A.L.F.A. Instincts

by Milly Taiden

  “He what?” the Russian asked.

  “He had to land extremely hard. Enough to damage the helo, obviously, since they abandoned it.”

  “So,” Mikhail said, “try again.”

  She fisted her hands. “Mikhail, did you not understand—”

  “Yes, I’ve seen it done,” he replied. “Try again.”

  Shit. He was going to get them killed. Now or later. She checked wind direction again and would try a different angle where the air didn’t bounce off the metal containers as much. Maybe that would help.

  Hovering over the ship, she tried again. This time the ride was less rough and they landed with a thud.

  “Now get out. We’re going to see your executioner.” Mikhail laughed.

  CHAPTER 39

  Josh had never been prouder of his little mate than he was at that moment. She had nerves of steel and hands as steady as they came. Her knowledge and expertise had let them do the near impossible. Hopefully, that wasn’t all for naught.

  He climbed from the passenger’s side and was met by three huge Russians. Damn, they grew them big in that country. They rivaled him in size and they were human. As he looked at one of them, the other bashed him in the head.

  Pain zinged through his scalp and neck, taking him to his knees. He heard Candy screaming over the cheap shot, not far away. He pretended to stay down so they would think him less a threat. He needed to get his bearings and come up with an escape plan.

  They dragged him through doorways and down stairs to a cell made with iron bars welded to the floor, walls, and ceilings. His hope was that his mate would be with him. One of the men spoke in a language he didn’t understand. The cage door opened and he was thrown in. Candy was pushed in behind him. Thank god.

  He had to laugh at her. She was chewing them a new asshole and was pretty damn good at it. If they’d understood her, they might be afraid. When the men had left, she was at his side in a second.

  “Dammit, Josh.” She tore off a piece of her shirt and pulled the bottle half full of water from her pants pocket. She soaked the scrap of material. “Sit up. You need to drink.” Her hand slipped behind his back to help. She held the bottle as he sucked in lukewarm liquid.

  She dabbed at the sore spot on the back of his head. His wolf had sealed the cut, but the area was still a bloody mess. “Can’t you go anywhere without getting into trouble?” she said. Exasperation and humor flitted through her voice. “Seems everywhere you’ve been the past eighteen hours some disaster has occurred.” She lay his head in her lap.

  He smiled. “If I’m correct, you happened to be in all those same places. You sure it’s not you attracting trouble?” The top of his skull was incredibly close to her hot folds where his face had been hours ago. He couldn’t help but breathe deeply, taking in what she offered.

  “Me?” she replied, “I’m completely innocent.” Her eyes were drooping.

  He did laugh at that. “That’s not how you were in your office earlier. You seemed quite the wanton sex goddess.” Yes, just what he hoped. She was aroused by his statement and she flooded the air with her want. Her face flooded red, her eyes wide at his comment. Damn, she was so cute. And his. Her shoulders slumped. Not normal for her.

  “You know,” he started, “when we get back home, you’ll have to move in with me.”

  Her brow rose but eyes remained closed. “Why can’t you move in with me?” She had a point. His apartment was still a bachelor pad with mismatched furniture, and his dinnerware consisted of Hefty paper plates. He had real silverware, though. It was impossible to eat a steak with a plastic knife and fork.

  “Okay, I’ll move in with you,” he agreed.

  Her head was back, breathing slowing. They had been going nonstop for a long time. Geared up on adrenaline and fear, they had been sharp and in the zone for hours. Now his mate was crashing hard as adrenaline drained. Humans couldn’t sustain that heightened state of existence shifters could. Her mind would be shutting down, insisting on sleep.

  He’d let her rest, but not sleep. He needed her to be ready to go on the spot. “Would you like a big wedding or something simple?” he whispered.

  She sighed but remained quiet, which unnerved him. She wasn’t having second thoughts, was she?

  “Josh,” she said, “you are as perfect as they come. I’m about as fucked-up as they come.”

  “And your point?” he said. “Opposites attract.”

