Wild Wolf

  Graham shook his head. “I’m not leaving Misty alone. My wolves will know I mate-claimed her soon enough.”

  Dougal stepped in front of Graham, stopping Graham’s long-legged pace. “You made the mate-claim? That’s awesome. Did she accept?”

  “No, she tried to refuse. But I think I’ve changed her mind.”

  “With sex?”

  “No, I made her spaghetti,” Graham said impatiently. “What do you think? Of course, with sex.”

  “So she’s going to be your mate?” Dougal grinned, excited.

  “You’re okay with that?”

  “I like Misty. She’s nice. The total opposite of you.”

  Graham cuffed Dougal across the head, but gently. “I have to get my wolves to accept her. That won’t be easy.” When Graham had told them to try to decide which clan would dominate through one of their daughters, he’d temporarily eased the situation, knowing they’d argue among themselves. But when Graham presented them with his choice of Misty, they’d band together against him.

  “I’ll help,” Dougal said. “I’m your second now. I’ve got your back. And if Eric approves, he’ll have your back too. Everyone listens to Eric.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  If Misty refused Graham, on the other hand, end of problem. Something burned into his heart. If Misty refused, Graham would be lost. She completed him, made the other half of his world.

  “Anyway, Eric is waiting,” Dougal said. “Says he’ll take you out to see the Collar maker. Liam’s got him hidden.”

  “So no one will kill him.” Graham stretched his fingers, cracking his knuckles. “Might be fun to put this guy in the rings at the fight club, to see how long he lasts. Against Shifters with working Collars, that is. Would be fun.”

  “Yeah.” Dougal loved the fight club. He’d be the first one in line for a bout.

  “But I’m not leaving Misty,” Graham said. “You go in my place, tell them I’ll come later.”

  Dougal looked behind Graham. “Looks like Misty’s leaving you instead.”

  Graham pivoted. Misty was getting into the boxy car she’d borrowed to drive over here. She started it as soon as Graham turned, and pulled away from the house. She’d seen him, damn the woman, but she didn’t stop. Misty even smiled and waved as she drove around the corner.

  “Shit!” Graham headed for Dougal’s Harley, waiting in the driveway next to Graham’s still shot-up bike. His thirst kicked in as he lost sight of Misty’s car, and so did the pain in his heart.

  “Where are you going?”

  Eric materialized next to the bike before Graham could kick the starter. Eric couldn’t teleport, but the bloody Feline knew how to move softly.

  “I’m going after Misty,” Graham said. “Too dangerous to leave her alone.”

  “No, I’m going after her.” Eric gave him a pointed look. “You go question the Collar maker. I’ll take care of Misty.”

  Graham slammed his fists to his handlebars. “Screw you. Mates come first.”

  “Yep, you reek of the mate-claim,” Eric said, nodding. “And sex. I’m thinking Misty didn’t quite say yes, the way she hauled ass out of here. But I’ll bring her back. You go take care of your curse.”

  “Eric, you are not my alpha.”

  “No. I’m your co-leader. I’m telling you this for your own good. Let me talk to Misty. I’m good at being persuasive. And I’ll keep her safe. You know that.”

  Eric was a good fighter, strong and smart. And talky. Misty liked talking.

  Graham sighed and started the bike. “Fine. I’ll go. Dougal, you make sure Matt and Kyle are being taken care of. And stay out of trouble.”

  “Aw, that’s no fun,” Dougal said. He lost his smile and walked away.

  Graham watched him go, the bike throbbing impatiently under him. “Damned cub. How did you do it, Eric? Raise a cub to adulthood without killing him? Or him killing you?”

  Eric shrugged, his lazy look in place. “Jace is a different person. And my son, not my nephew. He’s . . . Jace.”

  “Yeah, well.” Graham glided the bike forward and lifted his feet. He rode off without a good-bye, but when he checked his rearview, Eric had disappeared.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Misty took the turn out of Shiftertown onto the quiet street that led to it. Not many people were out this late in the hot afternoon. The people who lived in or commuted to Las Vegas rarely came to this back corner of it.

