The Last Werewolf (The Weres of Europe) (14 page)

Signaling his intent to Rik, whose face had paled and was coated with a light sheen of nervous sweat, Leevi did a partial shift. His claws extended, his eyes went wolf vision, and his size gained three to four inches. Where there had been a light coating of blond fuzz on his arms now grew white fur over hardened muscles that would withstand any and all assault.

They’d have to be quick, or risk one of the men raising the alarm.

Crouching and sneaking into a lower position on the steps, Leevi calculated the distance carefully, with the measured experience of an Alpha. With a sideways glance he saw Rik near him, but out of touching range, looming in the shadows and watching the two men by the wooden table as they jested and played the game completely unaware of the danger lurking in the dark. Rik’s brown hair gleamed a little in the faint light coming from behind them, and Leevi saw he hadn’t morphed into a werewolf. He knew the reason for it must have been because Rik had not lived with shifters for long and was unaccustomed to it.

Now it was too late to ponder such things.

Biting back the growl that his throat threatened to emit, Leevi leaped across the room.

His feet landed right smack in the middle of the rickety table that creaked and broke under his sudden weight. The men were startled and scrambled to get up on their feet, but their reflexes were slow due to the drink. Leevi kicked the man on his left hard on the chest, and he went down, wheezing and holding his breath.

“Motherfucker,” the other man shouted, but his voice was suddenly cut off as his body twitched, his eyes glazed over, and he fell forward toward Leevi, who jumped off the table to let the guy slump over it, unconscious. Behind him stood Rik who was holding a banged up skillet, staring at Leevi with a look both embarrassed and mischievous.

“Christ,” Leevi exclaimed, rolling his eyes in mock admonishment.

Rik had the audacity to shrug impassively. Then his eyes widened. “Leevi, watch out.”

Spinning on his heels, Leevi jolted into action to hit out before his brain had caught up with him, and so he landed right on the dazed guy’s arm just as he was reaching for his radio. Leevi yanked the radio from the guy’s belt nimbly and made sure it was off. “Idiot,” he murmured, grabbing the man’s lapels to pull him a bit, and hit him across the face. The man grunted, and his eyes closed as he too passed out.

“Wow, steady there, Rambo,” Rik quipped behind him amusedly, clapping him on the shoulder in an encouraging gesture.

Leevi glared at Rik, but saw no fear in his eyes. Where lesser wolves and men would have trembled before his stare, he was not frightened or deterred. Their bond was that of love, not force or violence. Happy with the knowledge that no matter how scary his wolfish or manly behavior could become Rik wasn’t afraid of him, Leevi was content as he released his shift to turn back, and knew that he’d agree to whatever arrangement Rik would suggest as long as he got to be a part of his life. No way could he let his mate go again. Not ever.

All of these ponderings must have shown on his face because Rik’s features softened and his smile made Leevi’s heart flutter. “Leevi, I…”

He couldn’t wait any longer. Closing the distance between them with two easy steps, Leevi wound his right hand to Rik’s nape, twisting his fingers lovingly in the soft brown curls, and pulled the man tight to his chest, kissing his lips with his own, breathless and flushed with want. For a heartbeat Rik tensed, but when Leevi’s tender tongue teased the seam of his lips, coaxing him to open up, Rik relaxed into the embrace, parted his lips, and eased into the kiss.

For an interminable time their bodies were entwined, hands and groin seeking contact, and their tongues danced together lazily, in a slow waltz of passion.
Too long
. Leevi wanted this feeling to last a lifetime, his lifetime, until the end of his days. But would Rik ever choose him over everything else in his life, like his mysterious catnip-woman?

That made Leevi halt his hug and kiss, lowering his gaze to the floor, and the evident tent in Rik’s jeans.

“Leevi,” Rik whispered, his tone shaky and uncertain. “I never stopped loving you. You know that, right?”

Oh, how he wanted to believe those words were a promise. But Leevi had doubts that no articulation could dispel. “I know, Rik. I…I love you too.” Taking a step back—the longest and hardest in his life—Leevi shook his head. “But love isn’t enough. And we have other priorities for the time being.”

