Unbalanced (5 page)

Locan’s gaping wounds and Jett’s cracked skull were fine.

Addie wasn’t sure if shifting had helped her nerves or not, but at least they were all alive and Demonikus was dead. She snuggled close between her men and sighed. “Will we ever know how he came to life?”

“Probably not, but he’s a warning to us.” Locan looped an arm around Jett’s shoulders and pulled him close for a kiss. Then he hugged Addie.

“What do you mean? Why do you think he’s a warning?” She loved the feel of Locan’s embrace, the steady beat of Jett’s heart against her back.

Jett answered. “He wasn’t a natural demon. He was created by man for entertainment. I wonder what brought him to life?”

Addie chuckled. “Probably all that teenaged boy testosterone. They’re the ones playing those dumb games.”

“You could be right.”

She glanced at Locan, expecting to see a twinkle in his blue eyes, but he looked deadly serious. Addie shivered. Locan hugged her close. She felt Jett’s embrace tighten.

Her guys. Holding her tight. Protecting her. Loving her.

“I hope you’re wrong, but I’m afraid you’re not,” she said, absorbing the comfort of two strong men. “There’s no shortage of teenaged boys. Or testosterone.” She sighed. “So what now?”

“We report in,” Jett said. “Work on your skills, and then we go back and hunt more demons.”

“Do you ever run out?” She felt him nudging her backside with more than just his warm, flat belly.

“Never. Job security for demon hunters is a given. Which reminds me. Have I thanked you? For saving my life, for making me see what I feel for Locan?” Jett kissed Locan full on the mouth. Then he planted a warm kiss on the back of Addie’s neck. “Have I told you yet how much I love you?”

“Can we ever tell her enough?” Locan leaned close and kissed her, thrusting his hips forward, brushing Addie exactly where she wanted to be brushed. And touched. Maybe even tasted. She wasn’t all that particular. Not with these two.

“Go right ahead,” she said, smiling as they did exactly what she wanted. What they wanted. Together. Their love for one another was as obvious as their love for her. As hers for them.

Did they really need her as a fulcrum? Maybe not, but they needed her to complete the team. To complete them.

Addie wasn’t about to complain. Like Jett just said, there was no end to demonkind, so there was plenty of job security. And there was no complaining about the benefits. The kind every girl wanted, and exactly what Addie needed.

Two strong men, loving her. Holding her close. Forever.

Coming soon . . .

Turn the page for a preview of
Wolf Tales 12
, the final chapter in the saga of the Chanku, on sale June 28 from
Kensington Books
!

And after that enjoy a bonus excerpt, the first chapter of
DemonFire
, the first book in the DemonSlayers series, available now from
Kensington Books
. . . .

Wolf Tales 12

Wolf Tales—the series that shocked readers with its explicit sex and powerful emotions even as it drew them into the dark and sensual world of the shapeshifting Chanku—is coming to a close. Read a first chapter excerpt of Wolf Tales 12, the final chapter in the saga of the Chanku.

Five years have passed since the Chanku managed to halt an attempt on the president's life. All is well, the packs are thriving, their numbers increasing, but something has Anton concerned. Some sense of danger he can't identify.

And then Lily, beautiful, brilliant, magical Lily, disappears, lost on the astral plane. In this final, searing episode, questions will be answered, a past no one expected is revealed, and the future of the Chanku is altered forever.

Chapter 1

Montana, Early August

He paused, raised his muzzle to the dark sky, and sniffed the subtle currents on the night air. The scent was there—faint, but still calling to him, even as the silent night, the gentle breeze, the resinous scent of pine and fir called.

His eyes narrowed and his ears pricked forward. Using all his senses—those of the wolf, those of the man within and those amazing Chanku senses—he tested the world around him.

This was where he belonged, in this wild, unforgiving place. This was home—the only home he wanted. The only place where he could truly be free.

But what good was freedom without his mate? What was the point? She didn’t run with him tonight. She hadn’t run with him for much too long.

