Isaiah's Haven: Legacy, Book 2

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Isaiah's Haven: Legacy, Book 2 Page 23

by N. J. Walters


  Laughter followed them. Meredith couldn’t bring herself to care as he carried her out the door and across the compound to his brother’s home. He headed straight for the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him.

  He dropped down on the bed with her in his arms and rolled until she was beneath him. Meredith hooked her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Batting her eyelashes, she played with the hair at his nape. “Suddenly I’m not so sleepy anymore.”

  Isaiah laughed and kissed her. Soon neither of them was laughing. The shadows lengthened in the room as the afternoon waned and they loved one another.

  Later that night, Isaiah stood at the edge of the woods. He’d already shifted into his wolf form. Now he was waiting for his pack to join him. One by one they appeared, also in their lupine forms. Michael and Ben. Teague and Neema. Kevin and Hank. Still, he waited for the one who mattered most.

  Meredith.

  She emerged from the darkness, a female wolf, her coat shiny and black. He waited as she padded to his side. Ready?

  Yes.

  He loved being able to communicate like this with her, loved the sensation of belonging with someone, to someone. He hadn’t realized how lonely he’d been until Meredith had come into his life.

  Tipping back his head, he howled long and loud, announcing the presence of his pack and promising swift retribution to any who might think to threaten them.

  An answering howl rose from the woods. He recognized his brother. Soon Joshua’s voice was joined by others until every Striker brother could be heard. He might have left the Wolf Creek pack, but the bond he shared with his family was unbreakable.

  They’d be returning to Chicago in two days. The club had already been closed for far too long. Not that money was an issue. As he’d told Meredith, he had more than enough in investments to keep them all. But he understood and respected the fact that they all wanted to earn their own way. Now that he was there, the others could choose different careers if they wanted, or they could remain at Haven. Either way was fine with him. They would always be a part of the pack.

  He nudged the sleek black wolf with his muzzle, whirled around and began to run fast and hard through the woods. She followed him and the rest of the pack joined in. He matched his stride to hers, while keeping an eye on the others.

  They ran freely, romping and playing like puppies and Isaiah loved every minute of it. He was proud of his pack and of his mate.

  There was a short howl and then his brothers joined them, along with James and Alexandra. Isaiah and James took the lead. Meredith stayed close by his side. He didn’t worry about his pack. Not with his brothers here to add their protection.

  He glanced over at Meredith. She gave him a wolf grin and let go a little yip. He caught a glimpse of what was in her mind. Naked limbs entwined. Hard thrusts as he took her. He stumbled. Recovering quickly, he began to herd her back toward the compound. He was suddenly in the mood to make love to his mate.

  Happiness flowed through Meredith. She hadn’t felt this free, this alive since she was a pup. Isaiah ran beside her. Her mate. Her companion. Her lover.

  They’d spent the afternoon heating up the sheets, their naked bodies sliding over one another as they’d made love again and again. And still, she wanted him.

  She purposely planted some images in her mind and sent them to him. He stumbled and she gave a yip of laughter. Isaiah immediately began edging her toward home. And she knew what was in store when he got her there. She picked up the pace and raced him all the way back.

  Back in Chicago, Steve Macmillan swore as he tossed his cell phone down on the table. “We’ve got werewolves after us. Those mangy mutts were supposed to find and eliminate those stinking half-breeds, not come after us.”

  “You can’t trust a dog not to turn on you.” Red Coulter, an old buddy of his father’s tapped his pipe against an ashtray. “You ought to know that, boy. Your daddy taught you better than that.”

  Steve raked his fingers through his blond hair. “I know, Red. I don’t mind taking ’em out if they’re easy pickings, but I’ve got better things to do with my time than chase down some crazy purist wolves hell-bent on revenge. Mitch said that he and Bob must have misunderstood what they’d seen at that club, that there were no werewolves there, half-breed or otherwise. He thinks that what they saw was nothing more than a big fucking dog. Now I’ve got some powerful werewolves pissed off at us.” His fingers clenched into fists. If he had Mitch or Bob close to him, he’d gladly choke them for the mess they were in.

