Book Read Free

Battle Cry (Loki's Wolves Book 2)

Page 8

by Melissa Snark


  Morena's eyes widened. A smile curved the corners of her mouth as she rocked back on her heels, bouncing excitedly. "Really? Do you mean it?"

  "Absolutely," Victoria said.

  "Cool!" Morena flipped the empty bottle into the recycling container. "I'm going to grab a shower. I stink."

  Like a shot, the teenager departed without waiting for a response. Victoria stared after her, brow knit. "She played me for a fool."

  Sylvie chuckled and patted her shoulder. "Don't feel too bad, Victory. That girl has the devil's tongue."

  "I hope it doesn't get her into any more trouble." Victoria placed her hands on her knees, head bowed. Nausea churned her gut. Misery rode her.

  "Perhaps this meeting with Jake Barrett is an opportunity for you to begin training Morena to assume greater responsibilities," Sylvie said as if the matter were already decided. "Someday soon, she must take her place among the adult females of the pack."

  "Right—all three of us," Victoria said, bitterness coloring her voice. Where the Storm Pack once boasted many members, the war with the hunters had reduced their numbers to seven.

  "She may be premature in planning for offspring, but Morena may attract a fine male to our ranks when she chooses a mate. There will be many young men who will recognize the opportunities to be had by joining our pack."

  "Every last one vying for leadership." Victoria scowled, and her frustration mounted. In general, male werewolves outweighed females, and Victoria was smaller than the average she-wolf. The chances she could take even a mid-sized male in one-on-one combat were slim. To make matters worse, strict cultural taboos forbid pregnant females from fighting.

  A heavy sigh escaped her.

  Sylvie's footsteps approached, and the older woman pressed an ice pack wrapped in a towel to the back of Victoria's neck. The cold alleviated her nausea.

  "Thank you." Victoria looked up.

  "You're welcome." Sylvie smiled, and the women traded a commiserating glance. "I don't know what to tell you, Victory. Arik Koenig was a noble man. It's unlikely you will find another male of his power who will treat you as a partner rather than chattel. However, you must—"

  "Act in accordance with the best interests of the pack," Victoria said with a sharp stab of bitterness. Her independent spirit balked at the obvious choice—find and take another mate powerful enough to protect the pack and defend their territory.

  "I will not suggest you accept another mate. You have suffered too much already."

  "I don't think I could survive losing another lover." Victoria looked away. The last several months had been pure hell, on her heart as well as her pack. But as Alpha and expectant mother, she needed to put the past behind her and look to the future.

  "We will face external challenges. There are many other packs more powerful than our own," Sylvie said. "Our territory is rich. Desirable. It is a measure of Arik's power that he controlled so much with no other pack to help him defend it."

  "You've obviously thought this through." Her lips formed a wry smile. "Go ahead. Tell me what you're thinking."

  "The Barrett family is powerful," Sylvie said. "They are feared and respected by our kind. If the alliance could be restored, other packs might be discouraged from attempting to take what is ours. It might buy us breathing space. Time to recover."

  Despite her reservations, Victoria smiled. She had to hand it to Sylvie. Her wily friend's reasoning was sound. She sighed and swallowed her pride. "All right. I'll talk to Sawyer and have him arrange a meeting with his father, but it will be outside Sierra Pines in a neutral location."

  Sylvie's hazel eyes gleamed. "A wise precaution."

  Victoria rose to her full height and squared her shoulders, mentally gathering her strength for the coming confrontation. Her spirits took a turn for the positive.

  Extending her awareness, she drew on her mystical connection with the natural power inherent within the earth, lake, and sky. Arik's land. Hollowness echoed within her soul for the space her mate had filled too briefly. She missed his strength, his steadiness, and his stubborn willfulness. But Freya had chosen him to serve as her general, so Victoria persevered alone as the sole protector of the pack.

  "Stop worrying, Sylvie. Two months ago, we were starving and homeless. I promised I'd find a way to improve the situation, and I've delivered." She sounded strong, but her conscience reminded her that three members of her pack had died along the way—Jasper, Rand Scott, and Paul Thornton, Sylvie's mate.

