Doms of Dark Haven 2: Western Night

by Sierra Cartwright, Belinda McBride,

  It was tough not to get excited in a place like this. As they walked into the tiny foyer, the smell of sex, pain, and fear rolled over Tex’s senses. He took a moment to let it process and then stepped up to the desk. Ethan and Kurt were the de facto leaders of this evening’s business, but Kurt was focused on defending himself against the multilevel barrage of sensation. As always, Ethan was focused on his partner. They were each other’s strength as well as weakness.

  “Hi, I’m Destiny. Do you have a membership?” The receptionist was cute, perky, and stark naked. Well…except for the boots and cowboy hat. And the toy badges that served as nipple shields. When he saw the plastic six-shooters strapped to her curvy hips, Tex grinned. She grinned back.

  “We’re here to meet Xavier. He’s expecting us.” Ethan’s voice was low and smooth, and to Tex’s amusement, he was having a hard time not staring at those little badges.

  She glanced around the desk and apparently located a note confirming his story, because she immediately picked up a phone and placed a call.

  “My Liege. The guests you expected are here.” She listened for a moment and then hung up the receiver.

  “My Liege?” Hunter muttered sarcastically.

  The faint, nearly inaudible growl that reverberated through the air had a feline edge.

  “You will show respect to your host.”

  Hunter bowed his head submissively and nodded at Ethan. The receptionist looked from one man to the other, her eyes wide in surprise. When Ethan’s cat came to the fore, it packed a punch. But then, as the lone feline in a pack of wolves, Ethan had to be tougher than most.

  The girl cleared her throat. “You guys can just step inside. Master Xavier will send someone for you in a few minutes.” Rather than looking frightened, the girl looked intrigued. Not good. They really couldn’t afford to blow their cover. Ethan must have been on edge.

  Tex gave her a friendly smile and pushed past the curtain, then ushered the other men through. He stood, braced himself, and then grinned in delight. He’d been to Dark Haven before but had never seen it look as it did tonight. Cowboys and gamblers rubbed shoulders with saloon girls and schoolmarms. This being San Francisco, there were a few Chinese beauties in nineteenth-century dress as well.

  Country music filled the air, and a mechanical bull was in motion. Over the blare of country music, cheers and laughter rose as the bull started its slow gyrations. As he watched, a seminaked woman slipped from the back of the bull and landed in a spill of white petticoats. As the small crowd cheered, she whooped, slipped out of her lace-up bodice, and gamely climbed back onto the bull. As it began to buck and dip, her bare breasts jiggled and bounced.

  “Oh dayum!” Tex dropped the bag he carried and stepped farther into the room, checking out the place from floor to ceiling. There was a stair to his right and private rooms to his left. A small trio of scantily dressed subs performed a line dance for a group of doms. One young woman was topless, wearing only a thong, a hat, and boots.

  He laughed again and then went still, the wolf on full alert. There were too many smells bombarding him to make out any single scent, but nevertheless, something suddenly set his nerves on edge. Hunter froze next to him, still and silent. They exchanged glances. He looked back at Kurt and Ethan, but they were focused on each other.

  Hunter stood motionless, his cock clearly visible as it pushed against the front of his jeans. His bright gaze skittered from one side of the room to the other. He was conflicted, overwhelmed, and obviously excited. He licked his lips and met Tex’s gaze.

  “You okay, Hunter?”

  He nodded curtly. Tex turned away to hide the smile in his eyes. It seemed Hunter shared his interest in kink. It wasn’t surprising; most shifters had a taste for rough play and domination. It was all part of preparing for the mating process.

  “Gentlemen? This way, please.” The spell was broken as a slender blond man approached. He was wearing nothing but chaps and a leather thong. His ass was pale and muscular; red lines showed that he’d been caned recently. Tex checked him out appreciatively, aware of Hunter’s sudden tension. Tex sighed and held back the suggestive comment that was on the tip of his tongue. Bisexuality was the norm among the male wolves, but he didn’t want to make Hunter uncomfortable. Not here and now, anyway. He’d get some mileage off this evening when they were home and relaxed. Maybe he could even get a laugh out of the quiet man.

