Wolf Tales 11 (15 page)

Ric glanced at Millie and caught her confused stare.
What?

Just watch and follow.
Ric nudged her forward, into the moonlight. Millie glanced his way and he knew the moment she understood Matt’s intent as the five of them came together in this perfect setting, beneath a silver moon, flanked by tall pines and cedars, with the soundless night all around.

Once gathered, they raised their muzzles to the moonlit sky and howled. Wolves in the pens at the sanctuary added their howls to the chorus. Their many voices echoed against the hills, rebounding over and over again until the cacophony took on a pulse-pounding rhythm all its own.

Shivers raced along Ulrich’s spine as he watched his mate. Whatever Millie did, she did with her full heart and soul. Now her muzzle pointed skyward, her sharp canines glistened, and steam billowed out around her beautiful wolven face.

Love such as he’d never experienced swept through his veins, thrummed with the steady thunder of his heart. His Millie, his mate, the woman who knew him even better than he knew himself, and loved him still.

So serendipitous, the steps that had brought them together, yet he guessed it was more an act of fate ruled by the hand of the Goddess. To think Liana might have had a part in this. One of these days, he really needed to sit down with the ex-goddess and find out just what she knew.

Because of her, with Anton’s intercession, he’d had that final night with Camille, the night that had freed him to love again. It had freed him to find Millie and make her his own.

To help Millie fulfill her own destiny as Chanku, to find the children that had been taken from her, to find love with a man desperate for exactly what she had to offer.

Yes, she was here because of him, but she had been the one to save him. His mate, his closest friend, the one he would always love. What a tangled web their lives had become, all of them in some odd way connected. He never would have guessed, that afternoon when he’d stood in Golden Gate Park and watched his lovely niece Keisha at the dedication to the garden she’d designed, where that chance meeting would lead.

Now, he studied Millie as she, in turn, watched Matt, and Ulrich shared his mate’s pride that this young wolf was already showing the qualities of leadership none of them had suspected in him before.

Showing those qualities because Millie had helped him find the alpha character he’d been hiding all his life. The howls faded into the night and Ric opened his convoluted thoughts to Millie.
He’s going to be a fine leader some day, my love. Because of you. You are the one who helped him find himself.

Millie turned and studied Ric for a long moment. Only because you helped me find myself. If not for you, Ric, I have no idea where I would be tonight.

He wished wolves could laugh out loud. Certainly not sitting on your butt in the snow in ten-degree weather, howling at the moon.

You’re probably right.
He sensed the dry laughter behind her pithy reply.

Then Matt whirled about and nipped Deacon’s flank, spun once more, and took off in a whirl of flying snow and playful yips. Daci and Deacon tumbled after him, scrambling like pups in the fresh powder.

Ric and Millie followed, a bit more sedately, but Ric noticed how Millie watched Matt, how she studied Deacon,
and even followed Daci’s graceful moves along the moonlit trail with a new sense of interest.

His body tightened once again with a surge of arousal, and he wondered about stopping here and now, of taking her as a wolf beneath the shimmering moon, thrusting hard and fast into her always willing body. Sometimes it happened like this, where his need for Millie rushed through him like a damned tsunami at the most inappropriate times. Running with the pack, knowing they should be saving their building sexual need until later, meant he could think what he liked, as long as he didn’t act on it.

Not easy, with his blood running hot, his damned prick clamoring for a warm, wet home within his beautiful mate. But it wasn’t going to happen. Not now, when their energy was needed later, when lives might depend on their timing, their level of arousal, their ability to project the power generated by their Chanku passion so that Anton could have it all, could take every last bit and work it at the precise moment in time when he had need of it.

Ric had no idea what Anton planned, but the wizard had never once failed them, and damned if Ric was going to let his need to screw his mate interfere with tonight’s plans. He was an adult, for crying out loud! The elder in this group. The one who should be in control, not worried about losing it.

With that thought in mind, Ric followed Millie, watched Matt and Deacon and Daci, and let his desire build for each member of the pack. It was easier this way, to concentrate on all of them.