  “I’ve already wasted time and manpower I couldn’t afford to lose.” The death of several good men in the park raid, men he trusted, still angered him.

  “I know.” Red gave him an understanding nod. “I know you want that bitch that done killed your pa.”

  That was an understatement. Steve would kill her when he found her, but not before he made her pay for what she’d done. There were a lot of hunters out there who’d pay good money to fuck a she-wolf. He’d use her to fatten his wallet until there was nothing left to use. Then he’d kill her.

  “What did that new guy Quinn say?”

  Steve focused on Red. “I’d set him to watching the park. He didn’t see a damn thing. It’s been quiet at Riley’s Garage for weeks too. I think that might be a dead end.

  “The wolf pack the boys fought must have just been passing through the city. I’ve never known a wolf that could stand living in a crowd. Those bloodsucking vampires are another thing altogether.” Steve sure as hell didn’t want to fight those creatures and left them to the crazy-assed hunters who specialized in vampires.

  “Sure enough,” Red agreed. “What about those purist werewolves who are on our tail?”

  Steve picked up his rifle and loaded it with silver bullets. “I need a new winter coat.”

  Red laughed at the joke and rose from the table. “Let’s get Quinn and my boys and do us some hunting.”

  He grabbed his gear and followed Red out to the truck. He shut the door of the dingy motel room behind him, eager for the chase. Steve knew it was time to leave Chicago behind and start searching the surrounding states. He had a female to find.

  And when he did there would be hell to pay.

  He smiled as he tossed his belongings behind the seat, stowed his rifle in the gun rack and climbed into his truck.

  Quinn lay on his back, arms stacked behind his head, staring at the ceiling. The mattress sagged and several springs dug into his back. The room stank of stale cigarette smoke. The faucet in the bathroom dripped—a never-ending torture.

  He closed his eyes, shutting out the sight of water stains. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about the smell or the dripping faucet. It was simply another crappy room in an equally crappy motel.

  He didn’t have a book to read. Nor did he have his wood carving tools. Nothing to pass the time. Like the rest of his life, everything was packed away. Waiting.

  All he could do was lie here and think. Remember.

  He’d been doing this for a year and it was starting to eat at his soul.

  Was it worth it?

  His pale blue eyes snapped open and he rolled over and sat on the side of the bed. “Hell, yes,” he muttered. If it took another year or ten, he wasn’t stopping. Not until he found—

  The ringing of his phone rudely interrupted his thoughts. He glanced at the call display. He thumbed the talk button and held the phone to his ear. “Yeah?”

  “We’re moving out.” Macmillan didn’t bother to identify himself. He rarely did. “We’re heading to Kentucky.” He rattled off the meeting point and hung up.

  Quinn stared at his phone. It would be so easy just to walk away from all of this. His duffle bag contained a few changes of clothing and weapons. He had no ID, nothing that could trace him to his old life.

  He raked his hand through his shoulder-length hair and stood. “Not today.”

  He shouldered his duffle and left the room, closing the door softly behin
d him. He would find out what happened to his twin if it was the last thing he did.

  About the Author

  To learn more about N.J. Walters, please visit www.njwalters.com. Send an email to N.J. Walters at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as N.J. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/awakeningdesires

  Look for these titles by N.J. Walters

  Now Available:

  Discovering Dani

  The Way Home

  The Return of Patrick O’Rourke

  The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke

  A Legal Affair

  By the Book

  Past Promises

  Alexandra’s Legacy

  Coming Soon:

  A Touch of Magick

  The truth will set her free…or get her killed.

  Alexandra’s Legacy

  © 2009 N.J. Walters

  Alexandra Riley’s day starts out like any other in her normal, predictable world. Then a tall, dark stranger bursts into her father’s garage and shatters the illusion. In one shocking moment, she discovers why she’s been feeling hot, restless—she’s the half-breed daughter of a legendary werewolf and is a much-sought-after prize.