Narrowing the gap between them, Rik crowded Leevi’s personal space. “I’m aware of that. But you said last night that you had no more secrets, so there are no further obstacles—”

Leevi finally looked up. “The obstacles, as you put it, were more yours than mine.”

Rik’s face hardened and his eyes flashed. “That’s not fair, and you know it.” Yes, he did know that. But what kind of relationship could they have? “I’ve spent years missing you, Leevi, and I want us to try to be a couple again.”

Leevi frowned, not quite sure what he was hearing. “What about your catnip-woman?”

Harrumphing in frustration, Rik responded, “I don’t know. I care for her, more than any girl before, and I worry about her a lot, ‘cause she has a tendency for getting into trouble, she said as much herself. And getting involved with me is proof positive. But I also know I love you, have since the first—”

But Leevi was no longer listening. All of a sudden it was like scales had fallen from his eyes as an epiphany struck his brain like lightning. “Wait, wait. We’ll settle all that, but a little later, I promise. For now, you said when you were with her it was like you couldn’t control yourself. Did you mean you, or the wolf-you?”

Rik’s confusion and annoyance were clear, but he still grunted in reluctant reply, “The wolf-me.”

Just as he had surmised. Leevi closed his eyes and inhaled the air in the room deeply. That same stimulating scent hung heavy in the room, and now he felt not only the femininity there, but her secret as well. Opening his eyes, he turned in the direction of the cell door, walking toward it and listening in. Nothing could be heard. She was either immobile, unconscious, or waiting for whatever was to come.

“Leevi, I…” Rik came to stand at his side, his hand squeezing Leevi’s arm, obviously still not willing to let the conversation go.

But Leevi couldn’t concentrate. On the one side was his male mate whom he loved, wanted, and needed above all other considerations. But on the other side was a female whose very essence spoke to him, both to his man and to his wolf. Leevi felt like he should kick himself for not noticing the obvious before now. The familiarity of her scent should have clued him in yesterday. Now he understood exactly why she called out to his animal.

For Leevi knew without a shadow of a doubt that his Prime would not take notice of any ordinary girl and would not allow just any woman to bear his cubs. No, this woman was fit for a Prime.

The fact that this catnip happened to be on Rik’s radar as well made little difference to the possessiveness of the Prime Alpha within Leevi, the beast was anxious and aroused, and, fuck, he needed to get into that room.

“Leevi—” Rik started again, angrily.

“Rik,” Leevi interjected, looking him straight in the eye. “There are so many things I should have showed you about shifters, wolves, werewolves, about everything. Because if I had then you would have known from the start that the instinctive feeling you had, and have, for Summer is the result of a wolf mating bond. And the only reason it was, and is, so damn strong is because she is like us.”

The other man’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Leevi grinned sheepishly. “Summer, your catnip, is a wolf.”

Chapter Eight

“Ufffffff.” Seconds after Rik opened the door of the cell he started to fall to the floor, having been hit on the neck, something covering his head, blinding him. Was there a guard in the room? But why had the door been locked?

As he fell, his hands reaching up to uncover his face, he felt something jump on his back, the weight propelling them both forward, and he landed on the hard stone floor, his knees taking the initial brunt of the impact, then his forearms.
Fuck, that hurt.

An instant later the burden was lifted, and he threw himself onto his back, dragging the woolen blindfold off his face. It was a dark red sweater, a woman’s sweater.

Looking up he could see Summer squirming fiercely in Leevi’s hold, his arms wrapped firmly around her waist while her arms and legs wheeled, hitting out at him as he struggled to pull her away. Leevi’s face was contorted as he worked hard to hold her, Summer’s long hair swirling around him.

“Summer,” Rik yelled, relieved to have found her.

She suddenly stopped dead still and stared at him. “Rik? Oh, thank God, Rik.” Reaching down to loosen the grip of the man behind her, Summer touched the bare skin of Leevi’s forearm. Pulling herself free with a screech, she stumbled away, her face showing her shock.

