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Authors: Afton Locke

Tags: #Black Hills Wolves

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BOOK: Rebel's Claw
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Refugees
. The word slammed Roark in the stomach. When would he wake up from this nightmare? He gripped the rough trunk of a nearby pine tree and leaned his weight against it.

Lara studied the plat. “I hate to bring it up, but the project is going to cost money.”

Drew nodded, his face serious in the morning sunlight. “The Lamar pack should sell as many assets as it can. Jobs in Los Lobos should be plentiful, and we can work out some loans, if necessary.”

“Thank you again for your generosity,” Lara said, gripping his arm.

“You’re one of us now. A good pack looks after its own.”

“Are we about done here?” Ogden glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to the mill.”

“Almost.” Drew pulled a penknife from his pocket and held it out to Roark. “If you’re ready to do the blood oath, swearing allegiance to the Tao pack, we can get the show on the road.”

Roark’s head pounded hard enough to split open. “I-I can’t.”

“You have to!” Lara stamped her foot. “Don’t screw this up for everyone.”

He shrugged. “I’m not preventing the others from doing it.”

Sunlight glinted off her red streak. “I’m ordering you to.”

“You’re not my Alpha anymore.”

But he did need one. Maybe he should be his own Alpha in a one-wolf pack. Speaking of Wolves, enough tension vibrated the air to send each of them into a shift.

She stepped closer, facing him as she clenched her fists. “That was a low blow.”

Roark glanced at the other two men. “Can you give us a minute?”

Drew pocketed the knife and walked several yards away with Ogden, leaving Roark alone with Lara.

“Don’t be an ass, Roark,” she hissed. “We’re out of options. If we piss Drew off, he might take back his kind offer. The Tao pack is very secretive.”

“I know all that.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “But I can’t do it.”

“Is your reluctance because of Jared?” she asked in a gentler voice.

The name of his lifelong best friend shimmered in the cool air, haunting him still.

“I have to find out what happened to him. If someone took his life, I need to find his killer and make him pay.”

She gripped the braids on each side of his face. “He’s been gone for three years. Time to let it go.”

“Easy for you to say.” He removed her hands. “You had closure with Aunt Tara. A body to bury.”

Instead, he had a void where his strong telepathic link with his friend used to be. After hundreds of tries to make contact, he’d finally given up and concluded Jared must be dead. Because so many Lamar had been mowed down by ranchers and hunters, he feared his buddy had suffered the same fate.

Her gray eyes glittered as she enunciated each word. “There was nothing easy about my mother’s death.”

Maybe she was right. She’d watched her mother die and had almost fallen prey to the killer herself when she’d pursued revenge. Jared could have merely had a health problem or an accident.

He might believe that…if his best friend hadn’t sent him a telepathic image of a green horseshoe and the word
Lucky
before Jared disappeared. Bars were full of colorful signs like that. They were full of wolf-hating ranchers with guns, too. Roark must have checked out every bar in a hundred-mile radius of Yellowstone, searching for it, but he’d never found it.

The other men approached.

“I’ve really got to get back,” Ogden told Drew. “Maybe he can take the oath later?”

“Or not at all,” Roark muttered under his breath.

Drew rested his hands on his hips, too. “I can give you some time, if needed, but lose the attitude. We’ve all been through some shit in our lives.”

His eyes were as haunted as Lara’s, making him wonder exactly what kind of shit he’d been through. Roark had to admit, the guy wasn’t a bad Alpha. Strong but not looking for a fight. For Lara’s sake, he’d try to play nice. After all, a pack with no identity was probably better off than a dead one.

“Sorry, man,” he managed to say. “This isn’t easy, you know?”

“Roark is very proud,” Lara added.

“No one is forcing you to join the Tao pack,” Drew said. “But you’ll be barred from entry here if you’re not one of us.”

Lara fixed him with a pleading gray stare. Could he really turn his back on what little family he had left?

Roark glanced up at the trees and let out a breath. “Give me some time, okay?”

“No problem,” Drew replied. “I’ll inform Ryker, our Enforcer. Be careful not to piss him off, though, or you’ll wear out your welcome real fast.”

“So, let’s get started,” Lara said, smiling. “We’ll need to go to Cody, rent a moving van, and load up the first few families.”

Roark grinned, too. “You’ll never get a moving van up here.”