  “Oh, Josh,” she sighed again. “You’ll get bored of me quickly and want to leave. I don’t know the first thing about love or how to love someone the right away.” A tear trickled down her cheek. She was too tired for this topic to frustrate her that much.

  He raised his head from her lap and moved her around until she sat against him with his back to the wall. This was so much better. Having her in his arms after all this time. She felt so good. Perfect.

  “You spent all night watching the president and first lady, didn’t you?” he asked. She nodded, her head back on his shoulder. “You even tried to get close to me, but I messed up both times.” She nodded again. “But you tried.” He kissed the side of her head. “I think you want to be loved. To love. To know what it feels like. And now you have it from me.” Her head bobbed.

  “But when you find out who I really am, the hard-nosed sergeant bitch, you’ll run screaming. I have temper issues like my father did.”

  “But how many times did you purposefully quell that anger? I saw you controlling it,” he said. “You have techniques to call on when you get into those situations. You are so strong, Candy. You’ve lived through what would have killed others.”

  He rubbed his hands up and down her arms. “And see this. Almost a day ago, you would’ve kicked my ass for touching you this way.”

  She barked out a laugh. “You are so right, there.”

  “So see?” He kissed her hair again, loving her smell. “We are meant to be. Your body accepts mine and mine more than accepts yours.”

  She smiled at the comment, eyes still closed, head back. “Maybe.”

  “No maybe about it, love. Your body is made for loving and we’re going to have our own pup yard.”

  She sat up and turned to him. “Our own what? You don’t mean pets, do you?”

  “No,” he shook his head, “that’s what wolf shifters call their children. Pups.” The smell of fear stung his nose. Gently, he brushed back hair from her face. “What do you think about having children?” Shit, he should’ve waited to bring up this subject. He was just so ready to move on to the next stage of his life. She wasn’t resting anymore, either.

  “Josh.” Her eyes turned to the floor. “I’m . . . I don’t think I want children.” Her fright ramped up more than ever. She was calmer during the bombs.

  He pulled her back into his arms to lean against him. With what she’d told him about her past, he knew why she held this fear. Question was, did she understand it?

  “Why don’t you want kids?” he asked.

  She shrugged, but didn’t say anything. Her pulse was slowing and her breathing was returning to resting mode.

  “Raising pups is a community thing where I’m from. It’s not just the mother alone with the kids from dawn till dusk. I will be there a lot of the time. In fact, I plan to be there most of the time. I want to be a big part of our pups’ lives. You never have to worry about becoming too rough or . . . violent with them. It won’t happen.”

  In a tiny whisper, he heard her say, “How do you know? How can you be so sure?”

  “Because you know what it’s like and won’t let it occur,” he responded. “You won’t be saddled or overwhelmed with stress. When it’s playtime, a lot of the neighborhood kids get together and play outside or go to the pool, or jump on the neighbor’s trampoline and break their arms.” Her body cringed against his. “But we heal super fast, so the arm will be fine after an ice crea
m cone and chocolate syrup.”

  “Or a DQ chocolate Blizzard with M&Ms,” she said.

  “No way. Reese’s peanut butter chunks blow M&Ms out of the water,” he came back.

  “Huh,” she retorted, “I’ll show you blowing chunks, buddy. Get you and me back in my chopper.”

  He laughed. The return of her smart ass meant she was about rested enough to help get them out of here. Just one more thing he needed to know. He snuggled her tighter to him. “Tell me about your life after your mom passed.”

  She stiffened then relaxed into him. Her throat cleared. “I would’ve run away, except I couldn’t leave my younger sister and brother behind. I knew if I told anyone about my father, we kids would’ve been taken by Child Protective Services and probably split up.

  “I did my best to feed my siblings and hide them when needed. Kept Dad’s attention on me when he needed to rage and vent.” She sighed and paused.

  “On my eighteenth birthday, I had my brother and sister pack the few things they had and we snuck out of the house when Dad finally passed out. I drove them to our aunt and uncle’s a couple towns over and dropped them off. I gave my aunt a journal I’d kept since the day Mom died.

