Howl for It (22 page)

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Authors: Cynthia Shelly; Eden Laurenston

BOOK: Howl for It
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Lyle was almost at the cage now.
“That’s not true,” Kayla said and gave a fast, negative shake of her head. “He’s the one who found me and Lyle after—after our parents were killed. He saved us, got us help—”
Fast as a striking snake, Lyle’s hand shot through the cage bars. His claws were out, and they shoved right against Kayla’s throat. “And I’m the one who’s gonna kill you, too, if you don’t do exactly what I say.”
He was a dead man.
Gage rolled his shoulders. He let his own claws break from his fingertips. “I’m guessing you don’t want to die easily,” he said in a considering way as he studied the other shifter. “You want me to take my time with things. Strip away your flesh. Make you beg and scream before I give you that fucking sweet release of death.” The guy had to want that—or else he wouldn’t be touching Kayla.
Lyle’s green eyes narrowed. He was staring at Kayla, not Gage. And the bastard
needed
to move those damn claws away from her.
Gage’s nostrils widened. A new scent had hit the air. Blood. Kayla’s blood.
A snarl sprang from his lips, and he leapt those few feet that would take him to the side of the cage. He slashed out with his own claws, and if Lyle had moved even one second slower, he would have cut the guy’s hand off.
“Don’t fucking touch her. ”
Gage’s lethal order was the growl of a beast. His wolf wanted out.
Sure, wolves liked the scent of blood just as much as any shifter, but not when that scent belonged to a mate.
And Kayla was most definitely
his
.
When the blood scent came from a mate, the wolf within just wanted to destroy any threat near her.
Lyle had backed up and made sure to get clear of the cage. His cocky smile was back. “I thought it might be like that. I mean . . . I knew the truth about her for years. I figured if I just put her in the right wolf ’s path . . .”
Gage pulled Kayla away from the bars. He looked at her throat and lightly touched the flesh. Just scratches, but he understood the point Lyle had wanted to make.
I can kill her. You can watch.
Screw that.
This Lyle asshole could watch while Gage cut
him
open.
“What truth?” Kayla demanded as he pushed Gage’s hands away.
It was Lyle’s turn to laugh now. “Why, exactly, do you think your wolf married you? Because he took one look at you—and fell in love?” His voice mocked her.
How could they get out of the cage? How could he shut that jerk’s mouth?
Kayla’s breath heaved. “I don’t—”
“You’re a potential mate for a wolf shifter. Your scent is different, at least it always was to me.” Lyle’s gaze darted to Gage. “And I’m betting it is to him, too. One scent, just one deep breath, and I could tell you were . . . ripe.”
“Bastard!” Kayla screamed. “I don’t—”
“Of course you were only sixteen when we met, so I decided to give you some growing time. I knew you’d be the perfect lure that I needed.” He gave a little shrug. “It’s so hard to find potential mates for wolves these days . . . so hard, but in that bloodbath, I found
you.
”
Gage barely managed to hold his wolf back. The beast was clawing him from the inside. Ripping and tearing with his fury to break loose. “What do you want?” Because the jerk had to want something. Otherwise, Gage wouldn’t have woken in the cage.
He wouldn’t have woken at all.
“I want your pack—and you’re gonna give them to me.”
“Keep wishing, asshole.” He’d never turn on his pack. Pack was sacred. Pack was life.
Lyle’s green eyes narrowed. “This city’s mine now. I’m taking over.”
It would feel so good to smash the jerk’s face. He could already imagine the bones crushing beneath his fist. “Is that why you sent that human to carve up the showgirls? Cause you were taking over?” And using Hawk to do his dirty work for him.
Some humans didn’t mind getting their hands bloody. Some liked the blood—some, like Hawk.
Lyle just smiled and his canines lengthened. “I’ve always found humans to be very accommodating.”
“I’m gonna kill you.”
The snarled threat wasn’t Gage’s this time—it was Kayla’s. Now she’d broken through the shock and was going right for the rage. Good.
They’d need her rage.
“Doubtful.” Lyle didn’t look worried at all. The guy just shrugged and rocked back on his heels. “You’ve always rather lacked what I think of as the killer instinct. Some humans have it . . .”
Hawk came to mind. That bastard had refused to turn on Lyle all the way to the end. No matter how much pain Gage had given to him.
I gave him plenty. Payback for the women’s pain.
“Some don’t,” Lyle finished. His gaze hardened on Kayla. “But if you don’t do exactly as I say . . . I promise, I’ll bring your brother to you in pieces.”
Kayla sucked in a sharp breath. Hell. The brother was gonna be a problem for them. Gage hadn’t counted on that attachment when he’d been doing all his grand planning.
Lyle obviously had.
When Lyle’s gaze turned back to him, Gage knew the other shifter had planned for all sorts of fucking situations. “Your pack . . .” Lyle said, almost snarling. “I know you got them to pull from the city. To
hide.
That’s not gonna work. They aren’t gonna stay in the shadows and then jump out and try to take me down.”
Actually, they were. That was
his
plan.
“So you’ll take me to them.” Lyle crossed his arms over his chest, stretching his fancy suit. “And I’ll take them out.”
So there’d be only one top dog in Sin City.
“Not happening.” Gage hadn’t built that pack from the ground up just to watch the wolves get destroyed.
Lyle pointed to Kayla. “Then she’ll be the one in pieces.” He turned away. Strolled toward the door like he didn’t have a care in the world. “You’ve got an hour. So I’d suggest you start rethinking that position of yours.” He reached for the heavy door handle, then glanced back. “Because it’s so hard to find a good mate these days.”
Then he was gone. The metal clang of the shutting door echoed through the room, and Gage swore in disgust and fury.
That son of a bitch wasn’t going to push him into a corner. Lyle wasn’t destroying the pack that Gage had built, and Lyle damn well wasn’t hurting Kayla.
Not while I’m still breathing.
Kayla glanced over at him. For a tough hunter, she sure looked vulnerable. No,
broken
.
Especially with the faint drops of blood on her neck.
“He was . . . he was the only person who kept me going after my parents died.” Her voice was softer, huskier, than he’d ever heard before. “Lyle found me, alone in that house with their bodies. I was holding Jonah, trying to stop the bleeding and
save
him—”
Gage didn’t speak when she broke off and inhaled on a deep, shuddering breath. He just waited. She needed to put these pieces together faster. Didn’t she realize yet what had happened? As soon as he’d seen Lyle—as soon as he’d caught the bastard’s scent, Gage had known the truth.
“He—he said he was a hunter.” Her shoulders hunched even as she wrapped her arms around her stomach, as if she were trying to hug herself. Or to guard herself. “Th-that he’d tracked the wolf shifter. That he was there to help us . . .”
Only Gage bet that if Kayla hadn’t been so wild with her grief at the time, she would have seen the blood on the man’s fingers. Wild with grief... and too young.
You were only sixteen when we met, so I decided to give you some growing up time.
The bastard’s words rang through his mind. “You were just a kid. You didn’t realize—”
Her savior was the monster who’d been at the door. The monster who’d destroyed her life.
Her hands fell to her sides as she lifted her chin. The gesture almost broke his heart. “He . . . killed them? My parents?” Her fingers rose to rub against her shoulder. He knew a line of scars was beneath her shirt. Right in that exact spot. He’d kissed those scars during that too short night at the hotel. “Lyle was the wolf who tried to kill me?” she asked, but he knew the words weren’t a question, not really.
Kayla had realized the truth. After all Lyle had said, she had to know it now.
Dammit, he hated this. She shouldn’t look broken. Broken wasn’t his Kayla. Strong. Fierce.
That
was her. Not this lost shell. She looked like she’d just lost everything. She hadn’t. Didn’t she see that?
Gage caught her arms. Pulled her close. “When he cut you, he knew.” Sometimes, wolves could recognize potential mates from a scent, just like the bastard had said. But if blood was involved, oh, yeah, that recognition level amped way the hell up.
Blood always tells.
“Knew what?” A faint line was between her brows. “That I’m some predestined wolf mate? That’s bull—”
Now a little spark was coming back. He didn’t want a spark. He wanted a raging inferno. “There’s nothing predestined about it. Certain people are genetic matches for shifters. It’s DNA, not a merging of the souls.” Some human females could carry a hybrid shifter. Some couldn’t. Science.
But women like her were getting more rare each day. Had that been the reason Lyle first attacked her? Maybe he’d thought her mother was a match, but then he’d found an easier target just waiting there in the house for him.
“He won’t kill you.” Gage said it with certainty. His fingers flexed against her skin. Soft. Weak. Human.
“He won’t get the chance,” Kayla snarled right back and even though it looked like tears might be glistening in her eyes, her voice cut better than any shifter’s claws. Good. “I’ll take his heart first, then shove it right down that bastard’s throat.”
Ah . . . inferno.
There was the woman he wanted.
“Only if you beat me to the attack,” Gage said. She wouldn’t. “Now, sweetheart, it’s time for us to get the hell out of here.” Because while Lyle might not actually carry through on his threat to kill Kayla, the guy would no doubt get off on hurting her.
Won’t happen.
Or maybe Lyle would just kill her brother.
And she’ll break then.
Gage wouldn’t let her break.
There were whispers about wolves in the paranormal circles. Of all the supernaturals out there, the wolf shifters were the most unstable. The most given to insanity. Unless they had the security and the strength of a pack, their primal natures could take over with dangerous consequences.
Wolves weren’t meant to be alone.
But Lyle was.
And from what Gage had seen, Lyle was most definitely psychotic. The sooner he was dead, the better.
 
