by L. L. Raand
Now Drake must set aside her anxiety over Sylvan’s absence and wait in the safety of the Compound for her mate’s return. She must do her duty as Prima of the Timberwolf Pack. She nodded to the sentrie posted at the double doors leading to the nursery wing at the center of the Compound. The young blond-haired, blue-eyed Were snapped her fist over her heart in salute. “Prima.”
“As you were, Sima.” Drake pressed her palm to the sensor on the wall and the reinforced steel doors swung open. She strode down the hall past sleeping quarters where maternals and beta caregivers slept in rotation while assigned to the young who resided in the nursery until they were old enough to shift at will and join the older offspring in the barracks. Another door at the end of the hall was likewise guarded. The sentrie rocketed to rigid attention as she passed. Beyond the inner door, a huge earthen-floored atrium several acres square extended beneath a retractable roof that currently was open to the fading dawn. The mountains rose high above them, evergreens interspersed with fir and beech and maple, their leaves a riot of fall colors. Woodsmoke drifted in from huge fire pits in the center of the Compound yard, and the breeze carried the scent of wildlife: fox, deer, squirrel, rabbit, and other prey. The hard-packed stone and pine covered floor radiated the rich odor of fertile soil and living things. The wolf pups’ first awareness after that of their Alpha and the Pack would be of their natural habitat, the forests of the million acres of Pack land.
The nursery held six young now, with two more expected at any time. Each was precious to the Pack, and every Pack member would protect them with their lives. Roger, a beta wolf and magister, teacher and guider of the young, sat on a rocky outcropping watching Drake’s young tumble and tussle. Both were in pelt. Kira, the larger silver pup, had her jaws clamped onto Kendra’s neck, growling and tugging. Kendra, midnight black like Drake’s wolf, dug her paws in and steadily, calmly, pulled back, wisely reserving energy. Drake smiled and stopped at the far side of the clearing to watch the mini-battle. Kira was much like Sylvan already, a warrior whose power sprang from her speed, ferocity, and supreme confidence. Kendra, like her, was more studied, content to hold back and wait for just the right moment. When they scented her, they broke apart and raced toward her, yipping joyfully. The mantle of darkness lifted from her shoulders and she dropped to her knees, opened her arms, and caught them as they launched themselves against her chest. Rubbing her face against their soft fur, she inhaled their unique scents, blends of hers and Sylvan’s and their own. They licked her throat and when they would have nipped, she shook them both lightly, laughing, and set them down.
Roger drew near. “I didn’t know you were coming, Prima, but they did. They shifted moments before you arrived.” He smiled shyly. “It’s…good to see you.”
“Yes,” Drake said, rising. She slid an arm around his shoulders and drew him close. He relaxed against her body for a second, absorbing strength and comfort as all Weres did from physical contact. She leaned against the outcropping as the pups raced around her. “How are they?”
Roger drew back, his rich brown eyes smiling. He would know she meant all the young, not just hers. The young were the joy of every Pack member. They had so few, and the future depended on them.
“Everyone is doing very well. Adam shifted for the first time this morning when Callan came to visit. The two youngest have not yet, but they are growing steadily.”
“Wonderful news. When the Alpha returns, we’ll take Adam and our two out for a run.”
“Will that be soon?” Roger asked.
“I expect so.” Drake couldn’t let her anxiety show. The wolves were always unsettled when Sylvan was away, even when the Pack was not in danger. Sylvan was the strength that held hundreds of natural predators together in community, leading them, guiding them, establishing order and discipline, and allowing them to live in harmony. The longer she was away, the more uneasy everyone became. None more than Drake. Her wolf cared nothing for politics or power struggles. She only wanted her mate by her side, where she could protect her and defend her. But for the good of the Pack, she pushed her wolf down. When she’d mated the Alpha, she’d accepted the same responsibility Sylvan bore to bring harmony and unity and safety to those who depended upon them.
