Motor City Wolf

by Cindy Spencer Pape

  Out of nowhere, she felt the magic welling up in her veins. It wasn’t the same, wasn’t what she was used to, and it wasn’t very strong. But it was there.

  Willing all of it into one small push, she felt for the lock of the handcuff on her right wrist.

  Click.

  She didn’t stop to think. Acting on raw instinct, she raised the pistol and shot the guard approaching Ivan and George. A slight turn and she took out the one who’d shot Jase. She’d always done well at target practice. Even if this wasn’t a bow, it wasn’t all that difficult to aim and pull the trigger, though she’d have bruises from the recoil. Tough.

  Based on their agonized screams, Jase had loaded his weapon with silver. Smart man.

  Greg howled and flipped Sofia over, pinning her. Fianna could almost feel his pain as he ripped out the other werewolf’s throat. She aimed at the third guard, but before she could shoot, Greg had jumped the man, who didn’t take the time to change and went down fast. Fianna ducked behind the pole she’d been tied to and looked for another target.

  Lightning crackled, and George yelped, flung away from the demon, while Ivan lay still on the ground. The strike didn’t have much power behind it as before. Clearly, the monster was weakening. It raised its horned head, and Fianna took a shot.

  The demon howled as the bullet grazed one of its horns. Greg jumped at it from the side, forcing the demon to turn away from Fianna and George. George snarled and attacked from behind, shredding the creature’s wings.

  Fianna crawled to where Jase lay in the grass. The bullet had taken him in the thigh. He was conscious, barely, but his heartbeat was still strong. Fianna pulled her sweatshirt over her head and used the heavy cotton to apply pressure to the wound. Wolves didn’t much care about nudity, and it didn’t matter anyway, not compared to saving her friend’s life. No. Not friend, brother-in-law. Jase was family.

  That tiny spark of magic in her trickled up again, and she felt the bullet lodged in his femur, was able to pop it out into her hand and slow the bleeding. She couldn’t heal him, but she could make sure he didn’t die.

  Still pressing down on his wound, she looked over at the fight. As she watched, a thought struck her and she nearly cried out. She knew where the power had come from. Please don’t let me have hurt my babies. Forcing her consciousness into her own body even as she maintained pressure on Jase’s leg, she felt nothing but well-being.

  With a roar that shook the ground, the demon went down. Greg and George each tore a chunk from the monster’s throat, turn by turn, until the head rolled away into the grass.

  The being sizzled, smoked and disappeared.

  Greg and George rose and limped over to Fianna and Jase, where both shifted to human form. “Are you all right?” both of them asked at once, kneeling beside their mates.

  “I’ll be fine.” Fianna leaned back into Greg’s arms when George pushed her hands aside to keep pressure on Jase’s wound. “Jase should be, too, though we could use Elise right about now.”

  “Thank heavens.” Greg buried his face in her hair. A few moments later, he whispered sadly, “Grandfather’s gone.”

  She wove her hands into his hair and held on. “I’m sorry. He was a brave, loyal man, even if he did suck at raising children.”

  “Peter’s gone, too. And Sofia. The guards—some of them had families.”

  Fianna nodded. “From what I’ve learned about the drug, I suspect they were all addicted unknowingly by the demon. One or two doses in their coffee, and they’d be nothing but his pawns.”

  Greg sighed. “The pack is never going to be the same again.”

  Fianna kissed him and took his chin in her hand so he could look at her tear-stained face. “You’ll rebuild it. It will be different, and yes, there were losses that you’ll all have to grieve. But you’re going to be a magnificent leader, and I promise you, the pack will recover. I’ll be right there to help you. After all, you’re going to need a good secretary.”

  Despite his grief and the pain he had to feel from his numerous wounds, Greg smiled. “Thank you. And thanks for the help. You’re a good shot. But how did Jase get you free of the cuffs?”