  A large pickup pulled abruptly in front of her, blocking her way. Misty slammed on the brakes. At the same time, another truck pulled up beside her on the passenger side. A man got out, opened her car door, and slid inside. He closed the door, the truck ahead of her moved, and he pointed.

  “Drive that way.”

  The man in her car was Eric Warden. Misty stared at him, making no move to obey. “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Asking you to go that way.” Eric pointed down a side street.

  Misty gripped the wheel. “This is kidnapping.”

  “No it isn’t,” Eric said. “It’s having a chat. Now will you start driving?”

  The two trucks roared off. Misty caught only a glimpse of who was in them, but she thought she recognized the bear Shifter Shane driving one, his brother Brody the other.

  Misty pushed the accelerator and moved the car down the street Eric had indicated. “All right. You’ve kidnapped me. For a chat. What do you want?”

  “Accept Graham’s mate-claim.”

  Misty slammed on the brakes again. Eric braced himself on the dashboard, then grabbed the seat belt. “If you’re going to drive like that, I’ll buckle up.”

  “Did Graham send you?” Misty demanded.

  “Graham tried to stop me. I sent him off to take care of his Fae problem.”

  “Good.” Misty started driving again, slowly. “Why do you want me to accept Graham’s mate-claim? I think it would be a bad thing for Graham if I do.”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to fight for acceptance, and he’ll have to kick a few asses before everyone calms down. But I’ve watched Graham now for almost a year. Trust me, I keep a close eye on him. When Graham’s around you, he’s at ease with himself. He’s a loud, arrogant, obnoxious shit—always has been, and will always be—but with you, he seems to find peace. A reason for living . . . besides his determination to be the biggest dickhead in the room.”

  “He’s not a dickhead,” Misty said hotly. “If he wasn’t like he is, he’d have lost everybody in his life, more than he already has. He doesn’t say that out loud, but I know it. Dougal would have been killed in the wild a long time ago—I understand that now—and the Shifters in his Shiftertown wouldn’t have survived. Graham fought to keep them all alive.”

  “You’re not telling me anything I don’t know,” Eric said. “He kept those Shifters together up in Elko, when all of them could have easily gone feral. One hell of a task. I commend him for it.”

  “And so you want me to cause more trouble by staying with him?”

  Eric leaned back in the seat and rested his arm along the window. “They’ll come around. Shifters are all about what’s for the good of the pack, or clan, or whatever community they’re in. Might not seem like it most of the time, but they are. The only reason Shiftertowns work is that we’ve dedicated ourselves to making them work. We want survival, and we want our cubs to grow up safe and happy. We took the Collars, instead of letting ourselves get wiped out, for the sake of the cubs. Graham’s Shifters will understand, in time, that Graham having you is the best thing that can happen for them. All the crap about hierarchy and Shifters breeding with Shifters for strength is bullshit.”

  “I see.” Misty drove in silence for a time. She turned onto a main street, heading for her store. “You know, you’ve never once asked me what I wanted.”

  Eric made a lazy gesture
with the hand along the window. “I don’t have to. You want to mate with Graham.”

  Misty shot him a look. “Excuse me?”

  “I’ve been watching you too.” Eric leaned even farther back in the seat and rested one motorcycle-booted foot on the dashboard. “You’re a sweet young woman, and when you’re around Graham, you’re happier, stronger. More self-assured. And I see the way you look at him. Trust me, no one else in Shiftertown looks at Graham as though they want him to stay exactly the way he is.”

  “Really? That’s kind of sad.”

  “It means he needs you, and you need him. End of problem.”

  Misty turned down another street, navigating heavier traffic. “Was it that simple when you were going after Iona?” She sent him a sweet smile. “Graham told me you looked like you’d been hit with an anvil.”

  Eric didn’t take offense. “True, I denied my need to be with Iona for a long time. I’d been grieving my mate for so many years I didn’t know how to fall in love again. Iona taught me. Besides I had to save Iona from . . . other Shifters who considered her fair game.”