“I’ll leave you to these two,” Drake said after one more hug for each of her young. The familiar ache began before she’d even reached the inner doors. She trusted Roger and was grateful for the training he gave Kira and Kendra, recognizing the importance of their living in community with those they would one day lead, but every time she left the nursery, a part of her bled. This morning, though, she must be more than a mother, she must stand for Sylvan in her absence and see that all in the Pack were cared for. There were wounded in the infirmary, infected humans in the isolation room, and a detainee in the holding cells—all of whom needed her attention.
The courtyard had filled with Weres while she’d been inside: sentries in black BDUs congregated around huge open fire pits sharing food and coffee, mated pairs—many of them naked after a morning run—bounded out of the forest, and the adolescents in sentrie training exploded from the barracks in a cloud of sex hormones, pheromones, and raucous noise. Squads of Weres headed for the huge mess hall adjoining the sleeping quarters.
Callan, captain of the guard, approached and she slowed. “All quiet?”
The wiry, dark-haired Were nodded curtly. “Nothing out of the ordinary, Prima. A few reports of cat sightings along the northeast perimeter, but no engagements.”
“Good.” She wondered if the cat Weres were searching for Raina, the cat Alpha who had recently sworn an alliance with the Timberwolves and was now set on unifying the rest of the cat Weres scattered throughout Vermont. That would be no easy task. Many of them were renegades and next to feral. “Friend or foe?”
“We couldn’t tell, but none attempted to cross into Pack land.”
“They’ll need to be watched. What do you hear from the Blackpaws?”
Callan lifted a shoulder. “Some of their lieutenants have returned after the battle, under escort from our warriors.”
Callan looked uneasy.
“What is it, Captain?”
“They swore allegiance under duress when the Alpha killed Bernardo, but who is to say if their oaths are true? They left their betas and maternals without protection to feed and couple with Vampires.” His canines punched down and his eyes sparked gold. “They are cowards and not to be trusted.”
She slung an arm over his shoulders, dragged him close. “You are right. But they are wolves and your Alpha has declared them Pack.”
“I ask permission to leave a cadre of warriors in the Blackpaw camp until we are sure.”
“We’ll need to supervise the transition. When the Alpha returns, we’ll decide on the logistics. For now, make sure we have enough warriors there to maintain order.”
Callan brushed his cheek over her shoulder, some of the tension leaving his body. “As you command, Prima.”
The sun moved higher in the sky as Drake crossed the Compound to the infirmary. A pair of sentries guarded the door, and a young female pushed open the door as Drake bounded up the stairs. She passed through into the well-lit, wide corridor, drawing in the familiar scent of medicinals, compassion, and pain. Before she turned, she’d been a human physician, and the odors were familiar to her, but so much more acute now than they had been then. Not only were her senses heightened, but as the Alpha’s mate she was connected to every Pack member on a psychic and physical level. The joy and pain, need and desire, of every Pack member was in some part hers, and magnified for Sylvan. The responsibility was enormous and the reward just as great.
She stopped first at the treatment room where she detected a medic treating one of the warriors injured in the recent battle. When she entered, the shirtless male stretched out on the treatment table attempted to rise. She held up her hand.
“No, stay. How are you, Ivan?”
“Fine, Prima,” he said, despite the open wound on
his right shoulder and the gouges on his chest.
Elena, the dark-haired chief medicus, looked up from cleansing his wounds and shook her head as if she had heard that statement too many times over the last days. “He would be a lot better if he’d come in immediately instead of waiting almost a day to shift.”
“I was on guard duty,” he said as if that were all the explanation required.
“He’ll be fine after a shift, a large meal, and a day’s rest,” Elena said.
The male growled. “I will be fit for duty as soon as Elena stops fussing.”
“You will do as the medicus says,” Drake said firmly.
He ducked his head but didn’t completely stop growling.
