Dire Needs: A Novel of the Eternal Wolf Clan (21 page)

His blood surged—the battle was a part of him as much as the wolf. He backed away reluctantly, wove through the woods behind where the Weres came in so he wouldn’t give away Gwen’s
position, and then he prepared to kill the outlaws threatening his way of life, his family… and most important, his mate.

Max worked her usual double shift. The amount of death and destruction—and crazy people—coming through the ER was twice what it normally was, and it was well past the full moon.

She knew far too much about the underbelly of this town—this world—and her connection to the supernatural one used to not freak her out like this. But she’d lost so much and she could possibly lose so much more if she wasn’t careful.

She didn’t want to be careful, wanted to run from this place, to find Liam and beg forgiveness. But he’d never understand and there was no way she could blame him.

She’d been recognized tonight—had denied it and got a laugh from the on-call resident as the older man insisted he knew her from the neighborhood.

When he left, she’d stared in the mirror and realized that hair color and makeup did nothing to cover up her sins. They never had, but she’d fooled herself for the past year.

Inside, she was still that same street punk, a mobster’s kid who’d left Brooklyn when she was twenty to avoid marrying into that same lifestyle.

Running from your fate never worked—she was living a prime example of that fact. And she’d tried it twice now.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Teague. She took it behind one of the curtains as she restocked a cart.

He didn’t wait for her hello. “Cordelia’s dead.”

Her mouth went dry and she tried hard to pretend she cared. “What happened?”

“Liam happened.”

Liam killed the witch and she was happy. Cordelia made her blood boil—it had been so hard for Max not to slam the woman across the room earlier, witch or no witch.

They knew she was Liam’s mate. They also knew about her past. So many ways to blackmail her, and they all made her furious.

In the past, no one would’ve dared to screw with her this way. No, they would’ve paid dearly.

Her thirst for blood back then scared her now. Some nights, she’d look in the mirror and wonder who she was, why her conscience would wake her up at night with a pounding heart and a pending panic attack.

As her temper grew, so did her need to control it. Liam understood so much, had from the very first night they’d met in the Were bar last year.

Funny, she’d always referred to her temper as the beast. To watch men and women shift into real ones… to have that undeniable freedom stirred jealousy in her.

She wished becoming a Were was as simple as the movies made it out to be, that all it took was a bite.

She was human. Mortal. Fragile. And Liam loved her anyway.

She’d never learned how to accept love without screwing it up. This time would prove no exception.

“I’m sending Weres for you now—be ready,” Teague said, and he was her future whether she wanted him to be or not.

She knew it was time to go for good. But she’d walk out of the hospital like it was simply change of shift and not her last day. And so she pulled a black hoodie over her blue scrubs, put her bag over her shoulder and went out the back exit.

Tried to, anyway. The man waiting for her in the shadows of the hallway was pierced and tatted and huge. She pulled a knife from her pocket, knowing it was completely useless despite its pure silver blade, and he smiled. Widely.

“Sweetheart, don’t bother. Just come with me.” His voice was rough gravel, and it took her a mere second to realize which of the famed Dires he was. Vice. Perhaps the most dangerous of the grouping—and the most legendary. Even standing near him, she could feel the pull of desire, thanks to him.

She knew all about them from Liam, who’d coached her on Were—and Dire—culture, trying to help her fit in. “You don’t understand—I can’t. They’re waiting for me.”

“The Weres? Not anymore.” He smiled then, and she noted the change in his eyes, the canines lengthening. The smell of a fresh kill enveloped her, and she wanted to celebrate, but she’d gain nothing from that. She wanted to beg but the words died in her throat as the brutally handsome man shook his head slowly. Held out his hand and told her, “Come on, now; don’t be afraid of the big, bad wolf.”

The door opened behind him and another large Dire said, “Cut the crap, Vice.”

She looked out the door behind the second wolf and saw Liam standing there, watching her.

The first time they’d met, she’d been fighting and he’d saved her—she just hadn’t known it at the time. Now she didn’t bother to fight any longer—or at all, compared to her old self. Instead, she put her head down and let the wolves lead her into their truck.