  Misty’s smile widened. “Don’t worry, I know Graham tried to Challenge you for her, so you don’t have to spare my feelings. For a man who doesn’t like to talk about personal things, Graham has told me a lot. I met him the night you two fought, and you lost.”

  “I didn’t lose,” Eric said indignantly. “I was incapacitated by something else. It was a draw.”

  “Graham tried to claim it was a draw too. But you both lost, didn’t you?”

  Eric sat up. “Hey, this is supposed to be your kidnapping. Me telling you what you should do.”

  “I’ll think about it. Meanwhile, I need to return this car and make sure the rest of my life is all right. Including my brother.”

  “Paul’s a good kid. He’ll be fine.”

  “You have a lot of optimism, Eric.”

  “I’ve been around a while,” Eric said. “It’s experience, not optimism.”

  “Do you want me to drop you off somewhere?”

  “No.” Eric laced his hands behind his head. “I should check up on what the Shifters are doing at your store. Shane can drive me back.”

  • • •

  "We’re doing this, with or without my dad,” Jace Warden said.

  Jace, Eric’s son, stood straight and tall, looking much like his absent father with his dark hair and green eyes, but more alert, more present than Eric ever let himself seem. Since Jace’s mating—he’d recently taken a mate from the Austin Shiftertown—he’d stood even straighter, with more authority than ever.

  Graham stood with Jace, facing the Shifters who were annoyed that Eric hadn’t showed yet. Eric wasn’t coming, Graham realized. He’d sent Jace to do this, letting his son take authority. Talking to Misty had been an excuse. Eric had made sure Graham was here to back up Jace if necessary. Cagey Feline.

  The Shifters stood in an old airplane hanger forty miles from town, in remote desert, where a human called Marlo kept his planes. The former drug runner now made his money carrying Shifters where they wanted to go. Shifters couldn’t travel outside a state without special permission, but as usual, Shifters had learned how to get around the rules. Marlo did a brisk business hauling Shifters back and forth. He was discreet, reliable, and knew how to avoid problems.

  The Fae-blood human who’d been captured sat in a straight-backed chair at the end of the hanger. He’d been bound in chains of silver, spelled, Graham guessed. Sean Morrissey stood with him, the Sword of the Guardian on his back, his father, Dylan Morrissey, at Sean’s side.

  Couldn’t be easy for the Fae-blood, facing a roomful of grim-faced Shifters who’d figured out he’d helped screw them in more ways than one. Couldn’t be easy sitting in a room with Dylan either, one of the most formidable Shifters ever born. No one could predict what Dylan would do.

  Bowman had come, as had Eoin from Montana. A couple of Shifters from Shiftertowns in Utah and New Mexico were also there, plus Liam and Sean—basically whoever had been able to get there on short notice.

  “He won’t tell us his real name,” Liam said, starting without preamble. “Afraid this will give us unfair advantage.”

  A rumble of laughter came from everyone but Dylan and Bowman.

  “In the human world,” Dylan said, “he goes by Lorcan.”

  The Fae flinched slightly. For the most part, he maintained his arrogance, even though he was outnumbered by angry Shifters ready to kill him. Technically Lorcan was employed by the human government, and Lorcan must have believed the humans would rush to his rescue. But if Liam and Dylan had been true to form, the humans wouldn’t even realize Lorcan had gone.

  Lorcan’s father, a half Fae, had come up with the concept of the Collars for Shifters, convincing humans twenty years ago, when the existence of Shifters was revealed, that these were the best way to keep the wild and dangerous Shifters under control. Collars used a combination of technology and Fae magic to react to a Shifter’s adrenal system, giving them shocks when they became violent—in the Collar’s opinion.

  Dylan’s rumbling voice silenced the Shifters. “Graham has recently discovered that the Fae in Faerie have created swords that can work in conjunction with the Collars—the swords set off the Collars at the will of the sword’s wielder. Is that correct?” Dylan bent to Lorcan, waiting for him to answer.

  Lorcan moved in his seat, but his eyes remained haughty. “If a Fae told you that, that Fae is no longer one of us.”

  “Huh,” Graham said. “He told me, because he thought he had total control over me. Thought I’d surrender right there and be his pet, then rush out and bring all my Shifter friends back with me to him.”