A low whine sounded from the thick tangle of willows. Cautiously he sniffed the air again. The scent was stronger. Not his mate. No, but someone every bit as important. Someone he sought here in the forest, in the ripe hours balanced on the knife’s edge between darkness and dawning. Those perfect hours, when all about him slept.

Even the skitter of mice in the long grass, the squeak of bats overhead, the soft hoot of owls . . . even those sounds had faded away as all the woodland creatures went off to sleep, to hide, to mate . . . to celebrate another night of life before the rising of the sun.

But he was awake, and so was this other, the one who was his friend, his brother, his closest male companion. The one he loved above all other men. The one who called to him now.

Quite literally, in fact.

“Anton? Over here.”

Anton Cheval slowly turned in the direction of the soft call and blinked as Stefan Aragat rose to two feet. Despite the darkness, Anton saw his smile. Thank the Goddess for a man who smiled, even when all about them seemed so . . . what? How could it be, that he felt so dissatisfied?

Life was good. All was well, and yet . . .

Shifting, standing as a man beside his lover, Anton chuckled. “You couldn’t sleep, either?”

Stefan shook his head, ran long fingers through dark hair threaded with silver, and sighed dramatically. “Teething is the bane of parenthood.” His familiar dry sense of humor eased some of the odd tension stringing Anton tight as a bow.

“I did my fatherly duty,” Stef said, placing his right hand over his heart. “I spelled Xandi the first half of the night, but it’s her turn. She’s on kid duty now, praise the Goddess!”

Anton flashed him an understanding grin as he stepped over the low-growing willows. “Lucia was fussing, too. I waited until she fell asleep. Unfortunately, Keisha was nursing her when they both drifted off. There wasn’t much room left in the bed.”

“There was always plenty of room for four adults.” Stefan laughed and hooked his arm around Anton’s neck. “How is it a single woman and a three-month-old can take up the entire bed?”

Silence stretched between them for a long count as Anton thought about the statement Stefan had made in jest. “So much has changed,” he said, unsure if it was a good or bad thing. He leaned into Stef’s casual embrace and stared toward the east, searching for the coming dawn. Was that a faint glow between the trees? No. Not yet. He glanced at Stef. “It’s all good, I think. All these changes, but . . .”

Stefan’s amber eyes twinkled. “But you’re dissatisfied. I can feel it. What’s wrong, my friend? Everything is as it should be. The pack is growing. Our children are strong and healthy. We’ve gone a full five years without an attack, a kidnapping, an assault of any kind against any one of us . . .”

“Not since the assassination attempt.” Anton shoved his tangled hair back from his eyes, remembering. Those hectic months following the attempt on the president’s life had ended with lengthy prison sentences meted out to their worst enemies. There were still plenty of bad guys out there, but at least none were focused on controlling or destroying Chanku.

Their secret was still safe. With Nick and Beth Barden continuing as private security for the First Family—at least until the president’s second term ended—they certainly had powerful friends in high places.

“So, what’s the problem? It’s not like you to go searching for trouble.” Stefan planted both hands on Anton’s shoulders and stared solemnly at him. There was no teasing now, no sense of humor. Merely concern. Loving concern.

Feeling a little foolish, Anton slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Maybe things are too good, too settled. I have a strong sense of change in the air, as if something is going to happen. No reason for it. We’re all healthy, our children are growing.” He smiled. “Our numbers are growing, that’s for sure. I never once imagined myself as a husband, much less a father of four.”

“You’re not the only one. I never thought of myself as a father. At least Xandi’s content with our three. I hope.”

Anton raised an eyebrow. “I believe Ariel counts as two.”

“That’s sort of what Xandi and I think. Ariel’s made Alex look like the world’s easiest baby.” Stefan chuckled. “So why the dissatisfaction? Our once cozy foursome of known Chanku now numbers fifty-six, a number that will be growing quickly with Liana, Jazzy, Tala and Daci expecting. No one’s tried to kill us in the past five years.” He raised one expressive eyebrow. “In case you’re wondering, that’s a good thing. You’ve completed purchase of over half a million acres adjoining this property, the economy’s strong and our business ventures are all showing a profit. Anton, my friend, only you could find something wrong with so much that’s good.”