Wondering what had just happened—and suspecting Summer’s reaction was the same one Rik had had with her at the airport—Rik jumped to his feet, and Summer turned, throwing herself into his arms. Clasping her to him in relief, Rik could feel her shaking. He breathed out slowly, relishing having his mate in his arms again. That brought him up short. When had he acknowledged her as such?

Seeing Leevi hanging back, he winced and pulled back to introduce him, “This is Leevi.”

Summer let go and gave him a stunned look. He could tell that she remembered the name from their previous conversation, and he nodded his response.

“But how did you get here? Why did you bring him? I can’t believe you found me.”

“You said where you were going in your note.”

She gave him a look of incredulity. “Yeah, and I distinctly remember that I didn’t say anything about castles, or dungeons, or whatever this place is.”

“Hill fort, I suppose the translation would be. It was the name of the village I recognized. These are
‛clan lands’. Um, how can I explain?”

But he didn’t need to. Summer slumped in his arms. “Oh God. You know, then, they are werewolves, those guys that took me?”

Rik shared a look with the other man. “Uh, yes. We have something to tell you too.”

He was int
errupted by Leevi. “Not now. Let’s get out of here first.” He could feel Summer was tense at that terse demand from Leevi, and she turned to say something to him. Afterwards, when reliving that instance, he could clearly remember the moment that her eyes met Leevi’s. It was a second that was heavy with sexual tension. He wasn’t sure what he was worried about more—Leevi taking his woman from him, or his woman taking Leevi. Either way she didn’t say anything as Leevi led the way up the spiral staircase to the next level, disappearing round the corner briefly.

A muffled cry and a shuffle of feet warned him that Leevi wasn’t alone. He could feel Summer’s hand gripping his shirt in fear as he came to a full stop in front of her.
Dammit. There isn’t any way out from below. We have to go up to the next level
.

His anxious worries materialized when a voice called out in English clearly intending for them to hear, “Come on up. We’ve got Leevi.” Rik’s heart leapt in his throat. He was sure he recognized that voice, and the owner was someone he never wanted to meet again.

Rik tightened his hand around Summer’s and felt a reassuring squeeze back. Fearfully, but with no other option, they climbed the remaining stairs and stepped out into the room.

The scene wasn’t reassuring.

Leevi was on the floor to his left struggling fiercely against the weight of two men. Rik wondered for a moment how on earth they had managed to subdue Leevi, who was, after all, the Prime Alpha of the clan, but when he saw Leevi shaking his head, as if dazed, and a heavy wooden club lying on the floor, he guessed that Leevi had been ambushed and hit on the head as he had rounded the top of the stairs.
Damn.
The whole place was so riddled with wolf scents that distinguishing the fresh ones from old ones was a stretch at best.

Looking over to the far side of the room, he saw the person who had spoken, Jaakko, and he was blocking the exit through which Rik and Leevi had stealthily entered. Jaakko grinned at Rik, knowing he had them cornered, his lips curling up on the right hand side of his face, making him look like he was snarling. Rik could see that a nasty, raggedy scar on his face was causing this and wondered when he had gotten it. He certainly hadn’t had it last time Rik had met him.

Jaakko was the leader of these dissident rogues, and an utter bastard. Yes, Rik knew he and Leevi had been friends since childhood, but he had never taken to the man. Jaakko was a tall man, nearly as tall as Leevi, and not far off being as strong. Rik knew that he may well have been the clan’s Prime Alpha, if he had been less inclined to rely on his followers to do his dirty work and actually work more toward being a leader, so there were few people who could have gotten close enough to give him that scar. Rik guessed that Leevi had given it to him, and wondered what had happened.

But there wasn’t time to think of that. The only other way out was up the stairs to the upper floor and the lookout post, and chances were that Jaakko had more guards up there. Rik tensed, his eyes glancing rapidly to Leevi and then around the room wondering if they could knock Jaakko down and get past to the corridor behind him which led to some storerooms, and to the lower exit. Except Leevi was restrained, and there was no way he was going to exchange one prisoner—one of his loves—for another.