Wild Instinct (19 page)

He couldn’t. There was no way he could know what that tiny flutter of life meant to her.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“In order to save you, I had to lock my mind to yours. That takes an incredible bonding. I felt your daughter’s life force.”

She doubled over in pain from the blow. Unfair. Unfair that he could know it was a daughter, and he knew her daughter in a way that she couldn’t. He went with her, sheltering with his big body as if there was anything that could take away the pain of the wound he’d just ripped open.

Think. She had to think. “All you would have felt at the touch of her life force was the urge to kill her,” she rasped.

He snapped back mentally. Shock poured over her along with another emotion she didn’t want to define. She practically threw herself out of the tub. Water sloshed over the side, drenching the floor. She grabbed a towel off the rack and held it in front of her like a shield. He sat there in the tub, staring at her with nothing particular in his expression, yet she knew he hurt. She’d hurt him, and she hated him for letting her know that.

“I know how werewolves are. You’re a vicious, jealous, possessive lot. You never would’ve tolerated my daughter to live.” She turned on her heel and left the room, her motions a discordant jangle. She needed to lie down, to find the embrace of the darkness. It hurt too much to live.

IT hurt too much to live
.

That last, desperate thought that projected so much emotion struck Daire hard. There were times when the pain in his life, the loneliness, had made him wonder if moving on to the next world should be an option. But he hadn’t taken it, never really seriously considered it. His duty was not to himself. It was to his pack. But Teri didn’t have pack. Had never had pack, but her need to belong was as strong as any wolf’s need. And her baby, no matter how it came about, had been the one thing she’d always wanted. Had been a start on creating a family. He stood and undressed, leaving his clothes beside the tub. He eyed the neglected soup. He’d have to make her eat soon.

Stepping out, he grabbed a towel and roughly dried himself before following Teri into the bedroom. She was lying on her side in the bed, the covers pulled high. The only thing visible was the top of her head. He walked around to the other side of the bed and lifted the covers. She didn’t move as he slid beside her and spooned his much bigger body around hers. He settled his hand over hers as it pressed into her abdomen. He drew her back against him and rested his lips on the top of her head. She was wrong. He did understand.

Three

“TRYING out new cologne?” Wyatt asked, grimacing from where he sat behind his desk.

Daire didn’t blink as he crossed the office, the scent of lavender traveling with him. “Yes.”

Wyatt studied him for a second, his eyes narrowed, and then relaxed in that subtle way Daire was beginning to understand meant he’d seen what he wanted.

“Just a word of advice—it’s a little too feminine for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Daire sat in the big leather chair opposite. “You sent for me?”

Wyatt took the hint. “A problem has returned.”

“Oh?”

“I need it taken care of.”

“Why can’t Kelon or Donovan handle it?”

“I need it handled quietly.”

Daire sat a little straighter in his chair, his curiosity piqued. “I never knew either of them to lack discretion.”

“I’m afraid in this case, discretion will be beyond their ability.”

“What is it?”

“Buddy is back in town.”

“The human who hurt Robin and tried to kill Lisa?”

“One and the same.”

Daire smiled. At last, something he was good at. “I’ll be happy to deliver Haven’s justice.”

Wyatt sighed. “I don’t want him killed.”

Daire sat forward. “The law is clear.”

Death was the sentence for those that attacked a pack woman. Wyatt tossed his pen on the pile of papers on the big desk. “We can’t afford the attention. It’s bad enough the Carmichaels are grouping for war. If they attack, a pile of werewolf bodies is going to be hard enough to explain, but if the deaths spill over to humans . . .” He shrugged. “Hell, every branch of law enforcement in three states will be crawling all over here. If we want this pack to survive on the fringes of the human world, we need to blend.”

Shit.
“So what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to convince Buddy he needs to sell his holdings and leave.”

He could do that. “No problem.”

“I don’t like the look of that smile.”

“Just anticipating.”

Wyatt leaned forward and met his gaze squarely. “When I say ‘convince,’ I don’t mean through force.”

Daire stilled.

“I want you to
influence
him.”

“That is forbidden.” The penalty for any wolf using persuasion against anyone’s will was death by disembowelment, followed by beheading.

“I know what I’m asking.”

“It would be bad for everyone if it were found out. Influence does not last forever.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“It would be easier to kill him.”

“Yes, it would.” But Wyatt wasn’t going to allow it. “Do you need to think about it?” the Alpha asked.

No. He didn’t. His future was here. He couldn’t live with Teri in any other pack but Haven. Haven had to survive and here was where they’d made their stand. “Where is he?”

“At his old haunts.”

“The pool hall where Lisa taught him respect?”

There wasn’t a werewolf around who hadn’t heard the tale of how Donovan’s mate had avenged the injury done her sister. She’d stormed into the pool hall, picked up a cue, marched into a group of men and made her point. She was legend among the werewolves for the sheer novelty of a woman, human or werewolf, having such courage. It helped the legend that Donovan had been there that day and liked to tell the tale.

“Yes.”

He stood. “I’ll pay him a visit.”

Wyatt stood also. “The pack will be in your debt.”

Yes, they would. “I’m going to ask a favor in return.” “Anything.”

“That’s a sweeping promise to make an ancient.”

