Wild Wolf

by Jennifer Ashley

  Misty recognized Jan, the Lupine woman who’d attacked Misty after she’d spent the night with Graham. Jan’s blustering was to cover her fear, Misty realized. Misty remembered that Jan’s Collar hadn’t gone off when she’d gone for Misty—perhaps she was one of the Shifters whose Collars didn’t work right. If the humans discovered Jan wore a Collar that didn’t stop her from violence, what would they do? Fit her with a new one? Cage her? Or worse?

  Misty sped her steps to take her into the path of the soldiers and Jan. Jan saw Misty, and fury entered her eyes along with the fear.

  “Come to gloat?” Jan demanded.

  “Where are you taking her?” Misty asked the soldiers, ignoring Jan.

  “To have her Collar tested,” he said. “All Shifters are. Orders.”

  “Huh.” Misty put her hands on her hips and gave Jan a disgusted look. “You don’t have to test that one. It’s real, all right.”

  “Why do you say that, ma’am?” the soldier asked, trying not to look irritated.

  “Because I got into a fight with her the other day,” Misty said. “She’s jealous as hell. Her Collar started crackling before she even got in a punch at me. I smacked her a good one, and she ran off. Believe me, the Collar worked. The sparks got me—they stung.”

  Jan kept struggling. “Bitch,” she yelled at Misty.

  “See?” Misty said, wrinkling her nose. “She doesn’t like me much. Thinks I stole her Shifter.”

  The soldier looked Misty up and down, his gaze lingering on the skin bared by her sleeveless top and shorts. “Why would you go out with one of them?” he asked. “Ma’am.”

  “For the sex.” Misty smiled at him. “Try it sometime.”

  One of the other soldiers laughed. “She’s not wrong.”

  The soldier holding Jan released her and stepped back. “How about we go after some of the more docile ones?” he asked his colleagues. “This is going to take forever as it is.”

  As soon as Jan found herself free, she took off, running in her long-legged stride. The first man gave Misty another once-over. “You get tired of Shifters, come and find me. I’m at the Shifter Bureau attached to the air base.”

  Misty only smiled at him and walked away. She heard the other soldiers’ voices as they tramped on. “You don’t have a shot with her,” one said, laughing, “especially once she’s been with a Shifter. Tell you what, I’ll take you to this bar called Coolers. There are some hot Shifter women there.”

  Misty drew a ragged breath, feeling sick to her stomach, then hurried out of the heat up to the cool shade of Graham’s front porch.

  Jan stepped out of the shadows of the porch’s corner. “Why did you do that?”

  Misty stifled a shriek and pressed her hand to her chest. “Crap, don’t do that. How’d you get here before I did?”

  “I’m Shifter. I ran. Now, why did you help me?”

  “So they wouldn’t test your Collar.” Misty leaned to her and lowered her voice. “It doesn’t work right, does it?”

  Jan’s nostrils flared. “I’d think you’d want me to be caught. To be locked up, or executed.”

  “Why would I? I didn’t like you wanting to beat me up, but sheesh. Killing you? That’s just wrong.”

  Jan stared at Misty a moment longer then she inhaled. She let the breath out and looked thoughtful. “You aren’t lying.”

  “No. I’m not.” Misty chewed on her lower lip. “Are there other Shifters whose Collars don’t work?”

  Jan nodded. “Some. Eric has them safe. I waited too long to go to ground, and they caught me.” She paused, her gray eyes moving as emotions went through her. “Thank you.”

  Misty gave her a nod. “You’re welcome.”

  Jan dropped her gaze. “Yeah, well. I better go.”

  “Yeah, you’d better. Stay safe.”

  Jan glanced around at the empty street then drew a breath. “The blessing of the Goddess go with you.” She said it quickly, in one go, then she turned, jumped from the porch, and loped away.

  “Wow,” Misty said softly. “That was . . . Hmm.” She pushed open the door and entered Graham’s house.

  She paused inside the front door, an ache in her heart. The house felt so empty without Graham in it. He filled every space of it—the house knew Graham’s laughter, his bellowing voice, his swearing, the way he thundered up and down the stairs and banged around in the kitchen. In that kitchen, he’d made love to Misty, rendering her complete for the first time in her life.

