Strength of the Pack (8 page)

“Major Connolly,” Noah called, voice deep and resonate. Lucas shivered.

The Major’s head whipped around and immediately spotted Noah. He excused himself from his crew and quickly approached Noah. Lucas watched, amazed, as Connolly seemed to shrink as he drew closer to Noah. His shoulders hunched and his head hung low. Connolly glanced at Noah’s face several times but never fully met his eyes.

“You must be Noah Hammond,” the major said.

“I am,” Noah replied calmly.

“I’d heard you were coming, sir.”

The use of the honorific surprised Lucas. It took him several heartbeats to realize their military ranks played no part in this interaction.

“This is Lucas Young,” Noah introduced him.

“Sir,” Connolly said with a respectful nod.

Lucas had no idea why he, as a human lieutenant, rated such deference.

“The run tonight,” Noah said, pulling all attention back to himself. “What’s the SOP?”

“We stage here and run into the desert.” Connolly gestured first toward the ground they stood on then off toward the perimeter barricades beyond the runway.

“Have you been keeping the head count?” Noah asked.

“No, sir,” the major replied. “Until this month, there’s only ever been a dozen of us, at most.”

“Well, that’s certainly changed,” Noah said dryly.

“So, you’ll lead the run tonight?” Connolly asked, still hunched and not quite meeting Noah’s eyes. “Scuttlebutt says you’ll only be here a couple days at most.”

“I’ll lead the run tonight,” Noah confirmed. “Lucas will stand Sentinel. And that’s affirmative; we’re stepping off in two days. I’m not going to designate a pack leader, so those of you staying are going to have to settle the hierarchy on your own.”

“Understood, sir,” Connolly replied with a small smile. “Won’t be the first time.”

They left Major Connolly to return to his crew. “What does it mean that I ‘stand Sentinel’?” Lucas asked.

“You plan on standing watch with your roster again, don’t you?” Noah glanced at him briefly as they walked.

“We’re in an unfamiliar country,” replied Lucas. “I think it’s even more important that I be available if any of you run into trouble.”

“That’s standing Sentinel,” Noah answered simply.

“I didn’t know there was actually a name for it,” Lucas muttered. “I thought you were just humoring me last time.”

Noah halted and turned to face Lucas. “I take you very seriously,” he said in a low voice, eyes piercing.

“As Sentinel, do I have other responsibilities to…the pack? To…to you?” Lucas’ heart raced so fast it nearly stole his breath.

There was a long pause, and Noah didn’t meet Lucas’ eyes. “The position is pretty much what you make it,” he finally said. “It all depends on your relationship to the pack and to the True Alpha.”

Lucas knew what his relationship was to the pack. He thought he knew what his relationship was to Noah, but memories of their encounter rushed back with an intensity that nearly staggered him. He’d thought it would make things awkward between the two of them; instead it seemed to have established some sort of deeper connection. Lucas didn’t understand it.

They reached a row of hooches that housed privates and corporals. Noah stepped up and rapped the backs of his knuckles against a door. Corporal Chandler answered.

“Gather the others and meet us at the main gate,” Noah ordered.

Chandler acknowledged the order.

Lucas walked along beside Noah as they made their way to the main gate of the base. He admired the slow, long-limbed grace with which Noah moved. Watching him, Lucas had to admit he’d enjoyed pinning that lithe body down and marking it with his teeth. He liked the feel of Noah beneath him, the sounds he made, as well as the scent of him.

“What’s next?” Lucas asked, giving himself a mental shake.

“We’re going to walk the perimeter of the base and check security,” replied Noah, voice sounding oddly strained. “We’ll be leaving the FOB during the run, and if we encounter trouble and have to retreat quickly, I want to make sure we’ll be returning to a defensible position.”

“It’s a Marine Corps Forward Operating Base,” Lucas said dubiously. “How much more secure could it be?”

Noah glanced around them, lifting his face into the spare breeze as he answered. “Marines are guarding against Taliban, hostile forces and insurgents. If the wolves have to retreat, it’s likely we’ll be fleeing from something else entirely.”

