Loyal Wolf (25 page)

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Authors: Linda O. Johnston

BOOK: Loyal Wolf
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“But—”

“I'll think about it, too, Myra. I promise.” Her mind wrapped momentarily around her partner, Jimmy Korling, then unwrapped him immediately. Not only was he more junior within the department than she was, but he'd seemed much too accepting of Sheriff Frawley's position. Plus, he wasn't wild about having women as equals, let alone superior officers.

But there were others in the department who'd work out a lot better than he would.

She would start making a list.

“I'll talk to you later,” she told Myra. “Right now, I need to head for the department. I'll be officially on duty soon.”

Not for another hour, but she didn't need to tell her friend that.

What she'd do for that hour she wasn't sure, but—

No sooner had she exited the County Administration Building and walked out onto the sidewalk than a car pulled up to the curb beside her. She glanced inside.

It was Jock.

She ignored how her heart started racing, how her mouth almost curved up into an automatic smile, and just nodded. “Hi,” she said. “Are you leaving today?”

“Yes, we are.” He'd stopped and opened the window. Lord, did he look handsome in his white knit shirt, with a hint of dark shadow at his cheeks and chin.

“So everything's in order. That's good.”

“Nothing's final till the prosecutions finish successfully, but it looks good for now. My commanding officers will be in touch to thank you again. And I want to talk to you about that.”

“No need to thank me. Stopping those miserable anarchists before they hurt anyone is all I wanted.”

All she started out wanting. Now, if she was honest with herself, she knew she wanted some kind of ongoing relationship with Jock.

But that wasn't going to happen.

Even so, she felt a warm glow inside when he said, “Look, this isn't the place for us to talk. Grab some coffee with me, please?” He looked serious, and she figured he, too, just wanted to thank her—but she should probably give him the courtesy of letting him say goodbye gracefully.

“All right. Where—”

“How about your house?”

Interesting. Did he want to indulge in one last love-making session for the road?

Well, if so, maybe that would be the best goodbye she could get. “All right.”

“Get in and I'll drive us there. No need for you to make the coffee. We'll stop for some on the way.”

Their conversation in the car was all about the case. Everything was coming together well.

“And all of the other shifters who came,” she said at one point as if she was discussing a standard form of weapon that was used that night. “I assume they really helped to make all this successful. It looked that way.”

“That's for sure.”

They stopped at the town's only chain coffee shop and used the drive-through. She ordered a mocha, figuring she deserved the sweet chocolate considering the sourness she was about to experience. A short while later, they were at her house.

This was probably a very bad idea. On the other hand, here they were and she might as well enjoy what she could of this goodbye session, however it occurred.

She didn't wait for him to open the door before getting out of the car and striding up the front walk to her home. She opened the front door and waved for him to go in first.

And closed her eyes briefly as the tall, muscular, amazingly good-looking guy brushed by her, undoubtedly for the last time.

She showed him into her living room and sat down herself at one end of her fluffy, familiar sofa. She put her mocha down on the coffee table in front of them and waited for him to begin.

She expected thanks and congrats and all sorts of standard stuff people would say to strangers they would never see again.

And was shocked to hear him say, “Kathlene, I've got a proposition for you.”

She had raised her chin expecting a blow, but now she cocked her head and stared at him. “Like what?”

“Let me preface this by saying that I've run this by some of my superiors at Alpha Force. They're all impressed by how you saw things that other people didn't, or chose not to see. How you put yourself in jeopardy of losing your job and worse by taking a stand to protect the public and never backing down.”

They
were impressed. What about him?

It was as if he heard her. “Of course I was sure to make that clear to them quite a bit as we were discussing what I'm about to tell you. I'm the first to admit how impressed I've been—even though you've driven me nuts at times by putting yourself in dangerous situations to make your points. They've all been good points, by the way.”

At least now she knew why her putting herself in peril bothered him so much. But— “Stop buttering me up and tell me what you're up to.” Now she was filled with suspicion, even though her heart felt like it would burst from his compliments.

“Sure. Here it is. Why don't you come to Ft. Lukman and join Alpha Force—as a nonshifting member, of course. You'd be ideal, as a former deputy sheriff, for training members—both shifters and not—in measures to protect themselves and others, and ensuring that justice is served. Oh, and looking for problems and speaking up when they find them.”

Ft. Lukman. That was where Alpha Force was headquartered. She would see more of Jock. A lot more.

