Wolf's Strength (2 page)

Three Weeks Later

“Stop the car. Someone’s in trouble.”

Blake DeLuca sat straight in the passenger seat. His senses were heightened in alarm. The sharp scream of the woman echoed in his head and he searched the evening atmosphere by peering out through the windshield.

The scream was a cry for help, and it sounded as if this woman was in despair.

“You heard it too?” Dawson asked as he swerved into an empty lot and brought the Maserati to a screeching halt.

Blake’s body lurched forward from the blunt maneuver, but he didn’t waste another moment. He got out of the car in three seconds flat and rushed toward the scuffling sounds in the alley. His wolf was just below the surface, urging him toward the incident. They were in unmarked territory which presented yet another threat. Human eyes were everywhere, even at this odd hour of the evening. Dusk had fallen nearly an hour ago, but that didn’t mean every human was cozy in their home.

Dawson was behind him, his running footsteps crunching the gravel and broken sidewalk.

With their keen sense of smell, it didn’t take them long to find the scene of the crime. Blake stopped short of revealing their arrival too soon and hid behind the shadow of a long dumpster. The woman screamed again but louder this time.

There were three of them. The intricate pattern inked on their left shoulders designated them as belonging to the
Other
clan.

They had a Caedmon female backed into a darkened alleyway. A man lay dead on the pavement next to them. There was a deep, gaping slit on his neck—most likely the cause of death—and a pool of blood draining from his throat. What little clothing the female wore was tattered and torn. The dead male didn’t look that presentable either. Anyone could tell they’d put up a fight and as a result, a man paid with his life.

“We just wanted to have some fun with you, that’s all,” one of the men from the
Other
clan taunted. He and the others moved closer to the frightened woman. “Your friend there shouldn’t have stuck his snout where it doesn’t belong.”

One of the men kicked the dead body and grinned. “He’s dead. Now we can play some more.”

Blake emerged from the shadows with curiosity but the rage running through his system prevailed the most.

“Help!” the woman cried as she noticed Blake and Dawson closing in.

The biggest one swung around, and his gaze focused on the new threat. His irises were a murky dark gray, which was unusual for someone of the
Other
clan. Usually their eyes glowed bright silver, especially when they were provoked and up to no good. But this man’s powers seethed from his pores, kind of like a Caedmon’s would do but in less vivid colors. Although
Others
were the human branch of Caedmon-kind, they couldn’t shift and their abilities and powers were reduced. Only through the wolf genes were the powers and Caedmon Spirit more potent.

“Look what else we got,” the biggest one said through clenched teeth. “More mutts. I wonder if they’re even worth dulling a blade. The last one fell quickly—like a limp rodent.” He held up his knife and pressed a pointer finger to the tip to demonstrate the sharpness.

Dawson growled.
Let me do this one.

The statement came to Blake through projection. This gift, along with others, was presented to and accepted by all six members of the Council. Thought projection was something shared among mates and close siblings, so to have something this rare with his fellow Council members, who were like brothers to him, was a precious gift.

But there’s three of them,
Blake projected back.
The one with the most kills wins.

Game on.

Blake pointed to the deceased Caedmon on the ground. “Why did you kill him?”

“For the same reason you’ll be lying dead next to him,” one replied, taking a step closer. “Not being able to mind his own business.”

“Westcott was trying to help me,” the woman blurted and then shrank against the building when the biggest one, presumably the leader, turned toward her.

“Shut up, tramp!” he hissed and thrust the knife forward to intimidate her. “You were asking for it. I’ll save you for last…after I get through with these scumbags.”

Blake acted quickly, his wolf egging him on. He reached the offending male and grabbed him tight around the wrist. He made his determination was made clear when he snapped the offender’s carpal bone in two. “Now that’s no way to talk to a lady.”

The man hollered in pain and dropped the knife.

There was some scuffling behind them, and Blake figured Dawson got into it with the other two. Dawson had just reached the age when a young male wolf was most aggressive. So Blake was certain he would have lured them into a fight one way or the other.

His opponent caught him off guard, throwing a punch with his other fist. It missed Blake’s jaw by a centimeter.

Blake shoved the big brute hard into the stone wall.

When the body hit, spittle and sweat flew from his neck and face. The man stumbled from the building, shaking off the disorientation from the hit. The brute appeared to give up, but then he sprang up with a second knife, flinging it at him.

The blade caught Blake in the upper forearm. He bit his bottom lip and snatched it out. Blood pulsed from the wound down his arm to his hand. He dug his fingers into his palms while the blood rage escalated in his chest.

Blake’s eyes glazed and he began seeing everything in vivid red, but things were clearer, nonetheless. His body shuddered as he fought the emergence of his angry wolf. There was no subduing his animal any longer. The wolf was his other half. They completed each other, and they both hungered for revenge.

