Desert Wolf (7 page)

“I’ll take care of it.” The hum of the razor added to her amusement and a giggle escaped. Clapping a hand over her mouth, she shook her head. She needed more food. Gumbo wasn’t that funny. Nor was shrimp in the desert. She snickered again, and systematically demolished her second chicken salad po boy. By the time Faust emerged, she’d also drank the last of the chicory. He’d changed into a clean t-shirt and jeans, shaved, and combed his damp hair away from his face. A few pinkened scars still decorated his throat. Other than a hint of a bruise around his eye, he seemed in good shape.

Well, he always bounced back faster than she did. It was enough that she looked human. Felt human. Time to go to work.

“You need to nap.” She slid off the stool and gathered her dishes. “In fact, I can make it an order, if you like.”

The bags on his eyes had luggage, but Faust merely grinned. “You can try, luv, but I don’t have to obey an order that puts you directly in danger. Until we’ve settled on all security arrangements, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, then let’s get this settled. Immediately.” Setting the dishes in the sink to soak, she cleaned out the French pot, then prepared it for another brew when they returned. “He’s right next door, isn’t he?”

After drying her hands on a dish towel, she marched for the front door, pausing only when Faust whistled. “Shoes, luv.”

Wiggling her toes against the cool tile, she frowned. “How long of a walk is it?”

“It’s not the distance, it’s the heat. The air is cool, but the sun’s been on the paving stones for hours. It could be bloody hot.”

A fresh wave of laughter welled up through her to escape. “Sugar, you grew up in Ireland. Your heat waves are winter temps at home. You might burn your sweet, soft feet, but trust me, I’ll be fine.” She spent many a summer racing around the neighborhoods, playing hopscotch on scorching summer days when heat rose from the pavement in waves. Even if the stones were hot, the air outside wasn’t.

He cut her off at the door, opening it for her and stepping out to brace it so she could exit. “See?” She grinned and gave him a bump on her way out. “We’re doing it my way.”

Faust scowled, but none of the anger reached his eyes. The door opened to a bright courtyard. Pausing she studied the layout. They were really in a walled compound, but sounds beyond the wall warned her a greater population lived close by. Yellow paving stones filled the area and gave it a rustic, old feeling. If she ignored the carport, she could almost imagine they’d been transported back in time to the Spanish occupation.

It held a certain amount of charm. The breezeway connecting the guesthouse offered a shady area with a couple of outdoor chairs and a table, and the blue water of a swimming pool gleamed on the far side. The sound of trickling water beckoned and she crossed the courtyard slowly. The stones were definitely warm beneath her feet, but worth the trespass for the fountain. Three tiers crowned the fountain where water trickled down into a deep pool at the base. It was—magical. Constructed of the same adobe stone as the rest of the compound, the red trim added a hint of age. Cupping her hand, she dipped it into the pool and lifted the water to her nose.

Clean and clear, she detected no hints of iron or sulfur. Did he have a secret spring in the mesa? How did they find it? Was it fed from an underground well perhaps? Or from a rain barrel? Tipping her head, she looked at the sky. The unending blue was so vibrant. A lone hawk glided across the sky, the only spot of movement. No planes. Helicopters. Canting her head, she frowned. No real vehicle noise at all.

How did they make it work in such isolation?

“Sovvan?” The question in Faust’s tone hung in the air, but she raised her hand to ask him for a moment. A world with such a low amount of ambient noise? Had she ever heard anything like the silence? New Orleans was never quiet—not the Garden District, not the Quarter, not Jackson Square…the pulse of the city was in her blood. The sounds of
life
…a cold shiver raced over her skin. How did they manage with so much hush? A woman’s voice in the distance, a child’s laugh—they created subtle ripples in the stillness.

Her racing heart calmed. She hadn’t woken on some alien world, though she might as well have. Shaking the water from her hand, she continued across the sunbaked stones to the front door. The scent of the human woman from the guesthouse lingered near the doorway. To the best of her knowledge, Cassius wasn’t mated, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a lover or something. Surprise filtered through her at the idea of a human in the Sutter Butte pack. They weren’t friendly to wolves, how would humans fare among them?

No snap judgments. No assumptions.
Curling her fingers, she took a deep breath and exercised her mental training and discipline. Embracing her own nature, she recognized the shape of herself within her skin. She knew exactly who she was, what she was, and she closed out all other distractions.