But he hadn't mentioned that. Not at all. Maybe he didn't really want to see her again. “Why are you suggesting this?” she asked. “Do you and your fellow Alpha Forcers just want to make sure I keep my mouth shut about what I know about the unit?”

“Nope. I already trust you not to announce to the world that we're a bunch of shapeshifters. That could really harm the unit, and I don't think you'd want to do that. Besides, if you did, everyone would consider you a nut case.”

She laughed. “I think a lot of people already do, and I've never even mentioned shapeshifters.” But then she grew serious. “I...I don't know, Jock. I'm surprised that I'd even like to consider the offer. I just turned down an offer that might have made me sheriff here, and that's more appropriate.”

“Maybe. But...well, okay, let me fill you in on my ulterior motive. The thing is, I've fallen in love with you, Kathlene. And if you might care for me at all, it'd be a good thing for you to see more of Alpha Force in action. We've a lot of shifters married to nonshifters, and those relationships work well, believe it or not.”

She felt her eyes widen. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Not yet, but that's in my plans if things go as well as I think they will. And I know now very well how you'd handle yourself if any of our assignments wound up putting you in danger. You'd protect me.”

She didn't recall rising to her feet or seeing him rise, but she was suddenly in his arms. His kiss was soft and exploratory and still caused waves of heat to pulse through her.

She soon pulled away and looked up into his eyes. “Let's discuss this later, okay? Right here. Can you stay here one more night?”

“I think so,” he said softly, “but—”

“I want to give you a night to convince me.” She grinned. “And, by the way, I don't think it'll be hard to do. I've fallen in love with you, too, Jock Larabey. You and the sweet wolf inside you. And—”

She couldn't finish since his mouth was on hers again.

But she had a feeling that she would soon be moving to Ft. Lukman...and a whole new, wonderful life.

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from DARK WOLF RETURNING by Rhyannon Byrd.

Prologue

L
ove sucked. And it hurt. Like a bitch.

Carla Reyes believed this with every fiber of her being, because she'd learned it the hard way. By experience. She bore the internal scars to prove it.

But she wasn't alone. As far as tales of pain and betrayal and heartbreak went, she knew her specific story wasn't all that different from what had happened to thousands—make that millions—of other women around the world. At the emotional level, of course. Obviously, the fact that her mother was a werewolf, which made Carla a half-breed, added a certain edge to the situation. As did the fact that the object of her need was a male so completely and utterly alpha wolf, he'd once made other deadly Lycans literally scurry out of his path.

Now, from what she'd heard, he intimidated everyone he came across, no matter their species. Everyone but
her,
that is. She'd taught herself to feel nothing where Elijah Daniel Drake was concerned. And it had worked for a long time. Until her shields had been blasted to hell and back almost two weeks ago, when she'd been taken prisoner by a rival werewolf pack and overheard their battle plans before making her escape.

Now the time had come for him to make things right. Both for her...and for Eli's birth pack, the Maryland-based Silvercrest Lycans. Failure wasn't an option, because failure could mean the death of not only the pack, but also her friends and their loved ones. And her fellow Bloodrunners meant too much to her to sacrifice because of misplaced pride.

As Carla drove into the star-filled night, she was so tired she could almost taste the sweetness of sleep, but refused to give in. For two weeks, she'd had to struggle through injury and fatigue to find him. Tonight, he felt closer—within her reach—and she knew this was it. She was currently making her way across Louisiana, and within a mere matter of days, her search would finally be over.

Then she was going to do what she should have done the moment he'd abandoned her. She was going to end the pain once and for all. Break the connection, like a bone fracturing beneath the force of a brutal, crushing blow.

She was going to make him cut her loose...and be free.

After that, things would be...easier. She would get on with her life, and find a way to forget that she'd ever even known Eli Drake.

Were there risks with her plan? Of course. Weren't there always when it was something that mattered?

Her life as a Bloodrunner—a hunter of rogue wolves who had taken a liking for human flesh—was nothing but one continual risk after another. And now, thanks to Silvercrest enemies who were planning to attack the pack, which was already weakened after catastrophes it had suffered at the hands of Eli's own father, an inevitable war was on its way. A bloody battle on a scale she knew might very well wipe out every person she'd ever loved and cared about. Her band of brothers, in the truest sense of the word.

They needed Eli and his fellow mercenaries on their side. Needed the mercs' strength and expertise to help train the members of the pack who were willing to fight. But once he'd served his purpose, she was making this happen. Ripping him from her heart and her thoughts for the final time. For forever...

Even if it killed her.

Chapter 1

T
wo days later...

