Leader of the Pack

LEADER OF

THE PACK

Lynn Richards

Copyright February 2012

Patricia Mason

Wolf Publishing

This book is dedicated to my best friend.

There is no need to say her name aloud, she will always know.

To the start of something wonderful.

CHAPTER ONE

“
I do not believe in vampires.”

“
I do not believe in vampires.”

Emily repeated the mantra hoping to reassure herself as she stumbled through the thick underbrush of Boone County’s national forest. A hundred yards in the distance loomed her destination – a great hulking house eerily outlined by dawn’s first light. Stopping she listened for the sounds of the forest, unreasonably reassured by the chirp of the cricket and the croak of a frog in a far off pond. Surely the forest itself would be silent if something evil lurked in its midst?

She crept forward and questioned her sanity for the umpteenth time. What was she doing here for God’s sake? She was a deputy sheriff who handled domestic disturbances and Saturday night drunks at the local bar. She was not some Agent Scully wannabe chasing UFOs and other ‘unexplained’ mysteries.

Sure, she had a brown belt in karate and knew how to shoot a gun – pretty damn good if she did say so herself – but a fat lot of good that would do if she did encounter a vampire. Of course, she thought humorlessly, maybe the collection of silver crosses, wooden stakes, holy water and garlic cloves she’d stuffed in her pockets would save the day.

Just a few short days ago she would have scoffed if someone had asked if she believed in vampires or werewolves or any other mystical being. But thanks to her best friend Rachel she was fast becoming a believer. Hence, the garlic and holy water.

She’d gotten a weird vibe when Rachel hadn’t shown up for their monthly get together last Friday night. Emily had went by her apartment the next day thinking maybe the girl had gotten lucky since neither of their sex lives had been anything to write home about lately. They had made a vow several months ago that if they ever did hookup with Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome they would spread their legs and offer themselves up like a virgin sacrifice to a pagan god.

But there was no Rachel, just a messed up apartment. Her friend wasn’t Martha Stewart by any means. Emily knew the disarray was more than just bad housekeeping. She’d called for backup and waited for the sheriff to call in the state troopers. And waited and waited. Emily had been told nothing suspicious had happened. And as far as Rachel being missing, well, according to her bosses at the
Chronicle
, she was working on some really big story and would be back soon.

Of course, that didn’t wash with Emily. If Rachel had scooped a story, Emily would have been the first to know, not the last. Something was wrong. And when an email had arrived from Rachel with a video clip attached, that’s when Emily started to believe in things that go bump in the night.

Rachel had filmed herself outside an old abandoned house doing a damn good impression of the
Blair Witch Project
. She’d rambled on and on about six missing women and soul stealing, blood-sucking vampires. At first Emily had laughed, thinking Rachel was playing a bizarre practical joke. But then she’d heard the hysteria in her friend’s voice. And her desperate, unspoken plea for Emily to believe her.

According to the computer guru at the sheriff’s office, the email had been triggered to be sent if Rachel didn’t check her account within a certain period of time. Along with the video clip, she had sent the names of the women who she believed had been kidnapped and a list of men who she believed were vampires. What was a girl suppose to do when her best friend jumped over the cliff? Jump after her, of course.

So Emily had taken an unofficial leave of absence and went in search of her friend. She had been searching for over a week. She’d investigated each of the women and men on the list and nothing had triggered any red flags. She’d tracked down any property owned by the men and women and started a systematic search of each. She had eight more houses to go, not counting the one standing before her in the early morning light which may or may not have a vampire named Boris slumbering in its basement.

Emily winched as the large wooden door opened under the weight of her hand. The door barely hung on its hinges, but it made enough noise to wake the dead. Or the undead. A hysterical giggle rose in her throat but she firmly squelched it.

She moved further into the room and let her eyes adjust to the dim interior. If this was a vampire’s lair, he’d chosen an excellent place to hide. The two windows in the room were high on the wall, allowing only scant beams of the pale morning sun inside. She thought longingly of the pair of night vision goggles stored in the trunk of her patrol car. She squared her shoulders and stepped across the threshold only to stop suddenly when a flash of gold blinked in the darkness.

Please, merciful heavens, was that a pair of eyes? One hand automatically went to the butt of her gun, the other to the stake. She felt like an idiot, but the feel of the smooth wood beneath her fingers gave her a strange sense of security.

“
Is someone there?” she asked, proud that her voice sounded strong and authoritative. She didn’t identify herself as law enforcement. Because, really, was the big, bad vampire going to tremble in his handmade Italian loafers if she showed him her badge? For some reason she always pictured vampires dressed to the nines wrapped in old-world elegance.

When she heard the faint sound of something scampering away, she called herself all kinds of a fool. Again. It was just a rat, she thought, moving into the next room. Just a large, hairy, rat.

