Pricolici (8 page)

Grecia looked relieved, even though she’d said he was in no danger.

Tucker stormed to the door. The cool night air felt nice against his heated skin, but it did nothing for his temper. What he’d learned of Stelian and his haitas made him seem like a good alpha, but he was tired of being treated like he was the man’s boy toy that needed to be protected.

“Tucker! You said you wouldn’t try to take off.” Grecia caught up to Tucker just as he reached corner of the next block over.

“I said I was leaving, and I went out the front door. How is that taking off? Did you stay to talk about Stelian’s unmarked mate who wouldn’t stay home where he was safe some more?”

“It’s not like that. Look, I don’t know what the alpha of your old haitas was like, or if he was mated, but when an alpha has put a claim on a mate and not marked them, they’re easy to set off. No lupe likes to feel threatened. Stelian has a shit load of control, but he said no guards were to come near the house—just because you were there.”

“I just… I need a dose of normal. Do you have any idea of the fucked up week I’ve had? I wanted to have a drink and listen to some music. That’s all.”

Grecia shook her head. “You’re not normal, Tucker. You need to understand that.”

“Great. My whole life other lupes have treated me like I don’t belong. I’m sick of it.” At least he knew what Grecia really thought of him. Damn. He’d just started to like her, too. Tucker took off across the street and down an alley.

“Hey. Tucker! Stop!” Grecia grabbed him. He might not be as good as a lupe, but he was still fast. Tucker had a lot of practice running. “You said you wouldn’t try to sneak off.”

Snarling, he shrugged Grecia’s arm off his shoulder. “I won’t, but I don’t want to talk to you at the moment. I want some time to myself.”

“I can’t let you wander off, Tucker. And running off down a dark alley in unfamiliar territory? That’s just stupid.” She looked over her shoulder into the darkness behind them.

Tucker started walking again. “Whatever. Do you honestly think someone is lurking out here, just waiting for us? No one knows what I look like in person except for you and Stelian. And now that guy, what’s his name? Corrado. Or do you think he’s some sort of spy for Phell?”

Grecia scoffed. “Of course not.”

“Then if you think it’s that dangerous, why did you agree to come anyway?”

“You said you just wanted to get your stuff, not go in the club!”

Tucker narrowed his eyes and glared at her. “Then it’s me you don’t trust. I said I’d go back. I’m not a petulant child who’s going to run away because I’m not happy. So much for you not being a babysitter.”

“I’m not—”

“Save it. Our cars are just up the block. Let’s just go.”

He ignored Grecia. She had to walk fast to keep up, but he didn’t slow down until they got to his truck. He unlocked, climbing inside. “Look, it’s not your fault, but I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll follow you back.”

She looked like she was going to protest, but Tucker shut the door. He started the engine, then stared at her through the window. She scowled, but jogged up to her car, pulling out her phone as she got in. Tucker hadn’t paid nearly enough attention on the way there, so he followed her close but kept an eye on the street signs.

The third time he checked his mirror after they turned, to check for landmarks, he noticed a car behind him that kept making the same turns. Tucker scowled.

“She believes me. Right.” Tucker was tempted to drive off, just for spite. He clenched his hands on the steering wheel. “Stelian’s gonna get a piece of my mind when he gets back.”

Chapter Seven

That night as Tucker lay in the bed in the guest room, he thought about everything he’d learned.  Tucker was disgusted at how much the ancient lupe sounded like his perfect match. For someone who loved to feel the weight of history, he hated the customs the haitas followed, especially when it came to mates. He’d always thought the whole concept of just knowing a person is right for you to be a crock of shit.

Grecia had cornered him after they got back and apologized. He had grudgingly accepted, not wanting to look childish. It wasn’t her fault, after all. She seemed to sense his anger with Stelian. Over drinks she made from the bar in the corner of the living, Grecia told him a lot about Stelian and how lonely and unhappy he’d been in recent years. The lupes in his haitas wanted him to be happy, and the announcement that he’d found a mate had pleased them all. No one wanted anything to happen to Tucker, which was why they seemed so protective.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Tucker. What he was forced to reluctantly acknowledge was that he actually believed Grecia.