“Shit,” Lucas breathed. “I hadn’t considered that.”

They reached the main gate, and Lucas glanced around to see if the shifters were nearby. He saw them approaching as a group, dust and sand kicked up around them as they pulled down the brims of their covers against the dirt and sun.

“It’s fine if you trail along while we walk the perimeter, Lucas,” Noah said. The use of his name, in that husky tone, surprised him. “But I need you to stay downwind from me.” He surprised Lucas further by placing a hand in the small of his back and leaving it there.

“Wh…why?” Lucas’ face flamed at his own stutter.

“Because I need to be able to smell anything suspicious.” Noah lowered his head and pressed his face to Lucas’ neck.

Lucas’ eyes widened in shock, and his breath caught in his chest. He heard Noah inhale deeply. All around them, he could see Marines taking an interest in the two of them.

“And your scent is very distracting,” Noah growled against the shell of his ear just before he stepped away.

Lucas stood frozen, watching Noah and the other three werewolves stride toward the tall barricade walls of the base. Many of the Marines they encountered gave ground readily, bowing ever so slightly in Noah’s direction. Their behavior seemed to be an answer of some kind for other onlookers. Those that showed Noah deference also gave Lucas respectful nods if they walked by.

All around him, the base went about its business, oblivious to the fact that for Lucas, the world had stopped spinning.

Afterward, Noah changed the entire procedure for the run. He sent Chandler, Hubbard and Grant to spread the word among the werewolves.

“Why the main gate?” Lucas asked, genuinely curious but trusting Noah’s judgment implicitly.

“Watch towers,” Noah answered with a vague gesture. “They have the best vantage point to see us if we have to make a fast getaway.”

“Solid logic,” Lucas replied, even knowing Noah didn’t require his approval.

Lucas located Gunny McAlister and advised him of Noah’s plans for the run. Together, they headed for command to file the necessary paperwork. He wasn’t sure what reaction he expected from the battalion commanders, but disinterest and easy acceptance wasn’t it.

“See,” said Vince, as they left the building. “They got over being pissy and adjusted their battle plans. They know they have no choice but to go along with Noah.”

“All right, point taken,” Lucas said with a laugh.

He returned to the hooch he shared with a lieutenant from Echo Company. There was no one there. Lucas prepped his bedroll with everything he thought he’d need to
stand Sentinel
, whatever that meant.

When the sun touched the very tops of the Afghan mountains and the temperature dipped, he gathered up his gear and set out for the main gate. He spotted Noah immediately, head lowered in conversation with several Marines.

As Lucas watched, Noah’s posture stiffened slightly. His nostrils flared and he looked up, eyes meeting Lucas’ unerringly. A corner of his mouth lifted in a small smile. Noah glanced up at one of the watch towers and gave a shrill whistle.

“Good evening,” Lucas greeted when he reached the cluster of Marines. He received respectful but subdued greetings in return. He noticed that one of the Marines was a captain, and he very nearly saluted. He caught himself in time, but only because the captain actually turned to bow slightly in his direction.

“Lieutenant,” greeted the captain quietly.

A sergeant came charging down the stairs of the tower. He saluted the captain and Lucas, before addressing himself to Lucas.

“I’ll take your bedroll for you, Lieutenant,” he said eagerly. “We’ve got a space set aside for you, so you can come on up whenever you’re ready.”

Lucas had no idea what was going on. He glanced at Noah in confusion.

“You’ll stand Sentinel in the watch tower, Lucas,” he explained gently. “They’ll be the first to know if we’re coming back hot, and they can rouse you. Otherwise, I’ll feel better knowing you’re safe while you sleep.”

“I don’t want to be in the way,” Lucas protested, even as the sergeant took his bedroll from his suddenly numb hands.

“You won’t be, sir. There’s plenty of room.” The sergeant easily climbed the stairs, M16 in one hand, Lucas’ bedroll in the other.

