Never Cry Wolf (3 page)

Authors: Cynthia Eden

BOOK: Never Cry Wolf

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“Go!”

The young wolf pushed against his leg—
letting me know he’s pissed, ’cause Jordan hates when I boss his ass—
and then the wolf backed away.

“Now for you, sweetheart.” His fingers tightened. “Why don’t we just go back to that part about you not being human?”

Her lips parted. She had nice lips—sexy and plump. He shouldn’t be noticing them, not then, but he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about her. The gold hoops in her dainty ears. The streaks of gold buried deep in her dark hair. The lotion she’d rubbed on her body—that vanilla scent was driving him wild.

He was turned on, achingly hard, for a woman he barely knew. Not normally a big deal. He had a more than healthy sex drive. Most shifters did. The animal inside liked to play.

But Sarah . . . he didn’t
trust
her, not for a minute, and he didn’t usually have sex with women he didn’t trust. A man could be vulnerable to attack when he was fucking.

“You know what I am, Lucas,” she said and shrugged, the move both careless and fake because he knew that she cared, too much.

“
Tell me.
” Her mouth was so close. He could still taste her. That kiss earlier had just been a tease.
Want more.

“I’m a charmer,” she whispered.

A charmer. The weakest of the paranormals, and, in his mind, the damn sneakiest. Charmers blended the best with the humans. They got to live in the bright, fake world of date nights and football games. They passed as humans all the time, had all the perks of human life, but charmers had magic inside, weak, but still there.

Charmers were able to communicate telepathically with animals. To “talk” with them. Each charmer had one type of animal that she or he could talk with—some spoke to bears, tigers, hell, he’d even known one lady down in the South who could talk snake to a Burmese python.

“Who do you talk to?” Because his suspicion couldn’t be right. No way.
It was impossible.

She bit her lower lip. That sexy, red lip—

Shit.

He kissed her. Lucas crushed his mouth against hers and let the hunger take over—the hunger that had been building the whole time he’d been trapped beside her in that SUV, trapped with her soft flesh so close and her sexy scent surrounding him.

He’d had a piss-poor day. Time to stop playing nice and get back to doing things
his
way.

Hard and dirty.

Her mouth opened, lips quivering.
Perfect.
His tongue swept inside, driving deep. Her kiss wouldn’t be as good as before. Couldn’t be. He’d imagined that lick of fire, that wild arousal, that—

His cock jerked.
Dammit.

Her breasts pushed against him, nipples tight and pebbled. The scent of her arousal teased his nostrils, and Lucas realized he was in serious trouble.

Just as bad as before.
No, just as good, and that equaled one big-ass problem.

Growling, he pulled back. “Who . . .” He swallowed, and tried to sound more like a man than a beast as he demanded, “Who do you talk with?” Who, what—same thing in his world.

Her lips were red, swollen, and her eyes were so wide. “Wolves.” Her voice was husky, tinged with the same need that had him aching.

Hell.

A new worry shot through him. “My kind . . . can you—” He wanted her mouth again.
Soon.
“Can you read us when we’re in human form?”

A slow shake of her head. “No. Only when you’re the wolf.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her.

But he still freed her and stepped back. Because if he didn’t, Lucas knew he would have taken those lips again, and he wouldn’t have stopped with such a simple taste.

“Go inside. There’s a room on the second floor, to the right of the stairs—you can use it, for now.” Until he figured out exactly what was happening and how to get the price off her head.

Why do I care?

Because she
had
saved him at the jail. While he’d denied it to her, he did follow pack law. Up to a point.

Lucas turned away from her. He’d need to send Jordan someplace safe. Until this shit was smoothed over, he wasn’t going to risk his brother.

He’d almost lost him before. No way was he going to put his brother in harm’s way again.

“Is having sex with you the price of protection?”

Her voice froze him. Then anger ripped through his gut. He glanced back at her, frowning. “If it is?”

The wind tossed her hair. The moonlight glittered in her eyes. “I didn’t realize you were that hard up, wolf.”

