Dangerous
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Dangerous
Copyright 2015 by D.L. Jackson
ISBN: 978-1-61333-877-3
Cover Art by Fiona Jayde
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Look for us online at:
www.decadentpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Black Hills Wolves Stories
Wolf’s Return
What a Wolf Wants
Black Hills Desperado
Wolf’s Song
Claiming His Mate
When Hell Freezes
Portrait of a Lone Wolf
Alpha in Disguise
A Wolf’s Promise
Reluctant Mate
Diamond Moon
Wolf on a Leash
Tempting the Wolf
Naming His Mate
A Wolf Awakens
The Wolf and the Butterfly
Infiltrating Her Pack
Omega’s Heart
Raven’s Claw
Claiming the She-Wolf
Coming Soon
Uncaged
Worth Fighting For
Promiscuous Wolf
Under a Mating Moon
Also by D.L. Jackson
Carnal Desires
Carnal Attraction
Carnal Denial
Cinderella Wore Combat Boots
This Endris Night
Her Boogie Woogie Bugle Guy
Being Prince Charming
Beauty and the Brigadier
Rebel Souls
Last Flight of the Ark
Courtesan Boot Camp
Prepper Romance
Finding Mercy
Shockwave
Slipping the Past
The Willfully Wedded Virgin
Moon Crazy
Dangerous
Black Hills Wolves
By
D.L. Jackson
Xander Davis sat at the corner booth, surveying the crowded restaurant. Twenty more miles and he’d be home. It might as well be two thousand. He hadn’t moved any closer to the pack in the last week, remaining holed up in his room most of the day and all of the night. He’d finally broken down and came out in public to grab something to eat, too hungry to ignore it anymore.
His hands shook as he cupped the warm mug of coffee between his palms. The scent of stale grease hung in the air. Behind him, an infant cried, to the left a woman argued with her husband over the cost of what she wanted to order. The waitress’s shoes squeaked against the linoleum, and a group of women laughed three booths over.
Swallowing the lump lodged in his throat, he hunkered down over his cup. That damned laughter. It taunted, pushed every button he had. In his mind, he ripped the table from them and smashed it through a window. Mouths would drop open. Blessed silence would follow, but only for a small fraction of time. Then chaos would erupt.
Been there. Done that.
Not worth the bullshit which would follow. He smiled softly.
Or would it be?
He lifted his coffee and sipped. The giggling continued.
He, he, he. He, he, he.
Xan slammed his mug down, sloshing brown liquid all over the paper placemat with ads for tractor parts, repairs, new vehicles, and bridal gowns.
Shut the fuck up
.
He, he, he.
He turned to look at them. Young women, sparkling eyes, pretty dimples, perhaps twenty—college girls. Harmless. He curled his lip and growled. They weren’t what they sounded like. He knew they were only young girls, but his mind refused to listen. Xan slid his hands over his ears and closed his eyes, as the laughter became an ominous cackle.
Heye, heye, hey, hey
. The sounds of Jackals came at him from everywhere.
Heye, heye, hey, hee, hee, hee
. Just as his muscles tensed and he braced to bolt, a hand dropped onto his shoulder.
Xan jumped and scooted to the back of the booth, breaking contact and knocking his coffee over. The java ran across the table and poured onto the floor where the waitress stood.
“I said, are you okay?” She stared at him, her expression leery, breathing rapid, her heart hammering away like a machine gun. She didn’t mean it. More afraid, than concerned. Probably hoping he’d leave. He might not be able to shift into a wolf anymore, but he could still tell she didn’t want him there. He scared her.
Damned his enhanced senses. He could even hear her fear. He wasn’t a monster; he’d met monsters, but he doubted she’d believe him now, after his little display. He couldn’t blame her. Hell, the cook out back probably had his finger on speed dial, waiting to call the police. Different town, same scenario.
Here we go.
“Yeah. I have a…migraine.” He smiled again; sure, he looked as sincere as a serial killer. It had been a long time since he’d worn an honest look of happiness, and he had to all but use his fingers to force the corners of his mouth to lift into the universal expression of friendliness.
Thrum, thrum, thrum.
Her heart continued to race like a cornered rabbit.
“Would you like me to get you an aspirin?”
Right
.
She frowned, giving him a look, one that questioned if he needed another kind of medication, and a straitjacket. Her expression read somewhere between self-preservation and freak-out. If only she knew. Nothing in a bottle or on a spoon could unfuck his mind.
“No, thank you. It’s gone past the aspirin stage.”
“Might have something stronger out back….”
Like a sledgehammer or forty-five?
“I said, no,” he barked and realized how loud when she jerked.
Her eyes dilated, and her nostrils flared.
Fight or flight.
Xan softened his tone. “No, thank you. Okay?”
“All right.” She backed up a step. “Would you like another coffee?”
Right.
Yeah, all over it like tree pitch on skin. As if she wanted to come any closer to pour him one. Xan tamped down the urge to jump at her and growl, and nodded instead, shoving his hands in his hair.
You’re not an asshole. Stop acting like one.
