Forrest, Dawn - Alphas' Prize [WeresRus] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (3 page)

“It shouldn’t be a problem for you as you’re so darn picky about men. I was beginning to doubt your heterosexuality. Haven’t you noticed that I’ve been clutching my bath towel tighter lately?” she joked.

“Oh that’s the pot calling the kettle black!”

Sadly true.

“I’m only kidding. Just keep an eye out, and I’ll call you when I can. If the coast is clear, I’ll be back in a month or so.”

Unfortunately it wouldn’t be to stay but to pack up her stuff.

“Joey, are you in serious trouble?”

“Not yet, I’m just making sure it stays that way and that you’re safe, too. Don’t tell anyone else that you expect me to come back. I’ll contact my boss.” Her cell phone rang. “That’s my cab, gotta go.”

She slapped her friend on the back and ran out of the apartment with her backpack bouncing on her shoulder. She jumped down the stairs, clearing each flight in a single leap. The cab was waiting outside on the street. The driver wrinkled his nose when she got in.

“Dog problem,” she muttered. “Denver International Airport, domestic terminal. I’m running late so please don’t spare the horses.”

She waved a fifty-dollar bill at him so he didn’t think she was a cheap student without a tip. It worked, and they made excellent time. The rest of the journey to Onancock was thankfully uneventful.

Chapter 2

Three weeks later

Kilchil Hunt decided to get something to eat and so pulled his chopper over at a small rest stop with a tired and weathered-looking diner. He took his helmet off and ran his long fingers through his rough, short, and spiky black hair. It was late afternoon, and although the frail warmth of the beautiful spring day still lingered, it would soon fade fast along with the daylight. He removed his sunglasses and squinted at the menu displayed on the door.

He was close now, and he knew that he needed to be fresh and energized when he finally caught up with the rogue he’d been hunting for over a week. As the Prime Alpha’s Chief Enforcer, he had to find and eliminate any dangerous werewolves who had no Pack and could cause problems for the rest of them. This particular fellow had been very troublesome indeed and had so far managed to avoid all other enforcers, which was why the task had now fallen to him. He was confident that he would catch him and rip his throat out if he had to.

The rogue, Daniel Watts, had killed at least three human males that Kil knew of. He had first brutally screwed, disemboweled, and then partially eaten each man while in beast form. It couldn’t be tolerated. It wasn’t just a sloppy disregard of protocol in those rare instances where, through an unfortunate series of events, an accident occasionally happened on a full moon. No, this was the kind of sadistic, intentional, careless violence that could soon lead to public revelation, and that simply wouldn’t do.

Kil walked into the diner and, as usual, all eyes briefly settled on him. As a six-foot-eight Native American, built like a linebacker, wearing black leathers and a jagged, livid scar across his cheek, he was used to the less-than-furtive attention. Of course, no one ever met his eyes or looked too closely for too long, no one ever did except Will Hawke, Prime Alpha of all the North American Packs.

As usual, he sat with his back to the wall, facing the door, and gave his order to a jittery young waitress. Most human women and unmated Were females were part scared and part attracted by him. The mated Were females who got to know him better, or rather, got to know
about
him from their mates, were usually terrified. He ate a very rare, almost-mooing steak and downed a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. He paid with a nice tip, took a quick piss in the restroom, and headed outside. He stood by his customized chopper and inhaled deeply through his nose. Daniel’s scent was very faint but detectable in the cross breeze, and it looked as though he was headed in the direction of Onancock.

* * * *

They had both finished work for the day and sat on the swinging seat on the little back porch, enjoying a Coke, each other’s company, and the early evening sunset. Katherine was happy with the final chapter of her next book that she had just completed. She knew that she was always more productive when she was feeling settled and could get into an uninterrupted routine. Nothing killed her muse faster than distractions, and she’d had a lot of those lately.

