fate of the alpha - episode 2 (2 page)

Ainsley braced herself.

CHAPTER 2

G
race’s heart beat frantically in her chest as she felt herself being lifted like a rag doll and carried away under a mysterious cloak.

“Hush,” the assailant whispered and she felt her insides melt.

Julian.

The hand that was clamped over her mouth loosened slightly.

“Put me down,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

Abuelo’s voice spoke in Grace’s head, coaching her through an escape.
Head butt him, knee to the groin, and he’ll drop you!

But her body was also speaking to her.
Wrap your legs around him, press yourself against his chest, smell his hair!

Before she could make up her own mind, he had placed her gently on the ground. The darkness around them parted slightly and Grace could see they were back in Triangle Park.

“We don’t have much time, and we’ve got to get to Ainsley before it’s too late,” Julian whispered.

“Walk and talk,” Grace replied.

“Indeed.”

He put his arm around her, keeping them shrouded in the magical darkness which had hidden them from the two passing men. Now that she had calmed down, Grace could just make out the street and the shapes of the houses in front of them through the shadowy shroud.

Julian’s warmth reassured her. Grace fought to stay focused on the task at hand.

‘That was Garrett Sanderson, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes, he’s looking for a key. And he thinks Ainsley has it.”

“Does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Julian said. “Which could be very bad for her.”

“Who was the other guy?” Grace asked.

“You’re the sheriff. You tell me.”

“His voice was familiar.” Grace strained to match a face to the voice, but came up short. “I just can’t place it.”

Without speaking, they quickened their pace.

They had barely cleared the park when a ripple of magical dread lifted the hair on Grace’s arms.

Ainsley.

She broke into a run and Julian followed suit, dropping the magical cloak of darkness. The time for secrecy had passed. They swung left onto Princeton and tore down the last half of a block to Ainsley’s house.

Julian was in shape, but Grace was fast, and her friend was in danger. By the time Ainsley’s house came into view, she had pulled ahead of him by about half a block.

The wet leaves made the sandstone sidewalks slippery and she nearly wiped out as she rounded the corner onto Ainsley’s front walk.

She froze in place for a second, taking in the scene as Julian closed the distance.

Her best friend was on her knees on her own front porch. Charley Coslaw, a man Ainsley and Grace had known since childhood, stood over her, a roiling red ball of energy in his hand, ready to be hurled.

On the other side of the porch, Garrett was slashing at a wounded brown wolf with such gusto it jangled the wind chimes.

Her police instincts took over.

“Hold up!” she shouted with confidence, pulling her taser out of its holster. “Everybody cool off.”

All eyes moved to her.

“You don’t want to do this, Charley,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to have to do this, Charley! Man
up
!” Garrett hissed. “Take her out and deal with the consequences. More important things are at stake here.”

Charley wavered.

While Charley thought and Garrett cursed at him, and the music blasted out of the car, Grace edged closer to her friend.

“I’m gonna give you a boost, be ready,” she breathed to Ainsley so quietly that no one without a wolf’s ears could hear it.

Then she reached out and Ainsley reached back.

The second their fingertips touched, the ball in Charley’s hand began to turn blue again.

Ainsley’s eyes rolled back in her head and Grace felt a surge like no magic she’d ever experienced before.

The blue ball in Charley’s hand expanded explosively, enveloping his whole body. He moaned in agony from inside the energy field.

With her other hand, Grace managed to deploy her taser at Garrett. The angle was off, and she was firing left-handed, but her aim was true.

He slumped. But instead of jerking outward in reaction to the electrical charge, he seemed to fold in on himself, disappearing in a cloud of birds that turned the porch black with their beating wings.

Instinctively, Grace dropped to protect Ainsley. When the sound of the birds was gone, she stood quickly.

Garrett was gone and Charley was gone as well.

“Neat trick,” Ainsley said in a light voice that reassured Grace her friend was unharmed. “Can you teach me to do that?”

“Why didn’t you catch him? I thought wolves had a strong small prey drive!” Grace joked.

