Wild Instinct (20 page)

Daire bet he’d smirked just that way as he’d tried to force Kelon’s mate, and likely when he’d thought he’d driven Lisa’s car over the cliff. He bet the man smirked like that a lot in this small corner of his human world. The balls clacked together. Daire caught the ball before it dropped into the pocket. He gave it a little toss, drawing the men’s gazes up. “That’s fine. I’ll take payment in blood.”

It took a second for the threat to register. When it did, the four men straightened and hefted their cues. The wolf blended to the back. No loyalty there.

Buddy, his friends at his back, exuded confidence. “You’ve got balls, stranger. I’ll give you that.”

Daire tossed the ball again, aware of how he looked to the humans with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, emphasizing the harsh planes of his features and the scars that gouged through them. Big, dark and threatening, his wolf tweaking their instinct for self-preservation with a subconscious urge to flee. It would take very little effort for him to send the mental nudge he was supposed to, but Lisa’s, Robin’s, and lastly Teri’s faces flashed into his mind. Women of Haven. Women for whom justice had been delayed. Women whose honor had been held hostage to politics.

Daire didn’t want to influence Buddy. He wanted him bleeding and pleading the way Robin had been. The way Teri had been. He wanted him helpless and begging for mercy. And then Daire wanted to deny it.

Teri’s image flashed in his mind. The scars on her body speaking of the horror she’d endured at the hands of wolves. Rage welled. He should have been allowed to know her then. Should have been there when the rogues had come calling. Power rippled around him. He felt the start that signaled the other wolf’s recognition of retribution looming. Felt the instinctive flinch of fear, the urge to retreat. Too late.

Stay.
He sent the command deep into the wolf’s mind. The wolf froze.

The humans gathered closer to one another. So easy. It would be so easy to deliver justice. The darkness swept over him, flashes from the past peppering the thick blackness with the faces of those who’d come before. Faces of those he’d arrived too late to spare, but had avenged. His claws extended, biting into his palms in a familiar prelude. Oh, yes, he’d avenged. Time and time again. Until the scent of blood was indistinguishable from the scent of the night. Until the rage was like a living creature inside him, hungry for release.

Teri’s face flashed in his mind, as white as the shower wall behind it, her eyes huge in her face, cringing from his touch. Because she’d sensed his wolf, or because she’d sensed the centuries of rage that battled for dominance? The madness that threatened all ancients? The rage flared behind the wall of control, seeking a way out. A different energy flared out of nowhere. Softer, sweeter, but strong. Incredibly strong as it wrapped around the darkness and smothered it. Rage was replaced with hunger, equally primitive, equally uncontrollable. The sweet energy winked out on a blatant retreat, leaving no trail for him to follow. No imprint for him to recognize. But leaving him stable once again. What the hell?

“I believe you were saying something about a debt,” Buddy cut in, tapping his cue stick against his palm.

Debt? The second it took Daire to remember his purpose was even more disconcerting than that invasive energy. He might rage, but he never lost focus. The wolf slipped out the back door.
Shit.
He must have broken free of Daire’s control in that moment of distraction. Wyatt wasn’t going to be happy. Daire curled his lip at Buddy.

“It was a poor choice to come back here, Buddy.”

“I own this damn town.”

“Technically, your mommy does.”

“It’s still mine.”

“Consider it sold.”

“Because you and that damned cult you belong to say so?”

Cult? The word unexpectedly pinged off Daire’s sense of humor.

Buddy leaned forward, hands slapping down on the table. “Oh, yes, I know who sent you, and you can tell that arrogant bastard you work for that no fucking Satan worshipper is going to buy me out like he has everyone else. I can’t be bought.”

Imagining Wyatt’s amusement at being told he headed a cult, Daire smiled as he pointed out, “But you can be killed.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He looked to his companions. “You heard him, boys.” The boys nodded. “You touch me, asshole, and the law will be on your ass so fast it will make your head spin.”

Daire let a trickle of his power ease over the group. The men shifted positions. This time his smile was genuine. “One way or another, you
will
leave.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Daire folded his arms across his chest. “Because you touched the women of Haven, and they sent me to settle the account.”

Four

“A cult? They think we’re a cult?”

Daire shrugged at Wyatt’s outrage. “Beats the truth.”

“Yeah, I suppose it does.” Wyatt shook his head. “They really think we’re a cult?”

Daire shrugged. “I didn’t dissuade them. Figured it was better than the alternative.”

“Yeah, the truth would blow their little minds. Does this mean our mission was accomplished?”

“Partly.”

“What does ‘partly’ mean?”

“ ‘Partly’ means I delivered enough bruises to make ’em think twice about staying.”

“You were supposed to influence them.”

Daire shrugged again, remembering the terror on Buddy’s and his friends’ faces when he flashed the nightmare in their mind.

“I kept my word.”

“So they’re leaving?”

“There’ll be some bluster. You’ll have to negotiate.”

“By that you mean pay through the nose?”

“Yeah. A guy like Buddy is not going to just walk away. He’ll need some sort of win for his ego so he feels he’s walking away victorious.”

“Did you promise him a number?”

“Our negotiations didn’t get to that level.”

“Should I expect him at any time?”

“I imagine he’ll wait till his bruises heal.”

“That gives us what? Two weeks?”

“Roughly.”

“So why do I hear a ‘but’ in there?”

Daire leaned back in the chair. It was a comfortable chair, in a comfortable office, in what might be a comfortable pack. If it were allowed to survive. “We’ve got another problem.”

“Just what I need, more problems.” Wyatt sighed. “Give it to me.”

“There was a wolf with Buddy and his friends.”

“What pack?”

Daire shrugged. “I couldn’t tell.”