He almost smiled.
Nice bite.
He loved women who knew how to fight. “You’re not gonna have sex with me because you want a safe place to hide.” And hiding, yeah, he knew that was what his little charmer was doing. Hiding with the big, bad wolf.

“Good to know, I—”

“You’re gonna have sex with me because you want me, just as badly as I want you.” Immediate attraction. Animal lust—that’s what his kind called it. Sometimes, the beast inside just recognized a perfect sensual partner.

In bed, he bet they’d be great. He couldn’t wait to have her, naked and hungry, in a big, soft bed. Or maybe out in the open, beneath his glowing moon. Either way, he
would
have her.

He paused, waited for her denial.

Sarah headed for the house. “Keep hoping, wolf.”

Her arousal, the rich scent of woman, teased his nose. He smiled. “I will, babe, I will.”

Chapter 3

W
aking up to find yourself in a wolf’s den wasn’t the best experience, but, hey, it was better than being dead.

The next day, Sarah crept down the stairs, all too aware of the silence in the house. After he’d dropped his little sexual bombshell, she hadn’t spoken to Lucas again last night. She’d kept silent because, mostly, because he was right.

She did want him. Arrogant bastard.

She’d been thinking about him for months. Ever since she’d first seen his picture and heard the tales of the LA alpha.

His father had been slaughtered when Lucas was ten. Killed by the leader of a rival pack who’d wanted to claim the LA territory.

If the tales were true, and, after meeting the man, Sarah figured they had to be, Lucas had gone after his father’s killer. He’d attacked a full-grown wolf shifter, in human form—and the form of a ten-year-old boy really wasn’t that tough. Lucas had somehow survived that fight. He’d escaped death and disappeared from LA for six years.

At sixteen, he’d come back, and the shifter who’d murdered his father had been dead within an hour of his return. In the seventeen years since, he’d been the wolf running these streets.

So, okay, she had more than a little crush on the guy. A crush that had caused her to risk her ass when she found out he was in danger. She still couldn’t believe she’d driven all the way from Arizona to try and save him.

Well,
his
life—and her own skin.

Sarah reached the bottom of the stairs. “Hello! Lucas?” He’d better not have gone hunting without her.

“You’re pretty in the morning.” His voice came from the right. He stepped from the kitchen, crossed his arms, and studied her. “But I think I liked the other outfit better.”

She’d tossed on the jeans and t-shirt she’d stuffed into her travel bag. Since her goal today wasn’t seduction—not her main goal, anyway—she’d been glad to get back into her casual clothes.

Her hands dug into her back pockets. “I—um, thought you had already left.”

His lips curled. “I’ll be hunting soon enough.”

Sarah didn’t doubt it.

“Confession time, huh, sweet Sarah?”

She nodded. They needed to talk today, to plan and to attack. Because, once night fell, she knew more coyotes would be coming after her.

And him.

So where should she start?

“Tell me about the dead man.” He leaned back against the doorframe.

All right. That was one place to start. She cleared her throat. Took a nice slow breath.
He’ll know when I lie.
Well, he’d know, unless she was very, very careful. “John Turner was . . . like me.”

“A wolf charmer?”

“He was a charmer, yes, but the coyote was his linked animal. He worked with them.” Because every charmer she’d met had a primary link. Some could pick up thoughts from a few other beasts, but one animal was always primary, with a link so strong it took no effort to form the connection.

“Worked with?” Lucas repeated carefully.

Ah, now she had to be very careful because “worked with” was actually a nice euphemism for John’s spy work. When the coyotes got together for their hunts with other factions, John had always been there. Pretending to be a guard, but secretly picking up the thoughts of all the coyote shifters there and reporting back to his coyote leader.

Charmer spies were valuable commodities in the shifter world. Because when the beasts roamed free, it was so easy to discover what lies the men had been keeping.

“The dead guy was spying on coyote packs?”

Lucas obviously knew the score. She nodded.