  “In it I wrote down everything that happened, everything I felt, and chronicled my dying childhood dreams. That way she would fight to keep my siblings if Dad came around wanting to take them back.”

  He asked, “Did he?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. After I dropped them off, I went to the recruiter station and signed up for the army and left for basic training that day. I haven’t talked to or seen any of my family since then.” She sniffled. “Happy birthday to me. Freedom.”

  CHAPTER 40

  Candy felt energized, a little saddened at recalling the end of her childhood, but that gave her the impetus to get moving. She must’ve caught her second wind. Her brain kicked into drive from neutral. She stretched her legs and realized something. She slapped a hand on her forehead.

  “Well, fuck me,” she growled.

  Josh moved behind her. “If you insist.”

  She batted at his hands and scooted away. “Josh. They never frisked me.” She unzipped her side pant pocket and pulled out a hand gun. Then did the same on the other side for pistol number two. “I just remembered I had them.”

  Josh picked up a weapon, though he didn’t usually carry one. Shifters preferred to use brute strength and stealth, but on a boat at sea, that wasn’t always possible.

  “Okay,” she said, feeling back on her game. “Can you bend the bars?” she asked Josh.

  “Let’s see.” He got to his feet and positioned his body just right then gritted his teeth and pulled the rods. For a second, nothing moved, but then slowly, the bars formed a bow-legged exit. Josh took her hand and they slipped out.

  “Have your nose get us back topside,” she said. To her, the halls looked identical with gray paint and pipes running everywhere.

  She opened a door, and salty air hit her nose and tongue. The wind was brisk and chilly with no sun to warm it. If she waited a few more hours, it would be time for it to rise. But, yeah, she wasn’t in the mood.

  Through the shadows, Josh led them along the stacked containers crowding the center of the ship. He stopped and peeked around a corner, then turned back to her.

  “Doesn’t seem to be anyone up here. They’re all in the stern or below deck. We should be able to get in and take off. Can you do that quickly?” he asked with a smile.

  Her eyes rolled. “I don’t know. Never tried to be fast before.”

  He pecked her on the lips then they took off running. Josh got her in her seat and closed the door then hurried around to his side. Her fingers danced over buttons and switches in a routine she’d done thousands of times over the years.

  At a tap on her window, she turned her head. Mikhail stood frowning, gun resting against the window. Son of bitch. Where had the fucker come from? They were so close. Then she realized Josh hadn’t gotten in the bird yet. Her heart leapt into her throat. Where was he?

  She heard a noise. Maybe a gunshot, but the spinning rotor blades made too much noise to be sure. Either way, Mikhail disappeared from her door. Where did he go? Where the hell was Josh?

  One of the guys who escorted them to the cell came around the corner. She opened the pilot’s door and shot at him, hitting him in the chest. Others followed behind him. Before the men saw her in the cockpit, she dropped to the deck and rolled under the craft to the few feet of deck left before going over the railing.

  Her hair whipped around her face and stung her cheeks. Keeping low, she scrambled to the side looking for cover. A bullet ricocheted off the railing beside her head. She dove toward a crate but it was too far to do her any good. Another shot bounced in front of her, showering splinters from the decking onto her.

  She dropped her gun and raised her hands, though she doubted it would do any good. Killers like Mikhail killed with no remorse or second thoughts. The only thing to stay his hand would be money.

  Another man charged her, gun aimed at her. Instead of shooting, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to her feet. He drew her backside against his chest, placing the gun under her chin. He asked in a heavy accent, “Where is your boyfriend?”

  Anger and possessiveness rolled through her. Josh wasn’t a boyfriend, he was her mate, which meant he loved her and would never hurt or leave her. “How the fuck do I know?” She threw her head back and smashed her skull into his nose. The feel of cartilage giving way was satisfying.

  With a double-arm elbow thrust to the man’s stomach, she doubled him over and pushed him back a few steps. Grabbing his hair, she drove a knee to his head, sending him sprawling, out cold. Thank god for the exhaustive self-defense training the army forced recruits through.

