Desert Wolf (5 page)

“And you think I can tell you that?” She could, but there was only one real way to do it—by mirroring the Alpha, digging into his flaws, inhabiting them, and then forcing him to face them.

“Yes.”

“You understand what it could cost you? What it could cost me?” Doing so could kill her. In fact, it might very well provoke
him
to kill her.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No doubt.

Leaning her head against the seat, she considered him. “Have you ever been around an Omega, Cassius?” A pause. A very long one, which proved an answer in and of itself. “You have no idea what you will endure with me, do you?”

“It doesn’t matter what happens to me. If it saves my pack, I’ll drag myself naked over hot coals to please you.”

“Yes,” she murmured, taken aback at the ferocious passion in his voice. “I think you would.”

“Then you’ll stay?”

“I need to shift.” She pulled at her shirt. “I need food, and a lot of it.”

“You need healing.”

“Well, it’s too bad I can’t handle Bianca’s issues at the moment. I need to prepare myself to deal with yours. So you’ll have to live with coddling me for the time being.” Then raising her voice, she called. “Faust. We’re leaving. Get directions from Cassius.”

“Where to?” Her Hound didn’t wait for Cassius to confirm the orders; he was her Guardian. He would do what she asked.

“Wherever the big boy here wants us to go. But I’m shifting so, if you will, close the gate.”

“You don’t have to be shy around me.” Cassius retorted.

Sovvan laughed. “When I can see yours, I’ll show you mine. Until then, be happy I’m agreeing to stay. Now, shut the damn gate.”

It closed, and she sagged against the seat. She had to get out of her clothes. Thankfully they were loose. The front door opened and Faust’s familiar scent wrapped around her.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Sovvan.”

Me, too.
Then she gave into her wolf and let the change ripple over her. The combination of agony and ecstasy chased away the fear and anxiety of the attack. Her wolf huffed and dropped onto her belly. Head down, she sighed.
I really do hope I know what I’m doing.

O
nce the Omega
shifted inside the vehicle, Cassius remained at the site only until Cyril’s trucks began arriving under escort from a half a dozen Quinteros Hunters. The carnage would be erased, the bodies taken, identified, and returned to their families for burial or cremation. Her Hound kept their SUV running. The vehicle had taken some damage during the fight. After dispatching two Hunters for parts, he held them at the site for another thirty minutes then replaced the broken headlight and repaired the side mirror.

The last thing they needed was to be stopped on the way to Arizona. Bianca sat inside Jose’s hummer with the little girl. They’d cleaned her as best they could with the supplies on hand. Though her injuries were superficial, Cassius wanted her to remain with the healer. Caring for the little one would distract Bianca from the incident with the omega and provide the child supervision at the same time.

“Alpha, we are ready to go. I would like to offer my services to bring Bianca and the little one to Summit for you.” Jose Garcia’s overture, though not unexpected, still came across weary as though he carried the weight of the world in his voice. His youngest son was one of the dead. He hadn’t even known the twenty-two year old college student wasn’t at his university. No lie discolored Jose’s tone, yet no amount of kindness could explain his desire to abandon his family during their time of loss.

“Why?” Cassius studied him. Years of friendship and history aside, no man should leave their mate when their child perished—especially at the hands of their Alpha. To be honest, he had no idea who’d killed the Garcia’s son. It could have been the Hound or Sovvan, but Cassius accepted responsibility for all the deaths. His guests had been forced to defend themselves. He owned their actions.

“My family wants to act out. If I am with you, they will behave.” Garcia’s bluntness had always been one of his best qualities. “Hold me hostage if necessary, but I want no more Garcia blood spilled over the matter.”

Not something Cassius could guarantee him. “Did you know he was here?”

“No. When I sent Roberto home he didn’t mention his brother was here. I have to hope he did not know. I accept my son made choices I do not agree with and I accept that he is dead, but I will give no more of my children to this war, Cassius. Kill me if you have to make a point.” Defeat left his old friend pale, and lesser in so many ways. “Please allow me the opportunity to save them from themselves.”

He meant every word. Honesty rang in his voice and underscored his scent. Deception embedded in truth didn’t sound like a lie, yet it cut deeper. No matter their history, he couldn’t afford to trust Jose. “You’ll come, but you won’t drive and you won’t be in charge of their security.”

The last part of their convoy arrived on the heels of his statement—seven Hunters he’d sent for once he began the trek to meet the Omega. Their bikes rumbled in, trailing the big rigs navigated by Quinteros’ people.

Shaken, Jose bowed his head. “As you wish, Alpha.”

The Hunters peeled away from the trucks and roared toward him. Each of the seven, hand-picked by another Wolf, represented the best and brightest his pack had to offer. They also amounted to the only wolves he could trust with the particular task at hand.