“While he was . . . working, John got word of a planned attack in LA.” No sense sugar-coating. If she hadn’t been so tired lasted night, she would have gotten all this crap out into the open then. But she’d been running on fumes and the minute she’d found the bed, one that held John’s wild scent, she’d crashed.

It had been the first time she’d slept in the last thirty-six hours.

“John picked up the thoughts of a coyote named Hayden. The guy wanted more power.” Hayden. She’d met the jerk a few times. Squinty eyes. Handsome face. Evil grin. “He thought if he pulled off a coup here, he could start his own faction.” And then the coyotes could take back the power they’d lost to the wolves in LA.

“I’ve got a pact with the coyotes. They stay out of my space and I stay out of theirs.” Hard. Angry. He wasn’t slumping against the wooden frame any longer. His body stood at full attention, his broad shoulders filling the doorway.

“I hate to tell you,” she murmured, “but that truce is pretty much worthless.” To Hayden, anyway. “Hayden found out that John was onto his plans and he put a price on his head.”

“Like the price that’s on yours?”

Unfortunately, yes. That was the way the coyotes liked to play. A price would be put on prey. Then the hunt would begin.

She took a quick breath. “John thought his best chance of survival was coming here, telling you what was happening . . .”

“And getting my pack to watch his ass.”

The way she hoped they’d watch hers. “Yes.”

He strode toward her. “And where do you fit into all this? Why are they after
you
?”

“Because I know the attack isn’t just coming from the coyotes.” Bad enough, but . . . “Hayden is working with wolves—they are coming for you, too.” Wolves she knew. Wolves she’d trusted, once.

Then she’d seen their true nature.

“A war is coming to this town, Lucas. You’re going to get slammed from both sides.” This time, she sucked in a deep, gulping breath.
Confession.
“I know the wolf who’s leading the charge.”

“Know him?”

Not going to lie.
A lie wouldn’t work with him. She stepped away from the stairs and headed closer to him. “He was my lover.” He’d also used her to spy. At first, she hadn’t minded. Not like spying was new for her. Besides, she’d been so happy to find someone who didn’t think she was some kind of freak.

And he’d been a wolf. It had seemed so perfect. As if he were made for her.

Then the killings had started.

She’d realized he wasn’t so perfect after all.

Sarah had gotten away from him, barely, but he was out there, and closing in—on her and Lucas.

“
Your lover.”
A growl. “You like to play with wolves, do you?”

Sarah kept her chin up even as her hands clenched into fists. “John died trying to save your ass.”

Black brows rose. “Sounds like he died trying to save his own ass.” He walked around her, circling like the wolf he was as he closed in on his prey. His gaze raked her, head to toe, lingering a bit too long on her breasts and hips.

Sarah was all too aware that they were alone and that Lucas could rip her apart with one swipe of his claws. She knew first-hand just how strong a wolf shifter’s claws could be. The mark on her back had only healed a few weeks ago.

He circled her once more, then stopped just behind her. His breath stirred the hair near her ear as he said, “Tell me the wolf’s name.”

Not yet. Because wolves had a tendency to stick together, and she didn’t want to find herself on the outside, with two packs sizing her up. “Do you believe me?”

“I believe you’ve managed to piss off the coyotes.”

Not close to being good enough. She turned her head a bit and met his stare. “I’m a charmer. I can read the minds of wolves.”

“Then read my mind.” A taunt, one laced with sensual menace.

Her eyes narrowed. “I can’t read you when you’re in human form, you have to
shift
first.”

“I’ve heard there are only a handful of charmers in the world who can read a shifter’s mind.” The doubt was obvious. “Most charmers stick to
real
animals.”

“Shifters
are
real animals.” The insult burst out automatically, but she’d seen too much to think otherwise.

His lips curled, revealing the sharp tips of his canines. “That we are.” He leaned closer and she caught the soft inhale as he scented her hair.