Jo was also looking pleased with herself. She had edited a good portion of a new manuscript that her boss had recently e-mailed. She had tried to tender her resignation, but her boss had suggested that she could continue to work from home for the publishing house, on a freelance basis. It was a great solution because it meant that she wasn’t tied to a particular location and could continue to work.

Life was good, almost normal, and Onancock was perfect for them. The townsfolk were familiar enough with visitors to be pleasant but had enough social reticence to not invade their privacy. They accepted the story that the women were sisters and fiction writers conducting research. Werewolves age much slower than normal humans. The process almost came to a halt once sexual maturity was reached. Katherine didn’t look much older than Jo.

In three days’ time there would be a full moon, and they planned to change and run in a forest to the south. If Jo’s friend, Lynne, still hadn’t seen anything suspicious, she would go back to Denver a week later. It would be to box up a few things, take stuff to store at the apartment, and ensure the place was stocked up with everything that a safe house needed. Lynne could stay for as long as she wanted, but they couldn’t risk renting it out to anyone else.

Katherine was steering the conversation around to the possibility of contacting a Pack when Jo went stiff and sniffed the air. Her daughter had an amazingly keen sense of smell, even for a werewolf. Now that Katherine was alerted, she took a deep sniff and detected the scent of not one but two male werewolves on the breeze. Dread slivered down her spine. One was Tex, but the other she didn’t recognize. Their scents were from the same direction, but Tex was closer—too close. Her flimsy bit of peace and happiness tore like sun-aged cloth caught high in the branches of a tree.

Damn and double damn.
She was upset because it meant that they would have to haul ass yet again. Thankfully she had a small motorboat ready, stocked and docked at the jetty at end of the garden. Connor had given her the first lesson in being prepared, and her experiences over the past twenty-four years had reinforced the necessity of always having an escape route planned and primed. She’d learnt to sail, fly, and handle a motorbike or car very well. The only thing she couldn’t do was ride, because horses didn’t take to her, which was hardly surprising.

Although they had a car, she knew that they now stood a good chance of being caught on the road. The land between the Chesapeake Bay and the Atlantic Ocean was not very wide. For this reason the escape route she had planned was via Onancock Creek and across the Bay to Reedsville, where they could hire, buy, or, if necessary, steal a car or plane. The small private airport near Reedsville was one reason she’d chosen this route. Options, it always paid to have options. It would take a pursuer much longer to drive south to the nearest bridge across the water and should give them a better chance of escape.

She saw the look of disappointment and despondency on Jo’s face, and not for the first time felt a twinge of uncertainty that she was doing the right thing. It was much harder to hide the scent of two fertile females than one. In three days Jo would undergo her second change, but already they’d been found.

Jo stashed their laptops in the boat while Katherine quickly checked the rented house for anything that might reveal their identity and then sprayed it with the foul dog and cat deterrent. It wouldn’t work if the males were in close proximity, but it might weaken their scent enough to prevent being located in the first place. They didn’t spray themselves because it would adversely affect their ability to detect other scents.

Their misery at having to leave did not slow their pace as they walked quickly down the garden path to where the boat was moored. She had long since stopped giving her temporary homes a backward glance as she left in a hurry. Being constantly on the run wasn’t the life she had ever wanted for either of them, and she knew that they needed to sit down and discuss their future. They needed to make some major life-altering decisions and make them soon.

* * * *

Kil rode for thirty minutes and was nearing the outskirts of the picturesque fishing town when another tantalizing scent began to filter from his nostrils into his brain. It insisted that he pay attention, hell it had him wanting to sit up and beg. He stopped his chopper in confusion. In all his 193 years, he had never smelt anything remotely similar. It was delicious, and judging by the sudden swelling in his leather pants, his body instinctively knew that it was unmated female werewolf. His mind caught up quickly. He could barely believe it. It was twenty-odd years ago that the last unmated female werewolf had disappeared and was generally presumed captured and held somewhere. What if the rumors were true? What if Katherine Akara was right here in America? He sniffed again and nearly overbalanced on his chopper. If he wasn’t mistaken, there were two distinct fragrances, meaning two females. Such a thing was unheard of. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Daniel was here, too.

