Battle Cry (Loki's Wolves Book 2)

by Melissa Snark

  Jake continued talking in that philosophical tone that drove her nuts. "I understand now that I was complacent in allowing the status quo to persist for decades, even when I knew the restrictions were unnecessary. When you're as old as I am, change is difficult."

  She arched her brow. "So, you're admitting you were wrong?"

  Jake' flashed an easy smile, and he chuckled. "Never admit you're wrong—"

  "It's a sign of weakness," Victoria and Sawyer finished in unison.

  She'd forgotten Sawyer. Again. She shot the hunter a sideways glance, uncomfortable with how accustomed she'd grown to him. His presence at her side was natural. Pedestrian. Much like having Morena or Sylvia along.

  Dear goddess, help me.

  Frowning, she focused on Jake. "What's in it for you?"

  Jake answered without hesitation. "A means of ensuring our enemy can never divide us again, a path to uniting all of the packs in a peace treaty with all hunters. We're at war with these undead, and yet we're still fighting each other."

  War.

  His choice of words sent chills down her spine, but he was right. She found his logic to be sound and his argument convincing. The vampires had declared war. Hunters and wolves needed to present a united front against their adversaries.

  Guilt and doubt assailed her. Was this a test?

  The Norns' prophecy echoed from the depths of her memory. "The final days are upon us. To save your daughter, you will side with Loki against the Aesir. You will use your enchanted dagger to cut the binding of the great wolf, Fenrir. You will be responsible for freeing the beast that kills Odin."

  Her teeth sank into her lower lip until it drew a ruby drop of blood which tasted salty on her tongue. Conflicting desires and loyalties battled for dominance in her heart. As Alpha and a mother, duty dictated she act in the best interests of her pack. As a priestess, she owed fidelity to Freya. As a Valkyrie, she'd taken vows to serve Odin.

  Doubts crumbling, Victoria's suspicions and mistrust charged to the forefront of her mind as if sensing they were about to be abandoned forever. Before she committed to anything, she needed to remove all doubt. "You sound like you've thought this through."

  He tipped his head. "I have. My son has already joined your pack. This is the next logical step."

  She exhaled, taking time to consider.

  Silence fell.

  Thankfully, Jake waited for her to decide without pressuring or hurrying her decision. Sucking in a deep, slow breath, she opened herself to Freya. Goddess, what should I do? What is your will? Command me.

  The Norns whispered, predicting her inevitable betrayal. "You will be responsible for freeing the beast that kills Odin."

  No, never.

  "This is the right thing to do." Victoria reached out and accepted him into her life, her heart, and her soul. The ultimate proof of her loyalty.

  His callused palm was rough against her skin. He met her gaze, never wavering in intention or commitment, steadfast in character, insurmountable in will. The bond flowed through Victoria like molten lava, slow but unstoppable in its advance which forged new pathways through her soul. The searing intensity hurt, but she bore the pain with a stiffened back and welcomed the newest addition to the Storm Pack with an open heart. He brought strength, stability, and stamina to her little family, all traits she sought and needed in new members.

  "This isn't what I expected," Jake murmured. His surprise communicated on an empathic level, and at long last, she glimpsed past the complex layers of wards he maintained to hide his true nature. She sensed immense power, primal passion, and restless energy. But also single-minded focus, fatherly devotion, courage, and competence mixed with a whole lot of authoritarian arrogance.

  "What were you expecting?" Victoria arched her brow.

  "Not sure." Jake grinned, a slash of white teeth, completely unapologetic, but skilled enough in controlling his outward demeanor that she had no hope of discerning his real thoughts. She suspected he was more than capable of shutting her out if he desired.

  She hoped he wouldn't.

  Unexpected heat seared the skin of her upper arm, the same pleasurable-pain she associated with shape changing. Surprised, she glanced down just as the red flare faded and revealed the stylized dagger tattoo all hunters had on their arm, but hers wasn't black like Jake's or Sawyer's.

  Oh, for the love of irony. He'd marked her as a hunter.

  Her breath expelled on a huff of outrage. "Hot pink?"

  "I don't choose the color," Jake deadpanned. "You do."

  Sawyer snickered. "It's cute."

