Shadow Hunt

by L. L. Raand

  “Fuck you.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Not ever.” Tamara’s eyes brimmed with fury.

  Gray panted through the pain. The gouges in her side throbbed and bled, but the pounding in her loins was worse. The chase, the capture, the fight left her wolf wild. Her clitoris throbbed against the hot slick surface of Tamara’s tight belly. Gray leaned down and raked her canines down Tamara’s throat. Tamara had fought well, and her wolf had not submitted. Not yet. “You lost. Submit.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Gray rocked her pelvis on Tamara’s belly, coating her with her scent, letting her feel her power. Soon she would coat her with victus. Tamara whined and thrashed and Gray squeezed her thighs tighter to stay mounted. “I smell your need.”

  “I will never submit.”

  Laughing, enjoying the challenge, Gray licked her neck. “Why not? You lost.”

  “Then kill me.” Tamara’s eyes were as empty as her voice. She surrendered, but she did not submit.

  Stunned, Gray loosened her hold and sat back, breaking the ecstatic contact between her engorged sex and Tamara’s belly. “Why do you fight it?”

  “Why did you let me run?”

  “Because I wanted to see what kind of warrior you were. How fast you could run, how well you could fight.” Gray shook her head, snarled softly. “You let me take your flank. You didn’t know I was there, did you?”

  Tamara said nothing.

  “What if I hadn’t been alone? What if I had been part of a raiding party? We would’ve torn you apart.”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  Gray didn’t want to hurt her. She’d been bested herself by older, stronger wolves dozens of times. Had given her belly and offered her body, been mounted and ridden and had spent in submission. Until she couldn’t be beaten, couldn’t be taken down, couldn’t be submitted. And then she’d been captured and she’d been worse than submitted. She’d learned to crave the humiliation. She would never do that to another wolf. “How did they train you, if you could lose your head alone in the forest like this?”

  Tamara’s eyes glazed for a moment, as if she were still running. “I’ve never been chained for so long. My wolf only knew the taste of freedom.”

  “What do you mean, chained?”

  “Sometimes when we were disciplined, we would be shut away.”

  “Who did this?” Gray’s wolf raised her hackles and snarled.

  “The lieutenants.”

  “Which lieutenants?”

  Tamara shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. You let me run so you could dominate me.”

  “No. I let you run so we could fight.”

  Tamara frowned. “Why?”

  “We fight to teach, to learn”—Gray grinned—“and tangle. It’s not a punishment.”

  “I still won’t submit.”

  “You want to tangle.” Gray skimmed her fingertips down the center of Tamara’s torso and held up her dripping hand. “Look at you. You’re covered in sex-sheen.”

  Tamara thrashed, her clitoris on the edge of bursting. Gray was right. She wanted to tangle. In one breath she wanted to claim, and the next she wanted to be claimed. Gray would sense her need and she would know. “Please. Don’t.”

  “If you go back to camp like this, Mira will take you. You know that.”

  “Then help me. Please,” Tamara gasped, hating herself for saying the words.

  “If I try,” Gray said, need like a stranglehold in her throat, “I can’t promise what I’ll do.”

  “I don’t care. Just…do what you want.”

  Gray pushed a hand between them and separated Tamara’s thighs. She forced her hips into the space between Tamara’s legs and groaned when her clitoris pressed into Tamara’s. She gripped Tamara’s upper arms and arched her back, working her clitoris in short hard thrusts over Tamara’s. She should have been able to ride her until they both released, but her sex clenched and pain shot down her thighs. She couldn’t change what she needed, and she needed more. “Bite me.”

  Tamara jerked. “What?”

  “Bite me.”

  Tamara slid her hand behind Gray’s neck, gripped a handful of hair, and jerked her head to the side. The pressure between her thighs drove thought from her mind. Need was all she knew. She buried her canines in Gray’s shoulder and felt the hot gush of Gray’s release flood her sex. Her hips jerked in response and she thrust until the pressure on the glands deep within her forced an explosion. She released without submitting, without dominating, without connection. She gasped, the pain in her belly finally easing. She panted, dazed and spent, until she realized she was stroking Gray’s back. Gray lay heavily upon her, gasping as if she had been the one who had submitted.

