The Wolven
Page 15

Until last night.
He had only to take one look at her wrapped in that bathrobe, her freshly scrubbed face, bare feet, long hair, wet and tousled, and something so powerful welled up inside him, he feared he’d transform on the spot. It was more than desire, more than common sexual attraction. She looked like a waterfall to a man dying of thirst. Somehow, he’d still managed to control himself, act as if everything was normal—even though he stirred a pot he could not see—heard only the melodic sound of her voice, her laughter. He’d kept reminding himself that she was human, he was were, and the difference between them was too vast to bridge.
Not that sex hadn’t tried to shove its way to the fore-front of his mind. There was no question he was sexually attracted to her. Any man in his right mind would be. But Danyon had had more than his fair share of sexual encounters, with most of them beginning and ending the same way. A little spark of chemistry—a tangle of arms and legs—a physical need met, but a soul left empty. Intuitively, he knew that any man lucky enough to be intimate with Shauna MacDonald would be satiated in ways he never thought possible.
His intuition had been right.
Danyon knew he was tempting fate when he’d helped Shauna retrieve the plates from the cabinet shelf. And fate did not disappoint. When he’d leaned over to grab the plates, her scent, a heady mixture of musk and lilacs, nearly shattered his resolve. His undoing, however, had been when she’d turned around, and he first tasted her lips. From that moment on, the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
He lost count of the number of times they had made love, but it hadn’t taken him long to figure out he was already in way over his head. She had left him feeling filled and emptied at the same time, which was nirvana in its purest form. But the sure sign of his demise had been the ache in his heart, when he’d watched her leave this morning.
Danyon was still lost in thought when the smell of blood caught his attention. Puzzled, he glanced down at his hands and then up into the rearview mirror to check his face. No blood. He slowed the car and lowered the driver’s side window. The scent of blood slammed into his nostrils. He swerved to the shoulder of the road and hit the brakes. Fortunately, the road he’d been driving on wasn’t heavily traveled. Aside from an old pickup that had passed him some time ago, his car was virtually the only vehicle on the road.
Following his nose, Danyon inched the car back onto the road, then drove another mile or so before the scent of blood led him to a graveled road on the left. He turned and followed its meandering path to the base of a forest that was part of the Jean Lafitte Wildlife Preserve. The road eventually ended at a small boat launch on a lake.
Danyon parked the car and got out to further investigate on foot. The blood trail led him around the short end of the lake, then deeper into the woods. It wasn’t long before he heard voices. The loudest belonged to a female, and he recognized it almost immediately.
It was Kara Matiste.
“When I tell you to pick it up, that means now!”
“I tried,” a male voice cried. “It makes me—”
“I don’t care if it makes you sick.”
“Swear to God I tried!”
“Quit your sniveling. What kind of man are you, crying like a girl?”
“But I—I can’t.”
“There’s no such thing as can’t. Do you understand me?”
Danyon stepped into a clearing and saw Kara shove one of her weres, who he knew— Lawrence Castille—so hard, the were stumbled backwards and nearly fell. Standing a short distance away to Kara’s left, was James Darbonne, another were from her pack. Lawrence and James had been two of Carl’s top men. Both stood a little over six feet tall and had average builds. In human years, they would have been closing in on their mid-thirties. Although James and Lawrence were twice Kara’s size and topped her by at least four inches, they cowered away from her like frightened puppies.
Kara’s long black hair was pulled back and held in place by a gold barrette, and she wore jeans with the pant legs tucked into black cowboy boots. Her short-sleeved blouse was blood-red with white snaps running down the front. She did a double take when she spotted Danyon. Obviously, she’d been so wrapped up in verbally bashing her weres, she hadn’t caught wind of his approach.
“What are you doing here?” she asked him, sounding a little unnerved.
Lawrence and James looked away shame-faced.
“I have news from August,” Danyon said. The smell of blood had grown so thick, he actually tasted it. From between Kara and Lawrence’s legs, he spotted something on the ground behind them. He suspected it was what led him here. He wanted to walk over and see for himself, but out of respect for Kara’s role as alpha and the fact that he was in her territory, he stayed put.
“Is that so?” Her dark eyes flashed with anger.
Danyon glared at Kara long and hard, making sure she understood— If you think you’re big and bad enough to get me to fold at your feet like the other two, you need to think again.
