Her Wanted Wolf (45 page)

Silence fell between them. Micah was fuming, while Drew struggled to
think of a way to get Redmaven to accept what he needed but didn’t want.

“Not giving it to you, I’ll lend you some.” Drew flashed him a grin. “I
will of course charge you interest, compounded daily. You’re not going to stand
by and let your people go hungry. Suck it up, Redmaven. I had to do it for
Aimee.”

A haunted bleakness flitted across Micah’s face before an aggrieved grunt
rumbled in his throat. “Shit, what’s with you Lunedares? Do you gouge everybody
with exorbitant interest rates?”

“Only those we love.” Drew slid a coldly mocking glance at Micah. “Or
loath, but can’t touch. Until Aimee gets over her little infatuation with you,
I can’t ruffle your fur. But after that, all bets are off.”

A shit-eating grin spread across Micah’s face. “It just bites, doesn’t
it? The fact that Aimee loves me?”

The slight empathy Drew felt for Micah as two men dealing with
opinionated mates, evaporated like spit on hot asphalt.

There was acrimony in the were’s voice. Riding over that was pride and
the joy of a man secure in his mate’s love. Worse yet, from Drew’s point of
view, standing before him was the man who loved his sister above all else. It
was going to be difficult to dislodge him from Aimee’s heart. She’d always
wanted a family, like the one they lost. They both did. He and Micah Redmaven
would never be friends, but the she-wolf that connected them was dear to them
both.

“That’s putting it mildly, but I’m not worried. Aimee will come to her
senses.”

“Never gonna happen.” The confidence in Micah’s short statement irritated
Drew no end.

“We’ll see.”

The sense that he was under scrutiny caused Drew to look up. His skin
dark and leathery from the sun, a barrel-chested gnome of a man stood in the
wheelhouse, bowlegs braced apart staring down at Drew, curiosity in his eyes.

“What the story with the human?” Drew almost grinned when the captain
flicked two fingers in salute at him. Appreciating the human’s cocky
insouciance, Drew nodded in response.

“Dubois? The long and the short of it is, I saved him from a pair of
wolves who were tenderizing him. I don’t even want to speculate about what they
were going to do with him. Turns out he had a boat in dry dock for repairs.
When I needed to transport a bunch of people out of Savannah, he offered us the
use of this vessel for as long as we needed it. Don’t how we’d have managed
without him.”

“Does he know we’re weres?” He sure as hell didn’t need a bunch of
gun-toting humans breathing down their necks.

“I think he suspects. The Cajun babbled about the
loup-garou
as we
patched him up. None of us has shifted in front of him to give ourselves away.
I hinted that we’re a cult on the run from the law, and since he has no use for
cachons
, as he refers to the cops, it worked to our advantage. However,
we showed up here, butt naked, battered and bruised, and by some miracle, we’ve
healed this morning. I don’t know how he’s going to rationalize that.” Micah
rubbed a hand over his face and let out weary sigh. “We’ll be lucky if he believes
we’re a bunch of crazy ass nudists.”

Drew laughed, “We’ve been called worse things.”

A sighing snort huffed past Micah’s lips. “Yeah, isn’t that gods honest
truth.” His words were tinged with bitterness.

“Are you open to listening to how I think we should go about dealing with
Bardo?”

Looking like a man who was about to swallow some nasty tasting medicine,
Micah grimaced. “Not really.”

“Well, I could always ask Aimee what she thinks. She can nag you into a
quivering mass of agreeableness.”

The steady gaze Micah fixed on him didn’t have as much dislike as it did
when he walked on deck. “You’ve got a streak of mean in you a mile wide, don’t
you? You S.O.B.”

“So I’ve been told. I do my best to live up to it. Are we going ashore
for supplies, or what? I can’t think on an empty stomach, and I need to make
some calls.” He needed to let his pack know what was happening, call in a few
favors, and set things in motion to get his little sister what she wanted.

Drawing Bardo out might not be so easy. There was a new set of variables
they had to circumvent, now that Rifkin was in the mix. But if he had to work
with Redmaven to get what he needed, he would.

Micah’s eyes narrowed, distrust darkening them. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m going to call a friend of mine to secure a sanctuary for your family.
When he gets here just let me do the talking.”

Micah leaned on the side of the boat, arms folded over his chest and
crossed his legs at the ankles. “What, don’t you think a dumb Redmaven can
string two words together?”