If he thought only of Millie, he’d lose it for sure.

The snow crunched beneath his big paws and steam billowed out about his muzzle. They ran with a purpose, now. Searching for game, for their meal for the night. Hunting always fueled their sexual desire—their need for blood seemed tightly connected to their need for release—but the
night was cold and so far there’d been nothing to catch their attention.

Not until Deacon suddenly paused, raised his nose in the air, and slipped off the trail through a thick tangle of brush.

How he managed to find a trail through such a maze of brambles and poison oak amazed Ric. As big and ungainly as Deacon was in his human form, he was amazingly graceful as a wolf on the hunt. Moving silent as a wraith, he pressed his belly to the snow and slowly worked through the edge of the bramble patch and up on top of a pile of large boulders.

The others followed, practicing the same stealth, circling to Deacon’s left and right as they closed in on an unsuspecting doe hiding in a thick patch of windblown willows near a frozen creek.

She was thin and crippled, her right rear leg twisted and unable to bear her weight. Deacon didn’t even hesitate. Lips curled in a silent snarl, he sailed off the slick boulder with a powerful leap and caught the back of the doe’s neck in his strong jaws.

She was dead before they hit the ground, her neck cleanly broken by Deacon’s lightning attack. He backed away, snarling, and turned on Matt, but Matt’s low growl had Deacon backing away from his own kill—backing away and waiting until Daci and Millie had approached the still warm body and settled in to feed.

Only then did Matt step aside and let Deacon at the fresh kill. He’d easily kept his own mate—the one who’d made the kill—under control until the females had begun to feed.

Ric stayed back and waited until Matt approached the deer. It wasn’t until all four wolves were busy feeding that he finally found a spot near the doe’s haunch and tore into the thick hide with razor-sharp teeth. The taste of warm
blood and hot meat filled his mouth and fired his feral nature, but it was pride in Matt that made his heart race.

Pride in the young man who showed more qualities of leadership each day, who had once been unable to meet Ric’s eyes without blushing and stammering and turning away in an overt display of submission.

Ric raised his head and caught Millie looking at him. Thick blood streaked her muzzle and chest and her eyes glittered with the thrill of the hunt. Caught up in the scent of the fresh kill, the hungry wolves beside her gorging on the meat, she was every bit the wild wolf, her feral nature captured by the purity of their bloodlust, her human side buried beneath the instinctive drive to gorge herself and feed while there was plenty to eat.

Then he saw it, a glimmer of her humanity as her long pink tongue came out and cleaned the blood from the stiff hairs around her muzzle. In that moment, Ric opened the link between them, opened to Millie’s soft mental voice.

I love you, she said. I love you more than life itself.

As I love you.
He took in the three younger wolves, still eating, but slower now as their bellies filled, and then returned to gaze once again at his mate.
But it’s a damned good life, don’t you think, Millie, m’love? Damned good.

Laughter filled his mind. Millie’s laughter, followed by her very soft, extremely seductive voice.
I agree. And I have a feeling tonight’s going to be even better.

Suddenly his head filled with images—Millie’s images, the fantasies she’d been having while they ran. Matt and Deacon dominating Ric, Daci between her legs in her wolven form, exploring Millie with sharp teeth and her long, mobile tongue. Then as a woman, with fingers and lips and no inhibitions.

Millie taking both Deacon and Matt, and Ric … dear Goddess, what she saw him doing with all of them and some very inventive use of soft rope and well-placed knots.

He swallowed, his appetite for the deer suddenly gone,
his desire now to get back to the cabin, to shower and see just how many of Millie’s ideas the five of them could accomplish before the deadline Anton had given them.

Millie stood up, shifted for merely a second to cleanse the blood from her fur, and quickly returned to her wolf form. Shifting so easily, so naturally, as if she’d been Chanku forever, a shapeshifter all of her life. The others did the same, and Ric almost sighed with the beauty of the shift, the instantaneous change from wolf to human and once again to wolf. Such a simple thing for each of them, now.

Life altering, to embrace that amazing destiny that could have so easily been denied each of them … but for a twist of fate, or a goddess’s intervention.