Blake’s canines ripped violently from his gums.

He heard a squeak and discovered the woman was still standing there, unmoving and shocked. He caught her gaze and held it. “Run. Never come in unmarked territory again.”

She wasted no time, gathering her ripped skirt and running out of the alley.

“I’ll carve you!” his opponent screamed. “I’ll slice your throat just like your dead doctor there.” His fingers shook as he pointed.

“Will that be before or after I stuff your mouth with your guts?”

The coward pulled a pistol from behind his back.

Blake ducked out of the pathway of the first bullet. Within seconds his bones snapped and molded. His skin grew hot and stretched until he became the wolf. But he didn’t earn the first kill. Dawson had already ripped into the throat of one.

This enemy fueled a wolf’s rage. The need to avenge a murdered Pack member arose. As a Council member, he pledged long ago to protect his people by any and all means necessary. He wasn’t ready to die tonight—not by any man’s hand and not by a gun.

The third and fourth bullets came too close to his head, and he sprang into action. He leaped into the air and hurled himself toward the offender.

His claws dug into a meaty chest as he drove the man’s body into the ground. The wolf offered little mercy when it came to cold blooded murderers.

Blood rushed into Blake’s mouth as he tore into the man’s stomach, pulled out a mass of guts, and tossed them in heaps on the ground. This murderer’s screams were too loud. The only mercy Blake afforded that evening was putting the man out of his misery by ripping into his throat to end it all.

After the kill, Blake’s wolf spun around ready for more, but Dawson had taken down the last man.

They shifted into their human forms almost at the same time, heaving in and out with deep and ragged breaths. Dawson stumbled to the opposite the wall, clutching his side.

Blake rushed to him. “Were you hit?”

Dawson held up his palm. “Dude, I’m fine. The bullet isn’t deep. I got this.”

Dawson was brother to the Alpha and son of a male descending from the original line of Caedmon ancestors. Despite his youth, Dawson was ten times more powerful than Blake. In a matter of seconds, Dawson expelled the bullet and stopped the blood loss.

Blake pried a pistol from one of the dead men’s cold fingers. He held it up to the moonlight. “Just as I thought. This gun is hot. The serial number has been stripped. Bullets are probably untraceable too.” He dumped the remaining bullets from the clip into his palm.

Dawson plucked a shell from the ground and pocketed it. “They popped off too many rounds during the scuffle. Chances are high that someone nearby heard. Let’s get out of here.”

They picked up the murdered Caedmon and carried him away. Loyal Pack members never left the dead to rot out in the open. The Doctor deserved a proper burial.

“I’ll drive this time.” Blake took a sideways glance at Dawson’s wounded side. “You need time to mend.” He pulled his cell phone from his jacket pocket and hit the speed dial key and then the number nine. His call was answered promptly.

“M-9.”

“Max, we need another clean up,” Blake replied as he slid into the seat on the driver’s side.

Max blurted an expletive. “This shit is getting serious, ain’t it?”

“Roger that.”

Naomi Valentine extracted a twenty-dollar bill from the pocket hidden on the inside of her leather boots. She slid the money across the counter and into the waiting hands of her server. “Another round.”

“Coming right up.” The bartender contemplated her request with a grin as he made her third red lotus.

All around her, people lingered and danced, filling the popular Dockhouse Bar with an energetic atmosphere. The last time she came here, she’d been up to no good, but that was years ago. It wasn’t often her crew was allowed to get out and enjoy the nightlife. They trained like hell six days a week. Off days were spent on rest and recovery except when there was reason to ignore the fatigue and indulge in other extracurricular activities. She had a reason tonight.

A quick dinner on the pier with the crew to celebrate a birthday turned into an all-nighter at a bar. It was well past midnight, and there was no indication the guys were getting tired. Who could blame them? This place was the ultimate go-to spot for a quick hookup. Exotic dancers swung from stripper poles in every corner of the room. The girls who weren’t dancing manned the floors, taking turns seducing men, luring them to back rooms to shell out big bucks for a quick fuck. At least the abundance of willing females ensured horny men left her alone.

The bartender slid the red lotus in front of her. “You with someone?”

Naomi stirred her drink, pushing the lemon slice to the bottom, and then made eye contact with him. “Do you see anyone with me?”

He regarded her slowly, his dark hazel eyes sweeping across her top. “I clock out in thirty minutes. I can make you more of those in a quieter setting.”

“Thirty minutes, huh?” She lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip. “What else can you do in a quieter setting?”

“Whatever you can handle.” The bartender grinned. “We can play all night.”

“Handle?” She chuckled.

He laughed, leaned over the counter, and was about to speak when Nathan slipped onto the stool beside her.

“Can I help you find something?” Nathan growled at the bartender, who immediately stepped out of sight.

