Wolf Lover: Konochur (New Scotia Pack Book 2)

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Wolf Lover: Konochur (New Scotia Pack Book 2) Page 4

by Victoria Danann


  “Here’s your warning, miscreants. Get yourselves sober and leave this dimension now, while you can. If you do, you’ll live to trash another world. If you don’t, you’re going to find that you’re responsible for destroying the very thing that attracted you to this world. Your choice. And let me make it easy because you don’t seem that bright. Leave and live. Or stay and die.”

  Just as the strongest of the dragons was beginning to pull himself up, Deliverance vanished. He didn’t think his speech would have any effect on the future course of the dragons, but he could feel good about trying.

  Within minutes the demon was in Loti Dimension standing at the foot of a bed where Stalkson Grey’s son, Windwalker, and his mate, Cloud, were making love. When he cleared his throat, Cloud shrieked, jerking the sheet up to cover herself while Win took Deliverance to the floor with a roar and a mid-air tackle. There was no macho satisfaction in it because the demon seemed to enjoy it. Win could tell by the laughing.

  “For all that’s holy, Deliverance, don’t you have any understanding of propriety?” Win said as he shoved his legs into his jeans.

  Deliverance shrugged, and ran his eyes over Cloud, who was scowling and grasping the covers under her chin. “Not really. I have news though. You want it or not?”

  Win simply made a motion toward the door while he continued to scowl.

  The demon followed Windwalker into the living room and watched the werewolf pour himself a drink. Begrudgingly, he offered the bottle to Deliverance. “It may be months before my dick unshrivels. And longer than that before Cloud feels like fucking again,” he said miserably.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be so shy.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you’re infuriating?”

  Deliverance grinned. “Frequently. I can think of worse things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like not being noticed.”

  Windwalker sat on a leather ottoman by the hearth and stoked the embers into flame. “Okay. I’m awake now with blue balls. What’s the news?”

  “Your pop’s got a dragon problem.” Win made a circular motion with his hand to indicate that he wanted to hear more and to cut out the dramatic pauses. “You know they have a no-tech, no-gunpowder policy on Lunark. Well the dragon shifters moved in, without permission, took up residence in the mountains and proceeded to terrorize the place.

  “They’ve left your dad and his bros no choice but to revise policy.” Deliverance sat and leaned closer. “The Council sent a delegation to invite the dragons to a meet. They called werewolves food.” Windwalker recoiled at that just as the members of the delegation had. “The next day the dragons killed three hunters for no reason. Just to make a show of power. Or maybe for fun. I don’t know.

  “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that, with the dragon thing going on, he’ll understand if you want to postpone plans to join them.”

  Win sat in silence for a few minutes. He took a drink of Scotch and stared at the fire. “I think that, when this contingent of Elk Mountain hears that the others are in trouble, they’ll want to go sooner.”

  Deliverance smiled. “Your dad said, just in case you leaned that way, to tell you to have every single person carry something that can be used to blast the fuckers out of the sky. Or something like that.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “He wants us to ask Black Swan for arms.”

  “Like what? Heat-seeking missiles.”

  “Well, sort of. I think heat-seeking missiles would work if you were trying to kill the dragons in human form, but if you were doing that you could just snap their necks with your jaws. If you want to kill dragons, heat-seeking won’t work. They’re cold blooded. Reptiles. You know?”

  Win nodded. “I’m not stupid.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “Anybody could have made that mistake.”

  “Sure. None of us are arms experts.”

  “Right. Who is?”

  “Storm.”

  “I know him. He came here once.”

  “Yeah, I know him, too. He’s my son-in-law.”

  “No shit? Well, call him up. Let’s get this show on the road.”

  Deliverance was a little surprised by Win’s enthusiasm. “You sure you understand what I’m saying here? There’s going to be ugliness. Three werewolves have already died.”

  “I get it, demon. Let’s be quick before more are added to that number.”

  “Well, seems like your dick has unshriveled.”