Again Anton shrugged. He wished the sense of foreboding would leave him, but he’d learned to listen to his premonitions. Still, he hated to worry Stefan. He wasn’t about to let Keisha in on his fears, either, not until or unless they actually proved valid.

“You know me,” he said, feeling just a little bit foolish. “I’m never happy unless I’m worried about something.” He laughed. “I imagine it has to do with control issues. If I can’t identify it, I can’t be in charge.”

Stefan chuckled, but he kept his comments to himself. That alone got him a raised eyebrow from Anton. Damn. He hated a sense of something waiting when he didn’t know what to expect. “It’s odd. Nothing I can put a finger on, but I have the strangest sense that things are about to change. I can’t explain it, but I’m afraid to ignore it.”

Stefan leaned his forehead against Anton’s. “Aren’t you the one who told me change is good?”

“I may have said something stupid like that at some point. I don’t know, Stef . . .” Anton took a deep breath, inhaling Stefan’s scent, feeling the warmth from his body, sensing as much as hearing the rush of blood in his veins, the steady beat of his heart. He tangled his fingers in the thick fall of hair at Stefan’s nape, angled his head just right, and kissed him.

This at least he understood. This he could control.

There was no hesitation in Stefan’s response. His lips were firm. Cool at first from the night air, and then warming as they pressed close to Anton’s, as they parted beneath the gentle probing of his tongue.

Heads tilting for easier access, tongues tangling, they stood perfectly still as they kissed—longtime lovers and friends, as familiar to one another as the face in the mirror, as emotionally linked as if they were bonded mates.

As they explored the intimate recesses of one another’s mouths, their hearts found their perfect rhythm and fell into a synchronicity never explained, yet never doubted or questioned.

Some things, my friend, are better because they don’t change. Because they’re familiar and beloved
. Anton ended the kiss and leaned back enough to peer into Stef’s dark amber eyes.

Stef nodded.
This is true. C’mon. Follow me.
He took Anton’s hand and tugged lightly.

Smiling, Anton allowed himself to be led, following the narrow trail through the tangled willows until there was nothing but soft, dry grass beneath his bare feet, and the musical notes of water dancing in the shadows.

He tilted his head, listening to the soothing sound of the small waterfall. “I’m surprised the water’s still falling this late in the season. Most years it’s barely a trickle by now.”

Stef’s low chuckle sent a wave of gooseflesh down his arms, across his chest. “Why are you whispering, o exalted leader?”

Anton laughed out loud. “Not sure. Habit, I guess. Afraid of waking the babies?”

“They can’t hear us here, and personally, I fully intend to make a lot of noise.” Stef plopped down on a blanket he’d obviously laid out in advance. Again, he tugged Anton’s hand. “You coming?”

“I certainly hope to.” He’d grown hard from the first touch of Stefan’s lips against his, but now, knowing what his friend had planned, Anton’s heart raced and the breath strained his lungs. He stretched out on the soft blanket beside Stefan, trying to look calmer than he actually felt. It had been a long time since they’d done this.
Too damned long
. He ran his fingers across the sharp ridge of Stef’s collarbone. “How did you know I’d follow you?”

“When have you not?” Stefan’s voice sounded hoarse, as if it were an effort to form the words, but it was obvious he had other things on his mind. He ran his hand over Anton’s shoulder, followed the muscular curve of his arm, trailed across the sharp jut of hip bone and then cupped the rounded curve of his butt.

Anton’s buttocks clenched involuntarily, tightening around Stefan’s fingers as they slipped along the clenched valley between his cheeks and paused over his puckered sphincter. He groaned and forced his muscles to relax. Stefan never said a word. With his eyes focused on Anton’s, he stroked intimately and probed lightly—not enough pressure to penetrate, but more than enough to tease.