“Idiot,” she said with a hiss at her twin brother.

“You’ll earn the dude a black eye, Sister,” he replied, a long lock of black hair falling over his forehead.

Naomi could tell from the way his eyes glinted with hints of silver that he was either drunk on alcohol or high on too much testosterone. She caught of whiff of liquor and floral perfume. His hair appeared as though he just got out of bed, so it didn’t take a genius to figure out what kind of fun he had.

“Mind your business.” She huffed. “I’m sure you’ve had your share of women tonight.”

“I’m sorry I took the fun out of it for you, but he’s a complete stranger. Not one of us.”

No shit.

She was certain her brother got the message. They were twins. Had been side by side in the same womb for months. There was one type of bond deeper than that of a siblings: the bond of a mate.

Brother or not, Nathan’s overbearing nature was getting on her nerves. If it wasn’t her dad breathing down her neck about with whom she could hang, it was her brother trying to tell her with whom she
couldn’t
. Aggravated, Naomi slammed her drink on the bar and got up.

Before she took another step, a brawl erupted on the far side of the club. A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air, and a keen hunch hit Naomi hard in the gut. It was the same feeling she got when someone close to her was in trouble. She and Nathan exchanged knowing glances and then pushed through the crowds.

By the time they got through the sea of bodies, it was too late. Four of her Elite brothers were fighting in the far corner of the club. All she could make out were limbs thrashing and heads bobbing in a frenzy of clothing. The fight was so intense she heard the pounding of fists against flesh and the snapping of bones as her brothers fought the need to shift.

“Stand back!” Nathan rushed into the frenzy but was knocked down and thrown into the middle of a table, breaking it in two. A feral growl erupted from his throat as blood spilled from his nose. One minute he was down, and the next he was part of the fight.

Ruby, her Elite sister, ran straight into her, eyes wild with shock. “Oh my God, Naomi. I didn’t know…I—” She clutched at her chest and panted.

“You didn’t know what?” Naomi’s eyes shifted from the fight to Ruby. The hairs on the back of her neck sprung up as her wolf began to sense the increasing panic, especially as the humans began to notice the brawl. “What happened?”

“Caedmon…” She panted and pointed. “And
Other
. All under the same roof…with us.”

“What the…” Naomi turned her attention to the fight, trying to focus on separating her brothers from their opponents. They were brawling in their human form, so it was difficult to distinguish them.

If Ruby’s observation was true, her crew picked a bad night to enter this club. Just last week they received strict orders from the Alpha not to engage either side until he gave the go-ahead.

“Did you see who started the fight?” Naomi asked.

A guilty expression crossed Ruby’s face as she answered. “I was with Dawson. He started the fight.”

“What do you mean? “

“I…we kissed. That’s all. I swear I didn’t know. I thought he was Arnou.”

Naomi released a remorseful sigh. Ruby was a recruit, and she was barely initiated as an Elite. Any experienced member would have been able to distinguish a Caedmon from their kind. It was evident the woman needed more training in that regard. Sure Arnou and Caedmon were of the same blood, but if Ruby had paid attention, she would have recognized the subtle differences.

Naomi lured her wolf to the surface to magnify her vision. She knew Caedmon royalty when she saw it. Ruby was right. Dawson Caedmon, brother to the Caedmon Alpha, was the wolf with the sapphire eyes.

She picked up on the distinct aura of yet another entity.
Other
.

Oh no…this wouldn’t end well.

Other
fought dirty. With guns and knives. Not with fangs and claws like their wolf cousins. It was why Naomi’s crew always went in public with their armor hidden. They never knew when they’d encounter one on a mission. But she decided not to act with a knee jerk reaction and pull her dagger—yet.

“Stay back.” She urged Ruby to stand with the other spectators.

The human security guards neared the fight, but before the guards could take action, the warring men separated.

Nathan and the rest of her Pack brothers’ clothing was torn and hanging from them in shreds. Their fangs were barred and they were bulked up on heated adrenaline.

Shit! If one of them fucked up and shifted in public…

It didn’t matter to which group any of them belonged. Arnou. Caedmon.
Other.
They had a common rule. Never reveal their true nature to humankind.

“Out! Get out!” A human guard yelled. “Take this shit outside or we’re calling the cops!”

Naomi moved against the panicked mob, trying to reach her crew. As the guards made a dent in the crowds in an attempt to lead the trouble makers outside, her gaze landed on the only man who could tame her wild heart. She stopped dead in her tracks, taking in Blake DeLuca in all his glory.

Her mouth fell open slightly, and his eyebrows came together in recognition. His nostrils flared at the same time her inner wolf registered his unique scent. Sandalwood and nutmeg. Over the intense heat of the fight, testosterone, and sweaty bodies in the club, she hadn’t noticed before but the smell was as clear as this night.