  “He didn’t.” She took a deep breath and patted her belly with her left hand, which still had the handcuffs dangling from it. “I think our babies did. The magic was suddenly welling up when I needed it to unlock one side, and to help Jase a little. I didn’t mean to draw on them, but they feel fine as far as I can tell. We’re going to have our hands full with these two, I think. Powerful magic and lupines.”

  He closed her against his chest again and gave a strangled laugh. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was a solemn group that trooped back to the house.

  They’d paused so George and Greg could shift several times, until they were in decent shape to walk. Greg had taken the least bloody of the guard’s jackets and given it to Fee. He didn’t care about the pack seeing him naked, but he couldn’t stand to see her shiver. The reality of how close he’d come to losing her—again—made his chest hurt in a way that had nothing to do with his wounds.

  As they trekked through the woods, George carried Jase. Greg cradled Ivan’s body in his arms, while Fee walked by his side on her blistered feet. Sofia and the guards had been left behind, but laid out respectfully on the grass with their eyes closed. Even though they’d turned traitor, they’d once been pack, and their families still were. Greg didn’t even know how much of their guilt was unwitting. Nightshade—if that’s who the demon had been—could have gotten them addicted without their knowledge or will. Odds were they’d never have all the answers.

  A short distance up the path they were met by another group from the house. Derek. Maurice and David. The rest of the guards and a handful of servants. Maurice howled and dropped to his knees when he saw Ivan unmoving in Greg’s arms. Slowly, the others dropped and bowed their heads, as well.

  “Thank you,” Greg said, his voice thick. “Lana, Derek, I need you to check each of the guards and servants for the smell of bleach or vinegar.”

  Since they all knelt, it was easy for Derek and Lana to move from one to the other and sniff. Finally, Lana shook her head. “None of these have been drugged.”

  “Come here, Derek.” Greg’s cousin stepped up and Greg sniffed him, relieved to his soul when he scented no trace of the drug. “I’m naming you as one of my betas, if you’ll accept it.”

  “Of course.” He knelt again. “I give you my oath.”

  “Take the men and go get the other bodies from the side of the pond. We’ll lay them all out in the ballroom while we figure out what to do. I have no idea what the demon did with Peter. Probably burned him to a crisp, but he’s dead as well. Katy’s going to be devastated. Sofia is one of the others.” Sweet little Katy had lost both her father and sister some time ago. Unfortunately, tonight she’d finally know about it.

  “Thanks for warning me.” Derek stood and motioned to the guards. “I’d appreciate it if you’d let me break the news to her and her mother.”

  “Of course.” Greg tipped his head and stood to the side so the others could pass by. “Maurice, David, if you could come with us? I’ll need your expertise to help deal with…everything.”

  “Certainly.” Maurice looked Greg square in the eyes. The older wolf looked every bit of his eighty-odd years. “I’m sorry I’ve opposed your marriage. Peter was so heavily against it, and I was so busy trying to sort out what was going on with him—I didn’t think it was the right time for you to break with tradition. But you came through for the pack tonight, and I owe you an apology and more. You have my oath, Prime. And my condolences.”

  “You were closer to him than I, but thank you.” Greg wished they could postpone this. His back was killing him.

  Lana was the last to stand. “My oath,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help.”

  “You’ve done more than your share already, cousin. And there’s more t
o come.” Greg took a deep breath. “Now let’s go up to the house. We have a long, unpleasant morning ahead of us.”

  Lana stood and wrapped her arm around Fee. Greg sent a mental thanks to his cousin. Together, they trudged back to the garden, where Greg’s grandmother waited at the door.

  “I’m sorry, Grandmother.” Still cradling his grandfather, Greg knelt at her feet on the flagstone patio. “I tried—did everything I could to save him.” He heard the tears that clogged his throat, but he couldn’t will them away. “He attacked the demon single-handedly until George and I could get there to help.”

  “I know, dear.” Tears running down her face, she laid her hand on Greg’s head. “But a demon? How did one get inside the compound?”

  “It’s a long story, Marja, and not a pretty one.” Maurice laid his hand on her arm. “Let’s go inside and talk. Let the boys get some clothes on, and get your new granddaughter off her feet.”