  “What just happened?” Tamara said.

  “Nothing.” Gray pushed up, her arms trembling. Her belly heaved, gleaming with their shared essences. “Agreed?”

  Tamara licked the sweat from Gray’s throat. Her wolf rumbled, pleased, when Gray shuddered. Secrets were another form of power. “Agreed.”

  *

  Niki and Sylvan sprinted shoulder to shoulder along the river, Alpha and imperator, Pack leaders, unbridled, unstoppable. Niki breathed deep of the power flowing from Sylvan with every leap, fortified by her presence. Dasha and Daniel, a newly minted lieutenant, followed a hundred yards behind them, ready to alert them of any danger from their rear. Nocturne by night was as dark as all the other abandoned buildings along the waterfront and would have appeared as deserted if not for the hundreds of vehicles surrounding it.

  Sylvan nudged Niki’s shoulder. Over there. The Rover.

  They changed direction and skirted the lot to where the Rover was partially hidden from view beneath a cluster of pines. As they drew near they shed pelt. The doors opened and Jace and Jonathan jumped out.

  “Alpha,” Jace cried, saluting briskly. Relief flooded her face. “We—”

  “Where is the Prima?” Sylvan’s snarl was a whiplash in the cold dark.

  Jace flinched and Jonathan whined plaintively.

  “She has not returned, Alpha.” Jace’s voice quavered.

  “From where? Why aren’t you with her?”

  Sylvan growled and her warrior form emerged. She grew taller, heavier, fiercer as bones and muscles reshaped and claws and canines jutted forth. Her rage struck like cannon blasts, and Niki jerked. Dasha and Daniel crouched by her side, shivering. Jace and Jonathan verged on shifting, ready to submit before the Alpha’s fury. In another second Sylvan would lose control.

  Niki crowded next to Sylvan, careful not to get in front of her. “Jace, tell us what happened? Quickly now.”

  “The Prima ordered us to wait outside.” Jace blurted out the events of earlier.

  “How long has she been gone?” Sylvan’s growl punctuated every word with menace.

  “All afternoon.”

  “Dasha,” Niki said quickly, “get clothes from the Rover.” She turned to Sylvan, partially shielding Jace and Jonathan. Sylvan had never hurt a Pack member unjustly, but her mate was in danger and she’d been battle ready for days. “They were following orders, Alpha. Her trail will be clear.”

  Sylvan shuddered, her warrior form slowly receding. “We can save time if Michel knows where she was going.” She gripped Jace and Jonathan by the backs of their necks and dragged them close. “You should have contacted me when she was gone this long.”

  The twins shivered in her grasp.

  “The Prima is strong, but these are uncertain times. Next time, you will know.”

  “Yes, Alpha,” the twins replied.

  “Stay here. Guard the Rover.” Sylvan turned to Niki. “Let’s see the Vampire.”

  Niki motioned to Dasha and Daniel to escort them. Daniel, dark skinned, dark eyed, and muscles bulging beneath his tight black T-shirt, had never been to Nocturne. Niki dropped back next to him. “The Vampire guards will be dressed in black, and they won’t be feeding. They may or may not be our friends, so watch them when they are any
where near the Alpha. The other Vampires will be hunting—and they like the taste of Weres.”

  “I’ll be fine, Imperator,” Daniel said in a deep baritone. “I prefer Weres in bed and everywhere else.”

  Niki smiled grimly. She’d felt the same once. “All the same, be on guard.”

  He saluted. “Yes, Imperator.”

  Niki caught up to Sylvan at the door to the club. Although it was only an hour after sundown, already the club was filled with Vampires and Weres and humans, many already in the throes of hosting and feeding. The sex and blood pheromones sizzled on her skin. Vampires and Weres and humans parted for Sylvan, even those who did not know her. Her power cleared their way, broadcasting a sense of danger and warning that triggered their primal defenses to run from an apex predator.