Her mate—just as forbidden now as before—was in the building.

She took in Blake’s disheveled appearance. His Timberland work boots. Dark blue jeans that were neither too loose nor baggy. His shirt was torn in half and ragged from the altercation. The tears revealed golden brown skin and toned muscles. His chest heaved, but his gaze swept calmly across her body just as hers was doing to him. A warm vibe ran up her spine when their gazes landed on each other’s faces once again. Eyes the color of a pecan shell swirled with a deep-red color. It was a trait he’d never had before but it had been weeks since she’d last been with him—and their planned meeting had been quick with one purpose.

“Outcast idiots.” Jeremy, her Elite brother, pointed a finger toward a member of the
Other
clan being held at bay.

His outburst only fueled the fire again. The Caedman he’d assaulted broke free from the bouncer Everyone had an agenda—protect their kind at all costs. That outburst set off a chain reaction, and the fight erupted once again.

People screamed, shoving past her and barreling their way to the open doors of the club to escape. Naomi smelled the bloodshed more than before because all who remained were her Elite brothers, three Caedmon, and three
Other.

The bouncers were outnumbered, and they were injured by the two rival groups as the sparring became more aggressive. Suddenly the lights went out, and she had no choice but to use her night vision. The
Others
used theirs as well.

She recognized eight her Elite brothers and one sister in the madness.

Three sets of eyes sparked silver. These were
Other.

A set of eyes matched the intensity of her bloodlust—a blazing deep red— which flowed through her like a wildfire.

Someone punched Naomi in the center of her back, and the force of it nearly caused her to fall flat on her face. She spun and sized up her opponent—a brunette of similar in height and size who appeared to hunger for a fight just like the rest of them.

“Hey! Why are you standing there like a dummy? Do something.”

It wasn’t every day she was able to challenge someone of her gender to a fight. Only 20 percent of the Elite members were women, and Naomi was well-known as odd because she preferred to challenge men in competition.

She took a fighter’s stance, letting the other woman know she was fair game. The woman rushed forward blindly, only to be met with a swift kick to the midsection. She landed on her hands and knees with her back to Naomi. But Naomi wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand when she turned around. Homegirl was the one who asked for it.

Naomi kick-knocked her to the ground, and this time the brunette lay sprawled on her back, gripping her side.

“Who’s the dummy now?”

“Bitch!” the brunette spat and propelled herself off the floor.

“That’s a mild assessment,” Naomi said, her canines throbbing against her gums.

Fighting with a female was a little different than fighting a man. With men she used fists and fangs. With women she used whatever she had against her opponent. This trash-talking heifer was well aware of that protocol as she grabbed a bundle of Naomi’s hair and tugged.

The brunette grabbed Naomi around the neck and sank sharp fingernails into her flesh, drawing blood. Naomi broke free and slapped her hard across the face. The brunette screamed in aggravation and palmed the four long red slashes on her cheek.

She was loud but not as loud as the police sirens, which Naomi heard in the distance. No doubt her crew and their opponents had taken over the club with the fight, but they were in for a rude awakening if the cops showed and they were still there.

“Shit!” Naomi exclaimed. There was no way she would sit in a human jail tonight. Been there. Done that.

The heifer extracted a dagger from the pouch hidden inside the back of her shirt and charged angrily. Her opponent hadn’t learned the first time she ran up to fight Naomi, but she would learn this time. Enough of this cat fighting. She was ready to get to the bottom line and learn what caused the fight to erupt in the first place. She couldn’t do anything with this relentless bitch on her tail.

Naomi swept her boot across the floor and connected with the outside of her opponent’s leg. As the woman lost balance from the blunt hit, Naomi spun, brought her boot up, and struck her across the face. The force propelled the heifer’s body into the concrete floor where she landed like deadweight. Her eyes rolled into her head and she passed out cold.

“Naomi!” Her brother’s urgent tone brought her back to reality. “Let’s get out of here.”

The fighting ceased just as the sound of police cruisers came to a screeching halt near the outside of the building. The front entrance was not the smartest place to make an exit. Some dashed out of the back door while others made a break for the second level of the club.

Even as she decided to follow her Elite brothers to the second floor and toward the fire escape, she knew this blaze would continue to burn, even after tonight. Hostility between the groups was at an all-time high. Who would have anticipated that breaking away from the Elite Compound for a celebration would end in trouble?

Once outside on the top of the building, the gusty winds whipped Naomi’s exposed skin, cooling the blood rushing through her veins. One by one, her brothers leaped off the top of the building and disappeared into the woods, both in human and wolf form.

“Naomi.” Ruby glimpsed at her with hesitation and fear in her eyes when it was her turn. She even backed from the edge of the building.