Wild Hearts (Blood & Judgment #1) (2 page)

I spin around to face his guys. The shock on their faces is priceless. I’m not gonna lie; it gets me off a little.

Two of them rush me on either side and I bat them away with barely any effort, sending them flying across the bar. The remaining ten advance on me then. They lunge at me, driving me to the floor, taking shot after shot and trying to beat me brutally into submission.

What they don’t realize is that their best punches barely feel like taps to me. There’s very little pain, but it’s fucking irritating as hell. I let out a ferocious roar and surge up from beneath them with such force that it propels them all across the bar every which way.

I dust off my leather pants and fix my hair as I take in the chaos around me. A few of them try to struggle to their feet while the others are down for the count.

It’s then that I realize what I need to do.

I can’t risk it.

None of them can leave this bar.

It could compromise my pack. I know my eyes are on fire right now, so they’ve all witnessed that, along with my supernatural strength. Even for a bunch of drunk thugs, I’m sure they can put two and two together and come to the conclusion that I’m not human. I can’t take the chance that they’ll report it to our enemies.

But I can’t take care of them as I normally would. Like a wolf would. It would be as bad as keeping them alive. They’re bikers, so I’ll take care of them the way that would be expected in the human world.

I draw my pistol and calmly eye each one of them in turn as I fire off head shot after head shot, leaving the asshole president of theirs to last so I can savor the look of fear in his eyes.

It speaks to my inner wolf.

Treating women the way he does, he’s lucky he wasn’t dealt this fate sooner. I hate guys like him with every fiber of my being. They see women as second-class citizens; there to serve their depraved sexual desires and nothing more. Well, he’s just met his fucking match in me tonight.

I fire off the shot, straight through his temple. Instant kill.

I holster my gun and stride out of the bar, ignoring the sliver of guilt that’s creeping up on me so quickly. Dammit!

I push through the door to see Carter standing right outside, his hand grasping Vicki’s arm tightly. He’s two decades older and a lot stronger than she is, so he can dominate her with ease.

He lifts his chin at me in a show of respect. I nod back and hold up my hand to him, indicating that I need a moment.

I turn my back to them and rest my hands against the opposite wall of the alley. I need a moment to rein myself in before I move from one intensely aggressive situation to another with Vicki.

I squeeze my eyes shut and work to regulate my breathing.

The wolf is right at the surface now and it’s a struggle to keep it at bay. Violence, blood and death has fueled it to the point where it’s incredibly painful to hold it off. Every part of me feels like it is on fire. My hands are shaking from the strain of enduring it.

I have to.

I can’t let the wolf out.

I haven’t for the last six months and I’m not about to let it happen now, because of that misguided bitch, Vicki.

“Fuck,” I grit out.

I’m almost at the point where the wolf is no longer on the verge of breaching the surface when I feel them. My pack. I turn around and see all fifteen of them—what’s left now after the 'incident'—striding into the alley. It’s no surprise to me that they’ve shown up. A pack can feel when the Alpha is in danger and it’s a natural, ingrained reaction for them to seek me out in these circumstances. No amount of me telling them to stay away can override that instinct.

“You can punish me all you want, Aria, but we all know you’re weak. Wolves don’t belong in hiding and that’s all we’ve been doing for the last six months,” Vicki says in an attempt to rile up the rest of the pack.

Now that the pack is here, Carter releases her and approaches them in an effort to contain them. I can feel the tension rolling off a few of them who are in Vicki’s corner.

“Sounds like you’re making a direct challenge to your Alpha,” I growl at her.

“I am.”

I stride past her towards the pack and tell them, “You all saw what the Ambassadors did to my father. I am protecting us.”

“Wolves don’t shy away from battle!” Vicki yells.

“They are stronger than all of you!” I thunder. I glare at Vicki. “Do you think
you
stand a chance of overpowering them?”

“At least I’m not afraid to!”

Her comment gets under my skin and I struggle not to show it. Fuck. It actually manages to catch me off guard and my normal ability to fire back an immediate crippling comeback is compromised. Why? Because I can’t dispute it as much as I would like to. I’m not afraid, per se, but I am more cautious now than I’ve ever been in the seven years since I’ve been Alpha of this pack. The 'incident' has seen to that.

Rumbles of discontent sound from the pack, drawing my attention.

And that’s when Vicki chooses her moment.

Distracted as I am, I don’t sense her approach as quickly as I normally would. Before I know what is happening, a white-hot pain rips through my back, driving all the way through to my heart. I curse at the shock of the searing pain. Silver! Nothing burns like such a bitch as silver does to a wolf. I stagger back, trying to catch my breath.

Now I know what that asshole, Raze, gave Vicki at the bar as part of their seedy business deal. A silver blade. Coming here to a human village is the only way she could obtain such a thing. For obvious reasons, we don’t keep silver on base.

The pack falls silent, horrified that their Alpha has just been knifed through the heart with silver. It’s a death sentence to any wolf under normal circumstances. Carter rushes towards me as Vicki stands there looking victorious in her challenge to my leadership. Killing the current Alpha is one of the main ways to take control of a pack. The other is passing it on via a bloodline. That’s what happened in my case. My father retired and passed the Alpha role down to me seven years ago.

Carter examines the wound quickly and I see the pained look in his eyes.

“Pull…it…out,” I choke out. I would do it myself if it wasn’t buried in my fucking back where I can’t reach it.

He shakes his head sadly. “It’s…fatal, Aria.”

“Do…it.”

He walks behind me and grips the handle of the blade. I brace myself for what’s about to come.

A moment later, he rips it out in one sudden motion.