Damn, but he’d missed this. What had once occurred nightly was now too rare—this intimate time alone. Time to explore one another’s bodies, to wallow in the pure sensuality of taste and scent and touch, of fucking until their legs trembled and their overwhelming Chanku sex drives were—for the moment, at least—sated.

When had their lives grown so complicated that their time together had almost disappeared? Was this what was missing? These private moments? Did this alone explain Anton’s absurd dissatisfaction with what should otherwise be a perfect life?

Stefan leaned close and caught Anton’s left nipple between the sharp edges of his teeth and bit down. Hard.

Holy hell!
Anton groaned a soft expletive. “Oh, shit. Stef.” The curse felt like a prayer, escaping on a hiss of pleasure. He’d worry about all his dissatisfaction crap later. For now there were better things to occupy his mind—and his body. At this moment, in this place, Stefan Aragat was quickly becoming the center of his world. Stefan and the soft breezes and seductive scents of man and sweat and arousal, of forest and night and the two of them.

Just the two of them.

Anton sat up and countered Stefan’s painful nip, running his fingers through dark hair laced with silver on Stef’s chest, trailing slowly down and down farther, through the silky strands. Stefan stretched out on his side and propped himself up on one elbow, moving slowly while Anton paused to twirl a fingertip in the dip of his navel. He moaned softly when Anton spread his fingers wide to push through the thick hair covering Stef’s groin.

So perfect, that smooth, sleek feel of hair that had, at one time, been coarse and curly. Shifting had changed that. Years of shifting from human to wolf and back again, until the coarse curls had eventually relaxed and now lay sleek and smooth like the fine undercoat of a wolf. Even his beloved Keisha’s once tightly kinked hair—long the bane of her existence—now fell past her shoulders in shimmering waves of midnight silk.

So many changes over the years to both bodies and lives, but the best change of all was this—this amazing sexual need that always culminated in such exquisite pleasure, such absolute fulfillment. When Anton clasped the thick root of Stefan’s erection, both of them groaned. The sensation of that hot length of hard flesh sliding across his palm made a connection like nothing else. He squeezed tighter. Stef groaned again and arched into his grasp.

Anton nudged Stef’s shoulder with his forehead, toppling him from his side to his back. He sat there for a long moment, studying the perfect body, the powerful stretch and pull of taut muscle and sleek flesh. Anton’s breath caught in his throat and his entire body thrummed with arousal.

Straddling Stef’s legs, he leaned over and, cupping Stef’s heavy sac in one hand and the thick length of his cock in the other, drew damp circles around the crown of his erection with the tip of his tongue.

He spent long minutes exploring. Licking, tasting, nipping at the silky skin covering such hard, quivering muscle. He sucked the rounded glans between his lips and found the narrow slit, sucking first, and then dipping his tongue into it, tasting the first salty, bittersweet drops of semen that appeared as Stef’s arousal grew. He circled Stef’s growing erection, using his tongue and lips, nibbling with the sharp edges of his teeth as he worked his way up and then down the thick shaft.

Opening his thoughts to Stefan’s swirling impressions, he felt the hot press of his own tongue, the sharp nips, the exquisite pressure when he locked his lips around the broad crown and sucked hard, when he stretched the small opening with the tip of his tongue, forcing entry to the point of pain.

But not beyond. Sharing the sensations, reacting to Stefan’s internal barometer of what worked, what didn’t, he knew exactly how to please his lover. Anton’s own erection felt hot and heavy, rising slowly to press against his taut belly, and he shared that with Stefan, that sense of hot blood throbbing along his length, accompanied by the perfect ache of arousal. His balls tightened up close between his legs, muscles hardened in response to taste and touch, blood rushed into his cock until he was fully engorged.

And ready. He was so ready to take it further, but delaying satisfaction, teasing . . . the slow build of sensation was a luxury neither of them had indulged in for much too long.