  "Such BS." Rolling her eyes, she released Jake's hand to test the new union. The bond held fast. The thread binding him to the body of the pack wobbled because the dynamic was too new to be static. Eventually, they would achieve stability, once she and Jake worked out the particulars of their relationship. The uncertainty scared her even as thrills of excitement traveled her spine. She realized too well Jake might seize the role of Alpha from her. Time would tell.

  Victoria held Jake's gaze and smiled. She spoke with the truth of a joyful heart. "Welcome to the Storm Pack."

  "Congratulations on becoming a hunter, Victoria Storm," Jake drawled. Then the most dangerous man in the world hugged her.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Fólkvangr, Freya's hall in Sessrúmnir

  "Why orchestrate the end of everything if you like it so much?"

  He rolled his eyes. "Ragnarök is what Odin wants, what he insists must and should be. It is the will of the All-Father."

  With a sigh, Freya fell silent. She knew better than to argue. Loki clung to the same stubborn insistence, attempting to shift all blame onto Odin. Instead of wasting her energy in pointless pursuits, she preferred to do whatever was necessary to ensure her survival, even if it meant cooperating with this maniac.

  "How much longer do we have?" Freya asked.

  Loki exhaled, and his gaze dropped. The normally self-important Trickster deflated before her wary gaze. He spoke, voice heavy. "This will be the last summer the world knows. Three years of winter will follow. Brothers will fight and kill each other. Blood relatives will defile kinship. It is harsh in the world, whoredom rife. An axe age, a sword age. Shields are riven. A wind age, a wolf age. Before the world goes headlong, no man will have mercy on another."

  Midgard

  His fingers lovingly caressed the curve of the Chevelle's steering wheel, and then his hand dropped to stroke the butter soft leather. The poignant ache of loss throbbed deep in his gut, in sync with the rev of the engine. He savored every stolen moment since it was likely the last time he'd ever drive her. "I'm gonna miss you, baby."

  "Would you like a moment alone?" Victoria asked with dry sarcasm. "To say goodbye?"

  Sawyer glanced at his passenger. "I thought you were asleep."

  The blonde she-wolf curled in her seat, legs tucked against her abdomen. She covered her mouth over a wide yawn. "I was."

  Her yawn triggered the reflexive response, but he fought the impulse. Exhaustion rode him. The night before, they'd driven from Sierra Pines to Arizona to rendezvous with his father. Sawyer slept in the car on the way down, but Victoria had refused to nap. He suspected she hadn't trusted him enough to let down her guard.

  He didn't ask.

  The trip to check out the abandoned gas station where Daniel died had proven to be a bust, and the experience left Sawyer unsettled. Agitation roiled at his core. Tired and irritable, they had broken off their search and agreed to retire to the Red Butte compound, rest for the night, and resume the hunt in the morning.

  Jake drove alone. Victoria and Sawyer rode together in the Chevelle.

  Near sundown, Sawyer stopped for gas at an antiquated Shell station with a line of old-fashioned canary yellow pumps out front. A modern-day Rip Van Winkle dozed behind the register, so he left a handful of bills on the counter and skipped asking for change. At the neighboring convenience store, he bought two large coffees.

  "I don't know
how you drink your coffee," Sawyer explained to Victoria as he handed her a cup along with a handful of powdered creamer and sugar packets.

  "Black." Her face skewed into a grimace. "I'm heading for the Worst Mother of the Year award," she muttered before downing the coffee.

  He chuckled and drove.

  The sun dipped below the horizon. The almost full moon came up, casting a brilliant halo in the clear sky. Near Red Butte, he got off the highway and slowed the car to accommodate for the uneven, pothole-marked roads. They passed through the decaying remains of an old mining town, a handful of battered buildings left over from a 1930's boom and bust gold rush.

  Victoria nudged his arm with her elbow. "Have you ever wondered why moonlight doesn't kill vampires? It's reflected sunlight, so it should. At least, you'd think it would."

  He opened his mouth but remained silent, thinking. Then he smiled and posed a rhetorical question. "Why do werewolves have to shift in the full moon?"

  "We don't."

  "Bad reasoning skills on the part of horror fiction writers."

  Victoria grunted and glared. "How much longer till we're there?"