Lyle walked slowly down the hallway. He didn’t glance back at the holding cell. There was no point in looking back.
There never was.
Kayla knew the truth about him now. Good. He was getting rather tired of hiding himself.
A hunter passed and nodded his head toward Lyle. Lyle’s back teeth clenched. They were all getting on his nerves.
Years . . .
years
he’d spent playing attack dog for Uncle Sam. Being the federal government’s bitch.
At first, he’d hunted alone. So much darkness. So much blood.
“Sir.” Another hunter slid by him. This one even gave him some dumbass salute. A new recruit sent up from some boot camp in the South. Did this look like the fucking military?
Lyle turned a corner and stalked into his office. He slammed the door, and realized his hands were shaking.
The wolf inside wanted out. He’d denied the beast for too long. He needed to hunt. To kill.
Not to hide in some dank hole in the ground. Not to stand back while the blood flowed.
He liked the blood too much to just stand back. Liked the kills. The screams . . .
Kayla’s mother had screamed. So sweetly. She’d screamed and begged, and so had Kayla. The beast had loved their cries.
The beast had wanted to rip Kayla open, and he’d slashed with his claws. That night, he’d known only blind rage and bloodlust, until he’d caught the sweet scent in the air. Until the beast had realized that Kayla Kincaid wasn’t just prey. She was something more.
Something far more precious.
The man had pulled back the beast. Stopped the slaughter. Of course, it had been too late then. Her parents had been dead. Her brother barely breathing. And Kayla—she’d been terrified.
Lyle paced to his desk. Sat down heavily in the chair, then looked down at the claws that had burst from his fingertips.
A slip. He was having more and more of them lately. If he wasn’t careful, the hunters would all learn the truth about him.

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