  Misty walked into the kitchen and stopped. Ben sat at the kitchen table, a bottle of beer in front of him, Kyle and Matt sitting on either side. Both cubs were in human form, dressed in sweats and T-shirts, and shoveling down ice cream. They were even using spoons.

  Ben looked up at her and grinned. Kyle said, with his mouth full, “Hi, Aunt Misty.” Matt continued to eat, as though he’d never get enough.

  “What . . . ?” Misty came into the room, moving faster with every step until she leaned down and buried the startled Matt in a big hug. “You’re all right.” Tears wet her cheeks.

  “He was knocked around and bruised up,” Ben said. “No permanent damage. I took them to Andrea. She did her mojo.”

  Misty released Matt, who grinned at her, and collapsed onto an empty kitchen chair. “Andrea’s still here?”

  “Her, Sean, and their cub. But safely hidden away. Andrea was glad to help heal the cubs, though she said Matt wasn’t too badly hurt.”

  “Thank God,” Misty said, heartfelt. “And the Goddess too, I guess. Do you know Andrea?”

  “You should ask—did she know me? Answer, no. Not until I introduced myself. But I know who she is. I keep tabs on Shifters.”

  “Do you really?” Misty looked him over. Ben, as before, had an innocuous look, despite his ex-con appearance. If he really was an ex-con. “You’ve been to prison, have you?”

  “Oh, yeah. I just didn’t say whose prison it was.”

  “And that means . . . what?”

  Ben looked thoughtful. “The Fae put me in prison for a while. They talked about horrible ways to execute me, then they decided banishment would be even better.”

  “Really? If Oison is typical, I can’t believe they thought letting you go was satisfying.”

  “Well.” Ben folded his hands around the bottle of beer on the table. “They didn’t just banish me from Faerie. They banished my entire race. Walked us out into the harsh human wilderness, locked the gates and made sure they never opened for us again. Half of us died the first year. How do you think I feel, knowing that?” Something dark flashed in his eyes, endless pain that Misty guessed never went away.

  “What did you do? To get put in prison, I mean?”

  Ben shrugged, masking the anguished look. “I killed one of their emperors. I killed him because he was running a war that was slaughtering my people, whole clans at a time. I snuck into the emperor’s tent, pretending I was a pathetic sex addict who wanted the joy of an emperor doing me. The emperor’s ego loved that. He got all his guards to leave us alone, and then . . .” Ben sliced his finger across his throat. “I knew I’d never get away, and I was captured, but I didn’t care. Worth it. When an emperor dies, the High Fae clans fight each other to the last man to see who controls the next one, but in a rare case of Fae agreement, all the clans decided to banish me and my people.”

  And half had died in the first year. Misty’s heart squeezed. “Ben, I’m so sorry.”

  Ben shrugged, the flash of pain there and gone again. “Even so, more of us survived because that emperor was dead, and the Fae couldn’t use us anymore. We never thrived again, but we’re still around. We’ve been helping humans and Shifters survive encounters with the Fae for nine hundred years now.”

  “And what are you?” Misty asked. “If you’re not Fae.”

  “Human mythology calls us goblins, hobgob
lins, or gnomes. We were pretty ugly in Faerie.” He grinned. “Or beautiful, depending on your point of view. We learned how to look like humans since we came out of Faerie, changing our appearance every so often so we blend in with whatever fashion of whatever century.”

  “Gnomes,” Misty mused. “Like the little plastic men with pointy hats people put in their front yards?”

  Ben laughed uproariously. Then his laughter died in an instant, and he said, “No.”

  “I was joking. I’ve barely gotten used to Shifters—it will take me a while to process this.”

  “Take your time. I’ll be around.”

  Misty folded her arms on the table. “So, why don’t you look like a successful businessman or a rich man of leisure? If you can look like what you want?”

  “I can almost resemble any kind of human I want. But I look like what I truly am—a man who did a crime and paid for it. I’m never going to pretend it didn’t happen. I sacrificed a lot of people with my stunt, and it wasn’t their choice.”

