Savage Sanctuary: A Dire Wolves Mission (The Devil's Dires Book 2)

C
opyright
© 2016 by Ellis Leigh

Edited by Silently Correcting Your Grammar, LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

E
ven as the
playboy of the Dire Wolves, Levi isn’t exactly a soft touch. He likes his liquor, his women, and his photographs…but he also has an affinity for sharp knives and claws. What starts as an assignment to investigate humans finding their way onto a pack’s land quickly becomes something darker, more dangerous, and a whole lot hotter than he expected.

A
my refuses
to leave her pack behind, but living in the small town at the base of their mountain gives her enough freedom not to feel trapped. So does running the diner she owns and loves. But someone’s been watching her a little too closely, and it’s not the handsome wolf shifter who crashes into her kitchen one night looking at her as if she is the last woman on earth.

O
ne soldier
who’s never cared enough stay, one woman whose roots run too deep to leave, and a stalker with more than just peeping on his mind. In the world of the Dire Wolves, a simple mission means standing your ground and fighting to the end. But this time, a single glance blows simple right off the mountain and forces Levi to run when he’d rather stand and fight…just as long as his mate is running with him.

O
ne soldier
, one fight…one chance at forever.

“
A
winter
without snow is bullshit. As is this so-called mission.” Levi took a swig of his beer, slamming the bottle onto the table when he was through. The cold liquid soothed his thirst but not his ire. Staking out a rival shifter pack for the umpteenth night in a row was definitely not his idea of a good time.

Mammon laughing certainly didn’t help his mood. “You’re so impatient. How can you be as old as you are and not have learned the thrill of anticipation?”

And wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Although Levi would argue with his pack brother that he did, in fact, have patience, he was sick of spinning his wheels on Mammon’s personal obsession. Tired of being forced to stay in the same place instead of being able to roam the way he wanted. The way he craved. But they sat. And Mammon watched. And Levi grew more bored by the second.

Besides, Levi wasn’t dumb enough to buy Mammon’s anticipation line. Not considering where they were or what they were doing. Even while teasing Levi about his own struggles with waiting around doing nothing, the big shifter couldn’t help but slide his eyes around the bar, probably looking for any sign that the group of shifters across the room was up to something. Up to anything, really. The guy had a hard-on the size of Montana for the newest pack in the area.

Levi would rather get a hard-on for one of the hot little waitresses popping around the joint. “Nothing’s doing, man. They are literally sitting there not doing a damn thing, like they do every Friday night.”

“Fuck off, kid.” Mammon shot Levi a warning glare before going back to doing what he’d been doing…staring at a group of shifters drinking beer. The guy had been obsessed with the crew from New York since they’d first shown up in his town. Granted, an entire pack of big, loud Irish and American shifters appearing out of nowhere and basically taking over the underground business in the area wasn’t necessarily normal, but they weren’t doing anything to endanger the shifter world. So they fleeced a few humans now and again. There were worse things.

“You need to let this one go.” Levi wasn’t usually so vocal about…well, anything that went against the grain. But a year of being tied to one place was about eleven months too long—and he was tired of following Mammon’s conspiracy theories.

“You’ll get your balls cut off, son,” Thaus said, probably surprising both men at the table since the two spun to stare at him. Thaus was bigger than the rest of the Dire Wolves, more military, too. In a pack of strategically trained wolf shifters who tended to speak with their claws instead of their mouths, Thaus was still a standout as the silent, broody type.

Of course, Dire Wolves—a breed of wolf shifters long thought extinct by the general shifter population—had never been known for waxing poetic. The legends surrounding them tended to be more based on battles and wars, enemies vanquished and lives saved as they defended their kind.

But Levi had decided long ago that Thaus took that Dire-Wolf-broody persona to a whole other level. The shifter was just…quiet. Unless he was blathering on about military strategy and procedures—then the bastard could go on for hours. Or maybe that was Levi’s perception based on his own boredom when Thaus started down that path. He doubted the shifter had spoken enough words to account for
hours
in his entire life.

But Levi talked plenty. “If my balls are all you’ve got to be worried about, man, you need a little more action in your life.”

Mammon snorted a laugh and Thaus raised an eyebrow. That was about as much reaction as Levi expected. Good goddamn, the boredom was killing him.