  On the way toward the bar at the back, Niki stepped over a male Were sprawled on his back against a sofa while two female Vampires fed from his neck and groin, one slowly stroking his erection as he released in steady spurts over his chest and belly. She didn’t recognize him, but he smelled like Blackpaw. She growled, her dominance failing to penetrate his dazed mind. He grinned up at her, his canines bared, and met her gaze with an arrogant smirk. She leaned down. “Look me in the eyes any longer, you pathetic whelp, and I’ll tear out what’s left of your throat.”

  He whined and looked away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t recognize you.”

  “Leave him,” Sylvan said. “He’s within his rights to host and not worth our time.”

  Niki snarled and turned away. She might’ve been him. Had been him, desperate for the release and oblivion the Vampire’s bite could give her. Her shame was not his fault. She straightened her shoulders. “Yes, Alpha.”

  A male Vampire guard stepped forward and bowed. “Alpha Mir, we weren’t expecting you. How may we help?”

  “I wish to see your liege.”

  “One moment.” The handsome male, indistinguishable from so many of the other ethereally elegant guards, gestured toward a room to one side of the bar. “If you would like a private moment with one of the blood servants, we can provide you entertainment while you wait.”

  Sylvan snarled. “No.”

  The guard glanced at Niki with a raised eyebrow.

  “You heard the Alpha.” Niki recognized him. He’d fed from her on one of her trips to Nocturne. She couldn’t remember anything other than the exquisite pleasure. He nodded and turned away.

  “You have nothing to regret,” Sylvan said.

  “It’s all right,” Niki said. “The memory makes me stronger.”

  “Good.” Sylvan paced. “I was wrong to let her go alone.”

  “She is capable, Alpha.”

  Sylvan rumbled dangerously. “I—”

  Michel materialized from out of the shadows. “Alpha. If you follow me, we can talk where it’s less…chaotic.”

  She gestured to a hallway behind the bar and led them downstairs to what had once been Francesca’s lair. Francesca’s sitting room remained the same, although many of the elegant trappings had been removed. Sleek leather sofas had replaced the brocade divans. The antique furniture remained and a coffee service sat upon the sideboard. A door at the far end of the room opened and Katya emerged from the adjoining boudoir, naked except for a tight pair of black leather pants open at the waist. Her skin shimmered with slowly receding dusty pelt. The scent of Weres—more than one—emanated from the room beyond. Her eyes widened, and she lowered her head. “Alpha, Imperator.”

  Sylvan nodded, her focus on Michel. “Drake was here.”

  “Yes.” Michel lifted an arm and Katya went to her side. She caressed Michel’s stomach through her tight silk shirt and slipped her hand inside the waistband of her black pants. Michel stroked her bare arm. “This morning. Looking for the Fae.”

  “Did you tell her where to go?”

  “No, but I suggested the river would be my guess for locating the Faerie Gate.”

  “Specific location?”

  Michel shook her head. “The servants who tracked her are either dead or defected with Francesca.”

  Sylvan grimaced. “Thank you.” She paused. “If Katya conceives, she should be at the Compound.”

  Michel’s eyes flamed. “I can protect her here.”

  “Perhaps. But she is still my wolf.”

  Michel cradled Katya’s jaw and lifted her head, displaying the fading bite marks along the column of her throat. “She is mine by her choice.”

  Niki took a step forward. “What choice did you give her?”

  Katya growled. “You forget yourself. She is my mate.”

  Sylvan clamped a hand on Niki’s neck. “Enough.” She sighed. “What of Francesca?”

  Michel hissed. “We have no word, but a new power is recruiting forces.”

  “A new power?”

  Michel’s smile thinned and her incisors glinted. “Francesca is raising an army of Vampires.”

  “And Weres?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “What happens if she is found?”

  “She will be forced to submit to Zachary Gates’s rule or fight a challenge.”

  “She has information we need,” Sylvan said. “And so do you.”

  Michel continued to stroke Katya’s arm. “I am at your service.”

  “Tell me who requested your presence in that laboratory the night we set Katya free.”

  “Veronica Standish.”