Sarah held her body very, very still as his mouth came close to her throat. His lips feathered over her, pressing lightly against the side of her neck.

If he wanted, he could rip her throat open. But she knew what this move was about. Damn pack rules.

Dominance. Submission.
Lucas was the freaking alpha, her only hope for living out the next forty-eight hours. So she had to play the game.

Sarah tipped back her head, baring her throat in a gesture she knew he’d understand.

A rumble slipped from his mouth and seemed to vibrate on her skin. She felt the light nip of his teeth, and, damn it all, a shot of heat streaked through her body.
Can’t want him. Can’t trust him. Can only use him and walk away.

His tongue swiped over her throat, licking the small wound. “His scent’s not on you.”

It took a second for his words to register, a second too long, because Lucas caught her arms and yanked her around to face him.

He bent toward her, bringing his eyes close to hers. “Babe, I know wolf shifters. If we’re fucking, we’re marking our partners. If you had a wolf lover, his scent would be all over you.”

Bastard. “Only if we’d been together in the last month. It’s been four months since I got the hell away from him.” Partial truth.

His nostrils flared.
Smell a lie . . .

“I’m telling you the truth.” If she said it, maybe he’d buy it. “You’re in danger, your pack’s in danger and—”

“We’ll see.” His hand lowered and snagged her wrist. “I think a little test is in order.” He pulled her with him.

What? A test? “Lucas—”

But he didn’t stop. His grip was freaking unbreakable, because she really did try every way possible to break it. He led her through the house, dragged her outside, hauled her down the hill—and ignored her shouts to explain
what the hell he was doing.

When they burst through the brush and into the small clearing and four wolves—huge, furry beasts with saliva dripping from their teeth—lunged toward them, Sarah finally understood her little “test.”

The wolves circled them. She couldn’t help it. Sarah inched closer to Lucas. Two of the wolves were black. Two were solid white. All looked like they’d been taking some kind of shifter steroids. Way too large for normal wolves. She swallowed.

“Let’s see what part of your story was true,” Lucas said, “and what part was bullshit.”

He freed her wrist. Then the guy stepped away from her. Far away. He left her in the middle of that circle of wolves and the animals closed in.

“The bitch made contact with Simone.”

The coyote leader lifted his brows at that. “So she’s dead?” Good. One less worry for him. Of course, picking up the bounty on her head would have been a nice bonus, and killing her would have given them a good in with the other wolves but . . .

The coyote shifter in front of him raised his head, and the guy’s thick, dirty brown hair scraped across his shoulders. “Simone didn’t kill her,” Marcus DePaul confessed.

Very, very slowly, Jess Ortez lowered the shot glass he’d lifted to his mouth. “He didn’t kill her,” he repeated softly. “You didn’t kill her . . . so what the fuck happened to Sarah King?”

“Sh-she’s under his protection. They were together. I-I followed ’em to the park, tried to get her—”

Oh, shit. His head began to throb. “You weren’t stupid enough to attack when Lucas Simone was there.”

But the idiot’s trembling lips told him that, yes, he had been. Fuck. The glass started to crack. “We’ve got a truce with him!” He threw the glass back over the bar.

“But Alpha, I thought you wanted—”

Jess lunged forward and caught the shifter’s head in his hands. He stared into Marcus’s eyes. “Don’t think.” One twist, that’s all it would take and he’d snap the wiry bastard’s neck. “You’re not supposed to think. You’re just supposed to do whatever the hell I tell you.”

That was the whole point in being the coyote alpha, right? He gave the orders, all the other bastards rushed to obey, and if they didn’t rush fast enough, he killed them.

Sweat trickled down the dumb bastard’s face. “P-please . . .”

“Does Lucas know I’m here?”

“I don’t th-think—”

His fingers tightened.

“No! He just—he must have figured we were just hunting! Said if he saw me or Grimes again, we were dead.”

Not as bad as it could be, but still . . . now the wolf would be on guard and if that bitch managed to get him to believe
her
story . . .

Screwed.