“No, I think you’d rub each other the wrong way. You already qualify for
his kill on sight list.”

Mouth twisted, Micah scoffed, “Yeah, I’m a Redmaven, so it’s a given.
Right?”

“Not quite. Bardo’s father took his sister. It was one of the reasons
your pack lost our domain.”

“Hmmm, yes, Lily Sinclair. Eyes like molten honey, skin like coffee with
just a hint of cream in it. Yeah, I’ve had the pleasure.”

“Gee, do remember to bring that up within Royal’s hearing range. I’ll
just stand back and watch him rip you apart. It’ll solve a problem for me.”

“It wasn’t like that. After Ambervane mated with the
multimorph
,
Maxim wanted a she-wolf, who was a sister to an alpha for Bardo. She plays a
wicked game of chess.”

“You play chess?” He’d heard the Redmavens didn’t waste money on formally
educating their young.

“Surprise, surprise, I’m not illiterate. I was one of the few considered
worthy of an education.”

“Tell me, what made you qualified?”

“Bardo’s father had me tested. Top marks in strategic thinking,
protective instincts, a photographic memory, and a body that that turns into a
weapon of destruction when I shift. To Maxim, we weren’t family but chess
pieces on a board, kept isolated until he found a use for us. Soldiers. Pawns.
We were fed a special formula of the juice as mother’s milk. Most died, but a
few survived. There were ten of us left. It’s down to eight if my two missing
comrades are dead. Four run with Bardo, and they are loyal to whoever is alpha
of the pack. That is their mindset. Rifkin had two in his corner. You killed
one. You have seven weres like me to contend with and you’ve see what we become
when we shift. Rifkin and I are the worst of the lot. It seems we were slated
for bigger things than the others.” Bitterness turned his eyes into stony,
glittering emerald gems.

Crap, what did one say to that? He didn’t want to imagine how twisted
Micah’s upbringing made him, not when his sister’s heart was tangled up with
him.

“Well, Mr. Strategic Thinking, what do you think is the set up between
Bardo and Rifkin?”

Micah didn’t hesitate. He spoke with a quiet conviction. “At this point,
I don’t know. If Rifkin is still playing boot licker, he’s only a member of
Bardo’s cadre to keep abreast of things. I know he’s waiting for a chance to
take down the Redmaven alpha. Bardo’s guard won’t interfere because of pack law.
The same way they won’t intervene if I challenge Rifkin if he’s alpha. I can
beat him. I figure he tracked me here last night to take me out before I
challenge Bardo. He would have help now, since they’d consider me disloyal to
the pack. That way he’d have a clear shot at the leadership. Now that you’re in
the mix he might have to rethink his plans.”

“Yeah, I can become a real complication without making any effort.”

Micah paused, his face grim. “He wants me dead because he wants Aimee,
and there is no way in hell I’d allow him free access to my clan. He’ll use
Milo. No other cub is going to suffer through any more experimentation like we
did. He has to be stopped.”

“Does everybody who’s acquainted with you want to kill you?”

“Just about.” He stood before Drew. Pain was carved into his face and his
eyes filled with a desolation Drew understood. “I’m asking you to see to Aimee
and my cub if I don’t come back. Keep them safe.”

Christ, what a situation. “Goes without saying, but you don’t look easy
to kill, unfortunately. You’ll make it, if only to be a pain in my ass. If
that’s the way you see how things stand, then we will have to set up a meet
between you and Bardo, before Rifkin gets to him, won’t we?”

“Right. I’ll just have to slip past a posse of weres slavering for my
blood, and go say hi to my very pissed off alpha.”

“You’re not the only one who aced strategic thinking, pal. Besides, I
have Sabine in my corner and a battalion of weres rearing to kick some Redmaven
ass. Present company I hope will be excluded, for now. You’ll get your
encounters with both Bardo and Rifkin.”

Micah shook his head in a show of doubt. “It won’t be a fair fight, you
saw how they jumped me three to one last night. The next time it’ll be more.
Rifkin intends to take me down before I can get to Bardo.”

Drew couldn’t believe he was going to say what he was about to. “Well,
we’ll just have to protect you like we’d do a she-wolf, won’t we, Mary?”

“Fuck you, Lunedare.”