Distractions like horror stories about Sutter Butte. Distractions such as the dark, blood-soaked memories of the fight at the rest stop. Distractions like the image of the fierce Alpha bursting into the fight, or his blood spattered face when he told her he
needed
her there.

Forget everything I know. Listen to what he shares. Scent the lies, the truths, and look for what is hidden.
Prepared, she knocked on the door.
Ready or not, Cassius, here I come.

H
is eyes snapped
open at the knock. Rolling to his feet, he was off the bed and to the top of the stairs before his mind fully processed the sound, and its source. Maria paused mid-step in the downstairs hall. Dressed in comfortable clothing, and wiping her hands with a towel, she had most likely been cooking when their guests knocked. The scent of chili permeated the downstairs, and his stomach rumbled. The movement of the light told him it was afternoon. He’d slept for four hours.

Awareness flooded through his sleep-deprived brain.

“Thank you, Maria. I’ll take care of the guests.” He descended the staircase in a pair of black silk pajama bottoms and nothing else. It felt like he’d blinked and then the knock came.

“Shall I bring out some iced tea?”

He nodded.

“And you should eat something more, Cassius.”

“I’ll eat later, some of that wonderful chili you’re preparing.” He opened the door and paused. Sovvan Stark stood on his doorstep with her Hound behind her. The sun surrounded her in a dazzling halo, and his eyes stung at the brightness. Her dark skin gleamed, and even the deep black of her hair seemed to have a reddish tint, or maybe his eyes hadn’t adjusted.

“Chili?” Her voice sounded sweeter than he remembered. Of course, she wasn’t whispering, in pain or covered in blood. All improvements.

Taking a step backward, he motioned for them to enter. “Maria makes the best chili in Arizona, probably in New Mexico, though I’ve never bothered to test others since she learned to cook.”

Faust gave him a long look as he followed Sovvan inside. The Hound kept his hands clasped behind his back, and his expression unreadable.
So, guard dog mode.
Shutting the door after they were inside, Cassius ignored him.

“Come with me,” Cassius said as he strode past them and down the hall toward the main salon. Like the rest of his house, terracotta tiles decorated the floors, but the wide room dominated the entire back half of his house. It overlooked the pool and the acacia trees. Weather permitting, he could push back the sliding doors and turn it into an open terrace.

Sunlight filled the room, but the anti-reflective, bullet proof glass kept it from overheating while also protecting them from any prying eyes should someone dare invade his privacy. Sovvan didn’t enter immediately; instead, she paused at the top step leading into the room and gaped at…what? The layout? The furniture? The excessive use of glass? Or maybe the white sheer curtains he’d added after seeing them in a film. If the doors were opened, a breeze billowed them. It reminded him of a desert scene in Arabia or the old world. Cassius wouldn’t have minded life as a Bedouin.

He tried to see it through her eyes, but he didn’t know her well enough to know what might have caught her attention. The white furniture? The hand-thatched rugs set strategically about to break up the monotony of the red terracotta? The broad expanse of the mountains in the distance, where the Colorado plateau rose to meet the Rocky Mountains?

Studying her, he paced along the edge of the room. When she finally deigned to gaze at him, he raised his eyebrows. “Problem?”

“No, not really.” She descended the steps. “This…this room and you don’t exactly complement each other.” With one finger, she motioned a small circle as though to include it all. Her Hound remained on the top step as she ventured farther into the room. Cassius could almost scent the curiosity.

Dressed in shorts and a pale yellow blouse, the she-wolf looked infinitely better in the light of day than she had the night before. Her dark hair fell in a soft wave to the center of her back and flowed over one shoulder. So black it was red in places—was it natural or did she tint it? Her dark skin was smooth, a near perfect chocolate shade and though he’d never been a fan of sweets, he had to admit—he enjoyed looking at her.

Her deep brown gaze collided with his, and she canted her head. “Would you like a moment to change? Since I seem to have dragged you out of bed.”

“No dragging required.” The corner of his mouth curved in spite of himself, and he raked a hand through his hair. “If it bothers you, I’ll dress. Otherwise have a seat. The sooner we start, the better.”

“Testy. Do you want to go back to your nap?” Despite the remark, she perched on the edge of the sofa. Maria approached, carrying a tray with a pitcher of ice tea and some glasses. Faust took it from her with a short nod. Carrying it into the room he set it on the table, and his nostrils flared as he tested the scent of the tea.

Cassius’ patience with the farce began to fray. “I did not save her life last night only to poison her today.”