  Joshua Striker, enforcer in charge of protecting the alphas of the Wolf Creek pack, has come to take Alex home. Nothing more, nothing less. From the first moment he sees her, she becomes the one thing he can’t afford—a distraction from his duty. A weakness he doesn’t want—but can’t resist needing.

  If only keeping her safe was as simple as fending off males on the hunt for a mate. Through city streets to the mountains of North Carolina, Alex and Joshua have to evade those who don’t want their pure bloodlines tainted with human DNA, as well as bounty hunters who think the only good werewolf is a dead one.

  What Joshua and Alex can’t outrun is the passion that flares between them—or the choice Alex must eventually face. Whether to claim her inner wolf, or forfeit her chance to claim Joshua as her own.

  Warning: This book contains sexy werewolves, rogue werewolves, nasty bounty hunters, a mysterious vampire and plenty of hot sexual interludes that will raise your blood pressure.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Alexandra’s Legacy:

  Joshua Striker’s heart was pounding, although outwardly none of his excitement or agitation showed. He’d found her. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d managed to stay one step ahead of the two roving packs of wolves searching for her. She was a treasure and they all wanted her.

  He could barely see her now, blocked by the bulk of her father’s body. But the one glimpse he’d had of her had been more than enough to fire his blood. He could almost feel her long, slender body bucking beneath his as he thrust hard and deep. He wanted to fuck her until she was screaming with pleasure, until they were both sweaty and spent. And then he’d do it all over again.

  His cock swelled in anticipation, pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans. A fine sheen of sweat formed on his skin, making it itch. His scalp tingled, his muscles tightened. He shook his head to clear away the haze of lust enveloping him. Now was definitely not the time for this. His job was to protect her, not to claim her.

  The man in front of him issued another low growl. James LeVeau, or rather James Riley as he called himself now, had disappeared from the Wolf Creek pack of werewolves in North Carolina almost fifty years ago. At the time he’d been the alpha of the pack, the toughest and smartest one of them all. After his beloved wife, Leda, had died in childbirth, he’d simply vanished.

  There had been plenty of rumors over the years. The most intriguing one was that he’d had a child with a human, a daughter. Now they all knew the rumor was true and she was a prospective mate for many of the single male wolves.

  The past hundred years had not been kind to the werewolves and their numbers were dwindling at an alarming rate. The past three decades had been even worse. Children were far and few between, as were females of mating age.

  Personally, Joshua felt that had more to do with all the infighting between packs, but the reality remained that they needed children to expand their population. The fact that she was the daughter of one of the most powerful, most well-respected wolves in the country was a bonus. Whoever she mated with would immediately gain in status and standing.

  “I come from Wolf Creek. Ian sent me.”

  That gave the older man pause, but he didn’t back down or relax his stance. “Who are you?”

  “Striker.” James blinked, but gave no other indication of what he was thinking. Joshua admired the other man’s self-possession.

  “Last I heard Miguel was Striker of the Wolf Creek pack.”

  “He was my father.” It still hurt for Joshua to think of his father. The large man had seemed invincible to his sons, but death had claimed him all the same.

  “Was?” The very stillness of the other man assured Joshua that he was ready to spring and fight at any second.

  “It took four rogue wolves and several humans to bring him down.” He wanted to tip back his head and howl with the sorrow that was his constant companion. Instead, Joshua swallowed, refusing to show any of the emotion beating at him. “He was searching for you.”

  “You’re young Joshua.” James’ eyes narrowed as they raked over the younger man.

  “I was. Now I am Striker of the Wolf Creek pack.” Striker was more than just their name, it was his family’s duty within the pack. The head of the Striker family was in charge of pack security, of protecting the alpha pair and the pack as a whole. That duty had fallen to him and he would not fail, no matter the cost.