  “Funny. You gonna call Storm or do you want me to?”

  “Let’s just go pay a visit. You want a shirt and footwear. Personally I’m not much of a fan, but I don’t get cold as easily as humans.”

  “I’m not human.”

  “No offense. You know what I meant.”

  “No. I do not know what you meant.”

  “Do. You. Want. To. Go. Visit. My. Daughter’s. Home. Like. That?”

  Win glared at Deliverance for a few seconds, stomped toward the bedroom, and reemerged a couple of minutes later in a flannel lined denim shirt with boots on his feet.

  Storm and Litha had moved back into the vineyard and were enjoying a quiet Bailey’s by the fire when they heard a commotion in the kitchen.

  Storm rolled his eyes.

  Litha took a sip of Bailey’s, then said, “It could be a burglar.”

  “Helloooooo,” Deliverance called.

  Litha looked at Storm. “Well, at least he’s become semi-housebroken.” She aimed her voice toward the kitchen. “IN HERE!!”

  “You mean because he lands in the kitchen?” Storm snorted. “That’s a far cry from even semi-housebroken.”

  It took less than ten minutes for Storm to explain that he was a small weapons expert and that the sort of firepower the residents of Lunark Dimension needed was a completely different proposition. He suggested that Windwalker appeal to the Jefferson Unit Director of Research and Development, Thelonius M. Monq, and said he would call ahead, even though it would be just after midnight in New Jersey where Dr. Monq was permanently assigned.

  Monq took the call from Storm, then shuffled into his office to meet with Windwalker.

  He hadn’t combed his hair, which made him look even more eccentric than usual. Yawning, he said, “If you’d care for coffee, I’ll get one of the aides up and have him fetch.”

  “No, please don’t,” said Win. “This won’t take long.”

  For the second time in a night, Windwalker Grey and the demon, Deliverance, explained what had happened on Lunark and why their appeal for large weapons was urgent.

  “If I’m understanding the situation correctly,” Win glanced at Deliverance, “people can’t step farther than a few feet away from shelter during the daytime. Children can’t play. Herdsmen can’t properly care for their stock. No one can hunt or travel except at night.” Win shuffled a little, huffed out a sigh, and said. “Cowering behind closed doors is not a natural state for werewolves. It doesn’t sit right.”

  “No. I don’t suppose it would. You’re used to being at the top of the food chain. That aside, assuming that The Order agrees to supply your requisition, which mind you will be extremely expensive, I can make a list that should suit your needs.” Monq directed his attention to the demon. “Would you be able to transport a few experts to conduct training? And bring them back, of course?”

  Deliverance looked put out and flapped his hands to demonstrate that point, but agreed.

  Monq looked at his watch. “In another hour, I can have a chat with headquarters in Edinburgh. Come back in, oh, say, five hours and I’ll have some answers for you.”

  While Simon Tvelgar, Director of Black Swan Headquarters in Edinburgh, was personally sympathetic with the werewolves, he didn’t think he could make a decision to exterminate a nest of dragon shifters on his sole authority.

  “Are these the last of the dragons?”

  “I didn’t ask,” replied Monq.

  “Well, no matter how abomin
able their behavior or abhorrent they are as a species, we can’t really be responsible for causing their total extinction. We would have to find a way to contain them. Perhaps lock them into a dimension from which they couldn’t pass.”

  “Is that possible?”

  “Frankly, I’m not sure. It was just a thought. Brainstorming, you know.”

  “So what do you intend to do?”

  “Contact the Council for an up or down vote. Then we’ll have to abide by whatever that is.”

  “Risky. The vote could be no.”

  There was a pause while Simon considered that. “If it is, then we’ll have to relocate the werewolves to another world suitable for their needs.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Something else you wanted to say?”

  “I’ve been told that the werewolves have put a lot of time and energy into colonizing Lunark. They like it there and it’s their home. Just on principle, it doesn’t seem right that they should be the ones to have to move. That’s the first consideration. The second is that, I’m not sure running from one world to another is any sort of solution. We could be right back here six months from now.”