“We’ll have to off-load the stuff into four-wheel-drive trucks,” Ogden said.

“I’ll take care of it,” Roark offered. “It’ll give me a chance to see my home again.”

And make one last-ditch effort to find out what had happened to his friend.

“When do you want to leave?” Lara asked. “Tomorrow morning?”

He shook his head. “I have to do this alone. Besides, Ogden needs you here.”

Love flickered in the other man’s eyes.
Lucky son of a bitch
. Roark needed revenge, not a mate.

“Sounds like a plan,” Drew said. “I prefer your pack mates agree to the blood oath before they arrive.”

Ogden pulled his wallet from his faded jeans and held out several bills. For a moment, Roark stared then finally accepted the cash. Truck rental, gas, and food would cost more money than he had. Might be different if he could hold down a job. He’d done plenty of whoring, boozing, and drag racing with Jared when he was alive. Since his death, he’d done nothing.

“One last thing,” Drew said. “Secrecy is critical to the Tao pack. You’re bound to keep everything you’ve seen and heard here to yourself.”

“Deal.” Roark even shook his hand.

“Don’t worry,” Lara said. “My cousin might be a pain in the ass, but his word is as good as gold.”

Damn straight, which was why he refused to cut his arm and mingle his blood with Drew’s until he was really sure.

They piled into Drew’s SUV to return to Los Lobos. Roark would spend another night at his cousin’s place near the mill, and then he’d be out of here. By tomorrow afternoon, he’d be home in Yellowstone. Maybe a miracle would happen so he could stay there and resurrect the Lamar pack.

Not fucking likely, but a guy could hope.

 

***

 

The next evening, buckets of rain slashed across the windshield of Roark’s moving truck. A rainstorm from the upper plains was no small matter. Water already filled the ditches and pooled across the road as he drove from Cody to the land outside Yellowstone National Park’s east end.

Three families waited there for him to pack up their lives and transport them to Hellhole, South Dakota. At this rate, he’d never make it.

“Crap!” he shouted as the vehicle hydroplaned and his right wheels veered into the ditch.

The truck groaned, leaning at a crazy angle. Luckily, it was empty instead of packed full of stuff. Getting a tow truck, if he could even find one, would have to wait until morning.

He flipped off the engine, tilted his head back, and exhaled. Why had he volunteered for this shit? Let the Tao pack hire professional movers if they were feeling so damn generous.

Maybe the rain was a sign, telling the Lamar Canyon pack to stay put. Or get out. Regardless, he was tired from the long drive and hungry as hell. Should he shift and hunt up some dinner, or do it the human way? The flat land shimmered through the rain-soaked windows, telling him he was deep in cattle country. Better play human to avoid having his hide shot.

A light winked in the distance. Without an umbrella or raincoat, he’d get completely drenched walking there. Should he skip dinner and try to sleep here instead? The moving blankets in back would make up for his thin clothes. He flipped on his cell phone. No signal. Since he needed a landline phone to call a tow truck, anyway, he might as well get the hike over with.

Before he opened the door, he stared at the blackness outside as rain pounded on the truck’s metal roof. Jared had died on a rainy night like this.

“What happened to you, man?” Even though he’d asked the question a million times in the past three years, he’d never gotten an answer. Maybe Lara was right. He had to let it go…eventually, but not while it still burned inside his heart.

He flung open the metal door into the rain’s cold jaws.

To reach the ranch house, he had to hop over a fence—carefully because the damn thing was electric. Rain penetrated his clothes and what felt like his flesh and bones. The temperature was one breath away from ice. He shivered so violently, he could barely move. If he didn’t shift soon, he might slip into hypothermia.

As he drew closer to the house, he noticed it had two stories. The hulking black shape of a barn, along with some sheds and more fencing, stood in the distance. Even though he couldn’t see any cows, he smelled them. He was on a ranch, all right. A faded wooden sign reading Yellow Barrel Ranch confirmed it.

A feeling of dread, which had nothing to do with the weather, washed over him. It was so bad he almost turned around and walked back to the disabled truck.

Relax, dude
. As long as he didn’t shift, he should be safe. Hopefully, he’d receive some hospitality.