Dominant and forceful, Stelian was almost instantly obeyed by the lupes in his haitas. Tucker had seen that for himself. He owned the club, several bars, and was the business agent for the werewolf band, Daos. He also ran the oldest haitas known to Daoi in America, and had for hundreds of years. The kind of power he had—Tucker shivered. He knew it made him an idiot, but he found the way the lupe had of dominating him arousing in ways he didn’t really understand.

The longer he lay there awake, the worse the ache became. He rolled over and sighed as he looked up at the ceiling. There was no way he was going to get to sleep with his cock hard as a rock and throbbing. He thrust a hand under the covers and palmed his dick. Closing his eyes, he began stroking as he gave in and pictured the strong, muscular body of the alpha who wanted to claim him.

He used his other hand to pinch and twist his nipples and stroke the skin of his chest and neck.

He fingered the hickey Stelian had left on him that morning. It was easy to remember the hot body surrounding him, and the vulnerable feeling he had when Stelian had taken his throat in his teeth and then pulled back to mark him before they were interrupted.

A moan slipped out as he imagined what Stelian might have done if they hadn't been stopped by the guard. He might have circled around behind him and thrust that thick erection against Tucker's ass before stripping off their shirts and running his strong hands up and down as he touched and caressed Tucker’s tight muscles.

Tucker's hand moved faster.

He'd nip and kiss Tucker's shoulders until they were both moaning, and then he would take off their pants. The porch railing was the perfect height, and Tucker imagined his stomach bent over it as Stelian stepped between his legs, forcing them open wider.

So close… He whimpered as he added a twist of his wrist at the head of his dick on the next upstroke.

His mate would enter him at the same moment his teeth bit down on his shoulder, the stinging pain lost in the pleasure of being taken, being possessed by such a strong male. Stelian's hips would rock against his ass as he claimed him, his wolf's fangs buried deep in his shoulder; his control gone as they would both come violently.

The thought of his blood filling Stelian's mouth as the man's come shot against his insides sent Tucker over the edge. He stiffened and his hand faltered as his hips thrust up in the air. He bit back a cry, not wanting Grecia to burst in on him shooting all over his chest. Tucker panted as the waves of pleasure slowed, and his body relaxed. Damn… he did protest too much.

He was so screwed
.

The loud bang of a gun from down the hall and vicious growling woke Tucker up a few hours later. He jerked out of the bed and threw on a pair of sweats. Creeping to the door, he opened it an inch and looked out. A large lupe in his hybrid form came out of Stelian's bedroom where Tucker heard the shots coming from. Blood oozed down one shoulder from a bullet wound.

Tucker gasped, and the lupe's head whipped around. Tucker slammed the door shut and shoved the desk back in place, just in the nick of time. A heavy weight slammed against the door.

“Little lupe, little lupe, let me in,” said a distorted voice. The lupe’s voice was twisted by his short muzzle into a not-quite-human snarl.

Tucker snorted.
Original.
“Not likely!”

The sound of claws scraping the wood startled Tucker. He backed away from the door, listening to hear if the lupe would attack it again. He couldn't hear anything, and he thought suddenly of Grecia. She had a gun and had obviously shot the strange male, but he hadn’t heard her voice. Had the lupe shot back and killed her? Tucker hoped she was okay. He’d resented her presence at first, but by the end of the night he’d really liked her. He glanced at the window, but he was leery of the drop from the second floor.

Damn it. He had to get out of there.

With the lupe in his stronger hybrid form, there was no way Tucker could fight him off, even if he shifted. His wolf couldn’t work doors or windows, so he was stuck as a human.  A cross between wolf and human form, the hybrid had claws and sharp fangs, but Tucker couldn’t manage that transformation—one of the reasons why his old haitas thought he was submissive.