  “I’ll make a point of introducing your arguments to the discussion.”

  “Do what you can.”

  “Understood.”

  CHAPTER 6

  As the weeks went by, Konochur knocked on Lessie’s door on more days than not. They fell into a relaxed, easy companionship that gave Lessie a measure of comfort. She thought about Jimmy, of course, and missed him terribly when she was alone at night in the bed they had shared. She’d left her girlhood home with him and had never thought about being on her own in the world. Why would she? She’d believed she was destined to grow old and die with a handsome young werewolf who would outlive her by centuries.

  When Conn, Lestriv, and Lily neared the chicken coop, the hens set up an almost deafening cacophony of squawked greetings. Lessie turned toward Conn and said, “Seems you make a favorable impression on the girls wherever you go.”

  Conn gave her his most charming, most roguish, lopsided grin. “’Tis no’ the chickens I’m aimin’ to please. In case ye have no’ figured that out by now.”

  Lestriv’s face flushed with color, signaling that she took his meaning well enough and that she secretly admired that grin of his more than she should. Conn’s way of making ordinary chores fun had penetrated her grief and brought laughter bubbling to the surface again and again. Each one of those momentary bursts of joy was followed by a pang of guilt, but it seemed she was a helpless victim of Konochur’s antics.

  Lily and Lessie laughed while the chickens backed up to Conn indicating their requests for the thrill of a few seconds of flight. They pecked at each other for a better place in line.

  “Come now, ladies,” Conn said. “A few seconds of joy awaits all of ye.”

  Afterward, as Conn watched Lessie feed the chickens, he asked, “What are ye thinkin’?”

  She stopped momentarily, smiled at him, then resumed scattering feed. “That chickens dream about being eagles.”

  Conn gave her a hearty laugh. “Aye. Seems so.” When his grin resolved to a teasing smile, he asked, “And what is it ye are dreamin’ about, bonny lass?”

  A frown creased her brow as she shook her head vigorously. “I have no right to be dreaming about anything, Conn. Not now.”

  She glanced at Konochur, who looked both serious and concerned. “’Tis no’ true, Lessie. Yer mate would no’ expect ye to entomb yerself in the past. Ye mated for a lifetime, but his lifetime is over. I know ye loved him. I know ye miss him. But ye have a long life ahead.” He pointed toward Lily. “And much to live for.”

  While Lestriv had stopped dead still and was staring at the ground, Conn was kicking himself for going down that path in the middle of a chicken coop. Stalkson Grey had taken him aside and warned him that a successful courtship with a human would entail considerably more finesse than that required by werewolves. He thought he’d been prepared to go slow and be patient, but sometimes he felt like he would burst if he couldn’t be honest about his intentions. He’d been relaxed and comfortable, let his guard down, and before he knew what was happening his unguarded feelings had tumbled out of his mouth.

  He took a deep breath, exhaled a long sigh and said, “Lessie, forgive me. I know I do no’ have the right to offer an opinion, but every creature has the right to dream.” He chuckled. “Even chickens. Yer mate would no’ wish to take that from ye. I know because I’m the same as he.” Lestriv looked at him sharply. “I mean, I’m the same species,” he added quietly.

  She quickly looked down and up again. “We’re finished here. Lily and I need to deliver these eggs and start supper.”

  Conn knew by the curt staccato of her speech that she was put off. He knew he would have to seek out his uncle’s advice as to how to mend the error.

  “I’ll walk ye.”

  “There’s no need, Conn. I have a few stops, but I can see the house from here.”

  When she picked up her basket and straightened, he put a hand on her forearm and locked her gaze to his. “I will walk ye, Lestriv.” With that he took the basket of eggs from her in a gesture as courtly as any she could imagine.