Wyatt smiled. “I’m feeling reckless.”

“If word gets out about what I’ve done, you buy me time.”

“For what?”

“To get to Teri and get her out. We’re bonded.”

Wyatt didn’t look shocked. “I expected as much.”

“You don’t seem surprised.”

“I saw the extent of her injuries. Nothing short of a life bond would be enough for you to keep her alive.”

“She wasn’t willing.” The penalty for that was death.

“Then I guess before she has to come before me and accept your bond, you’ll have to convince her.”

Daire noticed Wyatt didn’t give him a time frame in which the acceptance had to occur. It was strange having so much flexibility from an Alpha. Daire wasn’t even sure it was good, but he would take advantage of it.

“I’ll handle Buddy.”

“Then I’ll handle the rest.”

Wyatt had to know that Daire could just as easily influence him as he could Buddy, but he didn’t see any sign of worry. The Alpha trusted him. Damn.

“Thank you.”

Wyatt smiled and held out his hand. It was a distinctly human gesture. At Daire’s hesitation, Wyatt shrugged. “Heather says we need to incorporate some human traditions, one of them being accepting deals with a handshake.”

Daire held out his hand. “Why?”

“For one, she says it will help us blend within human society.”

“And two?”

Wyatt’s hand met his. “She says the tradition of acknowledging the sacrifices inherent in a deal with the respect of a handshake creates a bond.”

Daire let go of Wyatt’s hand, the impression of his energy solid. Clean. “She has strange ideas.”

Wyatt flexed his fingers. “But some of them are good.”

Daire closed his in a fist. “So it would seem.”

HE found Buddy in the local pool hall that served as a gathering area for the town. The door swept closed behind him, bathing him in a last breath of fresh air. There were no women in the hall. He could see why. In the thirty seconds he’d stood in the entryway, the scent of stale sweat, stale beer and stale cigarettes surrounded him in a gradual cloud. Under it all was the scent of testosterone. Men came here to play and to fight. He flexed his finger as his night vision flashed in and out with the rhythm of the neon signs in the window. He could accommodate the latter.

A few men looked up as he approached, their courage bolstered by the illusion that their numbers protected them from his wrath. He tried to imagine Donovan’s mate, Lisa, walking this same path. Human, unprotected, intent on revenge, her anger might have carried her into the room on a foolish wave of courage, but the men here wouldn’t have seen her as a threat. She’d just be an annoyance to some. A potential toy to others.

The bartender looked up as Daire reached the counter. He stopped rinsing a glass and set it in the sink. The scent of his nervousness reached Daire as the man reached under the bar. Catching his gaze, Daire shook his head. The man froze. Daire bared his teeth. The man brought his hands back up.

“Buddy?”

Indecision warred on the bartender’s face. Fear tainted his scent. Then with a jerk of his head he indicated the back of the hall where the pool tables could be seen.

With a nod, Daire acknowledged the bartender’s life-saving decision to give him the information he sought rather than pull a weapon. “Good choice.”

Daire continued on, sorting through what Wyatt had told him about Buddy and comparing that to the faces of the four men laughing over a joke as the fifth lined up his shot. Six foot, dark hair, blue eyes, with the build of a football player going to seed and, more likely than not, wearing a ball cap. Daire’s focus narrowed to the man in the green ball cap. He fit the description, and the way the others stood around him, close but slightly back, suggested deference. Daire’s lip curled. Humans’ concept of what constituted power was warped. Buddy’s money wouldn’t save them from Donovan’s or Kelon’s wrath. Neither Lisa nor Robin should have to suffer the shit-head’s presence in their town. Daire’s fingertips tingled as his claws prodded him to action. Buddy didn’t deserve the break Wyatt was willing to give him in the pursuit of peace. He deserved to have his guts ripped out for trying to force any woman, but a mate to a wolf? His lip curled back from his canines. There should be no mercy.

“Table’s full up, friend,” one of the bystanders said.

Daire let his snarl relax into a facsimile of a smile. “I wasn’t looking to play.”

The men straightened. From the strong scent of liquor seeping from their pores, they’d been drinking all day. With the economy of the area being so depressed, there was no work, and in the human or wolf world, indolence bred trouble. These four were trouble. The fifth . . . he stiffened inside. The fifth was more than trouble. The fifth was wolf. And he wasn’t Haven. There was no good reason for a nonpack to be in Haven territory. Even less of a good reason for the wolf to be hanging around with Bobby and his friends. He had to be a Carmichael spy. The wolf leaned on his pool cue the same as the humans, blending in except for his energy and scent. Daire met his gaze. The wolf couldn’t hold his for more than a second. Not an Alpha, then.

“Well, we’re not putting on a show,” another of the humans snapped, not looking up. From the way he was watching the game, Daire was willing to bet he was the biggest contributor to the pile of bills on the small round table behind them. Daire ignored him and focused on the wolf. “I was sent to collect on a debt.”

The flicker of the wolf’s brows indicated he understood the formal challenge of a Protector.

“Well, shit,” the one he suspected was Buddy said, as he leaned over the table and lined up the cue ball. “There’s no one in this town that’s got a penny.” He motioned with the tip of the cue. “Ten ball left pocket.”