Lucas needed something to do, so he clicked his pen and consulted his roster. He checked off Noah, Chandler, Hubbard and Grant. Several more Marines provided their names.

“Andersen, Brady,” said the captain. He turned toward Noah. “Does he know that’s not necessary with you?”

Noah chuckled, and Lucas felt himself flush. “Yes, he knows. But this is how Lucas stands Sentinel. He’s also ready to send help if I send anyone back with a request for it.”

Lucas bristled slightly, feeling the need to defend himself. “If something were to happen to Noah, we’d be able to verify who else did or didn’t make it back from the run.”

“I hadn’t thought of that, Lieutenant,” Brady replied jovially. “You make a good point.”

When Lucas glanced back at Noah, he saw that his eyes were silver and wolf-like. Lucas swallowed hard and not from fear.

He was thankfully distracted by more Marines checking in as the sky grew darker. The group was smaller than the one from Pendleton, but it was still sizeable, over one hundred Marines.

“Everyone’s here, let’s head out,” Noah shouted to the assembled weres.

Immediately, the group headed out the open gate. Several Marines carried empty canvas bags. Lucas assumed they were to hold the discarded clothing during the run.

Noah watched the majority of the weres walk out into the growing darkness before he approached Lucas. Noah had already shed his utility cap. He tugged off Lucas’ as well and handed it to him.

Lucas gasped when Noah’s arms came around him. In his surprise, he let himself be pulled against Noah’s super-heated body. In his confusion, he gripped Noah’s hips to hold himself steady.

Noah buried his face in Lucas’ neck and took a deep breath. He skimmed his cheek along Lucas’, and Lucas pressed back against him. Noah’s large, strong hands slid up Lucas’ back. Noah rubbed his cheek against Lucas’ hair.

“Would you…” Noah breathed against the shell of Lucas’ ear. “Would you…”

His hesitance surprised Lucas. “What? Would I what?” he asked.

“Bite me?” Noah whispered. “Bite my neck. Would you leave your mark on me?”

Lucas didn’t understand the request. He guessed it was a werewolf ritual. He didn’t need to understand it. Noah seemed to need it, and that was all Lucas needed to know. He turned his head into Noah’s neck and sank his teeth hard into the pulse point beneath his lips.

Noah’s arms came around him tightly, pulling their bodies flush together. “Oh, fuck, Lucas,” he moaned.

Lucas felt him shiver. Slowly, reluctantly, Lucas released the flesh between his teeth and stepped back. He heard Noah sigh.

“You’d better go,” Lucas said, his voice rough to his own ears.

“See you in the morning,” Noah said, wolf-eyes glowing silver in the falling darkness.

Lucas watched in stunned silence as Noah turned and strode purposefully out the gate.

When Noah’s broad shoulders were finally out of sight, Lucas slowly climbed the stairs to the watch tower. The sergeant and a corporal were both looking through night scopes. Lucas assumed they were watching the group of werewolves.

“They’re shifting,” the sergeant murmured.

“Yeah,” replied the corporal.

“Is that Hammond running off?”

“Think so. Is that all of them?”

“Yep. Nothing out there on two legs.”

The sergeant lowered his scope and turned to Lucas. “Lieutenant Young, I’m Sergeant Rigby. This is Corporal Irving.” He gestured just behind Lucas. “We set you up in that corner, sir.”

“I don’t want to be in the way,” Lucas said, glancing around the small area.

“You won’t be, sir,” Rigby replied. “Irving and I have the duty until morning. Sergeant Hammond gave us orders to wake you at the first sign of trouble. Otherwise, we’ll wake you when our relief arrives, just before daybreak.”

“You’re sure I’m not in your way up here?” Lucas asked one last time.

“Not at all, sir,” answered Rigby firmly.

Lucas took him at his word. He spread out his bedroll and settled down on it. Leaning against the wall, he used his pocket Maglite to finish some paperwork by hand. He’d thought he would be sleeping outside on the ground so he’d left his laptop in his hooch.