“Trask,” he greeted the first wolf to park and dismount from his bike. From his broad shoulders to his balding pate, nothing about Trask suggested kindness or gentleness. He wore the scars of his service proudly, and his well-earned swagger declared his confidence in and out of battle. The big man clasped his hand in a fierce squeeze, then embraced him.

The hug Cassius shared with him had Jose retreating several steps, a wise move on his part considering his confession. “From the smell of it,” Trask said in a deep baritone. “You did not arrive in time to prevent the welcoming party from greeting your guests.”

“No,” Cassius agreed, releasing him with a hand clasp to his shoulder. “That is done. The dead will be sorted, and we need to get the Omega to Summit. Choose one of your men to leave his bike with the Quinteros, I need someone to drive Bianca and the child, Maddy, in Jose’s vehicle. Jose needs to ride with one of you as well.”

“Delroy,” Trask said, and snapped his fingers. “Get your bike to one of the trucks for delivery then escort the healer.”

“Yes, sir.” The wolf in questions saluted before he rode his bike away.

“JoJo, give Garcia a lift.” He didn’t hesitate or question why Cassius needed it done. “Anything else?”

“Guard the SUV while I wash up. We ride in five minutes.” He pointed the wolves toward the Omega’s vehicle, and Trask deployed them. Within seconds, four bikes took up cardinal positions. Leaving them to the job, he grabbed a duffel from his saddlebags, then strode toward the public restroom. Trask and his men had been recruited by Claire Webster—maybe befriended was a better term—during her tenure in Sutter Butte. They adored her, and she’d more than earned their loyalty. Before she returned to Willow Bend, she’d facilitated a meeting between her people and Cassius. In one clever move, she’d asked him to protect them and for them to follow him. The smart woman would have been perfect to help him accomplish the next part of his goals…

In the bathroom, he rinsed the blood from his hands and face. His jacket had taken the brunt of it, but it would clean up later. Stripping away the blood-soaked shirt, he tossed it in the other sink. It would have to be burned. Running the water again, he rinsed his hair then washed under his armpits. What he wanted was time for a shower, a cold beer and a real meal. He’d get none of those until Sovvan was safely installed at Summit behind a hundred of his best fighters.

After slicking his wet hair back from his face, he withdrew a clean shirt and pulled it over his head. He wiped down the sink then all the faucets to be on the safe side. The last thing he needed was fingerprints in the wrong place. With two minutes remaining until he said he’d be back, he pulled out his cell phone and typed a message to Claire.

I need you at Summit. Please.
After hitting send, he wrote a second message to Mason Clayborne.
I need Claire in Sutter Butte for a few weeks to help protect the Delta Crescent Omega, Sovvan Stark. I will protect Claire with my life, and I’ll extend the same protection to her mate. Name your price for the favor or consider it me owing you one.

It was long shot. Mason didn’t like him. Claire’s mate really didn’t like him—though Cassius suspected that was more for form’s sake than any real dislike on Tyler’s part. Claire, on the other hand, understood him. Duffel bag in hand, he left the bathroom and crossed the grounds toward his bike. The trucks had formed a barricade between the public portions of the rest area and the bodies. Already, the scent of blood diminished. In a few short hours, it would be erased completely. The wolves waited where he’d left them. Faust sat behind the wheel of Sovvan’s vehicle, Delroy in Jose’s hummer, while Jose stood next to JoJo, all waiting for the roll out order. The older wolf looked defeated. Once upon a time, it might have tugged on a past loyalty, a need to comfort—most alphas would take the time to look after their wolf. He’d seen it in Willow Bend, and he’d seen it in Delta Crescent.

Sutter Butte didn’t have time for empathy nor to pity the weak. His phone buzzed as he slid the duffel back into his bike’s saddlebag. The number wasn’t familiar, but he recognized the area code. “Mason.”

“You have the worst fucking timing, Cassius. Not to mention you contacted my wolf
before
you contacted me.” The snarl in Mason’s voice carried a lot of bark, but the fight left Cassius little patience for political correctness.

“Thirty seconds really getting your goat, Mason?” He grinned, amusing himself. It tempered his wolf’s vicious temper. “They have pills for that.”

“She has no interest in returning to Sutter Butte.”

“Claire’s a big girl; she can tell me no.” Offering an explanation otherwise would grate. Claire won his respect, as well as his admiration. She would also understand his request, while Mason… “I need her, Mason. My pack needs her. Serafina’s wolf needs her.” Every word tasted like acid on his tongue, but Delta Crescent and Willow Bend shared a tight alliance, thanks to Serafina’s mating to Linc—the brother of Mason’s second.

“At the moment, she’s discussing it with her mate.” Mason ground the words out between gritted teeth. Claire’s mate, Tyler, was the third of triplets, another link to Delta Crescent and Mason’s second. “Even if they agree, I may not. Claire is
my
Hunter now.”