  Misty went silent a moment. The twins were listening, in spite of continuing to scoop globs of ice cream into their mouths.

  “What do I do now?” she asked after a time. “How do I find Graham? Is he even alive?”

  Ben drained the beer bottle and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “You still have your book?”

  Misty touched it in her back pocket. “Yes.”

  “Look in that.” Ben stood up, carried the empty beer bottle to the recycle bin and tossed it in. “And take those two with you when you go. You’ll need them.”

  “Why?” Misty got to her feet. “Safer to leave them here with Eric or Xav, isn’t it? Or whoever isn’t being hassled by the Shifter Bureau.”

  Ben shook his head. “You’ll need the cubs. They’re very special Shifters. Take care of them.” He started for the back door.

  “Where are you going?” Misty asked in panic. “Stay and help me.”

  “Can’t. You’ll be fine. You have your guards there.” He nodded at the twins, who were watching him, round-eyed. “There are other people out in the world being hassled by Fae. I need to save them too. You have my number if you need me again.”

  He pointed both forefingers at Misty, walked out the back door, slammed it, and headed down the porch steps. There was a flash of sunshine, and he was gone.

  “Great.” Misty felt despair settle over her. “On my own again.”

  “We’re with you, Aunt Misty,” Matt said. “You saved me. Now we’ll save you.”

  They were adorable, both of them. Misty fetched a spoon and the last carton of ice cream in the freezer and sat down at the table with them. As the three of them reached with spoons for the chocolate marshmallow ripple, Misty opened the book. “All right, I’ll look through it. Again.”

  Not until most of the carton was gone did Misty stop on a page. She pressed her hand to it, her heart beating faster. The spell read, How to Find Your Lost Love.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Graham danced aside as Oison struck, but the sword blade caught along Graham’s ribs and broke the skin. Oison ran for Dougal, who had slumped to the ground, but Graham dove over his nephew, protecting him. Like hell he’d let Oison take him.

  Oison raised the sword again and drove it down into the place Graham had been shot. Graham shouted in pain, but he wouldn’t move—Oison wasn’t touching Dougal again with that blade.

  But Graham wouldn’t let himself die, not yet. He needed to live so he could tell Misty how much he loved her. You woke me, he wanted to say. I’d been existing before. Surviving. With you, I learned about life again.

  And about laughter. Misty was always smiling or laughing about something, finding the lightness in any subject. And talking. Goddess, the woman could talk. Her sweet voice had poured over him every time he’d been with her, soothing all the hurts in his soul. How could he have ever thought of not taking her as mate?

  Oison raised the sword again. Graham roared as it came down, then he heaved himself up to meet it.

  He noted with satisfaction Oison’s look of surprise. Graham was strong, stronger than any Shifter he knew, and Oison was going to find out just how strong.

  The sword was in him, but Graham wrapped his hands around Oison’s throat. The Fae’s slim neck was sturdy, but Fae were of the same basic composition as Shifters or humans. They needed air to breathe, blood to flow through their bodies.

  Graham pressed his fingers into Oison’s throat, cutting off the airflow. If he crushed the trachea, no more Oison. He hoped he could do it before his own breath ran out.

  He thought he heard Misty’s voice calling his name. Graham!

  Graham could barely see. He thought he heard the throb of a Harley, which wound him into memories. He and Dougal riding side by side, wind in their faces, charging down an empty Nevada highway as fast as they could go. Riding hard.

  Other voices joined Misty’s. Eric. Diego and Xav. The wild yips of Kyle and Matt. Two small bodies whacked into Oison, and Graham lost his hold. Damn it.

  Graham cracked open his eyes. Matt and Kyle were growling and snarling, climbing all over Oison. Graham seemed to see, superimposed on the cubs, two gigantic wolves, their muzzles huge, eyes red with fury. They were too thick of body and broad of chest to be regular Shifter wolves—these were something he’d never seen before.

  Graham blinked, and they were the cubs again, tearing at Oison, who batted at them as though they were annoying gnats.