A
click
of metal pulled his gaze to an upstairs window, in a hurry. A gun—pointed at him! What the fuck? Fear ripped through him, almost hard enough to make him piss his pants. He wriggled his human fingers, willing his body not to shift.

“You’ve got five seconds to get off this property.”

The voice was so husky he couldn’t tell if it belonged to a woman or teenage male. The dim light in the room behind the person revealed a slender arm and long, honey-colored hair. A woman, then. A really bitchy one.

Where was the man of the house? Or ranch hands, for that matter? If the woman ran the entire outfit herself, he didn’t blame her for having a gun. She probably knew how to use it, too.

Keeping his eyes on the rifle, he slowly raised his hands. Shivers from the cold rain racked his body. Let her think it was fear.

“I need help,” he called out to her. “My truck got stuck on the road.”

The lone outdoor light glinted off the long barrel of the rifle.

“You’ve got three seconds left before I blow your ass apart.”

 

 

Carrie shivered from the cold air seeping through her bedroom window as she pulled the gun inside. To the relief of her hammering heart, the man walked away. Or stumbled, she should say.

He looked pretty damn magnificent, too. Broad shoulders, rain-slick black hair pulled into a ponytail, and a square-jawed, tan face. He must be part Native American. No, she hadn’t noticed much.

He didn’t act armed or aggressive. He’d shivered enough to go into hypothermia if he stayed out too long in this weather. Her heart accelerated. What if he died out there? The heavy rain reminded her too much of the awful night three years ago.

After throwing one of her daddy’s thick shirts over her flannel nightgown, she raced downstairs, flipped the multiple locks on the front door then flung it open. She hung onto the rifle, though, just in case.

“You, there,” she shouted into the rain. “Come on in.”

He stopped and turned as if sniffing the air, reminding her of a wary animal. A wolf? She shivered. No, not one of those terrifying beasts. He was merely a man.

He crossed the yard, climbed the rain-slick porch steps, and faced her at the doorway. He was even bigger and more handsome than she’d first thought. What if he planned to rape or kill her? Could she shoot him?

“You look cold,” she told him. “Are you hungry?”

“Hell, yeah.” His strong voice sliced like a whip through the quiet in her kitchen.

“Then come in before I change my mind.”

He eyed the rifle. “Lose the gun first.”

For a few moments, they stared at each other as if willing the other to back down. A primal instinct she couldn’t explain told her he was safe. So, she leaned the rifle against the wall and stepped aside.

Water dripped from his ponytail and his jean jacket, pooling on the wood floor. His big shoulders quaked as he continued to shiver. She fought the urge to rest her hands there to still them.

“I-I’ll get you a towel.” Dang it. Her voice was hoarser than a frog’s.

He also needed a change of dry clothes, but damn if she’d let someone else wear her late father’s things. She fetched two large towels from the linen closet and held them out to him.

“One to dry off with, and one to, er, wear. I can throw your clothes in the dryer.”

Instead of taking the towels, he shucked off his jean jacket and let it drop to the floor. Next, he worked on the buttons of his flannel shirt. The sight of firm, dusky pectorals sent a strange rush of heat through her.

Good Lord. Did the man plan to strip naked right in front of her? She didn’t even know his name. His body looked whip-hard and strong. If he were a bull, he’d earn top dollar at the cattle auction. The heat hovering inside her arrowed to her abdomen, making her cotton panties damp and hot.

She averted her gaze. “Kindly change in the bathroom. It’s down the hall there.”

When he snatched the towels from her, she gasped.

Amusement glittered in his black eyes. “Kind of jumpy, aren’t you?”

Unease flickered down her spine as he strutted down the hall. The man’s cocky presence filled her home and took over as if he owned it. Exactly why she didn’t allow many men near the ranch. Why had she invited this one inside?

Because he was a gorgeous hunk? She’d successfully kept her distance from too many handsome ranchers and cowboys to weaken now for no reason. She couldn’t explain her unusual attraction.

And he looked familiar, as if he could be related to…. The face she’d seen in a flash of lightning would forever be engraved on her mind and soul. No, she refused to remember that night. But what if he’d arrived to investigate?

She flipped on the oven and hurried to the refrigerator, removing two fresh homegrown steaks. He seemed the type of man who enjoyed meat and lots of it. How would his hard mouth taste after chewing rare sirloin?

BOOK: Rebel's Claw
10.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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