Liam didn’t say a word to her on the drive. She sat in the back next to Jinx while Vice drove with Liam next to him. Liam, the man she’d sworn to love for the rest of her days.

He’d taken her in, knowing she’d age, that she’d more
than likely die long before he did. Made love to her, let her watch him shift. He’d made himself vulnerable to her and, in the end, he’d accuse her of using that against him and his family.

And he wouldn’t be wrong.

T
he uncomfortable elephant-in-the-backseat car ride from hell took forever, even with Vice doing close to eighty on the old back roads. He heard the human’s harsh breathing, and it took a lot not to rip her head off for what looked like a major betrayal.

But she was a human, so he didn’t know what the hell Liam expected. Shit, if he was going to train this kid, he would tell him what his Marine sarge had told him—
If you were supposed to have a wife, we’d have issued you one.

“Hang on,” he told them as he yanked the car on a hard right turn into the driveway and pulled into the Dire house’s garage. Just before he pulled in, he noted Rifter coming at the Were pack surrounding the back property.

“They’ll come through the woods on the north side,” Jinx said as they raced through the house, leaving Liam to get Max inside.

“Secure her,” Vice told Liam, “and then come and fight.”

He stripped his shirt, as did Jinx, and they found Stray standing on the back porch, watching Rifter posture. Granted, the man could so back it up. Since the Weres appeared to forget that, Vice was ready to help remind them.

“Harm
begged me to let him fight,” Stray said, his voice harsh with anger. “I put the silver chain around his neck.”

Vice clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Good man. We’ll take care of this and then see what Rifter wants us to do with Harm.”

“He’s Gwen’s father,” Stray said. “I’m thinking he’s going to be sticking around.”

Jinx remained stoic, watching the Weres approach Rifter, counting and calculating the fight in his head with the precision of a master fighter, which he was. Vice was all anger and rage when he fought, but Jinx—and Rogue—they were both fierce and beautiful during the fight, the way a warrior was supposed to be. Even Stray was prettier than Vice in battle.

Vice shuddered then, as Jinx watched him. The demon spirits hadn’t exactly left him—he could feel some leftover energy making him hinky as hell. He shuddered a few more times, and then something was burning.

His skin.

“Jesus Christ, Jinx…”

“Hey, you let it in.” Jinx held the bottle of holy water and watched Vice’s body smoke from where the spirits had been. Black smoke rose from him, and he felt the demon slowly loosen its claws.

“Dude, wait—let it stay and keep an eye on me,” Vice told him, and Jinx’s hand remained poised to throw more holy water on him. “Some of those Weres are spelled too. You need some demon on your side tonight, for all our sakes.”

As Gwen watched from her hidden position, Rifter roared out of the woods, surprising the twenty or so men who’d been walking toward the Dire house.

Rifter moved toward the group bare chested, jeans
half undone and looking like some kind of primal god on the hunt. She could almost see the swagger of the wolf as man and beast melded to work as one. He wasn’t rushing, gave off the aura of a man who couldn’t be taken down.

The confidence helped to keep her breathing even, but the enemy was coming toward Rifter now. She counted twenty men on the opposing side, and while they weren’t as big as Rifter or his brothers, they were nothing to sneer at.

She had a feeling Rifter and his brothers had been outnumbered many times before this… and she had so much more to learn about all of them.

Wolf… yours.

Mine.

Lightning flashed overhead, making Rifter look powerful and giant.

Invincible. Something inside of her clawed, wanted to run and fight alongside him. It took everything she had to stay put and watch.

She checked behind her and saw only darkness, turned back to watch the enemy advance.

It was then she saw the other men emerge from the house.

Are all these men…
wolves
?

Like you,
the rustling whispered, more loudly than ever.

She would soon find out.

Rifter’s brothers—Vice and Jinx—were there, along with a third man she hadn’t met before. They were all shirtless as well. Vice was tattooed everywhere—he looked far more deadly than he had last night. You’d never know there was a gentle side to him at all.

