arrived at the address given less than an hour later. Before entering the old warehouse, he scouted the area, looking for shifter reinforcements or other traps. He found nothing so headed to the rear of the building and shifted back to human form and knocked on the door.

  Inside he heard a scuffle and some hints of whispered voice and a moment later the door opened wide. A very familiar man stood in the doorway. The man from the car crash. Arms folded, imposing bulk blocking Harlan’s entry, he glanced down at Harlan’s nakedness and smirked.

  “Out streaking, were we?”

  “You healed well,” Harlan said as he pushed past him. “I’ll try harder next time. Where’s the boss?”

  “You smug bastard!”

  The man rushed at Harlan’s back but was stopped by two other shifters, one of whom told him to cut it out. “We ain’t to touch him,” the man said. “You want to piss off Willem?”

  “Willem, is it?” Harlan asked as he walked down the short hallway and out into a larger room packed with shifters. The pack was bigger than Harlan had thought. “Willem! Time for my trial. Don’t keep me waiting.”

  “You’re cocky, for a dead man,” came a voice from a side room.

  “And you appear to be hiding from me.”

  Willem stepped out of the small room, eyes wide. He thrust a finger at Harlan. “I hide from no one. I’m not the one who fled the town instead of facing me.”

  “Happy coincidence, I assure you. Besides, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  The big man snorted. “Is murder nothing for you, then?”

  “On the contrary. I take life very seriously. It’s the only reason that the people you sent after me are still breathing.”

  A ripple of murmurs spread amongst the assembled shifters, followed by some shouts and threats. Again Harlan heard the man behind him being held back. Even if he beat the alpha, it looked like getting out unscathed may prove difficult.

  He pushed the thought from his mind for the time being. “So, my trial.”

  Willem gestured to the next room. Harlan started to walk in there, only to drop to his knees, gasping, as someone punched him in the kidney. A laugh came from the shifters as two men gripped him by the armpits and dragged into the next room.

  Some of the pack had clearly been busy. They had built a set of tiered benches along one side of the large room, giving room for at least forty people to sit in relative comfort. Directly ahead was another, comfier seat, that was no doubt for Willem. A few feet in front of that sat a steel chair with wrist and leg restraints welded on.

  “Love what you’ve done with the place,” Harlan said, which gained him a blow to the back of the head, which left him seeing stars.

  “Shut the fuck up,” a voice hissed from behind.

  Harlan did as he was told and let them drag him into place and fasten the steel restraints, locking him into place with hefty padlocks. He tried to keep his cool, but it was getting difficult. I’m doing this for Mitch. The words helped, and he raised his head to take in what he could of the room as Brubeck’s pack began to take their positions.

  Other than the seating, the room was entirely nondescript. Plain unpainted plasterboard walls, a light fitting above his head that made up for the lack of windows, and that was about it. Somewhere off to his side, a crackling voice said something about a speeding car on the highway. Police radio. It made sense, given that Mitch had enough sway to call in the damn SWAT team if he felt threatened. As well as that radio, another, quieter one played music. The volume was increased as a familiar voice started to sing over a thumping bass. Chuckles spread about the room.

  “Hey, it’s your boyfriend,” Willem said as he took up his seat in front of Harlan. “Fitting.”

  Harlan lurched forward in his chair, more to test the restraints than from anger. “Promise you’ll leave him alone.”

  “Why should I do that?”

  “Because I left your pack members alive. You know I could’ve killed them.”

  Willem glared at him, then glanced to the people sat to his side. “As long as you don’t try anything, he’ll be just fine. He can keep his little secret, too. For now.” He smirked. “You never know when information like that will come in handy. I might want a Porsche at some point.”

  Harlan nodded in agreement. He wasn’t worried about them threatening Mitch’s life, really. The Ancients would see that he was protected if anything happened to Harlan, and that was as good as locking the guy in a bank vault for the rest of his days.

  What did worry him was the media feeding frenzy that would come with his outing. Harlan would never have hid it in the first place, but he understood the reasoning, and that he had the other band members to think of. So Harlan would keep the secret, and try his damnedest to stop Willem from telling it, too.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said.