E
li Drake blinked his bleary eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Shit
. Had he drank so much he was hallucinating? If so, his pickled mind couldn't have come up with a more stunning, confounding vision. The hole-in-the-wall, small town Texas bar where he and his crew had landed for the night was a decent enough place to settle for a few hours while they tossed back some liquid therapy—and after the last assignment they'd taken, they'd definitely needed it. Hell, they could have drowned themselves in whiskey and beer for days on end, and it wouldn't have been enough to wipe out the horror of what they'd seen in that little South American village.

So, yeah, the woman who'd just walked into the bar
had
to be a by-product of his inebriation.

Only...as far as he could recall, he'd only had two whiskeys. For a man his size, even if he had been human, that wouldn't have been enough to make him start seeing...imagining...
Damn it
. He couldn't even get the words out within the privacy of his own mind.

Maybe it's a stress vision? I probably just need a break from my shitty day job.

Yeah, that was a better explanation than the alcohol, and extreme stress
had
been the riding theme of his life these past few weeks. Months.
Years.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Eli focused on forcing the vision away. He didn't need crap like that screwing with his head. Sure, he was going to have to face her soon enough, considering he and his men were finally headed back to the mountains where he'd grown up, to his hometown of Shadow Peak, where the Silvercrest Lycans lived. But he wasn't ready for it now. Not tonight.

Facing Carla Reyes again after three years of banishment was something that would take battle armor and a heavy duty, steel-lined cup to protect his balls.

Fate, however, apparently didn't give a damn.

When the Lycan to his left softly swore under his breath, his deep voice rough with appreciation, Eli choked back a biting curse. Christ, he wasn't imagining things if others could see her, too. She was really there. In the flesh. Carla-Fucking-Reyes.

His next indrawn breath confirmed it, his dick hardening with ridiculous ease beneath the fly of his jeans. The soft, sleepy, feminine moan that followed made him look down, and he was momentarily surprised to find a woman straddling his lap, her face planted against his chest. He'd completely forgotten she was there, but then, it'd been a while since she'd spoken. He couldn't recall her name, but she wasn't in any shape to remind him. She was out cold, a line of drool slipping from the corner of her pink lips.

Hmm... Classy chick.

With a jerk of his chin, he signaled Kyle Maddox, his second-in-command and the guy who'd spotted Carla, to deal with the comatose blonde. But it wasn't the woman on his lap that had Kyle's attention, his nostrils flaring as he pulled in the Runner's scent. Eli knew the moment his friend pegged her as a half-blood Lycan, his dark brows slowly rising on his forehead.

Eli gestured again to the blonde in his lap. “Take her.”

Kyle snorted as he moved to his feet and lifted the woman into his arms. “And do what with her?”

Keeping his gaze locked on Carla, Eli said, “Just make sure she gets somewhere safe for the night. I don't want one of these assholes in here taking advantage of her.”

“She's definitely a local girl, so I'll talk to the servers. Maybe one of them can take her home with them.”

“Good,” he muttered, impatient for Kyle to get the hell away from him before Carla reached the table. “Just do it.”

Carla had spotted him in the crowd and was headed his way, her gaze sliding toward the nearby group of Lycans standing at the bar—Sam, James, and Lev—who were watching her with unmistakable interest. Even Kyle, who had moved over to join them with the blonde in his arms, had his full attention focused on Carla. She looked exhausted, but gorgeous. At five-six, she was just tall enough that she didn't look like a child when standing beside a man of Eli's height, but was still...petite. Lithely muscled and battle-scarred, but somehow still incredibly feminine. Big brown eyes flecked with green and framed by thick lashes. Slim, delicate nose. Waves of thick, silky hair the colors of sunshine and honey and gold, the soft bangs falling across her brow. She was, quite simply, stunning. The most perfect, alluring, sensual female he'd ever known.

And, Jesus, that mouth of hers had always been his undoing. Full, sexy, sweet. Velvety and pink, like the petals of a flower. He wanted to devour her. Kiss her until he drew blood, which wasn't surprising. From the moment she'd hit adulthood, this little half-breed had always drawn the hunger of both the man
and
the beast inside him. A hunger that was as visceral and dark as it was insatiable. How he'd fought it for so many years, when he'd been living with the pack, he didn't know. He should have been given a damn medal for not falling on her like a rabid, sex-starved animal the instant she came of age—but he'd somehow kept himself under tight control, his fears for her safety the only thing that had a chance in hell of keeping him in line.