“I’m no bird dog!” Ainsley pretended to be insulted. Then her face grew serious. “How did you get here so fast?”

“Hold that thought.” Julian’s voice cut through the cool air. “This boy may be dying.”

Grace turned to the brown wolf. But it was gone. In its place, a muscular young man, with a tattoos circling each bicep, lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood.

CHAPTER 3

E
rik decided his Ford F-150 might be the future of tough, but it had a lot of room for improvement in the comfort department. He struggled to lie back without putting his work boots up on the creamy leather interior. At least the dual moonroof gave him an oddly peaceful view of the night sky.

When he bought this truck, he’d paid for that upgrade with exactly that in mind, and his investment had been returned with interest. He remembered one full moon in particular when Cressida had been on his lap, riding him raw while he licked the moonlight off her breasts. God, he’d like to replay that night with Ainsley.

Oh, Ainsley.

Erik gazed at the moon and begged it to enslave him again.

Instead, it stared back at him coldly, looking like nothing more than a flashlight beam or a circle of paper.

The feeling of staring at the nearly full moon without consequences was terrifying. But it was also oddly liberating.

Erik planned to sleep in the truck for a few nights to avoid the questions that were sure to come if he arrived in town during the full moon and didn’t shift. Although the solitude had been forced on him when Ophelia Winter had come from the Federation and sent him to assist the Copper Creek pack, he found himself surprisingly grateful for the chance to get used to his new powers by himself.

Powers.

It was strange to think of it that way, but it was true. Erik Jensen now had the power to not turn into a wolf. The power not to lose himself to wild fits of passion every month. He had the power to not know when someone was lying to spare his feelings. And the power not to smell bad smells unless they were up close and recent.

He slid around on the seat in search of a more comfortable position, to no avail. He made the decision to move to the back, where he would have room to stretch out.

Erik hopped out of the cab, locked the door, and swung himself up into the bed of the truck. He always kept a moving blanket back there, folded neatly in one of the metal drawers. In a few moments he lay on his back, staring up at the impossible number of stars sprayed across the black sky, and trying not to think about what Ainsley was doing, until he fell asleep.

CHAPTER 4

J 
ulian watched as Grace took up a position at the boy’s side, sliding to her knees with remarkable speed.

He admired the ease with which she checked his vitals, and her no-nonsense attitude about a little nudity and a lot of blood. Something akin to jealousy tickled the back of his mind as he watched Grace on her knees attending to the muscular young man. But he pushed that foolishness aside.

“He’s alive, but badly hurt,” she said.

“How can I help?” Julian asked.

Before she could answer, the sound of many running feet thundered on Princeton. Damned college soccer kids - did they really need to run at this hour?

Ainsley hopped to her feet with a smile. What a libido. He hoped her urges had something to do with her being a wolf and didn’t mean she wasn’t discerning. Must be hard for Erik.

“Shoot,” Grace said. Her eyes were darting from the sidewalk of Princeton up to the porch.

Julian surmised that she was rightly concerned about a bunch of college kids noticing the prone and bleeding man next to Ainsley’s front door.

“
Extingui”
he whispered to the porch light. It went out instantly, plunging them all into relative darkness.

“Ainsley!” one of the runners cried, in a familiar quavery voice. Carol Lotus, a professor from the college, rounded the hedge and bounded up the front walk. Julian was impressed that the old girl wasn’t even winded.

“Carol, it’s alright. The danger is gone,” Ainsley replied.

MacGregor followed right behind Carol.

“We’re fine, Mac,” Ainsley said. “Can you let the others know? We have a new pack member and he’s wounded so we’re gonna need some space.”

MacGregor nodded. He still looked troubled, as he should when his alpha was in danger.

As a matter of fact, Carol looked worried too, but in a different way. Julian watched as she darted a frantic glance at Grace.

Grace gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head and Carol seemed to slump a little with relief.

“Let’s get him inside,” Grace said in a firm voice.