Levi scoped out the bar again as he finished his beer, not for the other shifters like Mammon, though. No, he was looking for tail. Preferably of the shifter variety. He had the itch to take a shewolf back to his hotel or, even better, into a dark corner of the club and get her on her knees. Maybe a little secret stand-up sex in the restroom. Something. Being stuck in fucking Fort Worth with Mammon for almost a year as they watched a pack of wolf shifters be nothing more than loan sharks and mob-style enforcers had about killed his social life. He needed to get off—and then figure out how to escape this town.

A blonde across the bar met his roving gaze and smiled. Even with the distance and the people filling the space between them, he could sense the human rolling off her. Not his favorite by any stretch, but he could deal. Long legs, short skirt, hair brushing the top of her flat-but-not-unappealing ass. Yeah, he could deal with that just fine.

He sat deeper into his seat, spread his knees a bit, and gave her a head nod in welcome.

Mammon laughed again, the fucker. “Is that the best you got, kid?”

“I’m not your kid, and my style works just fine, thanks.”

“Your style?” Mammon bumped Thaus in the arm. “Are you listening to this?”

“I’m trying very hard not to, no.” Thaus growled when Mammon hit him again, the bigger man going from broody and bored to downright pissed off. “Hit me again, and I’ll take your fucking arm off.”

Mammon only laughed harder. That is, until the blonde appeared before them.

“Hi,” she said, leaning on the edge of the table by Levi. Tall, sexy, and obviously a little tipsy, she was exactly what he needed for the night.

“Hey. I’m Levi.”

She glanced around the table. “Who’re your friends?”

“Not important.” Levi grabbed her hand, running his fingers over the back of it. “Want to dance?”

“No,” she said with a smile, bending at the waist to whisper—quite loudly, really—in his ear. “I want to get out of here.”

Her hand was on his thigh, and her breath was feathering across his neck. If that wasn’t a sign that she was interested in more than just a drink and a grind on the dance floor, he didn’t know what was. He reached down to move her hand higher, giving her a grin.

“I think that can be arranged.”

But she wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking at Thaus. And that was a huge mistake.

“You look really familiar.” She leaned across the table, practically reaching for him, using Levi’s thigh for balance. “Do I know you?”

Levi groaned, as did Mammon. Thaus was a lot of things—a good leader, a great soldier, and a badass weaponry expert—but he was not receptive to attention from humans. Nor was he able to control his rage.

Thaus exploded from the table, toppling his chair behind him. Something that barely fazed the other Dires. They were used to him; of course, others weren’t. Especially not humans. The girl jumped back with a scream, nearly falling over as she tried to scramble away from what Levi was sure she saw as a threat.

But that wasn’t enough for the enraged shifter. “Get the fuck away from us.”

The girl’s eyes widened, and her fear wafted over the stale, air-conditioned air of the place. Strong enough that even Levi could smell it. “I’m sorry. I just—”

“You just nothing. Go.”

So she went, as Levi expected her to. No one could stand up to Thaus when he was having one of his temper tantrums. No one, except maybe Levi himself.

“Thanks for that, jackass.” Levi sat back, glaring as the bar patrons stared at the trio, refusing to overreact to Thaus’ ridiculous posturing. Not that Thaus seemed to give a fuck.

The bigger shifter righted his chair and sat down hard, leaning toward Levi. Looking ready to beat the shit out of the next person who crossed him. “Look, kid. We’ve all put up with your bullshit over the past way-too-fucking-long, but I’m done.”

And didn’t that sound like a bunch of bullshit. “Done with what?”

“You. Saving your ass every time you screw up a mission because you don’t pay enough attention. Tracking you down the mornings after you choose pussy over your brothers.”

“Thaus,” Mammon started, his voice oddly balanced between concern and calm. But Levi certainly didn’t need calm, and he had a feeling neither did Thaus.

“Saving my ass? When have you ever saved my ass? It was me who pulled Mammon here out of that building collapse back in Sri Lanka. And it was me who dug through about a thousand pounds of rubble to get to Phego after you sent him into a cave without checking for stability.” Levi leaned forward, his growl pronounced under his words. “And it was me who killed the fucking werewolf that almost tore your goddamned arm off.”

Mammon sighed. “Guys, we’re drawing attention.”

But Thaus was too mad to pay attention to Mammon’s warning.

“You think you’re some badass, kid? You think you can handle a mission on your own? Because out of all seven of us, you’re the only one who hasn’t, and this shit is why. You just invited over a fucking human during a stakeout on a shifter pack.” Thaus sat back as his phone rang, still eyeing Levi with disdain. “Stop thinking with your dick and get with the program before you kill someone.”

“Answer the fucking phone,” Mammon said, glaring from one man to the other. “Before you two blow what little cover we have here.”