The half-shifted lupe’s body was a hybrid of his wolf and human forms, and he could run faster than Tucker if he tried to run without a hell of a head start. Tucker watched the door, hoping it was strong enough to keep the lupe back. If he tried to escape out the window and fell wrong, he’d be helpless. Even if he made it, his only hope would be to get to his truck.

“Oh fuck.” The first time he'd talked to Grecia, she'd told him about the other entrance to his room. Did the lupe know about it? If the lupe was Phell or one of his haitas, he could. The house was an old, southern manor house—clearly old, old enough for Stelian to own it when Phell was still a member of his haitas. Tucker raced through the bathroom, toward the adjoining door, but it slammed open right as he reached it, knocking him into the wall. A sharp pain spiked through the back of his head as he crashed against the mirror. It cracked and broke into pieces, raining down on the carpet all around him.

“Fuck!” Tucker yelled. His head throbbed, and nausea twisted his stomach. He gagged and fell to his knees. One piece of glass sliced through the fabric of his sweats and into his knee, and he yelled again.

“There you are, little lupe.” The hybrid lupe came for him, and Tucker scrambled back. The male’s yellow eyes bore into him, and his sharp fangs glistened in the moon as he snarled. Tucker had to try to get away, even though he knew it was probably hopeless. Limping, he tried to circle around the lupe to get to the broken bathroom door, but he wasn't fast enough. Crying out, he yanked against the tight hold the lupe had on his wrist, almost pulling away, but sharp claws dug into the skin. The pain made him freeze as blood began to drip on to the floor.

“Stop fighting me. You're mine now,” the lupe snarled. He sniffed. “And what a prize you are. He didn’t even try to hide you; I recognized the address as soon as my man told me where you’d gone after you left the bar. I almost didn’t believe him. But you’re a hultan? What are the odds?”

He stared at Tucker's chest and neck and licked his lips. “Plus Stelian really hasn't marked you yet,” he crowed. “How stupid of him. I think I'll make you mine instead of killing you. That will be a much better punishment.”

“No!” This had to be Phell. The male looked and smelled wrong. Tucker couldn’t believe that he’d told Stelian that Phell was probably an innocent. He could not have been more wrong. Maybe fatally so. Insanity had its own scent, and it was all over the bleeding lupe.

Spit flew as the crazed lupe laughed. The dark sound sent a shiver down Tucker’s spine. Phell’s nose wrinkled as he hauled Tucker close to his body. Spit dripped on Tucker’s shoulder as the male sniffed at him. “You smell good.”

Gagging, Tucker tried to shove him away. Phell smelled like something rotten had taken up residence in his mouth. “Why are you doing this?” Tucker cried as he continued to struggle.

Phell began to drag him out of the room. “Because he deserves it. All the power he has, going to waste. We can see he isn't fit to wield it. We are Daoi, werewolves! We've existed for thousands of years, hiding from the humans when we should be ruling over them as the stronger species. Our powers have dwindled, but I knew I could beat him. Now that I found you, I can do so much to further our cause.”

Tucker couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He grabbed onto the banister at the bottom of the stairs but Phell was so strong, partially changed, that there was no way Tucker could get away. He dug his feet in much as he could, fighting, ignoring the pain from Phell’s claws in his arm, but nothing worked. He couldn’t get free.

Phell ignored his efforts to get loose as he continued to rant. “With you at my side I can take over all of the haitas and make them mine. One huge pack that will overwhelm the humans and put them in their place. No more will they go hunting wolves and accidentally shoot our kind, no more hiding in fear from the stinking creatures. We'll rule them instead."

Phell continued to rave as he towed Tucker out of the house, spewing his clichéd megalomaniac propaganda. His wound didn't seem to bother him at all. He went straight for the front door, not even attempting to make a stealthy retreat. Tucker could barely keep on his feet as his head spun.