  "We're here. The compound is at the top of this butte."

  Steadily gaining in elevation, they drove the next several miles in silence. Sawyer negotiated the rough terrain until they reached the dirt access road. Darkness hung over the compound northwest of the Phoenix metropolitan area. Squat, rectangular concrete buildings crouched low on the top of the mesa. The facility had solar panels and drew on well water. The underground bunker stocked emergency supplies of fresh food and water. There were no fences, so they relied on the remote location and difficult terrain to discourage unwanted guests.

  "Fences attract attention," Jake always said. "Fences make people think you've got something to hide, and they wouldn't even slow the creatures we'd want to keep out."

  Sawyer parked alongside his father's SUV. Their vehicles were the only ones on the lot. The main building sat at the top of the hill at the end of the long walkway. Releasing his seat belt, he climbed from the car and stretched his arms and back to work out the kinks. Victoria recovered her duffle bag from the back seat and lingered beside the car.

  "I'll be along in a sec." Victoria held up her cell phone. "I'm going to check in with Sylvie and let her know we arrived."

  "Okay." Sawyer left her beside the car and strode away to give her privacy.

  Approaching from the main compound, Jake walked out to meet him. A young woman unknown to Sawyer trailed behind his father.

  "Who's she?" Sawyer asked, glancing toward the stranger. Her unexpected presence unsettled him. The woman appeared to be in her late teens or early twenties. Loose, straight black hair obscured her features. She had brown skin, and the curves beneath her loose clothing hinted at a pleasing figure.

  "This is Lenna," Jake said. "Lenna, this is my son, Sawyer."

  She looked up quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. Her dulcet voice was breathy. "Hi. You're... "

  "Sawyer." He offered his hand.

  She glanced at his father who nodded. Lenna shook Sawyer's hand only after receiving tacit permission. She said, "It is an honor to meet you."

  "Pleasure to meet you too." Confounded, Sawyer dipped his chin, squinting slightly. Her starry-eyed gaze threw him. Women often flirted with him, and he did okay with the ladies, but that was about it. His last serious relationship had gone down in flames when he'd dropped school and his lover to hunt Victoria.

  Lenna giggled like a school girl and offered no other reply.

  Lifting his brow, he cast a pointed glance at his father.

  Jake's stoic facade gave away nothing.

  Sawyer's lips compressed. Fine, if that was how the old man wanted to play it. Too tired for guessing games, he opted to wait for the explanation. Stretching, he dug into the aching muscles at the juncture of his neck and shoulder with one hand. "Is anyone else here?"

  His father shook his head. "I sent everyone home and gave my crew the night off too. They have instructions to check back first thing in the morning."

  Sawyer rocked back in astonishment. He'd never seen the main compound evacuated. Protocol demanded a 24/7 year round staff, even on holidays.

  Hair rose on the back of his neck. "Everyone's gone? As in the whole facility has been evacuated? Why? Did you see something?"

  His father's mouth tugged into a grim smile, and his volume dropped precipitously. "I didn't want a situation where Victoria felt trapped, and I sure as hell don't need some hothead escalating the situation before I've had a chance to make it clear to everyone the conflict with the Storm Pack has been resolved."

  Hothead. Sawyer's lips compressed. Whether intentional or not, the implied criticism stung. He turned away to hide his reaction. At the same time, the explanation rang hollow. He didn't believe that was all there was to it.

  Not for a second.

  Jake sighed. "We're all tired. We should head inside and grab some shut-eye."

  Eager to end the conversation, Sawyer agreed. "I'm bushed."

  The distinctive flop-flop sound of Victoria's thongs striking her heels announced her approach. The she-wolf carried her bag slung over her shoulder. She cleared her throat and said, "It should go without saying. Whispering hunters make me nervous."

  Jake swung around to face Victoria. He adopted a purposeful stance, squared shoulders and wide-set legs. His powerful frame thrummed with pent-up tension.

  From his father's body language, Sawyer immediately realized something was wrong. Hairs rose on his neck, and a surge of adrenaline kicked him to alertness. His hand dipped, fingers brushing the familiar stock of his shotgun.