  More bullets bounced off a beam at her side. She fell flat, snatched the prick’s gun from him and fired blindly until the clip was empty. The shots at her stopped. But more rounds were blasting on the other side. Was Josh over there? Stupid question. Trouble followed him, right? Or was it her? Either way, they made great contenders for Mr. and Mrs. James Bond. She’d be happy with the Boring family instead.

  All the things Josh had said in the cell were right. She was afraid of being like her father if she had children. She’d seen Monica and her husband interact and already knew she wanted to emulate them. And she’d already decided Josh was perfect. He kept saying he’d never leave, so what the hell?

  A shot flew over her head and Josh came out of nowhere, tackling her to the deck. Blood had soaked the front of his white T-shirt, which was smeared with mud, cobwebs, and grass stains. His breathing was heavy, face alarmingly pale. He needed to shift before he died.

  A voice came from behind her and she turned on her knees, keeping Josh protected at her back. Mikhail, bloody and beaten up, pointed his gun at her and slowly limped toward them. She had nowhere to go and no weapon to defend her and Josh.

  She sat with her back to Mikhail and scooted Josh’s head and shoulders onto her knees. “Josh, you need to shift now.” He rolled his head side to side.

  “Can’t protect you then,” he managed.

  “You aren’t now, either,” she hollered over the helicopter’s engine. “You die if you don’t shift and what good are you to me, then?” He still refused. She looked over her shoulder at Mikhail. The man was determined to kill them point-blank. That would be fine for her, but Josh would survive if it was the last thing she’d do.

  “Listen to me,” she said. “You may not be in the military, but you’re damn close enough. So that means you are under my command since I’m one of the highest there is. And I’m ordering you to shift this instant and hide.” A hard object poked at her head. She saw Mikhail’s feet at her side. This was it.

  Josh reached toward Mikhail, still trying to protect her to his dying breath. Not if she had her way.
She looked into Josh’s eyes locked onto hers. Her last words: “I love you. Have since the moment I walked into your office. Now, shift.”

  She threw her body backward, slamming against Mikhail’s legs. A gunshot rang in her ears.

  CHAPTER 41

  As Josh lay on the cargo ship’s top deck, he cursed himself for letting his mate get into such trouble. How many times could he have done something to change this outcome? Who knew?

  Mikhail had made his way to them. Josh had to admit, the guy looked like shit, but refused to die. True psychos were hard to kill. Something about them refused to give up.

  He heard his mate’s beautiful voice, but didn’t understand what she was saying. He was surprised his heart was still beating. Actually, no, he wasn’t. He had just as much will to live to protect his mate as the psycho killer had. But he’d lost so much blood. If he shifted, he’d be too weak to do anything. Who was he kidding? He’d reached that point in his human form also.

  He heard his Candy say “shift.” No, he couldn’t. No. She said it again. He felt his wolf wanting to obey her command. Unable to disregard it. She was alpha. She commanded his shift and he had to comply.

  The first bone in his body cracked as loud as a gunshot. The shift swept through him like a cold fire, reshaping, rearranging. In the end, he lay on his side, panting, staring at the Russian and his own mate, entangled and lying motionless on the ground. A puddle of blood grew underneath them.

  The helicopter quieted and the blades began to slow. Shadows moved silently all around him. Some slipped through doors, others out of sight.

  A familiar smell passed him and a dark figure knelt beside Candy. A growl rumbled out his weak body. His wolf would attack if this person didn’t move away from his mate this instant.

  “Chill out, Tumbel,” Mike Ward said as he pivoted in his squat position to face Josh’s wolf. “Damn, I have to say those old man sweatpants are sexy as hell on your wolf.” Mike patted the animal’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Director, we got this covered. We’ll have you back on land shortly.” He started to stand then turned back to the wolf. “Bridges wants his men back ASAP. And no more buzzing the White House. He wasn’t amused.” Mike laughed.