“And next time don’t delay seeking treatment.” Drake suppressed a smile. Maintaining order over the hundreds of Weres who lived within the Compound and the surrounding mountains was a constant challenge, and now, when they were under nearly daily assault, the warriors were on constant alert and ready to fight with anyone, including each other, at the slightest provocation. “Elena, if he gives you any trouble you let me know.”
Elena’s eyes sparkled. “I will, Prima.”
Drake moved farther down the hall to the isolation ward and let herself into the large room where two frail young females occupied the only beds. Both had been removed from life support but remained in comas. Sophia, the senior medicus, checked the vital signs on the smaller of the two, a redhead with milky skin so white it appeared translucent. No one knew their names, or how they had come to be imprisoned deep within the bowels of a secret laboratory facility. All anyone knew was they had been experimented upon and were now in the throes of something resembling Were fever, a deadly viral infection that generally proved fatal to Weres. This, however, was something different—something manufactured by humans and perhaps their Praetern allies.
“How are they?”
“Not much change. Both still with fevers, although slightly lower.” Sophia pushed long strands of platinum hair away from her face. Her hands trembled.
“You need rest. You’ve been caring for the wounded and ill for two nights without sleep.”
Sophia’s eyes flashed. “The warriors are still on duty, so are you, so is the Alpha. There is still work to be done.”
“And you are essential—we have only a few with your ability in the Pack. When all the wounded have been stabilized, I want you to get some rest.”
“Yes, Prima.” Sophia sighed. “Have you heard from them?”
She meant Niki, her mate and Sylvan’s second, who had accompanied Sylvan into the city as part of her guard. “Not yet.”
“Do you think they’re out of danger? They only kept a small security force with them.”
“Sylvan could hardly be interviewed for the international media surrounded by warriors.” Drake grimaced. “And she did not want to reduce our forces here.”
“How much longer must we pretend to be other than who we are?” Sophia asked in a rare flare of temper.
“Until it is safe to be ourselves.”
Chapter Two
Becca kept an uneasy eye on the blackout shields that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows on both sides of the vaulted ballroom. Not a glint of daylight pierced the metal barriers set into the thick natural stone walls. Sconces with amber glass shades provided the illusion of warmth, but the room remained cold and, despite the elaborate wall hangings, glittering chandeliers, and opulent furnishings, soulless. She shuddered inwardly, thinking the room reflected its master. She’d never been inside Zachary Gates’s mansion before, although technically, she supposed she was his daughter-in-law. The Vampire family structure resembled what she was used to in name only. Jody rarely spoke of her sire, and seeing the two of them together, Becca couldn’t reconcile that they were father and daughter. Zachary looked only a few years older than Jody, although they shared the same midnight hair, dark eyes, and rapier-thin build. Now that Jody was Risen, her eyes, like her father’s, never lost the shards of crimson that slashed in their depths. The blaze of hunger in Jody’s gaze was impossible to ignore, but Jody’s features held a subtle softness Zachary’s lacked. That glimmer of empathy perhaps explained why Jody was capable of love, despite Jody’s warning that Risen Vampires felt nothing beyond hunger and the drive for pleasure. Becca had not been frightened off by Jody’s dire predictions. She refused to believe she could lose Jody to the insatiable lust for blood and power that seemed to rule all the Risen. She would never let Jody forget she was loved, or the pleasure of loving.
Becca was never more aware of being among predators than she was at that moment, surrounded by Vampires, their consorts, and human servants, although she recognized the mayor, the lieutenant governor, and quite a number of business moguls who were human like her. Regardless of species, most were present to garner favor with the new Viceregal in the obscure world of Vampire politics or the equally murky universe of human power struggles. Unlike many of the ruling Vampires who, at least if rumor was to be believed, made their fortunes through nightclubs and casinos and less savory, illegal enterprises like prostitution, protection, and drugs, Zachary had made his fortune through legitimate military and government contracts. Most human politicians and business tycoons paid lip service to supporting Praetern freedoms out of fear that the Vampires might pull their funds from critical projects. But she doubted the pretense would last very long once Praeterns began to openly exert their true economic power.