He blew out a breath, doing anything to maintain control of the nightmare threatening. “Another coffee would be great. Sorry about the mess. You startled me.”
“I’ll be back to clean up the spill in a second. I’ll bring your coffee, and steak—rare. You sure you don’t want any vegetables or salad with your sirloin?”
“Yeah, just the meat. Thanks,” he mumbled and focused on the soaked placemat. He really needed to learn how to interact with civilized society without losing it constantly. Something needed to give and soon, or he’d be one of those guys he heard about on the news who went postal and ultimately dead after law enforcement gunned them down. Hell, he could go for death by cop, but that was the coward’s way out. He’d never been one, and never would be.
Now broken—he could claim that title and with good reason. If all the people going about their lives, blissfully unaware of what lurked in the dark corners, knew the truth of what stalked around in the night, there would be chaos. There were bigger and badder things in the world than a wolf with post-traumatic stress disorder. He’d met them. He turned to look out the window. It would be dark soon, and he needed to get back to the room before the sun sank into the hills.
Night was not his friend. Maybe tomorrow he would have the courage to finish his journey home. “On second thought,” he called out to the waitress headed toward the kitchen. She glanced back. “I’ll take my steak to go.”
***
Santa Fe, New Mexico, three years earlier….
Creak, creak, creak, clunk.
A cart rolled into the room, banging against a doorjamb. Rubber soles squeaked against sterilized linoleum. She didn’t want to open her eyes and she didn’t have the strength to even move her arm, so Liv didn’t bother to see who’d come to visit. Nurse, doctor, housekeeping.
She sucked in a deep breath and gasped as her lung burned and liquid gurgled in her throat.
“Easy there, sis. Your lung has been through hell. Take shallow breaths.”
No shit, Sherlock.
Her whole body had been there and back. Liv opened her eyes.
Her sister squeezed her hand. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Did he…?” God her chest hurt. He’d had her down on her kitchen floor, tearing at her clothing. She’d scratched his face, raking her nails across his cheek as hard as she could, taking strips of flesh with her. The scent of blood filled her nostrils. His eyes flashed blue—or had they? Had she mixed up the attack with memories of a movie? Why couldn’t she remember? “Did he rape me?”
“No, honey. You fought him off. Your neighbors heard you scream and called the police. They’re gonna get him. Don’t you worry.”
“You fucking tease. I love you. Do you hear me!”
“Let go, Terrance. I told you. We’re over. Leave.”
Rip. Pain exploded on the side of her head, where he rammed her skull into her terra-cotta tiles. Lights pulsed across her vision. “We’re over when I say we are over.”
Beep, beep, beep.
Her heart rate monitor began to accelerate. Liv swallowed and looked at the wall.
“You fucked them all. Except me. I want what you were giving them.” His weight pressed down, crushing her. One hand restrained both her wrists, shoving them over her head. His other hand…. Oh God.
She turned back to her sister. “They can’t find him?”
“No, not yet. But they will.”
“He’ll kill me, Kayla.”
“No, honey. He’ll have to go through me first.”
“What about the pack?”
“I can talk to them.” Kayla no longer looked in her direction. “But I doubt they’ll listen.”
The coyotes made it all too clear they wanted nothing to do with her. She was a freak, unable to shift, the animal not even a part of her scent anymore. They’d run her off, broke all contact, treated her as though she had never belonged. All but her sister. When Kayla had stuck by her, they turned their backs on her, too. Shortly after, Kayla met a wolf from the Black Hills.
Her sister and Gaelan fell in love at first sight.
And the bond would eventually take the only family she had left, away. Her stomach twisted, and Liv had the urge to hurl. “You’re leaving with him anyway. How can you promise to protect me?”
“We’ll stay here, with you.”
“No, eventually he’s going to want to go back to his pack. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Can we not discuss my life right now?”
A nurse walked in. “Miss Dunn. You should let your sister sleep. Alarms are going off at the nurse’s station and she needs to remain calm and get rest.”
Kayla nodded and rose to her feet. “This conversation isn’t over.”
“No, I think it is. After all, I’m only human.”
***
Every light he could turn on in the room, he had. From the lamps beside the bed, to the television and the bathroom vanity mirror. A man could land the space shuttle from the illumination coming out of 155.
Xan sat in the center of the bed, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth. Staring at a painting on the wall, but not seeing it. Hell, he’d been in this room almost seven days and couldn’t even tell anyone what subject the artist painted, or who the hell signed it.
“Oomph.” He hit the bottom of the pit hard.
“Dis is da way we be playing it tonight, government mon. You gonna give us the names of your contacts, or we tell da world your secret. Hey, hey, hey. Hee, hee, hee.” Ten other hyenas joined in the chorus, circling the pit, staring down at him with glowing blue eyes, illuminated by the torches they carried.
“You don’t have shit. You’re getting nothing.”
The Jackal, a local warlord who went by the name of Ajani, poked him with a long spear, skewering him in the thigh and pinning his leg to the damp clay in the bottom of the pit. “We shall see about dat.”