  They followed the young man through the back corridors of the club and finally arrived at an unmarked door. It was painted black and barely noticeable. The man opened the door and stood back as they entered. When the door closed, the room was hushed and quiet. The contractor in Tex had to admire the soundproofing in the room. The dom appreciated it as well.

  A tall man reclined on a leather sofa, his long legs stretched out before him, and he looked utterly at ease. Looks could be deceiving, though, as his scent told a different story. He was tense but under complete control. Something big must have been up to have ruffled the mysterious owner of Dark Haven. He rose gracefully, nearly of a height with Ethan and Kurt, who were the tallest among them.

  “Master Xavier.” Kurt extended a hand. If he was still overwhelmed by the atmosphere of the club, he’d hidden it well. “Allow me to introduce my family. This is Ethan, Hunter, and Tex. My name is Kurt.”

  They all shook hands and gave one another appraising glances.

  The man looked comfortable with the title of master. It suited him well. He was clad in dark Western wear, black trousers, a burgundy vest, and a ribbon tie. A frock coat was thrown over a chair; a low-brimmed hat rested on top of it. His long black hair was arrow straight and dropped down his back in a braid. He looked from one man to the other, but didn’t comment on the lack of surnames—or the obvious ethnic differences of the four “brothers.”

  “Chase was not able to come into the city today, so we came in his stead. He didn’t tell us why you needed us to come.” Kurt’s slight accent was another anomaly. One would expect to hear a European tone to his voice. Instead, his was the French-tinged accent of the Caribbean. Xavier hesitated a moment before gesturing for them to take seats. The dom leaned against his desk, taking the higher position as the other men took spots on the sofa and chairs. He gazed at them; his hooded eyes were sharp and appraising.

  “Sometimes unusual people drift into Dark Haven.”

  Tex smiled to himself. He had no doubt the place drew some oddballs. But he held his tongue.

  “It isn’t uncommon for people to wind up here seeking sanctuary.”

  Eva, Harte’s mate, had done exactly that. She’d been chased in from the street by Abraxas hunters, their greatest enemy. She’d met the alpha of the local pack that night, leading to a strong and passionate mating.

  Xavier looked into their faces. Tex noticed that he didn’t make direct eye contact with the other three men. But he met Tex’s gaze. The man had crazy-good instincts. Of the four, Tex had spent the most time in human environments and was least likely to take the eye contact as challenge.

  “I have someone here who might belong to you.”

  “A woman?” Hunter was on his feet. He moved toward Xavier until Tex reached out to hold him back. They didn’t need any sort of aggression.

  Xavier gave the distressed man a sad gaze. “No, it’s not a woman.” He pushed away from the desk and indicated that the men follow. They left the office through a back door that opened into a break room, complete with food, chairs, and a cot. The room appeared to be empty, but Tex could smell…something. Something not human. Something uncanny and wild.

  Hunter surveyed the room, his nostrils flaring. He looked toward the far corner of the room and stepped forward, then peered behind a large recliner.

  He went still. Tex’s skin prickled. If he’d been in wolf form, his hackles would be up.

  “Kurt. Ethan… You need to come here…”

  There wasn’t enough room for all of them, so Hunter shoved the massive chair as though it was a piece of ch
ildren’s furniture. When Tex saw what he revealed, his insides froze.

  A child lay huddled on the floor, curled in a fetal position. His hair was paler than Kurt’s, if that was possible. His face was tucked into his arms, which protected his head. His scent was wild but not wolf. He was most certainly not one of theirs.

  And yet…

  Ethan stood, looking back toward Xavier. “We’ll take care of him.”

  Now he was one of theirs. Tex closed his eyes and silently gave thanks to God that Chase and his men had co-opted the weak, leaderless Truckee Pack. Their new alpha was not only powerful, he was compassionate. His betas followed his example.

  “I came in early to do paperwork, and he was here in the break room, exactly like this.” Xavier’s voice was soft and gentle. “The club is locked up tight after closing, and I didn’t find any evidence of a break-in. Nothing showed up on the video feed. He was so frightened that I was barely able to dress him. He hasn’t eaten or had anything to drink all day.” He cleared his throat.