  Victoria's gaze slipped past Jake and riveted upon Lenna. The blonde's mouth fell open, revealing the flash of fang. Primal energy surged over her, and gold glimmered in her eyes. The skin of her forearms rippled over contracting muscles.

  A growl rumbled in Lenna's throat. Her eyes flashed, and she bristled.

  "Shit." Realization bitch-slapped Sawyer upside the head. "She's a wolf."

  "Nice grasp of the obvious." Jake's big hand gripped Sawyer's elbow, and he dragged his son to the side. "Best to stay out of their way 'til they sort this out."

  He opened his mouth to argue but then thought better of it.

  Silent, Victoria marched toward the other woman. She halted once they stood toe-to-toe, and their proximity served to contrast the marked difference in their heights. Lenna was a full foot taller and also heavier. Clearly threatened, she sank to a crouch and conveyed the clear impression of laid back ears and a tucked tail.

  The she-wolves locked gazes. A stare down ensued, the specter of violence looming greater with each passing second. Thick, oppressive tension blanketed the atmosphere. Sweat trickled down Sawyer's spine. Restless, he adjusted his stance and bit his tongue to keep quiet.

  "I'm Victoria Storm, Alpha of the Storm Pack."

  Lenna's growl stuttered and died. She whimpered. Her head and shoulders dropped, posture altering to signal submission. "I'm Lenna."

  Surprise flickered across Victoria's face. "What pack do you belong to?"

  Shame-faced, Lenna hid behind her hair. "No pack." Her hands crafted a vague gesture toward Jake. "I'm his."

  Sawyer choked. His father's elbow dug into his ribs. With a huff, he glanced over into Jake's forbidding scowl and swallowed the smart-ass remark he'd been about to make.

  From beneath a knit brow, Victoria shot Jake a puzzled frown.

  The Hunter King spread his hands. "It's a long, complicated story."

  "Isn't it always?" Victoria's voice lilted, rich with amusement. She extended her hand to Lenna. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

  While the she-wolves became acquainted, Jake pulled his son aside. "That went a hell of a lot better than I expected."

  "What did you think was gonna happen?" Sawyer demanded. Fatigue served to ramp up his irritation. Off hand, he couldn't name a worse time or place to stage a werewolf meet-and-greet.


  "Stow the attitude, Son." Jake's obsidian eyes glimmered, potent with command. "My decisions are never random or cavalier. Despite what you might think, I have my reasons."

  Anger crashed over Sawyer. Seething, he ground his teeth. Always the same old shtick. Don't ask. Don't argue. Do as you're told. His father's authoritative mandates got really fucking old, really fast. Still, the last thing he wanted was to engage in another pointless argument, so he kept his mouth shut.

  "Victoria doesn't look well." Jake's gaze flitted to the blonde.

  Sawyer followed his father's regard. "Yeah, it's the first time I've ever seen a green werewolf."

  "What are you saying about me?" Victoria asked over her shoulder.

  "I was just saying that shade of shamrock looks lovely on you." Sawyer dazzled her with the most ingratiating smile he could muster. "It brings out the blue in your eyes."

  Jake deadpanned, "It's a fetching color."

  Victoria's glare sent energy coursing across his skin. Her glare was as hot as the desert sun. She spoke in a low voice. "I'm tired and thirsty. My stomach hurts, my head feels like it's about to explode, and I need to pee. The next man that gives me grief is going to wind up with my foot so far up his ass he'll taste my shoe."

  From beneath her curtain of hair, Lenna giggled.

  "I doubt she can kick that high." Sawyer traded a glance with his father.

  Jake's mouth curled up at the corners. "That may be a tall order."

  "Maybe out of her reach." Through an act of pure will, Sawyer kept his face straight.

  "You'd be shocked by how high I can kick." Victoria glared daggers at the father and son. "Say one more word."

  Dead silence greeted her dare.

  With an audible huff, Victoria turned on her heel and marched up the hill toward the compound. The way she failed to slow down or glance back made it clear the Barrett men could follow... or not.

  Sawyer's gaze skimmed the line of her spine down her straight back and clung to her tight little backside. Her gait rocked her ass as she walked. He stared after her in longing, and then guilt sucker-punched him. Fuck. He desired her. He didn't want her to be as sexy as sin, and he sure as hell didn't want to want her.