“You didn’t question him?”

“I didn’t get a chance. I was a bit distracted.”

Wyatt grunted. “On his worst day, an ancient can handle a Beta.”

“You would think.”

“But you couldn’t.”

With a growl, Daire vowed, “It won’t happen again.”

“I don’t imagine it will. But now we’ve had a wolf infiltrating our pack and no one knew about it. That worries me.”

“Me, too.”

“I think it’s safe to say he was here to cause trouble or to spy.”

Daire nodded. “That, too.”

Wyatt swore. “I was hoping negotiations would settle this.”

“The Carmichaels won’t settle. In their eyes they’ll only tolerate an allegiance with a strong pack. Your pack runs with human blood. To any wolf, any human is inherently weak.”

“Yeah. I know.”

Daire thought of Teri, of all she’d endured, the memories that had come from her to him. A lifetime of rejection, loss, and always she’d bounced back. Stronger than any wolf could. He wouldn’t call her weak. Unbidden came the memory of that energy that had wrapped around his rage. Had it been her? Could a bond work that way? He thought of Megan and her powers, Garrett with his. Human/werewolf mixes were revealing surprising abilities. Ones usually reserved for the occasional ancient.

“They’ll want Megan.”

Wyatt’s expression hardened. “They’ll never get her.”

“If the spy learned of her existence, got a whiff of her power—they won’t stop.”

“There aren’t many wolves that believe in the old legend.”

It was a false hope. The legend Wyatt referred to promised of the coming of a child who would start a new order. The legend guaranteed the pack that held the child would hold sovereign over all other packs.

“The Carmichaels are traditionalists. They’ll hold the legend as truth. Half will want to kill her. The other to use her.”

Wyatt spun his office chair around and dropped into it. Stee pling his fingers, he looked out the window. “The wolf you saw, was he a Protector?”

Daire shook his head. “No, not an Alpha.”

“So there’s a chance he doesn’t know?”

“Not one we can bank on.”

Donovan stepped into the room. “You’re going to need to alert Garrett.”

“Shit.” Wyatt ran his hand through his hair. “I promised both him and Sarah Anne she’d be safe here.”

Donovan shrugged. “She’ll be as safe here as she is anywhere.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying there had to be a reason the rogues killed Sarah Anne’s husband, chased her so hard. I’m guessing they already know about Megan. I’m guessing they made the link between her and the legend. As much as the rogues would like everyone to believe they’re packless, they do have each other.”

“Something no one considered when they tossed out the mixed-bloods,” Wyatt added dryly.

Daire nodded. In the past the lost had disappeared into the human world where their werewolf attributes had given them an edge, but in the last century there’d been a shift. The lost still banded together, but their targets were becoming pack.

Donovan took a couple steps toward Daire. “Speaking of tossing out. On behalf of my mate, I thank you, Daire.”

“Don’t be thanking him,” Wyatt snapped. “He went against my direct orders.”

Donovan cocked a brow at Wyatt. “To avenge my mate. And I find it hard to believe that he disobeyed your direct orders. Ancient or not, he’s a Protector.”

“Who hasn’t sworn allegiance to this pack.”

“As far as I’m concerned he’s displayed it; the words aren’t necessary.”

Wyatt’s jaw set. “The words are always necessary.”

There was more Carmichael in Wyatt than Daire had imagined. “I didn’t break my vow. I promised you I’d influence them and I would not draw attention.”

“A bar fight in the middle of town doesn’t draw attention?”

“A bar fight in the pool hall is normal for a Saturday night. And it’s not as if Buddy hasn’t lost a fight before.”

“True.”

Daire could sense the anger and frustration emanating from Wyatt. He was trying to do the impossible. He wanted a bloodless coup. Slide the Haven pack into what had once been a lumber town using the economy as a cloak. But Buddy’s family had a vested interest in this town.

Too much was at stake. His own frustration surged. He could just kill the remaining residents, drive them out the old-fashioned way through fear and violence.

The immediate
no
that whipped through him surprised him. He needed this pack for Teri, for the union. He dug his claws into his palm. For his sanity. None of which he let show. An unstable ancient was nothing anybody wanted around.

“I need to go check on Teri if you’re done.”

“You’re sure there’s no indication what pack this wolf is from?”

“The one Daire lost?” Donovan asked, an edge to his voice.

Wyatt waved him quiet. “Let’s not start warring with each other.”

Daire bit back a retort and stood. “No, but it shouldn’t be hard to find him. I’ll get on it as soon as I check on Teri.”

This time Donovan shook his head no. “Kelon and I will handle it.”

Daire didn’t ask how they’d know which one it was. It really didn’t matter; this was Haven territory. Any wolf not Haven would be up to no good. Any wolf not Haven would need to be dealt with.

It went against his grain to delegate but on the edge of his consciousness he could feel Teri’s distress rising. He’d been too long apart from her. He frowned. She shouldn’t be needing him yet. Was her condition worsening? Was she relapsing?

He nodded. The “Thank you” came hard. He left the room, not realizing until he was on the porch that Donovan had had his hand out when he thanked him in the human way, offering him the handshake that forged bonds. He shook his head and stepped down into the yard, unsure how he felt about the offer, unsure how he felt about missing it.

TERI stood by the window, holding herself upright through sheer force of will. Her body ached with weariness, but at the same time, she was consumed with a restless, negative energy.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. She pulled the curtains back. She could see a man stride out from under the porch roof and into the yard. Daire. A shiver went down her spine. The curtain crumpled in her grasp. He turned and looked up. She hated that ponytail. Even from here she could see the scars on his face. She brought her hands to her neck. The roughness of her own scars abraded her fingertips.