  "Yes, you have." Sylvie's kind expression shone with warmth and gratitude. "Our bellies are full, and we have a safe haven here in Sierra Pines."

  "I'm going to resolve the situation with the hunters. I'll protect our members from any external threat, and if another pack tries to grab our land, then I'll stop them. I'm going to prove that an Alpha female is every bit as capable as any man."

  A smile split Sylvie's face, easing the worry lines. "I know you are, Victory. I have every confidence in you."

  "Thank you." Grim determination locked Victoria to her chosen course. The Spaniard had better be counting his remaining days on one hand. If she didn't catch him first, then she'd bet her soul Sawyer or Jake Barrett would hunt the bloodsucker to the ends of the earth.

  "Will Morena be accompanying you?"

  Victoria's lips tugged into an involuntary grin. "Yes, I'll be taking her along."

  Victoria shifted her hold on the bulky cardboard box she carried, freeing her arm. She knocked once and then waited.

  Through the closed door, she detected a soft rustle and the sound of a book closing. Then Morena's voice called out a soft, "Come in."

  She twisted the knob and pushed the door. Stepping inside the dimly lit room, she carefully navigated the piles of clothing which were strewn across the floor.

  Morena rested on her stomach atop a pile of pillows, her head close to the foot of the bed. At sixteen, the whip-thin teenager was already taller than Victoria. She had flawless, brown skin and black hair, the product of an ethnic heritage more Hispanic blood than Norse. She wore her short tresses in several ponytails bound with multi-colored bands. Gold piercings studded her earlobes and cartilage. Her appearance was foxlike, but her pedigree was one-hundred percent pure wolf.

  "Hi," Victoria said, setting the box by the door.

  "Hi, Vic, what's up?" Morena flashed a too-cute smile, but her dark eyes were wary. Sitting up, she shifted her position and scooted around to face her pack leader.

  Victoria winced. "Don't call me that," she said. "Please. It's bad enough when Logan does it."

  "Shouldn't that be past tense? Logan's gone." Morena averted her gaze and spoke in a flat tone that failed to hide her disappointment. Dark swirls of depression tinted her youthful aura.

  "He has a cell phone, Morie. You can always call him."

  "We text." The girl shifted the pillows in a further attempt to conceal the book. For the first time, Victoria noticed a tattoo of a half-moon on the inside of her wrist.

  Victoria's brow lifted. She indicated the tattoo. "Is that new?"

  "No," Morena said, an obvious lie. She fidgeted, covering, then uncovering the tattoo with her hand. A look of defiance settled on her face. "Yes."

  Victoria smiled. "I like it."

  "Really?" Morena beamed, and her pleasure perfumed her scent even as her aura brightened.

  "Yes, really."

  Victoria experienced the teenager's happiness through the pack bond, and it shocked her that such a little thing meant so much to the girl. But then, maybe it shouldn't have. Morena lost her parents in the Phoenix massacre. A couple weeks later, Jasper's death left the girl devastated. Yet, she never cried, and she never complained.

  "Whatcha reading?" Victoria darted closer, then seized the corner of the book concealed beneath the pillow.

  "Nothing!" Morena squawked and grabbed for the book but not fast enough to prevent Victoria from reading the title.

  "My Broody Vampire Lover?" Acid threatened to burn a hole through her stom
ach. She stared at Morena in disbelief.

  The teenager stuffed the book beneath the covers once again and sat up straight, shoulders squared, eyes bright with defiance. "It's just a book," Morena muttered.

  "It romanticizes vampires," Victoria said, struggling to maintain her composure and remain calm.

  "Look, I know the difference between fantasy and reality," Morena said. "I don't need a lecture."

  The pressure in Victoria's temples increased, throbbing, the beginning of a world-class headache. "Vampires aren't romantic, Morena. They're monsters. They murder people."

  "It's not like I'm dating one." The teenager fidgeted, obviously embarrassed.

  Victoria's heart ached. "That's not funny, Morie. A vampire murdered Daniel."

  Morena's eyes widened. She gasped and sprang off the bed to hug Victoria. Apology replaced the insubordination. "I'm sorry! I didn't think! I didn't mean to be a bitch."