  By the slow deliberate way he insisted, Lessie knew there would be no point in arguing. She was very aware that there is nothing in creation so stubborn as a werewolf whose mind is made up. So she simply took Lily’s hand and started home. She kept her silence until she reached her porch, then turned and said goodbye without making eye contact.

  Conn left Lessie and Lily at their door and headed straight for Grey’s lodge. Since becoming Lestriv’s self-appointed helper, he had practically become a resident of New Elk Mountain and, specifically, a fixture at Grey’s. Luna was fairly good-natured about it and the little girls loved having him around. Luna had made some huffy remark about even babies being attracted to Conn, but once she realized he was serious about Lessie, she supported his efforts at courtship.

  Grey cautioned Conn about rushing and advised more patience.

  “Humans are used to long periods of mourning the dead.”

  “Why?” Conn asked as Luna passed through the room.

  “Sometimes we feel guilty about surviving. Sometimes we just miss the departed terribly and have a hard time letting go.”

  After Luna had passed out of earshot, Conn said, “Maybe she just does no’ like me.” The glum look that had taken the place of his typical cocky smirk looked out of place on his handsome face.

  Grey barked out a laugh. “My wife tells me that all the unmated females line up for a turn with you. I’m sure Lestriv likes you. Give her time. If I lost Luna, I…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but his eyes glazed over as he trailed off, imagining what that might be like.

  After a few moments, Conn said, “Aye, Uncle. Ye’re sayin’ there’s no’ room for me in her heart because ‘tis filled with a dead wolf.”

  Grey focused on Conn and blinked. “Remind me never to send you on a diplomatic mission.”

  “Aye, but, how long will it be before she’ll be ready to look my way?”

  Grey shook his head. “There’s no way to know that. Females are all different.”

  “I had no’ noticed that so much. I mean some have rose-colored nipples and some are pink…”

  Grey cut him off with a soft laugh and another shake of his head. “Sounds like you haven’t spent much time getting to know them?”

  “Getting to know them?” Conn repeated the question as if it was an alien concept. Grey simply walked away chuckling. “’Tis cruel of ye to find amusement in my misfortune,” Conn called after him.

  By the time Conn had finished having supper with his uncle’s family, it was dark. He bid his goodbyes and took his time trotting home to New Scotia.

  When Conn didn’t show up at Lessie’s door the next day, she began to regret having been abrupt. When he didn’t come the day after that, she began examining her feelings. If she was hon
est with herself, she had to admit that she liked Conn and liked having him around. But that admission wasn’t freeing. It was confusing. She was ashamed that she was responding to the attentions of another werewolf, when her own had only been gone a few weeks.

  In her heart she pondered Conn’s words regarding what Jimmy would have wanted for her. She had to agree that her mate would have wanted her to be happy, whether that chance came along sooner or later. She’d loved her mate with all her heart and part of her would always belong to him. But, she asked herself, would it be possible to love again so soon?

  Jimmy hadn’t just been her first love. He’d been her first everything. She’d also learned firsthand that werewolves sometimes looked at things differently. She had adjusted to the idiosyncrasies of life in wolf culture just as he had, no doubt, made compromises for her. Perhaps werewolves did mourn and move on. Perhaps she could gain some insight by talking to Luna.

  She hurried through her chores and walked to the clinic with Lily after lunch. It was a relief to see that there weren’t a lot of patients waiting. Just Saraf and her little boy.

  “Hello, Saraf.”

  “Lessie.” She smiled. “Is everything alright with the baby?”

  Thinking that her mother’s friend was talking about her, Lily said, “I’m fine. And I’m not a baby.”

  Saraf exchanged a smile with Lessie. “Of course you’re not a baby, Lily. My mistake.”

  Lessie’s eyes wandered to the little boy sitting on the wood bench next to Saraf. “How are you, River? You’re getting to be a big boy.”

  River didn’t speak, but not because he couldn’t. Keen intelligence shone brightly from his dark eyes. He simply chose to nod his agreement that he was, indeed, big for a four-year-old.

 

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