“I’m aware,” Faust said, pouring two glasses of tea. “Only you did not serve the tea. Your woman did, and I don’t know her.”

“Maria wouldn’t harm a fly, and she is absolutely off limits in any discussion we have.” Of all the people in Sutter Butte… “I trust Maria with my life. She has run of my house, and she prepares nearly all of my food. If it will comfort you both, I will always eat and drink first of anything she prepares.”

“No, I accept your word that she is trustworthy.” Sovvan answered rather than Faust. Her Hound didn’t like that. His sharp frown vanished nearly as soon as it appeared. If Cassius hadn’t been staring at him, he might have missed the reaction. When Faust passed a glass of the tea to Sovvan, she hid a small smile and then watched her Hound expectantly. A wordless pulse of communication passed between them. The red head scowled again, then retrieved the second glass he’d poured and held it out to Cassius.

Accepting the glass without comment, Cassius didn’t bother to hide his amusement. The Hound glared at him, but refused to meet his gaze. So, the hostility extended only in as much as he wanted to protect Sovvan. Would he challenge Cassius if the Alpha endangered her?

Probably.
However, in this we are at least on the same side.
Accepting the other wolf’s rancor, Cassius nodded to the tea. “Feel free to help yourself.”

“No—thank you.” The last two words must have tasted like acid, but Faust glanced at Sovvan once more. “Are you certain?”

“I am.” Profoundly calm, she personified grace. A perfect night, like those Cassius enjoyed sitting out in the garden and observing. Tranquil. What did she know that others did not? The desire to plunder her knowledge flooded him, and he hadn’t hungered for a hunt so desperately in years.

“Very well.” Facing Cassius once more, the Hound raised his head and met his gaze, eyes gone wolf. “I will leave Sovvan in your capable hands. I expect her to be as healthy as she is in this moment when I see her next, without a hair on her head harmed. Are we clear?”

The verbal gauntlet dropped with cool, deliberate force. Picking it up, Cassius inclined his head though he never released Faust’s gaze. “I accept the charge. She is
mine
to protect, and I will see to her personally.”

Silence met the declaration. Faust shook his head, but he ceded the field and left without another word. After the front door closed, Cassius set his tea down. “If you will give me a moment, Sovvan? I’m going to let Maria know not to disturb us.”

“Of course.” Intrigue gleamed in her eyes. It only took him a couple of minutes to track Maria into the kitchen. She tended her chili and read a magazine at the counter.

“Do you need me to step out for a few hours, Cassius?” The woman knew him far too well.

“No.” He needed privacy, but after the bold attempt to take out the Omega, he didn’t intend to give any of his potential enemies another target. Maria was vulnerable, as were many within the walls of Summit. The wolves in Summit were loyal, but he did not want to test how far their loyalty went. Not with Sovvan newly arrived. “I will be locking us in the living room.” It was soundproof. “Please don’t disturb us. I’ll call when we’re ready for a meal. I expect the Hound will return within the next ninety minutes.”

Taking the notepad off the fridge, Cassius flipped to the page behind Maria’s shopping list and wrote a short note.

We are talking. When we’re done, we will tell you. – Cassius.

“Give this to him when he knocks.”

She smiled. “He doesn’t trust you.”

“The feeling is mutual. However, we are united by a common cause, so we will learn to adapt. If you want to leave the chili warming and retire early, I won’t complain.”

She snorted. “As if I’d let you serve my chili to a guest. You’d slop it in a bowl and just leave it without the cornbread or the onions. She’s from New Orleans, I expect she’ll enjoy the spicy kick and, if you manage to not offend her and chase her off, I’ll be making a pan dulce as well.”

His jaw clenched at the
not offend and chase off
comment. His natural instinct to deny the charge warred with the brutal truth of how accurate she was. Maria knew him, had known him for too long. “I will do my best,
querida.
Don’t worry, I think she is far tougher than she looks.” Thankfully.

“For your sake, I hope so.” Maria grinned. “You are too lonely, Papa.”

“How can I be lonely? I have you.” He winked, and pushed aside the sympathy in her eyes. Her nose wrinkled in disapproval, but he dropped a kiss on her weathered cheek and left her to her cooking magazine. She loved the damn things. He’d have to find her a few more, especially if she went into one of her experimenting moods.