Evidently getting the message, she broke eye contact first. “How in the hell did you find me way out here?”
“I smelled blood. Followed it here.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Well, you’re just a regular effin’ Sherlock Holmes now, aren’t you?”
Danyon glanced down at her legs, a signal to let Kara know he’d spotted something behind them. Then he asked, “Anything I can help with?”
Her eyes became black, cold marbles. “Not unless you can raise the goddamn dead.” With that, she shoved Lawrence back, then turned to one side, giving Danyon a better view.
A were lay on the ground about ten feet away. He was in full were-state, wrapped in cable, covered in blood, minus claws or fangs—and was most certainly dead. A roll of plastic sheeting lay on the ground beside him. From the looks of it, Kara had probably been trying to get Lawrence and James to move the body onto it.
“Who is he?” Danyon asked.
“Why in the hell does it matter to you who he is? He’s one of mine.”
Danyon narrowed his eyes, felt his nostrils flare. “It matters because he’s were, Kara. One of us.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever.”
“His name is Theodore Price,” James said, taking a tentative step toward them. “But everybody called him Teddy.”
“Did anybody ask you?” Kara snapped.
James bowed his head submissively and retracted his step.
“When did you find him?” Danyon asked.
After a long pause, Kara sighed, evidently sensing that she wasn’t going to get rid of him that easily. “About an hour or two ago. I’m not sure of the exact time. Can’t keep track of every damn thing. Been trying to get the body moved before all hell breaks loose out here. If the rest of my pack sees this, they’re going to panic like a bunch of effin’ coyotes.”
Danyon nodded. “I know what you mean.”
She let out a sarcastic snort. “You don’t know jack.”
“I know more than you think.”
She frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”
With an almost imperceptible aim of his chin, he signaled that he didn’t want to discuss the matter in front of James and Lawrence.
Kara turned to James. “Get your ass to town and take the sniveling fool with you. But I want you back here in thirty minutes, no later. Got that?”
“Yes,” James said, head down, eyes averted.
“And this time, bring somebody with you who’s got a set of balls. Now get outta here, both of you.”
In a flash, the two weres darted off, disappearing into the forest on the opposite side of the clearing.
Once they were out of sight, Danyon turned to her, knowing he would get blasted for the question he was about to ask. “Why do you treat them that way, Kara?”
Her face clouded, and her lips tightened into a thin line. She took a step toward him, and he saw the muscles in her forearm begin to ripple. “What kind of pussy alpha would ask a question like that?”
“Being alpha doesn’t mean beating the dignity out of your pack.”
Kara’s feet widened to a fight stance. “Let me tell you something, Danyon Stone—I don’t know how you lead the marshmallows you call wolven over on the East Bank, but I keep a strong hand on mine. If you don’t, they’ll run all over you, doing and saying whatever they want, whenever they want. I’m alpha of the West Bank, and I make damn sure my pack never forgets it. You’ve got to keep your weres tough, sharp, ready for anything.” She pointed to Teddy. “If you don’t, crap like this happens.” She turned away, but not before Danyon saw her eyes well up with tears.
He gave her a moment to compose herself, then said, “I know where you’re coming from because I lost two yesterday.”
Kara whirled about, mouth agape. “Two?”
“Yes. Same way, too. Cables, claws and fangs torn off—”
“Human? Had they turned?”
“No. Both still in were-state, just like Teddy.”
Kara brushed a hand briskly over the top of her head. “What the hell’s going on here? Have you ever seen anything like that before? A dead wolven still were, I mean?”
“Not until yesterday.”
She shook her head slowly. “I’ll tell you this much, if some asshole thinks he’s gonna just come out here to the West Bank and pick off my weres, he’s got another thing coming. The sonofabitch better think twice.”
“Whoever or whatever does not seem to be targeting any specific pack. Remember, it happened on the East Bank, too.”
“Anywhere else?”
“Not that I know of,” Danyon said. “I’ve already seen the other alphas, and, thankfully, nothing’s happened within their packs.”
“August sent you to warn us about this, didn’t he?”
“Yes. That and he wants all of us to pick out a handful of our strongest weres and post them around the perimeter of our territories. They’re to stay there until the murderer is found.”