  “Of course. What was I thinking?” Marja stepped back, holding the door for Greg and the others who followed him in.

  “I already called Sutton,” Lana said. “He’s closer than Elise and can probably handle a single gunshot.”

  “Fee needs to be checked out, too.” Greg carried his grandfather’s body through to his study and laid him carefully out on a couch. “And the babies.”

  He turned to find George had laid Jase in the old man’s recliner, while Lana had gotten Fee down into a guest chair and her feet up on a stool. Her soles were caked with dirt, and covered with broken, bleeding blisters.

  Before he could go to her, his grandmother bent and kissed Ivan’s forehead, before dropping to her knees. “You have my oath of support, Gregory.”

  That was the final straw. Greg’s own tears spilled over as he fell to his knees and hugged her. Maurice shut the door behind them as it seemed everyone in the room took a few moments to weep, Lana and Fee, Maurice and David, and George bending over his lover’s unconscious form.

  When they’d all pulled themselves back together, Greg stood and held his hand out to George. “You’ll be my second, of course.”

  “Naturally.” George started to drop to his knee and Greg shook his head.

  “Later.” No way could he deal with that again. He swallowed hard and looked around the room. “Right now, we have a disaster to handle. I’m open to any and all suggestions on how to manage it.”

  Fianna woke when Greg lifted her from the chair.

  “I can walk,” she argued on a yawn. “Elise fixed my feet and made sure the babies are fine.” Des had arrived and brought his sister and Aidan, as well. Elise had healed both Fianna and Jase more fully, and even fixed the silvered wounds Greg and George had sustained. Fianna remembered that much of the morning’s events.

  Somewhere in that time, Katy and her mother, Samantha, had been informed of Peter and Sofia’s deaths, and Derek had been brought in to discuss how to deal with their remains. Katy stayed with her children, while Marja and Samantha had gone to bed. The sun had risen and someone had brought in breakfast. After that, Fianna had fallen asleep sitting up.

  “Put me down.” She batted at Greg’s shoulder. “Where are we going, anyway?” She didn’t want to face the suite above the garage where all this mess had started.

  “Our old room. And no. I like carrying you.” He climbed the stairs with her held easily in his arms. George, Jase, Lana and Derek followed, all looking as haggard as Greg.

  “So what’s going to happen?” It wasn’t going to be easy to account for seven deaths to the police—one of the unconscious guards had succumbed to the drug. That’s what they’d been discussing when she’d dozed off.

  “It turns out a bunch of them, including two old men who should know better, went out partying after the reception. Too bad they were all driving drunk. Des and Aidan used magic to stage it, so the van looks burnt, and not much will be found but a handful of bones. Derek’s out now, calling the cops because he found the accident when he went looking for Peter who didn’t come home. They should be here to notify the families any time, but you get to stay in bed.” He laid her down on the mattress.

  “Will everyone be able to maintain the story?” Fianna bit her lip. An awful lot of people knew the truth of what happened the previous night.

  “We’re shape-shifters.” Greg ran his hands through his hair. “We’ve all been lying about ourselves to the rest of the world our whole lives. This sort of thing doesn’t happen often, but we can handle it. One of the bartenders at the nearest dive is a pack member. He’ll swear they were there until closing time. The police aren’t likely to argue too hard with Grandmother and Samantha when they agree their husbands were old fools who went out drinking with the kids. If need be, Aidan may be able to exert a little influence on their minds. Apparently he and Elise decided to stay over rather than drive home after the wedding.”

  “Okay.” The pillows were so comfortable, and she was so bloody tired. Maybe it would be okay if she slept.

  “One good thing,” Greg mused. “Aidan pointed it out. If you’d regained your powers, we’d have probably life-bonded the way Fae do, sooner or later.”

  “Probably.” Of course she wanted hundreds if not thousands of years with him. Why was losing that a good thing?

  “Can you imagine the packs’ reaction to an immortal Prime? That wouldn’t go over very well. If anything, my grandfather invited trouble by holding on too tight, too long.”