Right now, she was glad to see all their ferocity.

“Back down,” Rifter warned as the small group surrounded the large one. “Or perish.”

It
was that simple. But the Weres were moving forward despite his words. At first, they met in the middle of the lawn as men, and then arms and legs gave way to fur and claws as the Dires and Weres began their battle.

The fight scared her… but somewhere deep inside, she felt a thrill of excitement. It was like watching a gladiator match. The men’s bodies, coated with a mixture of sweat and rain, impossibly perfect bodies, muscled and tattooed. And when the transition happened, she could finally watch and know she wasn’t losing her mind.

It was… fantastical. If she wasn’t so frightened…

The shift happened instantly—if she’d blinked, she would’ve missed it. One minute, Rifter was running toward the group of men, and the next, the handsome, fierce wolf was in his place, flying through the air.

One and the same,
the rustling told her.

I have that inside of me.
Struggling to get out all these years. She clutched a hand over her heart, which beat so fast she was sure it would burst through her chest.

One by one, Rifter’s brothers changed. Vice was a shockingly beautiful pure white, and Jinx was a dark auburn, like a slow-burning fire.

The other wolves were smaller—it was easy to tell them apart, but there were so many more of them than the Dire wolves.

She watched Rifter with pride.

He’s mine.

She felt like she should run out there and fight. Felt as though she could jump in there and put up the good fight. Her skin was tight as she watched from her position of safety behind the tree.

Rifter’s wolf howled after throwing the broken-looking bodies of two Weres to the ground near where she’d hidden.

As she watched, the Weres turned back to human—the men were obviously dead.

They were going to hurt you.

The sky was so dark, the moon stood out in stark relief, looked like a cutout, and she let the rain pound her nearly bare skin as she watched the fight. There were growls—they sounded like nothing she’d ever heard before.

When the two wolves came up silently on either side of her, she forced herself to check their eyes. Yellow. Green.

Cyd and Cain, the young twins she’d met in the kitchen earlier. Their ears flattened, like they were trying to tell her not to be afraid. And then the yellow-eyed one—Cain—moved close and nudged her toward Cyd and the house. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she moved away from the fight and toward the safety of the house.

They’d come just in time, since the Weres had crashed through the woods where she’d been.

They scent you.

She broke into a mad dash for the doors, hoping she’d be safe inside. Liam was waiting by the door, let her in and closed and locked the sliding glass behind her. He had a high-powered rifle in one hand and looked like he’d be more at home in the military than here. His chest was bare and she could see the thin red line where his chest had once been ripped open.

The heavy stitches she’d put in earlier were dissolved.

“You all right?” he asked, without taking his eyes off the fighting outside.

“Fine.”

“There are towels behind you,” he told her, and she grabbed one and wrapped herself in it. “Can you work one of these?”

He pointed to a rifle on the table to her right—that one looking more like the standard hunting rifle her uncle used to use to hunt buck. “Yes.”

She picked it up and held it against her body, her finger loose on the trigger.

Cyd and Cain remained in wolf form, stood pacing outside the sliding glass door while she remained inside, watching the scene play out in front of her like some CGI monster movie.

Except—were these men really monsters?

The Dires had fought as a team since the Extinction, learning early that they needed to stick together. And so they trained, far more stringently than they ever had with their packs, in order to work like a well-oiled machine. When Stray joined them, they worked him into their battles and he integrated well.

Now, without speaking, the men each took on the wolves in their trajectory—a close-quarters battle. This was in their blood. The fight made Brother Wolf’s inherent viciousness take over both their sensibilities, until Rifter couldn’t see anything but Were.

These were trained men, but not the leaders of the outlaw pack. They were sent in as a sacrifice, and that upset Brother more than anything. He ripped the head off a Were who’d grabbed his back leg in his teeth and threw the body away. Held the head in his teeth before shaking it off into the woods.

Some Weres were easy to kill, but some of these wolves were different. Off. Spelled.