“Fucking
hell
!” I curse. The blade has serrated edges.

The agony of it forces me to my knees. And that just pisses me off even more. It’s not a position I like to be in, especially not in front of my pack. I never show weakness. Not to anyone.

The fury building within me fuels my strength and I force myself back to my feet. I can feel the wound already starting to heal.

I straighten up and look at the pack, Carter and Vicki. They are all staring at me in disbelief.

“How?” Vicki gasps. “Silver to the heart should—”

“What? Kill a wolf? I am no ordinary wolf.” I hold my hand out to Carter and he hands me the blade by the handle, which is not made of silver. I hold it up to the pack. “Silver can’t kill me. Do you still doubt me? Do you still doubt my ability to lead you?”

Wolves respect one thing above all else: strength. And, here I am, demonstrating that I possess more than any other wolf in existence. I’ve always kept my abilities quiet, not wanting to expose them to anyone. It’s better when people underestimate you. Danger comes from letting people know what you’re truly capable of.

But I no longer have a choice. My authority has just been challenged by a member. I have to set them straight. This is the best way to do that.

I stride over to Vicki and wrap my hand around her neck. Hauling her off her feet, I seethe, “You’ve put us all in danger of exposure tonight.”

“I…I wanted—”

“What? Fun? Fun is exactly what will get us all killed right now. The time for that will come when we’re not being hunted by the fucking Ambassadors!” Without warning, or a second thought, I tighten my grip. She chokes and her arms flail in an attempt to stop me.

I rip her head clean from her body in one tug of strength.

I toss her dismembered head aside and approach the pack, wiping my bloodied hand on my leather pants.

They’re all stunned into silence at just witnessing their Alpha murder one of their own.

“That’s the price to pay for treason. You all have a choice. You either fall in line, or you leave. If you can’t get behind me, walk away now, because you’ve just witnessed the consequences of choosing Vicki’s option of betrayal. Are we clear?”

A roar of confirmations erupt, echoing through the alley.

“Good. Now, return home,” I command. I eye Carter. “Ensure their safety.”

“And you?” he asks, concerned.

“I need to clean up the mess inside the bar. I’ll burn the hellhole to the ground. I can’t leave any trace of us being here. And…now…fuck…I also need to arrange a new safe house. Vicki has jeopardized our current location with her stunt tonight.”

He nods compliantly and leads the pack away.

I watch them go, once again feeling that sliver of guilt creeping up on me. While the wolf might relish death and destruction,
I
don’t. The human part of me abhors it. But, as Alpha, often I have to do things I don’t like for the greater good—things that haunt me.

No one can ever know.

Chapter 2

~Aria~

As I stride down the hallway of the nightclub towards Tony’s office, I can feel I’m right on the edge. I’m barely keeping it together. Sweat is pouring off me. The burning sensation coursing through me has reached fever pitch and the pain is immense. It’s been a long time since I’ve come this close to wolfing out. The fresh blood of all those I had to kill tonight staining my clothes and skin is not helping matters either. It calls to the wolf on a primal level that is so difficult to deny or ignore.

I need release now.

I reach the door to his office and draw his scent to me in a bid to calm myself for the next few minutes until I can take what I need. Until he can get me there. Only another Alpha wolf can get me off in the intense way that I need to be able to calm the wolf down. And Tony is one hell of a powerful and formidable male Alpha wolf. He’s also a fucking asshole and an untrustworthy son of a bitch. But I don’t give a crap about any of that right now. This is business. No strings.

Strings are not my thing.

Fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em is more my style.

I storm into his office and kick the door shut behind me.

He’s sitting there in a charcoal designer suit—just one of his many suits that cost way too much. I’m not sure what costs more—his suit or his Italian leather loafers. His shaggy brown hair is styled in that casually wild way that contrasts sharply with the way he dresses. It brushes the collar of his crisp white shirt. I notice that his tie is missing and his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar.

Normally, I absolutely detest ‘suit guys’
.
I hate money
types and businessmen. And Tony has his fingers in a lot of pies, including the high-end nightclub I’m standing in right now. Appearances can be deceiving and while it might scream money on the outside, beneath the façade it’s as shady and underhanded as can be. Just like Tony. But I’m not here for his personality. Besides, he’s an Alpha at heart, so he still maintains that rough edge that I need in a man I’m fucking. That’s why I overlook what he does for a living and anything else that comes along with that. The only things I want from him are his hands, his mouth and his cock.

He’s lounging back on his white leather wraparound couch, with a champagne glass in one hand and another full one beside an ice bucket on the expensive marble coffee table in front of him. He’s clearly prepared and knew I was coming. I didn’t tell him, so he must have eyes on me. I make a mental note to investigate that.

His nostrils flare as I walk further into the room and he sniffs the air. His gaze darkens dangerously and he smirks at me slyly. “Mmm…your scent is even more irresistible than usual.”

Of course it is.
The blood.
He’s a sick bastard. He loves spilling blood, especially human blood—a power play to assert his dominance, or some macho bullshit. He should have been a damn vampire.

He gestures to the champagne glass on the coffee table.

I shake my head. “No time for that.”

Sauntering towards him, I strip my tank off, swaying my hips seductively from side to side as I do. His eyes follow my hands as I run them through my hair, down my neck, my collarbone, over my boobs and stomach. He shifts his weight on the couch as I hook my fingers into my leather pants and panties and peel them down my legs.

“You’d better be ready for me,” I tell him, as I kick my boots off.

“Fuck, babe. No issue there.”

I lunge at him, leaping towards him. He growls as I land on his lap.