Wild (45 page)

But none of that meant he couldn't shift into a deadly lycan and take the life of whatever entity dared to threaten him or the members of his pack at the drop of a dime. That was a simple truth.

“I'll find him and rip his fucking throat out,” Malec stated with the cold, deadly tone that came to him much too easily.

“Well, then,” Phelan said. “Sounds like we've got a plan.”

Malec had poured the twenty-two-ounce tumblers full of the green concoction he'd created and set them on the table in front of Channing and Phelan, saying simply, “Drink.”

With a growl Phelan had taken his cup and walked out of the kitchen. Malec followed, giving Channing a knowing look, and headed to the gym. Taking his first sip Channing had tried valiantly not to vomit at the strange-tasting drink. Malec was a health fanatic, so there was no doubt that whatever was in this glass was good for him. It just tasted like crap. And besides, Channing thought as he'd taken his cup into the living room where he planned to sit and read some of his magazines, they were lycans. What humans needed to help sustain their bodies wasn't necessarily what fed the lycans or gave them strength. Their power came solely from the moon and the rejuvenating sexual encounters that spiked on the night of the full moon. And for this particular pack, the military training had given them a specific edge over their counterparts. But it was important for Malec to have something to hold on to, something that gave him a reason to stay connected to the lycan world and this pack. Channing had recognized that from the beginning, and so did the others.

So it was about an hour later, just after noon, when Channing had finally finished the last of the smoothie and three of the seven new magazines he'd received in the mail, when the piercing, high-pitched screech began to sound.

His head shot up instantly, his body and senses instantly going on alert. It was the sound of the motion sensor going off. Someone was on the property.

Channing's gaze immediately went to the floor-to-ceiling windows that flanked both sides of the stone fireplace. Those windows were tinted so that no one could see in, but Channing could see out and across the yard to the garage and gym. All looked well and fine out there, but the sound continued. It was a high-frequency sound, similar to that of a dog whistle that had been technically amped and wired to sound throughout the house and if the lycans were up to fifty feet from the property. Only the lycans could hear the sound, and possibly a dog or other wolf that may have been close enough to pick up the frequency. At any rate, there was no doubt that someone was there. The others in the house would be on alert as well that they had company.

He should wait for Blaez and Kira; they would decide what to do. Besides, the intel room was closest to Phelan's part of the house, and Phelan was the one that usually did all the monitoring from there. He would already be checking the cameras, rotating them so that he had a view of all angles of their property. But as the sound continued, Channing was pulled to the front door. He'd picked up a scent, his nose twitching with the smell, and he was following it. Every part of him was reacting to this scent now, his body warming, eyes focusing on the huge oak double doors, dick twitching with every step closer to the access.

When Channing touched the doorknob the trancelike feeling that had been pulling at him for the last few seconds intensified, and while he knew he should wait for the others he felt the overwhelming urge to open this door to see who or what was on the other side. He'd never felt this way before, as if he were losing control of his own body and senses, and Channing wanted to know why. He wanted to know what could possibly be having such a strong effect over him.

So without waiting for the others or even knowing precisely what he was letting into their home, Channing opened the door, and like a warm summer's breeze her scent washed over him. Light perfume, something floral, layered with arousal, thick and juicy. His mouth watered at the thought of those juices coating the sweet lips of her pussy. About two seconds later another scent infiltrated his system, and Channing frowned, his gaze going from Caroline's pretty face, down past her heaving breasts, to the cage she held in her hand.

“What happened?” he asked.

“He told me to bring this to you,” she replied, thrusting the cage out at him like it was a bouquet of flowers for the house.

The secondary scent he'd picked up was blood. The animal's blood that was also all over the front of Caroline's blouse. He grimaced at the sight.

“Come in,” he told her, without immediately taking the cage. “Come in here right now.”

She moved past him, and her scent once again took priority over his senses. He clenched his teeth to hold back his anxiousness and wondered how long it would actually take before he finally got his taste of her. After reengaging the locks Channing walked to her and took the cage from her.

“When and who?” he asked while crossing the wood floors and skirting around the couch.

He was placing the crate on the coffee table, being careful to avoid his magazines, but not wasting any time either.

“This morning, and I don't know who,” she replied. “I was kind of hoping you and your friends could tell me that.”

He'd been glaring down at the dead dog as she spoke. “What makes you think we know?” he asked her.

“This makes me think so.”

Channing turned then to see her thrusting a slip of paper out at him.

“This one was on my car window,” she said when he took the page from her hands and began to read. “And this one was with the dog.”

She dropped the plastic bag with an identical note inside on the table beside the crate.

“So I'll ask you again,” she'd started to say before her words abruptly came to a halt.

The room picked up a few degrees, and the muscles in Channing's shoulders tightened. Malec was there.

“You'll ask him what?” he asked, his voice already thick with lust.

Channing came to a stand then, placing himself between Malec and Caroline. He offered the letter to Malec. “Another one. Dog. Dead. This was on her car, and one came with the dog,” he said by way of filling him in.

The way he stood between them also confirmed something Channing had been thinking about all night. The attraction between the three of them was extraordinary. The way the air had immediately filled with the sexual tension the moment Malec had entered the room had confirmed it. Channing had already felt his own personal pull toward Caroline last night. It had started innocently enough, as she was the third that Malec had selected for them. Normal, right? No, he'd thought later last night as he lay in his bed. Something more than normal, more than he'd experienced with any of the other females he and Malec had taken together before.

Just a few moments ago when she'd been on the other side of the door, the pull toward her had intensified. She was the reason Channing hadn't waited for any higher authority within the pack to open that door. He'd felt her even before he knew for certain she was here. That was deep. It was serious. And now, standing right here between Malec and Caroline, he knew the three of them being together was inevitable.