He called Will Hawke, using the priority number. Hawke answered immediately.

“Did you finish the rogue?” Will calmly inquired.

“Not yet, but I’m close. There’s something else you should know.” He explained everything to Will and waited for his orders.

“Deal with the rogue first. Find out all that he can tell you then execute him. I will send Greg Winters out to Onancock to help you find the females.”

Kil wondered if Will didn’t trust him with the women.

As if he read his thoughts, Will said, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but the scent is said to be very…appealing. Greg is mated and won’t be affected, and the women will not be so afraid. Let’s face it, coddling and tenderness aren’t your strong points, my friend.”

Point taken. His Prime had an uncanny ability to read situations and people. Will was right as always, although “appealing” was a gross understatement for the fragrance that teased his nostrils and stroked his libido. He grunted his assent.

“Greg’s in New York at the moment on Pack business and can meet you in a couple of hours at the most. He’ll call you when he arrives in Onancock. Meanwhile, get the rogue.”

* * * *

Daniel Watts almost howled in anger and frustration because he’d lost the bitch
again
. At least, incredibly, he’d discovered the existence of another female. He’d followed their scents down to the end of the garden and the small deck at the water’s edge. He must have missed them by minutes, and with his acute hearing he could make out the fading sound of a boat engine heading out toward the main bay. Their scent trail began to fade fast, but there were no boats around for pursuit. It was a moot point because he wasn’t a water lover and didn’t know how to sail. He decided to see what he could discover inside the house.

Daniel stalked into the quaint beach-style home and almost gagged at the smell. She’d used the foul, pungent stuff before to cover her scent, and that was how he’d found this particular house so easily. He’d simply followed the strong chemical stench when her apparently attractive aroma disappeared. What other males found alluring, he found uninteresting. Being gay had its advantages. He dug his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and called his Alpha and Dom. Khan was already on his way to Onancock and would not be happy to hear that Katherine had given Daniel the slip yet again.

“Khan here. Speak.”

Daniel felt a thrill shudder through him when he heard the other werewolf’s deep, harsh, commanding tone.

“She was here, in Onancock, but I think she escaped by boat. It’s hard to scent because there’s a light wind in the opposite direction.” He paused as he heard angry cursing in Hindi from the phone. “There’s good news,” he interrupted. “She’s not the only one. There’s another unmated female werewolf with her.” He heard a sharp intake of breath and knew that the information had greatly pleased his Alpha.

Daniel had met Ashok Khan five months ago when he was backpacking in India. The big, aggressive and—the rumors were true—sadistic Prime Alpha had seemed keen to talk to him, a young American werewolf. Khan was, of course, especially interested in the rumors that the female, Katherine Akara, was in Daniel’s country.

 
It was clear that Khan wanted offspring, and because he hadn’t yet found his mate he wanted Katherine. He had repeatedly requested that Will Hawke, the Prime Alpha of the North American Packs, give him permission to hunt for her. Hawke always refused. Of course he hadn’t told Hawke what he’d told Daniel. Khan believed he’d won the right to claim Katherine after killing McDonald and nearly annihilating the Scots Pack. No, he kept that quiet, not wanting to risk the wrath of living relatives or exile from the Were Council.

Daniel knew that Khan had struck a deal with him because he was a Packless homosexual rogue and as such was unconcerned with Pack protocol and had no interest in the female for himself. Khan would give him what he needed if he found Katherine. What Daniel needed, with his sadomasochistic tendencies, was human men to fuck and feast upon, and a big, nasty Alpha’s cock up his ass. Khan provided the first and obliged him with the latter. Just as Daniel liked to roughly use human men, he craved Khan’s domination. Khan seemed to take great pleasure in fucking him raw, whipping him, and forcing him to suck and gag on his huge cock. Afterwards he was never tender, just dismissed him with a look of disdain.