He'd been a goddamn saint when it came to Reyes...until that last week before his banishment.

As if they were some kind of penance for his sins, the memories of her from that week still woke him in the dead of night in a sweat, filled with an aching need that was primal, savage, and raw. So powerful he could taste it in the back of his throat. Here he was, three years later, and he still dreamt about her every night he didn't drink himself into a stupor.

Studying her expression, Eli wondered if she was about to make him pay for the carnal things that had happened that week. Is that why she'd tracked him down? To tell him she'd rather see him dead before letting him return to the pack? Because that was definitely hatred he could see burning in her beautiful, narrowed eyes.

Shoving his emotional reaction to her presence to the back of his mind, he focused instead on simply watching her...waiting. Eating up the sight of her in the tight jeans and T-shirt and battered hiking boots.

At a quick glance, you would never guess she was a hunter of deadly werewolves. Certainly, the clueless humans in the bar, who had no idea they had shape-shifters in their midst, would have never guessed she was both battle and weapons trained. The Silvercrest Lycans would be surprised to know that much of that training had come from Eli himself, since it'd been in secret. Every aspect of their complicated “friendship” had been private and secret and forbidden.

God, he'd been so drawn to her. Though he was older than her, she hadn't been a typical giddy twenty-two-year-old when their relationship had developed. She'd been sweet, but reserved. Eager for friends, and yet, wary to trust. But she'd trusted him. Past tense.

Eli had never told a soul about them, and he could only assume that Carla had done the same. Though not for the same reasons.

He moved to his feet when she reached the table, fighting the powerful urge to pull her into his arms, and the next thing he knew her tiny fist was launching toward his mouth.
Whack!
Damn, she'd hit him so hard it jerked his head back, the coppery taste of his blood instantly filling his mouth.

Softly laughing under his breath, Eli lifted his hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his lip as he brought his gaze back to hers.

“What the hell is so funny?” Her soft words vibrated with fury.

“Nothing,” he murmured, thinking he'd come close to getting what he wanted. Someone's blood had been drawn, just not hers. And not in the way he'd hoped for.

Contempt clouded her expression. “You never could just give an honest answer to a question, could you?”

“Insults and accusations already?” he drawled, sliding back into his chair. The worst thing in the world he could do was let her know how the sight of her affected him, especially when he could feel his own angry frustration with fate and life and her blatant hatred building inside him, desperate for release. “That didn't take long.”

She drew in a sharp breath at his snide tone, the skin around her eyes tightening as she took the seat across from him and asked a passing server for a Scotch. It was clear from the look on her face that she hadn't meant to launch into the topic of their past. She was irritated with herself that she had, and seemed determined to get to the point of this strange, unexpected visit. “You know about your dad?”

“That he's dead?” He lifted a hand, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I heard about it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a painful mix of emotions flashed through her eyes before she managed to bank them. “And you didn't think to come home?” she asked in a careful tone.

Brows drawn together, he tried to reason out why she thought the death of his psychotic father would herald his immediate return. Had the entire pack thought he would come crawling back the moment he learned that dear ol' daddy had staged a bloodthirsty coup that resulted in the death of the pack's entire governing body, the League of Elders? An attack that would have led to Stefan Drake's total control of the Silvercrest Lycans, if not for the help of the half-breeds his racist father had tried so hard to turn the pack against.

The League of Elders might have banished Eli for the unsanctioned kill he'd made on one of the rapists who'd attacked his sister three years ago...but they weren't the only reason he'd stayed away. Hell, they weren't even at the top of the list. No, his reasons for staying away had far more to do with... Well, with things he spent a lot of time trying not to think about. Things he was still trying to figure out how to deal with.

And every damn one of those things had to do with the woman sitting across from him.

Voice low, he finally responded to her question. “Once I heard that you and Eric and Elise were all right, I didn't see any reason to rush home. But I didn't plan on staying away forever, Rey. I was coming back.”

“When?” she asked, as the server set her drink on the table.

“Now, if you can believe it. That's where we're headed.”

“Bullshit.” She gave a bitter laugh. “You know what I think? I think you were waiting for
me
to come to
you
. And here I am,” she offered with a sharp smile, spreading her arms wide, and he couldn't help but notice the way the cotton shirt stretched tight across her mouthwatering breasts. Then she leaned forward, bracing her palms flat on the rickety little table with its scarred surface and dirty ashtray, and lowered her voice. “But I'm not here to beg for myself, Eli. I just need you and your ragtag little group to come back with me and do what you do best.”

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