“I want to know why these animals are dying,” Caroline said, to them both, Channing suspected. “And why are they being delivered to me?”

Neither of the lycans spoke. Malec continued to look down at that piece of paper, and Channing continued to stare at him. Apparently Caroline did not like that.

“Look, I know that you guys live all the way out here because you want your privacy, and really, I don't care about whatever you're doing out here and don't want anyone in town to know. I can respect that. But what I cannot respect, or condone, is the senseless killing of animals. Now either you're going to tell me what the hell is going on or I'm calling the sheriff the minute I get home. And the park rangers,” she added as if that were going to be the deciding factor for how they chose to deal with her.

It wasn't.

But the appearance of their alpha was.

“Hello, Dr. Douglas,” Blaez said as he made his way into the living room.

Channing turned to face the alpha and his mate. They'd both changed clothes since that morning, Blaez in his signature black jeans and T-shirt, while Kira wore a yellow-and-white maxi dress, her hair pulled back from her face with a yellow band. They were a stunning couple to the human eye and a powerful one in the lycan world. That's what Channing saw when he looked at them, and he couldn't help but wonder what Caroline was thinking at this very moment.

“Hello,” Caroline said, extending her hand to shake Blaez's.

“I am Blaez Trekas, and this is my wife, Kira,” he told her.

After Kira's official claiming on the night of the full moon, all five of them had gone into the city for a quick civil ceremony to make their union legal in the human world as well.

“I wish we could meet on more pleasant terms,” Caroline said as she shook Kira's hand as well.

“Likewise,” Kira said, keeping her smile in place although Channing was certain she'd already taken note of the blood on Caroline's clothes.

“This note came this morning with the dog. I did everything I could to save him, but the wounds were just too deep and he'd already lost so much blood,” Caroline told Blaez.

“Did you notify anyone else about this?” Malec asked her.

He'd finally passed the note he was holding on to Phelan, who had come quietly into the room.

“Like I said before,” Malec said tightly, “he's taunting us.”

“I have to agree, Blaez. It does look like he's calling us out,” Phelan added.

“Who's calling you out? And why would they use these animals? Should we call the sheriff now?” Caroline's questions came quickly, and every lycan in the room stared at her.

“Why don't we get you cleaned up, Dr. Douglas,” Kira suggested.

She was a pretty woman, a thick girl like Caroline, which was always comforting. In a room full of men oozing sexuality like sweat from their pores, it was nice to see that they weren't only focused on the model-thin beauties of the world. Still, Caroline was a bit shocked that there was a woman in the house at all. Olivia hadn't mentioned a woman, and she hadn't stated that one of the hot guys was married.

Not that it mattered because Caroline wasn't concerned about what any of them did. Okay, well, that probably wasn't totally true. She was intrigued, had been on the long ride through those back roads and then into the forest. She'd felt like she was on some type of safari ride as her car bumped and tumbled over the gravel path that had been cleared through the forest. On more than one occasion she'd wondered what type of people would want to live all the way out there, so totally secluded from the town. From the prying eyes of nosy people, like Nora at the beauty salon and Olivia at the clinic. With that thought, Caroline immediately decided that a very smart person would want to live totally secluded from the town.

As she'd finally come through the line of trees onto a cobblestone driveway that winded through some of the lushest green grass she'd ever seen, Caroline admitted to being breathless. The lodge, or log fortress, as she really wanted to call it, was phenomenal. There had to be at least a hundred acres of land, with a two-level log dwelling right in the center of it, like a picture out of a magazine. With its stone chimney stretching up through the center of all the excellently selected wood and numerous large windows, she'd been mesmerized by the time she'd finally pulled her car to a stop.

And when the double-wide door, with frosted glass inlays, had eventually opened, Channing Verdi standing his very sexy self in the doorway, she'd admitted to being stunned into a blissful silence. But then she'd managed to wrap her mind around the problem at hand and found a way to focus on just that—the dead animals. And not the heated way in which Channing had stared at her, or the rush of arousal that dampened the folds of her pussy as she stood in the same room with Malec and Channing together.

“That would be wonderful,” Caroline managed to reply to Kira, while her mind was still having conflicting thoughts. “And please, call me Caroline.”

“All right, then, Caroline. You can call me Kira,” the woman said with a cheerful smile, moving around her husband and linking her arm with Caroline's. “We'll just go upstairs for a few and get you a nice hot shower. You'll feel better in no time,” she said as they walked.

Caroline doubted that, but she wasn't going to be ungracious to her hostess. Besides, she wanted to see more of this house. In the living room the gleaming wood floors were only partially covered by plush Persian rugs. The furniture, dark oak leather, against the breathtaking backdrop of floor-to-ceiling windows, a stone fireplace in its center with a mantel that looked as if they'd removed a chunk out of a huge tree and smoothed it to perfection. It was rustic and chic all at the same time with antique sconces on the walls and high-end lacquered lamps that she was sure she'd seen in one of those lifestyle magazines.

The stairs were wide and wood, banisters thick and shined, long hallways lined with wood-planked floors and closed doors on either side. The pictures that hung on the wall caught her attention.

“The phases of the moon,” she said, pausing to look at one in particular. Its blue tint was stunning, the brightness of the moon piercing through the darkness.

“Yes,” Kira replied. “We have a thing for the moon around here.”

“Just the moon, or do you have a thing for astronomy as a whole?” Caroline asked.

With a tilt of her head, Kira looked at her curiously. Caroline stared back at the woman, wondering what she was thinking. There was a moment of silence in which both ladies just stood there, as if communicating on some other level. A level which Caroline did not understand, of course, but still she was certain that she'd felt some type of connection to this Kira Trekas.