  The sharp scent of fear piss filled the air, and Ethan knelt beside the youth, not touching, but leaning close enough to offer comfort.

  “Hey, kiddo, no need to be afraid. I’m Ethan, and I am part of Chase’s pack. Did someone send you here? Were you supposed to find us?”

  In alarm, Tex glanced back toward Xavier and was relieved to see that he’d left the room. Last year the pack had stolen a youth from Abraxas. He’d been horribly abused, his ears and eyes sealed with glue. Deuce was still impaired visually, but his hearing had returned. All Abraxas had required from him was his sense of smell.

  Fortunately this boy hadn’t suffered that particular abuse, though it was clear he’d been traumatized. He was wearing oversize sweats and a T-shirt, probably provided by Xavier.

  The boy held out a trembling hand, letting his fingers curl open one by one. A small square of tightly folded paper had been wedged inside. Kurt gently extracted it from his hand and carefully unfolded it.

  “He looks just like—” Hunter broke off, aware the boy was listening. The other men nodded, leaving Tex in the dark. Didn’t matter; he’d find out soon enough.

  “Smells the same too. But he’s got shifter in him.” Ethan bent closer, peering at the boy’s face. Gingerly he raised the black T-shirt and examined the youth’s skinny torso. Tex swallowed hard. There was a crude tattoo on the kid’s chest. It was similar to the one on Deuce.

  “‘W3.’ What does that mean?” Tex squatted, looking down at a face that was too delicate…too lovely to be of this world. The boy appeared to be in his pre or early teens. His skin was fair and far too pale. When he opened huge eyes, they were as gray as a storm cloud. His hair looped into huge curls that tumbled down into his eyes.

  “Wraith. Experiment number three.” Hunter’s voice was choked and tight. “We all have similar marks somewhere on our bodies. Mine is on my neck.”

  “Does that mean Wraith conducted the experiment or that he was the donor?” Ethan reached out to stroke the boy’s cheek, but he turned his head away.

  Kurt cleared his throat. “‘Chase, take care of him for me. Please. W.’”

  He continued to stare at the page. “Never thought of that bastard as a victim before.”

  “Who’s Wraith?” Tex reached to the chair where Xavier had left a small stack of clothes. After a moment’s hesitation, he gently pulled off the boy’s pants and replaced them, wincing at his emaciated state. Bruises and scrapes peppered his skin, right down to the genitals. Carefully, he dressed him in fresh clothing. He’d need to visit Doc Briony first thing.

  “Wraith is part of Abraxas, but not really.” Ethan stood and moved to the far side of the room. “He never really played their game. Came and went as he pleased. When they found Eva last year, he was part of their hunt squad. He had Eva in his hands and let her go.” He folded his arms across his broad chest and watched the boy. “Wraith isn’t human, and he’s sure as hell not shifter. This kid must be his son.”

  “Or maybe they did some sort of gene-splicing.” Hunter stepped away as well, giving Kurt room to lift the boy from the floor. “Whatever the case, Wraith is invested in this one.” Hunter looked at the other men. “You think it’s safe to take him home?”

  “Probably not, but we don’t have a choice.” Kurt passed the boy to Ethan, who readily accepted him. Within seconds the boy’s stiff posture began to relax. Whatever it was that Ethan did was working like magic. He stroked the blond curls, lulling the youth into a drowsy state.

  “You think there’s a back exit out of here? I don’t want to take him through the club.” Ethan looked over at Tex.

  He nodded and led the others down the corridor to a door that led out into an alley. Competent as Chase’s men were, they still weren’t aware of the little things in everyday life, like mandatory fire exits.

  Kurt paused outside the door, scanning both directions. He turned to Tex and Hunter. “Did either of you scent something suspicious back there?”

  Tex shrugged. “I didn’t, but something made my hair stand on end.”

  “Same here. Too many scents to sort through, but there was something. You want us to check it out?”