* * * * *

The breath slammed back into Jared’s lungs with the force of a sledge hammer. His body trembled and sweat beaded on his upper lip. He couldn’t control the flare of gold in his eyes or the rush of blood to his groin, turning his cock to a hard, steely ridge beneath the zipper of his jeans. Just one whiff of her feminine fragrance and he was lost. It invaded his every pore and made it difficult for him to control the wolf hungering to escape as it recognized the importance of this chance meeting. It was her. His mate.

Thanks to his superior night vision he could see her clearly, even in the gloom. He had never seen such beautiful blue eyes before, especially not on a human. He smiled, the flash of his white teeth shining in the darkness, thinking her eye color would make her more readily accepted by the pack. She had a light sprinkling of freckles on her pretty, upturned nose. Her long brown hair, pulled back in a thick jaunty ponytail, reminded him of a mink’s silky fur.

She stood about five-foot-five and her abundant curves were hard to hide even beneath her commando like black clothing. She was plump and full-figured. Her breasts and hips luscious and ripe. He felt a drop of pre-cum pump from the tip of his cock as he pictured himself stroking and tasting her from top to bottom. Oh yeah, her bottom. He’d grind himself inside her as she kneeled before him on her hands and knees, submitting to his beast.

He choked back the howl that rose in his throat. The beast inside wanted to take control.

Wanted to claim his mate.

As the lust filled fog surrounding his dick and brain cleared, he remembered why he was here and the implications of meeting his mate in this old abandoned house.

Shit.

He had finally found the other half of his soul and she’d just walked into a damn vampire’s lair.

This time he couldn’t suppress a growl. He turned swiftly on his heel and followed her through the door, intent on protecting what was his.

She stood before the basement door and he could feel the evil radiating through the solid oak. Nothing set a werewolf’s fur on edge faster than a threat to his mate. The claws on his hands threatened to break through.

“
I wouldn’t open that door if I were you.”

She whirled around, a wooden stake clutched in one hand and a metal gray semi-automatic in the other. One dark brow rose at the sight. Exactly who was this beautiful being?

“
Stay back,” she warned, only a slight quaver in her beautiful voice. A voice that could make him forget all reason, and one he wanted to hear begging for release as he pounded inside her.

A feral grin curved Jared’s lips.

“
And if I don’t?” he purred. “What are you going do, shoot me? Stake me?”

I’m just waiting to stake you, he thought and licked his lips in anticipation. He’d been hard and ready from the moment he’d caught her scent.

“
I, I –,” she hesitated as if something had distracted her. Jared’s eyes narrowed. Surely she hadn’t heard his thoughts? It took months, sometimes years for mates to form a physic connection.

“
What are you doing here?” she countered as she moved away from him. She inched around him until she was by the door that led outside. He was proud to see she had some protective instincts even if she stood in a house that belonged to a damn vampire. His beast growled again.

“
Look, I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just looking for my friend.”

“
And how do you think you can hurt me, baby? Do you think I’m a vampire?” He indicated the stake with a nod of his head. “That’s what you’re hunting, isn’t it?”

Fear clouded her eyes at his words and Jared longed to take her in his arms and reassure her. And along with the fear he caught a glimmer of what? Belief. Belief in vampires? Belief in things that go bump in the night? He hoped so. Lord, he hoped so with all his heart.

“
I am not a vampire.” He made no attempt to move closer. An excellent hunter, he didn’t want to scare away his prey. Not when he had so many dark, sensual things he wanted to do with her. Like bite the tips of her rosy breasts or lick away the sweet dew he could smell gathering between her thighs. She might be afraid of him, but she was aroused. His cock jerked in response.

“
No, I don’t suppose you are, it being daylight now and all.” As if him keeping his distance made her feel safe, she lowered the stake and holstered her gun. “You’re not a werewolf are you? Because I didn’t bring any silver bullets.” A touch of wry humor curved her lips.

Full, luscious lips Jared thought as the wolf clawed to be set free. Dear God, he wanted her. And he wanted her now. Images of the hundred different ways he’d take her mouth flooded his mind. He allowed those images to flow from his mind. Erotic pictures of him kissing her, sliding into her hot little mouth, bumping against the back of her throat. He smiled in smug satisfaction as color flooded her cheeks. Knowing she had read his thoughts made his animal lung in his chest. She truly was his mate.

“
Do you believe in werewolves?” He circled her, unable to resist sniffing the air that surrounded her. A surge of adrenalin rushed through her veins and heightened her womanly perfume. He could come right where he stood just by inhaling the lovely aroma emanating from her body. The werewolf was an oratory beast, its sense of smell aroused it faster than touch or sight ever could. He couldn’t wait to strip her naked and bury his face between her legs.