  “I am sorry to hear about your father. He was the best of us.” Joshua could not mistake the sincerity and the sorrow in James’ voice. “I missed him.”

  “Why did you never contact him?” The biting question was past his lips before he could restrain it. Joshua was angry with himself for letting his emotion show. It was a weakness he could not afford.

  “It was not safe. I had too much to lose.” James shook his head. “In those days they would not have accepted my child. She was not of pure blood.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Times have changed in the past few decades, have they not? Back then, they might have killed her, now they want to claim her.” His features hardened and the alpha warrior was revealed. “I will do whatever it takes to protect her.”

  “Dad?” Her low, lilting voice washed over Joshua like a physical caress, making it hard for him to breathe. “What’s this all about? Who is this guy?” He could hear the uncertainty, the question in her voice as she stepped out from behind her father.

  James reached out his hand and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her beneath the shelter of his arm. “This is part of what I needed to speak to you about.” His gaze never left Joshua’s face. “Lock the door and come upstairs. We have to talk.”

  Joshua turned away from the pair, purposely leaving his back exposed. Taking his time, he threw all six bolts on the door. When he was done, he faced them and cocked his eyebrow in question. The older man motioned to a doorway at the far end of the garage.

  He strode past them, trying not to stare at the woman. He didn’t know her name, but he knew that he wanted her. Something about her reached deep inside him, demanding that he claim her as his own. With his preternatural sense of smell, he caught a faint whiff of her scent and almost moaned. She was close to coming into heat, but not quite there yet. At the moment, it was just the faintest tantalizing perfume that made his head spin and sent lust surging through his bloodstream. Layered over that was the clean scent of woman, her own personal fragrance. It was fresh, like the mountain wildflowers after a summer’s rain.

  And he was obviously losing his mind if he was waxing poetic when there was a pissed off alpha at his back and danger surrounding them all. If he didn’t keep his mind on business, he’d never live long enough to have a chance to claim his woman.

  And she was his. She just didn’t know it yet.

  This second chance at love c
ould get them both killed.

  Cry Wolf

  © 2010 Donica Covey

  Fifteen years ago, denied the only woman he ever wanted as a mate, Remington Aldrich packed his few belongings and left home without a backward glance. Now the pack leader who ripped his world apart is on the other end of the phone, asking for his help.

  Angela Martin, Remy’s first love, is missing and the trail has gone cold. She may have refused to defy the alpha and run away with him all those years ago, but Remy can’t stop himself from coming to her rescue.

  Abducted by two men—one for his ghastly scientific experiments, and the other for his driving need for revenge against all Lycans—Angela despairs that no one will find her. Then she senses Remy nearby.

  Together again and on the run from a killer bent on hunting them down, Remy vows to never again let Angela out of his arms. But first they have to survive—and fight against history’s tendency to repeat itself…

  Warning: Hot shape shifters, mad scientists and vengeful hunters, and steamy alpha marking his mate may induce a massive adrenaline rush.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Cry Wolf:

  “Remy?”

  Remington Aldrich glared at the phone. He should’ve known better than to answer it. “Jordan McClurgh. I never thought I’d hear your voice again.”

  “It’s been a long time, Remy.”

  Fifteen years to be exact. Since the day Jordan had promised the one woman Remy loved to another man. “Not long enough.”

  “I respected your decision to leave the family, Remy. I wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important. I need you to come home.”

  “Not bloody likely.”

  “It’s Angela.”

  Just hearing her name tore fresh pain through him. He could still see the sunlight dancing in her strawberry blond hair. The way her aqua eyes sparkled with merriment. He could still smell her in the air around him. There wasn’t a night in all of the past fifteen years he didn’t dream about her. “What about her.” Why did he even care? When Jordan had declared Angela and Rich Johnson were to be joined, did she fight it? When Remy had come to her by the moonlight and pleaded with her to run away with him, did she agree to go? No. She’d let him go without a word.

 

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