Then Daci flashed Millie a knowing grin that looked almost dangerous coming from the jaws of a wolf. Ric snapped out of his uncharacteristic contemplation. He’d been a wolf longer than any of them. Why, then, should he be worrying and wondering about the
what ifs
and
might have beens?

The thought was lost as they turned away from the half-eaten doe and headed back toward the main trail. Already Ric could hear the rustling in the brush as coyotes and other scavengers waited impatiently for the wolves to leave.

There’d been one death in the forest tonight. One old and injured doe that would not have survived the winter. Ric was glad Deacon’s sensitive nose had picked up her scent. They’d fed well and now others would eat, and the doe had died a clean and merciful death.

Life went on in the forest in the way it was meant to. Predators taking what they needed and nothing more, prey surviving only if they were fast enough or smart enough to avoid wolves or cougars or any other of the many large carnivores in these vast mountainous areas.

Unlike the situation in San Francisco. There, the predators seemed to have all the advantages. For now.

He sent a prayer to Eve, to the Goddess who watched over them, and hoped like hell she was keeping a close eye on Lisa and Tala. And then, almost as an afterthought, he suggested Eve stay close to Anton, just in case anything went wrong.

Do you think they ever intend to feed us? I’m starving!
Lisa shot a quick glance at Tala and then went back to staring at the crappy artwork on the wall in front of her. Her stomach growled.

Not if we don’t ask.
“Hey! Jerkface! You guys planning to let us starve? Pregnant ladies here … we’re eating for extras, remember?”

“Shut up, bitch. You’ll eat when the boss says you can eat.”

“Fuck you.”

Leave it to you, Mary Ellen. Lisa bit back a grin. Subtlety never was your strong suit, sister mine. We need to talk.

Tala didn’t answer for a long time. Lisa heard her sigh, then her soft reply. Mary Ellen died a long time ago, Lisa. Tala’s a survivor. She has to be. And I promise you, we will get out of this alive. There’s no acceptable alternative.

Lisa merely nodded. Tala was right. Mary Ellen had died one night, long ago in a dirty little New Mexico town, beaten half to death by her johns. Then she’d shifted and killed both men. When Tala rose like a phoenix from the ashes, she’d been a new woman—stronger, more self-assured. Capable of surviving anything. Lisa’d never been
that brave, no matter what people told her. Not like Mary Ellen … like Tala.

Even with her wrists restrained, Lisa still managed to squeeze her sister’s hands and hold on. Then she connected again with Tinker. She needed to hear his voice and let his warm words of love calm her racing heart.

Except, what he told her sent her heart rate into overdrive. They could safely shift? They’d always figured that was something they needed to give up after the fifth or sixth month, but according to Liana, and she should know, damn it, they could shift up until they went into labor.

Liana’d been a goddess for more years than any of them could count, so there was no reason to doubt her. According to Tinker she was surprised none of them realized their unborn babies would shift right along with their mothers.

They’d still be pregnant, still awkward and slower than usual, but it was an option.

The only downside, obviously, was that if they shifted, they’d better be prepared to kill everyone in the room. No way did they want these idiots knowing about Chanku shapeshifters.

She squeezed Tala’s hands again. Her sister had just gotten the same information from Mik and AJ. And the same warning. She turned and gazed at Lisa, and the half smile on Tala’s lips spoke volumes.

Obviously, Tala wouldn’t have any problem killing the bastards who held them. Not at all.

Not that they planned to. With any luck, Anton’s plan would get them out of here without resorting to shifting or killing. But it was certainly nice to know the option existed.

Lisa’s stomach growled again. This time she ignored it.

Beth hoped like hell she could carry this off, but even with both Mik and Logan stalking ahead on all fours and
Igmutaka walking beside her with all his royal attitude, her knees still shook like crazy. They’d arrived by limousine with a ton of luggage—very nice designer suitcases loaded with all kinds of clothing and blankets to give the bags weight. All their stuff was piled neatly on a cart pushed by a young man in uniform, who followed them at a safe distance as they walked across the huge marble and brass foyer.