  Victoria embraced the girl, reaching up to wrap her arms around the teenager's shoulders. "It's okay, Morena."

  "I'll get rid of the book. I'll burn it."

  "You don't have to do that," Victoria said. "Just remember, it's a fantasy, okay? Once you fight vampires, I doubt you'll ever want to pick up another vamp romance novel again."

  They separated. Morena went to sit on the bed again. Victoria remained standing.

  A gleam entered Morena's eyes, and she bounced on the mattress. "Are you taking me on my first vamp hunt?"

  "Not quite yet. You need to learn to fully control your shape shifting before we go after undead."

  "Oh." Morena's face fell. The teenager still lacked the discipline necessary to perform even a partial shift on her own. Such control required patience and practice.

  Seeing the teen so excited and then disappointed served as a sharp reminder of how the girl had been neglected for the last several months. Guilt cast a long shadow over Victoria. High time to correct the injustice.

  "What we're going to do is even more dangerous."

  Morena perked up. "Yeah? What?"

  Victoria met her gaze. "I'm going to negotiate with the hunters, and I need a wingman. Do you think you might be up for it?"

  Morena's mouth fell open. She sat upright. "No shit! You're kidding? You are kidding?"

  "Not kidding." Victoria shook her head. "I won't lie. It'll be dangerous. You might have to fight. There's a chance you could be hurt. You might have to kill someone."

  "Wow, I can't believe you're asking me." Morena gushed excitement. "Are you sure Sylvie's okay with this?"

  She huffed with exasperation, willing to play along with the girl's impression that Sylvie disapproved. "I am Alpha. At least, the last time I checked. It's my call. The question is, do you want to come with me?"

  "Yes! Absolutely!" Morena burst to her feet, bouncing with hyper energy. After a couple of enthusiastic seconds, she calmed and her expression grew earnest. "I mean, yes. I want to go with you. I promise. I won't let you down."

  "But there's one condition," Victoria said. "If I say that something smells funny, then you get the hell out of there. Run, and don't look back even if I stay. Do you understand?"

  Morena stared at her with wide, round eyes. "Yes, I do."

  "Good. Grab your coat and put on your shoes."

  Morena squeaked. "Now?"

  She nodded. "Now."

  Victoria headed for the door, intending to fetch her car keys and notify Sylvie of her plan to visit Sawyer.

  "Victory?"

  Hesitating, she glanced over her shoulder. "Yes?"

  "What's in the box?"

  "Oh, right." Victoria stooped and picked up the cardboard box which she tossed underhanded to Morena.

  The girl caught the package with both hands and examined it with open curiosity.

  "It's a new laptop. I ordered it last week. I figured you'd need one for school work."

  Morena sputtered, "You knew?"

  Victoria smirked. "Of course I knew."

  Pleased at having the last word, she exited the room before Morena recovered her wits and returned one of her sarcastic remarks.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Fólkvangr, Freya's hall in Sessrúmnir

  "I had nothing to do with your punishment, Loki."

  A chilled smile settled on his lips. "True enough. You didn't participate in my persecution, but neither did you lift a finger on my behalf."

  She drew a sharp breath. "What would you have of me? We are not friends."

  "No, but we were supposed to be allies. Or have you forgotten?" Swiftly, he stepped toward her, serpentine in movement, wolf in his eyes.

  "I have not forgotten." Heart throbbing, Freya turned her head to summon her Valkyries to her defense. This older Loki lacked the playful mischievousness she remembered from his youth. He frightened her far more than she cared to admit.

  Loki waved his hand. "Relax. I'm not angry with you. You've kept your word and honored our deal. I noticed you're still bringing my wolf children to your hall when their deaths are worthy."

  She tipped her head. "Half, as we agreed. One of the wolf shifters even serves as my new general."

  "You mean your new stallion," he said with a snide jeer.

  Midgard

  "You want how many bricks of plastic explosives?" Andy Chart asked in an incredulous drawl.

  "Ten bricks," Sawyer repeated, curbing his impatience with the veteran hunter who acted as the primary supplier of firearms and other high-grade weaponry for every hunter in the southwestern United States.