  “Very well.” Willem stood. “You killed a member of our pack, correct?”

  “Yup.”

  “And you attacked several other members?”

  “In self-defense, yes.”

  “They were bringing you to me. They did not attack.”

  Harlan raised an eyebrow. “And I suppose the guns were just for decoration, were they?”

  “There were no guns.” Willem frowned and turned to look at the woman who had been in the car. “What is this?”

  She looked down, then away. “I just thought… Well, we just thought…”

  “He killed Brubeck,” the man who was sat next to her said. “We weren’t taking any chances.”

  “I said no fucking guns!” Willem turned back to Harlan. “You bring us down to his level.”

  “My level?” Harlan snorted. “Please. I tracked down and executed a murderer. What you’re doing is the equivalent of trying to kill a cop for doing his job.”

  “Shut your mouth!” Willem lunged forward and socked Harlan on the jaw.

  Harlan opened and closed his mouth a few times, then spat on the floor. “Let’s cut the bullshit, Willy. This isn’t about Brubeck.”

  “It’s not?” Willem laughed and sat back in his chair. “Please, do tell.”

  “At first it was, sure. I killed a member of your pack, and that’s an insult. Thing is, you saw the evidence I gave you. It was airtight.”

  “No, it wa—”

  “Airtight,” Harlan said, his gaze on Willem. “You know it was. I wouldn’t have tracked him for so long if I only needed circumstantial evidence.”

  Willem didn’t reply, but he didn’t tell Harlan to shut up, either.

  “Problem is that I humiliated you in the first meeting. I’d apologize, but you wouldn’t listen. Anyway, that pissed off a few of your pack. Maybe put a few dissenting opinions amongst them. So you decide you’d best haul me back in for a good talking to, so the pack sees you doing something.” Harlan shrugged. “Of course, I got out of that, which made you look even worse.”

  In the background the song had changed to a news report. Something about breaking news. He put it from his mind for the moment. There were more important things afoot than some actor’s st
upid name for their child.

  “So by this point you’re really getting it in the ear. Maybe some of the pack are getting really pissy. I mean, how dare I come in, kill a guy, then stroll off like it’s nothing.” He eyed the crowd and spotted more than a couple of agreeing nods. He was on the right track. “Am I warm?”

  Willem only glared for what felt like minutes before speaking. “The reasoning no longer matters. This can only end in one way.” The man pulled a knife from a sheath on his belt and rested it on his knee. “You knew it the moment you got the letter.”

  Fuck. It was clear that reasoning with him was long gone, as was the idea of a fair fight. If Willem did anything other than kill Harlan there and then, the respect of the pack would be fractured, or even lost. The alpha was as trapped as Harlan was.

  He glanced around the room again. The watching pack were a mix of angry eagerness, guilty looks, and impassiveness. The latter worried Harlan the most. To have got to the point where the death of a fellow man meant so little.

  He frowned as he heard a name mentioned on the radio that he recognized, and turned to listen.

  “…has just released a statement to the press. We now go live to his LA home.”

  Willem turned toward the radio, too, and motioned for it to be turned up. “I want to hear this.”

  Harlan’s stomach lurched as he heard Mitch’s voice, strangely from two directions.

  “I have an announcement to make,” Mitch said, his voice relaxed. “For years now, I’ve been living two lives. Ever since The Twisted Nails became big, I’ve been a womanizing rockstar with a bad attitude and a habit for acting every bit as someone in my profession is expected to. It’s a lie.” There were murmurs on the radio from assembled journalists and a similar sound from the shifters in the room with Harlan. “Someone is currently trying to blackmail me, in the hopes of gaining something very precious from me. I cannot allow that. So.” There was a pause. “I’m gay. I’ve always been gay, and I will always be g—”

  “Turn it off!” Willem roared. “Now!”

  The radio went dead, but the sound remained. A shifter ran off through a door, then reappeared, his eyes wide. “There’s a car out front with a loud speaker on the roof, playing the announcement.”