“You’ve been so far up that pack’s ass, there is no more cover.” Levi grabbed his beer and growled, ready to do more than fight with words, but the warning look on his teammate’s face made him pause…and roll his eyes. But he didn’t really feel like acknowledging that.

“Go,” Thaus said into the phone. The club was too loud for Levi to hear the voice on the other end. Still, when Thaus stood and strode toward the door, Levi and Mammon followed. Stakeout canceled—time for real work, it seemed.

Centuries of battling every form of supernatural had taught Levi many lessons, the biggest being that sometimes he needed to bite back his pride and do what was needed. Right then, he needed to follow Thaus to find out what the new job was because there was no way the stiffness to his shoulders and the need to go someplace quiet wasn’t about a new mission.

When they finally caught up with Thaus, he was standing in the parking lot at a sort of parade rest, listening intently. He looked up as the two moved closer and mouthed the word
Dante
.

Mate of the president of their political ecosphere, Dante was basically their boss. He took the calls from packs who needed assistance, doled out jobs, and made sure the North American wolf shifters stayed controlled and concealed. The dude was like Charlie in that
Charlie’s Angels
show. A voice on the line telling them all what to do.

“Are you all there?” Dante’s calm voice came through the speaker of the device, his smooth way of speaking hampered by the tininess of the cellular technology.

“Affirmative.” Thaus glanced from Mammon to Levi before refocusing on the phone. “Please repeat the orders.”

“We’ve received a call from a pack in Hope Ridge, North Carolina, which is located on the western side of the state. As you may know, that area is rife with human travelers because of the Appalachian Mountains. The pack interacts with the local humans in business needs, but the main property is deep enough into the forest to avoid most human hikers and passersby. They’ve recently discovered scent trails around the fringes of their land, though. Human scent trails.”

“Encircling them?” Mammon asked.

“They believe so, though the terrain makes it difficult to be sure. They’re asking for assistance to investigate the issue.”

Thaus grunted. “Why are we being called out for a simple human infringement on pack land? Couldn’t the local Feral Breed chapter or a few Cleaners handle it?”

Mammon nodded, though Levi didn’t care either way. The Feral Breed was the motorcycle club the president of the North American Lycan Brotherhood, Blasius Zenne, used to police nomad and pack wolves. They were usually cool guys—a little on the pack side of things without admitting they were a pack—but they lacked the training of a true military unit. The Cleaners were more tactical and trained, but they tended to be more policelike…if the police were really good at hiding bodies and cleaning up crime scenes to make sure forensic teams never learned of shifter involvement.

The Dires were a different breed and at a different level. If Dante was calling them for this job, there was a reason for it.

And Dante didn’t wait to tell them that reason. “The pack has an Omega.”

Levi’s chest tightened as the pieces came together. Omega wolves were powerful female shifters considered true blessings to their packs. They were rare and coveted, sometimes to the point of obsession. Just the year before, his team had fought in a battle against a group of shifters determined to kidnap Omegas and breed them like farm animals or some shit. The sick bastards.

But on a more personal note than just shifter lore, Omegas were precious to his brothers and him. The all-male pack believed Omegas to be kin, to be the female side of the Dire genes. Something even the legends didn’t mention. The seven remaining Dires in the world made up Levi’s pack and worked closely with the political leaders of wolf shifter populations to keep Omegas safe and fight the darker supernatural forms a standard shifter couldn’t handle. But the Omega shewolves always came first in their battles.

If an Omega was in trouble, Levi was going to help.

“What’s the plan?” Levi asked. Thaus raised an eyebrow, but Levi just glared back. Sure, he wasn’t normally one to volunteer for more work, but when it came to Omegas, he felt the need to dive into the action. More so than with any other kind of mission.

“I need a single man to investigate the pack claims and secure the Omega,” Dante replied, not missing a beat. “If more men are needed to eliminate the threat, so be it.”

Mammon wiped a thumb across his lips, looking distracted. “I could go—”

“No,” Levi interrupted, earning another surprised look from Thaus. “I’ve got this. I’ll hit the road tonight.”

Dante responded before his brothers could. “Very good, Leviathan. I’ll send the coordinates to your phone. Be quick, though. President Blasius does not want another Omega in danger.”

Neither did Levi. “Affirmative.”

Dante hadn’t been disconnected from the call for two seconds when Mammon started up.

“You really think you can handle this alone?”

Levi bit back a sigh. No way would that be seen as mature and capable, even if the irritating old fuck deserved to be sighed at. “I’ve got this.”