  “You are Shifter,” Lorcan said to him, his arrogance still present. “You have always been a captive. I am not and never will be.”

  “You are now, laddie.” Liam picked up one of the spelled chains binding Lorcan and shook it. “These don’t bother me, but they hold you pretty good. Why don’t you tell us what we want to know?”

  “And then what? You kill me? If I am to die, then you can live ignorant.”

  “We’re not going to kill you,” Dylan said. His tone was quietly calm, deadly. Graham, who didn’t intimidate easily, wanted to shiver. “You will go back to the Fae and tell them that their experiment failed.”

  “Will I?” Lorcan asked, disdainful.

  Lorcan, born of a human mother and a half-Fae father, looked human, even more so than most half Fae. He was slender, but his features were very human, his hair wheat brown instead of the severe pale fair of most Fae. His hair covered his ears, but Graham was pretty sure those ears weren’t pointy.

  “You will,” Dylan said.

  “We know what you’re up to, asshole,” Graham said. “You and your dad made the Collars, and I’m willing to bet you made or helped make the Fae swords too. Now, what’s the master plan? Or did you just want to make Shifters more miserable? Fae are still pissed off that Shifters won the war against them all those years ago and took their freedom. Get over it, already.”

  “This is a waste of time,” Bowman said impatiently. “Break some bones and get some answers. How many of these swords exist? Where are they? Why have the Fae waited to use them?”

  “Let Dylan finish,” Jace said sternly.

  The other Shifters looked at him, falling silent. Graham saw them adjust their thinking from viewing Jace as an older cub to Jace as Eric’s successor.

  Air displaced next to Graham, and Reid was there. Graham had drawn back his fist, ready to punch, but checked himself at the last minute. “Damn it, Reid.”

  The other Shifter leaders had started forward, a few of them half shifting. “What the fuck?” Bowman asked. Not everyone had known Reid could teleport.

  When Lorcan saw Reid, his assurance drained rapidly. “Dokk alfar.” He continued with a string of weir
d-sounding words.

  “Ironmaster,” Reid said, in English. He held up his hand, which was clasped by a heavy black ring—iron—and advanced on Lorcan.

  “What’s he afraid of?” Bowman asked, a growl in his throat. “Iron doesn’t affect mixed-breed Fae. And what the hell is he?” He pointed at Reid.

  “A dark Fae,” Graham said. “A pain in the ass. But handy to have around.”

  Reid didn’t appear to care whether iron was supposed to work on mixed-blood Fae or not. He held up his hand, light sliding on the dark ring, and brought his hand down and wrapped it around Lorcan’s throat.

  Lorcan screamed. He tried to scramble away from Reid, the chains clinking, chair scraping. He yelled rapidly in Fae before settling down to English. “Make it stop! Make it stop! Please! Stop!”

  The rest of the Shifter leaders watched in a mixture of surprise and unease. Who the hell is this? their body language said clearly. And do I have to worry he can do that to me?

  Reid lifted his hand from Lorcan’s neck, took a step back, and nodded at Dylan. Dylan didn’t return the nod.

  Graham went forward, tired of waiting. The Morrisseys could toy with Lorcan all day, like the cats they were, if they decided to. Wolves were more straightforward. “What is going on with the Collars and the swords?” he asked, pushing his face to Lorcan’s. “I want to know everything, including how to keep the Fae from activating them.”

  Lorcan licked the side of his mouth, where blood had dripped. More blood dripped from his nose, thin streams of it. “It’s too late. The High Fae have been making swords to match the spells in the Collars for many years. They’re almost ready. My father and I were chosen to help prepare the way.”

  “Because Fae want Shifters back under their power?” Graham asked. “Guess what? They’re not getting it.”

  “Fae wish to walk the earth again, as they once did. Shifters will fight the humans for the Fae—Shifters can fight iron.”

  “You mean Shifters kill all the humans, and the Fae pour out of their stone circles and rule the earth?” Graham leaned closer to Lorcan. “Do they realize how many humans are on this planet?”