“Sorry, you don’t do it for me, and since I turned down your proposition,
you’ll have time out to work on your vocab. You’re becoming repetitive.” Drew
rose to his feet, and followed his nose. “I’m going to help you for the simple
reason that you’ll hate it, but you’ll need my assistance for these weres
you’ve taken under your protection. I know it’s small and petty of me, but it’s
the only form of revenge I’ll get, for now.”

The scent of peaches and sugar baking swirled in the air, in a
mouth-watering siren call. He knew that’s where he’d find his mate. And he
wanted to spend a few quiet moments with her before they had to get on the
crazy merry-go-round that was their life.

Chapter Thirty-three

“Have you lost your damned mind?” Royal tossed back his braids and
laughed. It wasn’t the laughter of someone who was amused, but rather a hoot of
amazement at Drew’s ballsy proposal.

Heads turned. Drew looked up to see every freaking man in the bar sizing
them up. The curious barflies dropped their furtive gazes when their eyes met
the steely stares of the four hard-eyed weres sitting around the table tucked
into the far corner of the bustling room.

Why the hell had Royal picked this place? It was lousy with humans who
made him twitchy. Even among this rowdy crowd of bikers and fishermen, the four
weres stood out like a quartet of Rottweilers amongst a bunch of pit bulls.

Drew’s sense of smell was overloaded. The seedy waterfront dive where
Royal set up the meeting stank of alcohol and sweat. Adding to the mix was the
flowery perfume worn by the waitresses, who were dressed in abbreviated sailor
suits and sky-high stilettos.

The booze flowed freely and bullshit was tossed around like confetti. The
mood was jovial now, but it wouldn’t take much to become belligerent. The
crowded room carried the scars from many a bar fights. If one of these humans
got drunk enough and wanted to test their mettle with the outsiders, a brawl
was sure to ensue.

Royal was at his pissy best, eating a seafood and rice concoction without
a care in the world.

Drew knew better. He’d seen the flare of anger in his eyes when he caught
the scent of Micah, who issued an unvoiced challenge with his patented
come-get-some sneer.

Rafe, ever watchful, sat back sucking on a longneck, ready to spring into
action if the enmity between the two weres looking for an excuse to have a go
at each other escalated.

It was not going well.

Frustrated, Drew pinned Royal with an impatient glare. “Come on, Royal,
it makes sense.”

A knowing smirk flitted across Royal’s face. “To who, you? Sure it does.
You want to palm the Redmavens off on me like last year’s fruitcake. Sorry son,
you can’t re-gift this one.”

“Fuck this, I’m out of here.” Micah stood up so fast he sent his chair
slamming into the wall, his stance stiff with suppressed anger as he stalked
off. The testosterone-filled throng parted like the Red Sea to let him through.

Now Royal was amused, his eyes glittered with it. “Boy needs to be taught
some manners, Drew. You don’t come begging with hat in hand with an attitude. A
little humility would be in order.”

“Kiss my ass,” wafted from across the bar over Garth Brooks singing about
low places and the hum of conversation.

As mercurial as ever, Royal let out a genuine chuckle. “I could grow to
like your new BFF, but on principle I won’t lift a finger to help him. First,
his pack took my sister too. Secondly, I won’t go against Justice’s judgments.
I owe him big, and I’ve bared my neck and swore my allegiance to him when he
assumed the mantle of supreme alpha. It means something to me even though I
bend the rules a little.”

“A little?” Rafe scoffed. He set his beer down on the table and got to
his feet. “I’m going to go see what that hot-head is up to.” He looked over the
restive bar flies. “I think you two could handle this bunch on your own. Try
not to leave too many body parts behind.”

Time for the real negotiations to begin. Royal was jerking him around and
they both knew it.

“You know damned well I have Justice’s go-ahead on this. There are women
and children involved. I want them secured. Besides, Aimee is pregnant with Micah’s
cub. Nothing jeopardizes my family,” Drew declared flatly. Aimee’s uncertainty
about her cub’s future tore at him. What else could he do but try his level
best to remove the dread he saw in her eyes, and he’d help her secure a better
future for his niece or nephew.

All signs of humor died in Royal’s eyes. “Well hell. Shit, at least I got
Lily safe and sound.”

“Tell me about it. And just so you know, the reason your baby sister came
back unscathed is because Micah guarded her for most of the time. You could
almost say you owe him.”