  It stung that he didn’t want to live with her in her world, but she wasn’t going to argue with him, not after all he’d been through tonight. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You were amazing tonight,” she mumbled as Greg stripped out of the sweats someone had brought him and stepped into the bathroom.

  “Yeah, right.” He shook his head. “I never wanted to be Prime. Certainly not yet. And what a hell of a wedding night I gave you.”

  There was something she wanted to say, something she meant to tell him. I love you. Before she could shape the words with her lips, though, sleep dragged her down.

  They all got through the next few days, but nobody was sure quite how, Greg least of all. Maurice stepped up and handled all the paperwork, showing Fee how it was done as he went. Though it went against tradition, Greg had named Fee as his secretary. Derek would remain one of his betas and keep control of the pack’s legal business, but Fianna had been the personal assistant to a CEO. She could handle being Greg’s right hand without breaking a sweat. George, of course, was Greg’s second and would take the place of Peter, though Greg didn’t see himself with a driver or personal bodyguard, except in the most formal of occasions. Mostly what Greg would do would be continue running the club, and act as liaison to the other packs in the area, giving all of them fair and equal access to the Prime—something Ivan had stopped bothering with years earlier.

  Funerals were arranged. The guards’ families were not informed that their mates or fathers had turned traitor, and every single member of the pack who could be reached or found was checked for the drug. Only two were addicted. One, the girlfriend of one of the guards was cured by Elise, had her memories stripped by Ric and was exiled. She’d known her boyfriend was up to no good, but Greg couldn’t bring himself to pronounce a death sentence. The other was a fourth guard, who ended up taking his own life. The police were told he felt responsible for not going with his brother who’d died in the accident, and that had been the end of that.

  Except they still didn’t know if the demon they’d killed had been Nightshade or merely a henchman. Since the attacks had stopped, though, that was a fight for another day.

  The night after the funerals, Greg watched as Fianna sat on the bed in their room and brushed out her hair. She’d taken off her black suit, but still wore a full slip and sheer black stockings. They hadn’t made love since their wedding night, though they’d slept in each other’s arms, too exhausted emotionally to do anything else.

  Tonight, his body responded to hers, and he hoped she’d understand his need to
reaffirm life in the most primal manner possible.

  Talking though—he should probably do that first, much as his smaller head disagreed.

  “I don’t want to live in this house,” he blurted, sitting down on the end of the bed in his suit pants and white shirt. Jacket, tie and shoes had already been tossed aside.

  Fianna set down her hairbrush and looked up at him. “Oh, thank the Goddess. It’s beautiful, but I don’t think it could ever feel like home.”

  “Not for us.” He’d talked to his betas today and thought they’d come up with a workable plan. “Traditionally, the Prime lives in the mansion and his betas live in the guesthouses.”

  “Right.” She eyed him warily.

  “But I think the Southern Michigan Prime needs to be more accessible to the packs. A lot of Detroit werewolves are blue collar, and this place is simply unapproachable. I want to live in Detroit. Not above the bar—I don’t think that’s best for raising kids—but in a house. Detroit’s got a bad reputation, but there are some nice neighborhoods. If we can find a house in Indian Village, or maybe Boston Edison—George and Jase will look for one close by, next door if possible. I’ll have both my secretary and my second right at hand.”

  “What about Derek?”

  “Well, you know my grandmother was talking about moving in with Samantha. The two have always been as close as mother and daughter, and they’ve both just been widowed.”

  “Right. You said they could use the third guesthouse if they wanted to stay at the compound.” Traditionally kept for guests, it could easily house two women full time.

  “Actually, they can have their pick of the three—or even the garage suite, once it’s remodeled. And I think Katy, Derek and their kids should live in the main house. They can keep it for pack use on formal occasions, like weddings and funerals, but with their kids running around, the place will be a home. Plus, they’ll have their grandmother and great-aunt right nearby. That will be good for the kids and the older ladies. We’ll keep a suite here, or one of the guesthouses, for when we need it, but it won’t be our primary home.”