  Chapter Eight

  Veronica woke to a terrible thirst. She threw off the rumpled, sweat-soaked sheet, unable to stand even that light touch against her burning skin. Her stomach cramped and she swallowed hard against the urge to vomit. Her head pounded, and when she tried to focus on the clock across the room, the red digits blurred and all she could see was blood. Her blood, painting Luce’s lips, adorning Francesca’s pure white incisors. Her blood had never seemed so sensuous, so alive. She could feel it flowing through her arteries and veins, collecting in the chambers of her heart, pumping out to the great vessels and into her lungs and her belly and her limbs. Filling her sex with urgency and excitement. She cupped herself, squeezing the hot, swollen flesh. The pressure made her back bow, and she moaned. The sound in the gloom resembled that of a wounded animal.

  She brushed her rigid clitoris with her thumb and whimpered. So perfectly pleasurable, so exquisitely painful. The featherlight strokes made the tension in her loins worse, and she pulled her hand away. She sat up on the side of the bed, instantly dizzy, and gripped the mattress on either side of her hips.

  She needed food, that was all. She hadn’t eaten since before Luce drove her here the night before. Or was it the night before that? Taking deep breaths, ordering herself to concentrate, she tried to remember the events of the last few days, but everything was so fragmented. Images of her and Luce and Francesca and…others…sliced and scattered by the relentless hunger clawing through her. Forcing herself to her feet, she staggered to the window and pushed it open. An icy breeze wafted over her naked skin, making her nipples harden and her skin pebble, and still she burned.

  Nothing outside looked familiar. The nearly full moon approached its apex and illuminated an expanse of lawn ending in a stand of pines a hundred yards away. No other lights shone, and if there were surrounding buildings, they were dark. From what she could see of the house by craning to see out the window, it was an enormous four-story stone mansion with no signs of life in the adjacent rooms. Somewhere a dog howled. She thought it was a dog. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was one of them. She shuddered.

  Them. She was studying them—the animal mutants, teasing out the secrets they’d hidden for millennia. The truth lay in their genetic codes—what made them different, what made them dangerous—not in the facades the more cunning of them presented. Sylvan Mir and Raina Carras and the other so-called Alphas pretended to be like humans, but she only had to look in their eyes to see the animals waiting to spring. Once she knew which sequences controlled those animal parts, she could neutralize them. Suppress the
dangerous elements that gave them power, tame them, like any other beast—domesticate them, perhaps. Like a dog or cat or horse or cow. She laughed at the image of a docile Sylvan Mir coming when she called, doing her bidding. And if the chemical sterilization rendered them incapable of reproducing, they would die off, like the bison or the carrier pigeon or the dodo.

  She laughed again and gripped the windowsill as a spasm shot through her. Should the selective deactivation of certain loci prove impossible, she would soon have the means to infect the entire population with a deadly contagion. All she had to do was modify the virus and test it in the right subjects. Her mind cleared and she remembered the newest subjects. The lab. They were in the lab, and she needed to get back to her work. Food and a shower and her work. She’d be all right then.

  The door behind her opened and she spun around. Her heart leapt and the pain in her belly grew so sharp she moaned. “Luce. Thank God. I need—”

  The Vampire, dark and beautiful and so powerful, glided into the room. Her white silk shirt was unbuttoned, revealing small china-white breasts and a long, slender torso. Her hips were encased in black silk, her feet in gleaming leather. “Whatever your needs, I am here.”

  Luce’s smile, sensuous and slow, sent a ripple of heat streaking up Veronica’s spine. She was instantly wet, so achingly aroused she wanted to weep. Luce wasn’t alone. A muscular blonde stepped in behind her, the light from the hall illuminating the hard, bold edges of her cheeks and jaw. Specks of gold glinted in her sea-green eyes. She was beautiful in a fierce kind of way. Her dark brown leather vest parted as she moved, baring her breasts and abdomen.

  Veronica stiffened. The blonde’s tight, tawny belly was etched in hard muscle and dusted with a faint sheen of gold visible even in the dim light. Were. The line of gold down the center of her abdomen thickened as Veronica watched, and her skin tingled. She’s seen these signs of arousal in the young female Weres she’d studied, remembered the pleasure of knowing she’d incited the reaction. Sex was power, and despite their superior strength, these lesser forms could be controlled by it.