Sovvan had abandoned her perch on the sofa and stood at the windows, gazing at the pool and the broad, sun-soaked yard when he returned to the salon. Closing the doors behind him, he engaged the lock before crossing the room to join her. “If you want to use the pool, please—anytime.”

“I didn’t bring a suit.”

“You don’t need a suit.” The woman could not possibly be shy. Most of the wolves he knew went naked as often as they went clothed. “However, whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Unlike this conversation, which makes you very uncomfortable.” She leaned against the glass and folded her arms. “So tell me, Cassius, now that it is just the two of us…what do you need from me?”

Very well
. Time to put all his cards on the table. “Everything you have.”

H
er gut clenched
at the blunt declaration. “Everything I have?”

“Yes.” The deep gravel of his baritone sent a shiver over her skin. The man was so utterly raw. Wolves by their nature were somewhat primitive. Dominants. Submissives. Alphas. Omegas. Healers. Hounds. Hunters. Everyone had a place in the pack. Even the Lone Wolves established a sense of hierarchy. Cassius was different. His power seemed to be a part of him, a feral being barely leashed and the only one holding his leash was him.

“Explain.” She could make up a lot of stories or inferences from his request. “And be explicit. No side talk or implications.”

“Your word what we discuss does not leave this room? Not even to your Alpha.”

“Well that could be a problem.” Her loyalty belonged to Serafina.

“Nothing we discuss impacts your Alpha, or your pack for that matter. It is exclusively about my pack, me, and my plans for the future.”

Frowning, she turned the statement over in her mind. “Plans which require my involvement, which in turn involves my pack because Faust is here…it’s really splitting a fine line between what involves them and what doesn’t.”

“If I can’t trust you with this information, you won’t be able to help me.” Anger scored the words, though not his scent. So perhaps it was only frustration at their current impasse.

“You know, I’ve known you less than twenty-four hours, and I’ve managed to piss you off four times.” Would he respond to teasing? “One could say we were old friends.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction. “I only counted three.”

Extending her index finger, she said. “I got distracted by Faust breaking someone’s neck, and I was worried about him.” Raising a second finger, she added. “I didn’t listen to you immediately after the fight, and had to check on the bodies.” Though some of her memories of the battle were still foggy, she recalled those explicitly. “I nearly abandoned your plans altogether at the rest stop and you had to convince me to stay and, now, I’m not willing to give you my blind promise to keep everything you tell me a secret.”

“Huh.” His grunt wasn’t really a response, but he shrugged. “I counted everything at the rest stop as one. You were irritating but alive, so I didn’t complain too much. You weren’t cooperative when we arrived here and refused to let me see you and, yes, you’re inability to promise is annoying, but I am not truly angry.”

“Like I said, we’re old friends already.”

“I don’t have friends.” The sober truth in the short sentence surprised her.

“I find that hard to believe. You’re Alpha.” Even Serafina had friends and, from what she remembered of Mason during his time in Delta Crescent, he likely had friends as well.

“Well, you would, princess. You’re from a soft pack with a soft lifestyle, and you probably make time for dinner parties and socials. Sutter Butte isn’t kind. It isn’t friendly, and friends come in only two varieties.”

Unease coiled through her gut, so she almost hated to ask. “Which are?”

“The ones who want to get close enough to stick a knife in your back, and the ones who can be used to control you.”

“What an ugly way of looking at the world.”

Another shrug. “It is what it is, princess. Your Hound out there? He’s all about protecting you. I’m sure you trust him utterly. You let yourself be helpless around him.”

“Of course. He’s my Guardian. We’ve been together for years. He’d die for me.” As she would for him. “I won’t apologize for trusting him.”

“If he could be turned, if you had something he wanted…he’s in the perfect position to kill you.”

“I suppose so.” What a dark way to look at the world. “He’s been in that position for years, even during the upheaval in Delta Crescent. If he didn’t kill me then, I see no reason for him to want to do so now.”

“Why didn’t he kill you then?” Of course he laser focused on the prior opportunity. “It was during the battles for ascension, yes?”

“Yes. When Poppa passed away.” Serafina’s father had been a good man and a great Alpha. The story was common knowledge, and Cassius had been in attendance when the ascension rounds began. Her gaze tracked the scar bisecting his chest. Though he was tattooed with some unfamiliar symbols across his shoulders and pecs, the black lines seemed to frame the scar traveling from his sternum to his gut. “We all mourned him, and his Hounds set aside the time and the place for the ascension. Some elected to stay out of it entirely, some chose to fight.”