Julian rushed to her side. Together with Ainsley, they lifted the young man. He didn’t even moan. Carol scurried to opened the front door.

“Go on with the others,” Grace said to Carol softly as she passed.

“Thank you,” Carol whispered.

The young man was bleeding profusely. Julian moved his lips silently in a lingering spell to staunch the worst of it, and to protect Ainsley’s Oriental rugs. They continued to the bathroom and laid him as gently as they could in the clawfoot tub.

For a moment they all just looked down at the battered body. In the stark light of the bathroom, his wounds looked more serious. Three deep slashes across his shoulders, chest and abdomen formed a crimson W shape that was streaming rivulets of blood despite Julian’s spell.

“He’s not responsive, and his wounds aren’t healing,” Grace said. “What’s going on?”

“Garrett’s sword was coated with silver,” Ainsley replied. Her voice was quiet but Julian could hear the feeling behind it. Her own injury with a silver bullet had happened only a month ago. She would bear the scars for the rest of her life.

“There must still be some silver in him,” Grace said.

“How do you get silver out of someone?” Julian asked.

“Can you do what you did to Erik?” Ainsley’s voice was hopeful.

“That was magic, not real silver,” Julian said. “And this silver has been pulverized and mixed into some kind of oil. It’s probably in his bloodstream already.”

“If it came from Garrett, it should have some residual magic,” Grace offered. “I touched that cane once.” Her involuntary shudder told Julian all he needed to know about the experience. “I wonder if there’s enough magic in that silver for me to draw it out...”

Grace’s features hardened. She had made a decision and meant to carry it out.

“Julian, get me something to put the silver in.”

He scurried down to the kitchen and grabbed a mug off the kitchen table. It was hard not to think about the last time Grace had used her magic to heal someone. And after she healed Erik...

Julian had replayed the mind-movie of her fierce little body going weak with need in his arms again and again. The look in her eyes burned him still.

He tried hard to focus on the task at hand, rather than wondering how she might feel after the operation. Even now, after what she had done with Ainsley to take Coslaw down...

When he returned to the bathroom no one even bothered to look up. Grace gazed down at the boy in the tub, her arms already making the stirring, gathering motions over him.

He could hear her breathing growing rough and feel the disturbance of her magical efforts billow against his skin. While Ainsley watched the boy in the bathtub, Julian couldn’t take his eyes off Grace.

Her pulse quickened as her arms spun and wove the air. He could see it throbbing in the tiny hollow at the base of her neck. Julian wanted nothing more than to nuzzle it, bury his nose in her clean, flowery scent.

Ainsley gasped and Julian looked down at the boy. His wounds were drawn upward, as if by a thousand invisible strings, then further, as though the whole bathroom were under water and those flaps of injured skin were floating.

Grace’s face was a study in determination. Sweat beaded on her beautiful smooth skin, and her ballerina arms pulled and strained at the magic.

Just when Julian began to fear that the task was impossible, Ainsley sucked in a breath and he saw what was happening.

A teeming army of silver dust motes was spilling out of the wounds and into the air just above the boy. Ainsley cringed from the shining mist.

Julian grabbed the mug, and held it out. The mist spilled merrily into the cup at complete odds with the gravity of the situation.

Suddenly, the skin across the boy’s abdomen began knitting back together as he watched. Julian knew that wolves had healing powers but had never seen such a serious injury heal before his eyes. It was so seamless it looked like an injury happening in reverse. No sooner had the first wound closed than the second closed and the third.

Julian looked down into the mug. The silver inside formed an inch deep layer of harmless looking powder, its magic was gone. He wondered what he ought to do with it. Could it possibly be flushed?

One moment the bathroom was silent as a church, the next an explosion of scrabbling and roaring exploded as the boy in the bathtub shifted into wolf form and desperately tried to get out of the tub. The slippery porcelain beneath his claws was probably all that saved them from a brutal attack.

Instinctively, Julian grabbed Grace’s hand to drag her from the room.