Where were Grecia and all the guards on the property? Where was Stelian? Had Phell done something to him? Tucker hoped he was okay, and that he would come for him before this maniac could mate them. He tried a final time to stop the inexorable march outside, holding onto the porch column, but even with a gunshot wound the male was stronger than he was.

He looked up.
A full moon.

Shit!
If Phell bit him and got his haitas to acknowledge the link….

Tucker lurched and wrapped his arm around one of the columns. The lupe holding him yanked violently, and Tucker lost his one-handed grip. He tumbled down the steps and fell hard to his knees on the gravel walkway. Blood dripped onto the rocks from the cut on his knee as the gravel ground into his flesh. Tucker cried out as his arm was wrenched up behind his back by the lupe now standing behind him.

“Get up. Walk. There’s a clearing in the woods ahead. We’ll mate there.”

Tucker winced as he stepped on rocks and pine cones with his bare feet. He walked as slowly as he could, but Phell pushed him forward, keeping his arm twisted behind his back so Tucker had no hope of getting away. He knew he’d only get a broken arm if he tried.

“Where are you, Stelian?” Tucker muttered under his breath. He focused on the ancient lupe, trying to connect with him, astral project or something. Anything to tell Stelian where this maniac was taking him—if he was close enough to reach them, he had to know how to find Tucker if he was going to save him.

Phell laughed. “You'll be waiting for a long time if you think he's going to be coming. I left him a little…distraction… at the first place I hunted tonight. I'm going to take you away from Stelian and make you my mate in the haitas' ceremonial spot. If he lives, he'll know I made you mine, but he won’t be able to do anything about it. He won't dare challenge me with a hultan at my side.”

Despair swamp him. He was on his own and there was no way he could fight off the much larger lupe. Rain began to fall in a soft patter. Tucker felt hot tears slide down his cheeks to mix with the cool raindrops. He stumbled to a halt in a small clearing a few hundred yards from the house. The full moon bathed the raindrops on the grass with a silvery glow, but the beauty of the scene was lost on Tucker.

Still holding his arm locked, the lupe reached around Tucker and raked at the tie of his sweats. He slid a claw inside the waistband and sliced right through the knot. His pants barely hung onto his lean hips. One push and they fell to Tucker's knees, exposing him to the cool night air.

Tucker lost the calm he’d struggled to hold on to. A moan broke through his clenched teeth, and he fought with all he had. He kicked backward at Phell, but missed his knee. Flinging his head back, Tucker tried to nail Phell in the face, but the lupe was too tall. Phell pulled his arm up higher, snarling. “Stop fighting it.”

Tucker tried to lunge away from the grip, unwilling to just give in. He couldn’t. He screamed with pain as his shoulder popped.

White hot agony blinded him. The lupe let go of his arm and it dangled, limp. Tucker reached for his arm, but didn’t touch it.  His shoulder was a misshapen lump—Phell had dislocated the joint. He stumbled back, fighting the pain screaming through his body, as Phell snarled and took a step toward him. His arm swung loose, and Tucker cried out again. The pain from the dislocation was so bad Tucker's head swam, and he could barely see. He tried running anyway, but he got only two steps away before he was tackled to the ground.

His breath locked in his chest. He’d never felt anything so painful, not even the last beating in his old haitas.

He writhed in pain and panic, feeling the insane lupe's erection grow and press against his ass as Phell rubbed against him. Tucker finally sucked in enough air to speak.

“No!” His breath came in short gasps. The pain mixed with Phell’s heavy weight constricted his lungs. “Get off me!” The feeling of another male touching him made him want to vomit. He couldn’t lie still, no matter how much it hurt.
“Fight all you want, little lupe. You'll only make this hurt more. Not that I'll mind that. I can't wait to hear you scream again.” Phell ground his hips, making Tucker gasp as a rock dug painfully into his hip, hard enough he knew it would leave a deep bruise. His pants were torn and already slid down, under his ass. Tucker’s underwear was the only thing protecting him from the rape the crazy lupe intended.