“Is she? So, you finally recognized her value.” Good for Claire. During his visit, he’d been surprised to discover she held no major position outside of training their young. Nothing wrong with training kids, and Claire was good at it. Still, she was better suited to more challenging tasks.

“Cassius, why the hell would she return to your pack? For that matter, why would I let her go? It was the last place she wanted to be.” Despite the aggressiveness in his words, a measure of compassion softened his tone.

The last thing he wanted was Mason’s sympathy. “Let her or don’t,” he said, draining any ounce of caring from his voice. “I’ve made a request, and you can both respond as you see fit. If you need reparations, I will fulfill them. It really doesn’t matter to me.” Disconnecting the call on the little lie, he shoved the phone into his back pocket. “We need to move.” He called to the other wolves.

“Don’t forget, she needs food,” Faust informed him from the open window.

“We’ll get it.” He nodded, then straddled his bike. Fortunately, his wolves didn’t need to be told twice. By the time he got his bike started, they’d already formed a convoy with the Hunters on bikes taking all points head, between and behind.

Ten hours to get to Summit, with at least two stops for fuel and food, and a thousand or more wolves who wanted her dead before they got there. He opened the throttle on the bike and led the way. It promised to be a great ride.

T
he miles bled
past him in a blur. He guided the convoy along back roads where they could accelerate and avoided the main interstates. They passed through too many populated areas and would be under observation. Cassius knew every inch of his territory. He knew what roads connected to others, how to navigate along what amounted to dirt roads between two-lane routes forgotten by anything other than the most local of traffic. Traveling on the old bypasses took them through some desolate areas, with lower population density and fewer opportunities for ambush.

He stopped for fuel and food at an old diner outside Flatbush. The locals didn’t ask questions, avoided eye contact, served up food, bottles of water and took their money without comment. The Hound never left his vehicle, though he also tested every bit of food before passing it to the wolf in the darkened back.

Caution tempered Cassius’ curiosity about Sovvan’s wolf. She made next to no sound and never raised her head above the rear seats. If not for the scent of her, he wouldn’t have known she was in the car.

Jose stumbled wearily through the process of eating and drinking. Trask’s JoJo kept an eye on him while Delroy, like Faust, didn’t leave his charges. The child still slept, and Bianca’s troubled mood cast a pall over the rest. The difficulties of transport, engaging with an Omega, and dealing with betrayal, loss, and the potential for an outright rebellion weren’t the most auspicious beginnings to his endeavor.

Then again, he’d always understood they’d have to pay a price in blood. Allowing them only a fifteen-minute break—long enough to fuel, use the facilities and get food—Cassius ordered them back on the road. He could go—and had gone—days without sleep. Road grit stung his eyes and his cheeks ached from windburn. The scruff on his face thickened with every passing hour. By the time they reached Summit, he’d likely have a beard.

It could all wait, however. Once they were at Summit, and he had Sovvan behind its impregnable walls, he could afford the time to take care of some basic needs. The night surrendered to day as they crossed the border from New Mexico into Arizona. The blue-black sky retreated as the sun painted ribbons of color across the horizon. Desert sunrises were swift, bleeding the light across the day. The bike protested pinning the needle over a hundred as they began the climb into the northwest-trending escarpment between the higher-level Colorado Plateau and the lower level Basin and Range Province.

Far from Phoenix and the prying eyes of civilization—and far from the desert reaches of the Reaping—they followed a route from public to private land. Private investors owned nearly fifteen percent of the state of Arizona, Sutter Butte held thirteen percent via subsidiaries, shell corporations, and foundations. The paper trail would leave investigators scratching their heads, but they always paid taxes promptly and donated generously to law enforcement and social services. It kept the wheels greased, and the humans from interfering with them.

Now and again, a gang would try to roust his territory, and Cassius took special pleasure in putting them down. The ascent included switchbacks, which forced the convoy to slow, but he cruised the curves with a rising sense of exhilaration. The sun warmed his back, and he fought the urge to lean forward.

At the top of the rise, they would reach Summit—a carefully cultivated desert jewel, tucked away atop a mesa once only accessible by climbing the rock face. Over time, and with thousands of man-hours, they’d crafted pathways, and switchbacks rolling through the surrounding hills to achieve their goal. Occasionally, Cassius climbed it to prove he could.

Today wasn’t a day for such distractions. The higher they traveled, the more prevalent the scrub brush interspersed with real green. They’d planted trees in their town, tended them, and drilled for water so they didn’t have to truck it in. The road narrowed as they reached the main gates—tall, imposing and utterly impenetrable without a tank or perhaps C-4, according to more than one of his returning vets. Like the walls housing them, the gates were three feet thick and included steel reinforcement. He’d supervised their construction several years earlier.