  Kurt nodded. “I felt something. Complex emotion that reacted when we came in. We’ll take the boy home in the sedan. You two check it out, then rent a car or catch a flight to Reno. If you think it’s Abraxas or anything out of the ordinary, call Harte and Eva. They’re closer and can give you a hand if you need it.”

  Tex nodded and stood back, watching as the two men walked cautiously down the alley and to the street.

  “You think anyone will notice two men carrying an unconscious boy?” Hunter looked up at Tex.

  He shook his head. “Nope. This is a neighborhood with money; they watch out for their wallets and purses, not for other people. Besides, the kid looks enough like Kurt that no one will think to question them.”

  He waited for Hunter to respond, but he was preoccupied. His eyes were closed and his head was tilted slightly. Like Deuce, Hunter had been valued first for his ability to track by scent and second for his uncanny sense of perception when it came to homing in on his quarry.

  “We’ll start outside. Stay near me; my vision tends to narrow when I’m searching for my target.”

  Tex nodded and matched strides with the tracker. His own vision was acute, and he allowed the wolf to rise just enough to sharpen his night vision. They’d scouted the block and were moving on when his cell phone vibrated.

  “Tex here.”

  It was Kurt. His voice was quieter than usual and fraught with tension.

  “The note. It just changed.”

  Changed? Tex stopped, knowing that Hunter could hear both sides of the call. Their eyes met, and Hunter’s were glittery with…what? Fear?

  “Okay. Go on.”

  “There’s another line. It says, ‘The girl is in danger. Find her fast, and get out.’”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. If it’s Holly, you two need to find her and bring her home. The last thing our girl needs is to get taken back to the labs.”

  Kurt ended the call, and Tex tucked the phone back into his pocket. Without another comment, the men trotted back down the street and slipped into the front door of Dark Haven.

  Chapter Two

  Hidden by the shadows of the dungeon, Holly pressed the heel of her hand over her chest, struggling to catch her breath. Her heart pounded as though she’d been running for miles, and every nerve in her body fired off conflicting signals.

  They were here.

  She closed her eyes and counted to ten, gathering her self-control. When she opened her eyes, she glanced down at the handle of the leather strap she clasped and then looked at the rosy ass of the sub she’d been punishing. Slowly she circled him. He waited in a heightened state of expectation and anxiety. His cock was rigid, and his breathing came fast; he was just on the verge of the climax she’d forbidden. If she ran, Holly would draw more than a lit
tle attention to herself.

  Especially if she left the poor man tied to the St. Andrew’s cross, wearing nothing but a blindfold, his cock waving in the air.

  She pulled a breath and cast her enhanced senses through the room and then out through the building. They were here, but not in the same space as she. If she was lucky, she could finish the scene and sneak out the dungeon exit.

  Holly replaced the strap with a tiny wheel that caused a prickling sensation on the skin. She loosened his bindings and placed his hands on top of his head. “Stay as you are. Do not move.” She ran the wheel up his quivering belly to his chest and gently rounded his nipples. In spite of her tension, she smiled as he trembled. She leaned down and trailed her tongue along the path of the wheel. He tasted good, like salt and sex and human. Good, but not what she wanted.

  “Anthony, do you want to come?” she whispered into his ear.

  He swallowed and nodded. His body was taut with need. A shiny drop of precum welled at the eye of his penis.

  “Say it.”

  “Mistress, I need to come. Please.”

  “You’ve done very well, Anthony. You may come. Now.”

  Without so much as a touch to his flushed, engorged cock, the sub arched his back, crying out in climax. Holly stepped to the side, watching the milky fluid spurt to the floor. She looked up into his face and, as always, was awed by the sheer abandon and ecstasy that came with orgasm. As she’d never before experienced it herself, it always delighted her to watch another carried over that mysterious edge. Someday she’d know what it felt like. Someday the aching in her body would find release.

  Once she brought him down from the cross, he thanked her properly—with a kiss on each leather boot. Holly escorted Anthony to a cooldown space. Some needed more aftercare, but Anthony preferred solitude, wrapped in nothing but the wooly bliss of his subspace. He wasn’t particularly demanding or needy. He wanted nothing from Holly but dominance.