“The Liege is now next in line to be Viceregal,” a cool voice murmured.
Becca regarded Zahn Logan, the head of Jody’s security forces and a human servant whose lineage stretched back as far as Jody’s. Blond, blue-eyed, and dangerous looking in black shirt, pants, and calf-high leather boots, she carried an automatic pistol in a shiny black leather holster against her slim torso. “I didn’t know the position was inherited.”
Zahn’s graceful lips thinned. “If Viceregal Gates steps aside, his heir would assume the mantle unless she was…deposed…by other Vampire factions.”
Deposed. Meaning killed. “I suspect that Zachary will rule for a very long time.”
“The naming of a new Viceregal always leads to instability.” Zahn’s glacial gaze flickered from Zachary to Jody, her cool elegant features registering the faintest hint of disdain. “Decades of revolt, assassinations, and power struggles followed Francesca’s ascension. The new Viceregal may not be viewed as a friend by all, especially if he accepts the yoke of human rule.”
Becca’s heart sped up. The last thing she wanted was to see Jody caught in the middle of a civil uprising, and she wasn’t at all sure she wanted Jody to assume the mantle of the most powerful position in the Western Hemisphere when that would make her more of a target than she already was. “I’m sure Viceregal Gates has ample protection and will not be outwitted by his enemies.”
“Perhaps,” Zahn said mildly, tracking Jody as she moved through the crowd.
“Don’t those windows make you nervous?” Becca asked. However much Zahn resented Jody taking a human consort, Becca didn’t doubt Zahn’s devotion to Jody. She thought Zahn might be secretly in love with Jody, but she was new to the Vampire world and could be misinterpreting loyalty for something else. No matter what tensions lay between them, she wanted to learn as much as she could about Jody’s world and how to keep her safe. If she had to live with Zahn Logan’s superior attitude, she would.
“Nothing makes me nervous.” Zahn paused. “But I don’t think it wise for the Liege to be above ground after dawn and have advised her of such.”
Becca’s chest tightened as she considered the kind of target a roomful of some of the most powerful Vampires in the world would make. “And what if the electrical system fails and those occlusive shields open?”
“I’m sure the Viceregal has backup generators, but if the worst were to happen, every one of Liege Gates’s personal guard knows what to do. She would be exposed for a few seconds at most.”
“And her guard?”
“Some would burn.”
“I think it’s time we went home.”
“Don’t let anyone know you fear for her. It weakens her position, and having a vulnerable consort weakens her enough already.”
“You’re human too,” Becca pointed out.
“I am more than human.” Zahn turned on her heel and slipped away into the crowd, her speed and elegance nearly equal to that of a Vampire. Jody had said that certain familial lines of humans were evolutionarily attuned to their Vampire hosts and, through centuries of sharing blood, were not only exceedingly long-lived, but had acquired other Praetern characteristics.
Becca wasn’t particularly fond of Zahn, but she didn’t need to be. She was glad someone so skilled and ruthless was in charge of Jody’s security. All the same, she’d had enough of Vampires for one morning. She threaded her way through the crowd and slipped her arm through Jody’s.
“Have you done your duty yet?” she murmured, skimming her mouth over Jody’s neck as she leaned close.
Jody’s eyes glinted. “It’s been a long night and the sun has been up for more than an hour. I hunger.”
Becca gasped. Jody’s need flamed through her like wildfire. “Then let’s go.”
“I must take my leave of the Viceregal.”
“I’ll go with you.”
Together they slipped through the crowd and found Zachary talking with a small group of human politicians. When he saw them coming, he broke away and walked to meet them.
“Becca,” he said in a tone so intimate her skin heated.
She tightened her hold on Jody’s arm and kept her gaze fixed on Zachary’s. “Congratulations.”
Zachary smiled, his face unspeakably beautiful and unbearably cold. “I understand I have Liege Gates and some of her…allies to thank for this unexpected honor.”