  “Misty, no!” Xavier’s voice, and Misty charging past Xav, not listening. Typical. When Misty got the bit between her teeth, there was no stopping her.

  Electricity crackled, and there was Misty, a Taser in her hand. “Matt, Kyle, out of the way.” The cubs turned to stare, yelped, and leapt to the ground. “Get away from my mate, asshole,” Misty said clearly, and she shot a bolt of electricity into Oison.

  Graham had to laugh to see the Fae jolt with the shot. Oison let go of the sword, but not before an arc had laced down the blade into Graham. Graham grunted and fell back, Dougal still beneath him.

  Misty was crying, on her knees next to Graham. Graham had enough energy left to open his eyes, to lift his arm to reach for her.

  Oison recovered—Fae were almost as tough to kill as Shifters. His black eyes like mouths to hell, Oison yanked the sword out of Graham, and swung it at Misty.

  The cubs went crazy again, leaping at him. Xavier slid out his Sig, and aimed it at Oison, but he couldn’t shoot because he might hit the cubs.

  Air popped, and Reid appeared, out of breath, filthy, his eyes as merciless as Oison’s. He shoved Oison away from Misty, and the sword blade went wide. Oison, furious, turned to face Reid.

  The two Fae fought, Reid grappling with him for the sword, rage on his face. Xavier kept trying to aim, but he had no clear shot. Reid landed a hit across Oison’s face, drawing blood, but Oison backed up, his grip on his sword true again, and rammed the blade at Reid.

  Graham heaved himself up. Blood ran from his wounds, and his Collar was shocking him, but the wolf in him gave him strength. He felt himself Shifting before he realized it, into his in-between beast, a monster that was half wolf, half human. Misty, instead of running away in terror, came to Graham and steadied him on his feet.

  Graham roared. He grabbed Oison’s arm as his sword came down to Reid and ripped the blade away. As Oison spun to face him, Graham took the blade in both hands and broke it over his huge knee.

  There was a flash, a sound like a broken bell, and the pieces of the sword fell, tarnished and jagged, to the ground.

  Oison opened his mouth and cried something in Fae, but he only got a few words out before Graham grabbed him by the neck again.

  As Graham had done in his dream, he ripped his claws into Oison’s throat, no chain mail now to stop him. Hot blood poured out over Graham’s hands. Oison locked his fingers around
Graham’s wrists, gasping for breath. The Fae gulped air and started chanting again, another spell, Graham knew.

  Graham felt himself weakening, shifting back to human, whatever magic it was taking hold, but he refused to let go.

  “Graham!” Misty, his mate, screamed. “Get out of the way!”

  Graham saw her, and his eyes widened. He spun Oison around so his back would be to Misty, then Graham hit the ground as Misty, who’d grabbed Xavier’s gun, unloaded every bullet in it into the Fae.

  Oison faltered, but he kicked away from Graham and ran for the opening to the cave. Bullets were lead, not iron, so while they’d slow him down, he could escape to Faerie and live.

  Graham wouldn’t let him. He was on Oison in two strides, changing to wolf, bringing the Fae down flat on his back. He closed his mouth over Oison’s throat, biting down. Graham tasted blood, and saw the life leave Oison’s eyes.

  Oison’s head lolled, blood coming from his mouth, then all at once, he looked straight up at Graham.

  “It’s only the beginning,” he said clearly, then he died. His body crumpled, dissolving into dust.

  Graham shifted slowly, painfully back to human. Misty dropped to her knees next to him, the gun falling from her hands.

  “Graham . . .”

  “It’s all right, Misty,” Graham said, barely able to form the words. “I got the son of a bitch.”

  He collapsed into her arms, spent, but there was no place he’d rather be. The hot summer wind swept down from the ridge and carried the dust of Oison’s dead body into the vast open plain of the desert.

  • • •

  "Dougal first,” Graham said.

  The DX Security van they lay in rocked and swayed over the rutted roads back to Shiftertown.

  “Graham, you have three sword holes in you,” Misty snapped. “And a reopened gunshot wound.” She clung to his hand, her heart slamming in her chest, not liking that Graham’s grip was so weak.