  "Fuck, Sawyer. That's a lot of firepower. Are you hunting or planning to rob Fort Knox?"

  "Can you get me the stuff, or should I call Juan Jarvis?" Sawyer asked with a hard edge as he dropped the name of Andy's fiercest competitor.

  "Don't get your panties in a wad," Andy snapped. "Sure, it'll take me a few days, but I can do it."

  "Just get it done."

  The call ended, and he set the phone on the dresser where it landed amid a clutter of coins, knives, and firearms. A shotgun cartridge rolled across the surface and dropped to the floor. Sawyer bent to retrieve it, nose wrinkling in reaction to the moldy odor from the soiled carpet.

  While not luxurious, his apartment on the MIT campus had been small and clean compared to the Fireside Inn which served as his temporary residence. The cheap motel was located off the main highway and consisted of a main lodge, a row of solitary cabins, and a pockmarked parking lot. The exclusive alpine community of Sierra Pines offered little in the way of affordable lodging. As a hunter, he shunned the more luxurious bed and breakfasts in favor of anonymity.

  He retrieved a bottle of water from the mini-fridge and twisted off the cap. Pulling on his trench coat, he grabbed a hardcover book and headed for the front porch to do some reading in the fresh morning air. As he reached for the knob, a solid rap sounded on the other side of the door. He set the bottle aside and tucked the book beneath his arm, then drew his .45. With the barrel of his gun, he eased back the curtain of the long, rectangular window to the left of the door.

  Victoria stood on the porch. She looked straight at him, a smile playing on her lips. She wore her hair drawn back from her face, so the flickering porch light cast dancing shadows on her fine features.

  Bursting with impatience, Sawyer allowed the curtain to drop. He holstered his firearm and yanked the door open. His thoughts had dwelled on the she-wolf since the night before. The wait for her answer had been a pins and needles affair.

  As he stepped onto the porch, his lungs expanded, filling with cool morning air scented with fresh pine and moisture. He occupied the last cabin on the row, surrounded by thick copses of trees, which offered privacy. Two vehicles were parked in front, his classic muscle car and a black SUV.

  Victoria stood turned toward the red Chevelle convertible. At the sound of his footsteps, she glanced back, and he caught a glimpse of immense sorrow in her blue eyes. Her mouth bowed down in an unhappy curve and her eyes were suspiciously watery.

  Approach
ing Victoria, Sawyer absently removed the book from beneath his arm. "Hey. Mind if we talk outside? The smell inside gives me a headache."

  "Sure. I know exactly what you mean." Victoria flashed a cheerful smile, apparently amused. She cast a quick glance down. Her eyebrows arched, and her hand caught his wrist, turning the cover so the title could be read. "Algebraic Geometry? Doing some light reading?"

  Her touch caused a warm flush on his skin. Pleasant. No, fuck pleasant. Fantastic. Deliberately, Sawyer removed his wrist from her grasp and stepped away to set the heavy textbook on a bistro table.

  "Just brushing up on the basics. I took a semester off to hunt you."

  Mock contriteness crossed Victoria's face. Her pretty mouth formed an O. "Gosh, I'm so sorry to have put you out like that."

  He chuckled. "You should be. I was supposed to graduate in May."

  She nodded. "You're working on your Master's degree?"

  He frowned, wary. She knew a lot more about him than he about her. As always, the reminder of his brother's duplicity gnawed at him. "Yeah, that's right."

  Sorrow crossed her face. Then she glanced away and adopted a polite smile. Her head turned toward an area off the porch. Victoria's hand rose, and she tweaked two fingers in a beckoning gesture. "Morena, come over and say hello."

  His spine stiffened as he spotted a tall figure lurking beneath a pine tree. His hand flexed, mentally wanting his gun, but he curbed the impulse to reach for it.

  Victoria stepped between him and her silent companion. "It's okay, hon. He doesn't bite."

  Sawyer chuckled. "I do too."

  She shot him a sharp glance, scowling, and a bright flash of gold glimmered in her eyes. A burst of energy, hot wind on his skin, slapped his body. His muscles tensed.

  "Not right now. Save the biting for when we're alone."

 

‹ Prev