Winter of the Wolf (22 page)

Her mouth tightened. He wasn’t giving an inch, was he?

“Breanne, we have hidden for thousands of years. I’m sure you can understand why.”

Actualy, she did understand. Every other science fiction movie showed what happened when aliens—or anything different—came up against the military or scientists. She nodded.

“Because being revealed would be disastrous to us al, our law states that if a shifter reveals the existence of the Daonain to humans, he is kiled.” His uncanny eyes darkened to black, the color of death.

“Oh.” That wasn’t an idle threat.

“Since we usualy trawsfur at least monthly to stay healthy, most live in wilderness or mountain towns.” He leaned back in his chair. “Shifters do not fare wel in cities, surrounded by humans and metal.”

But that’s my home
.Her stomach tightened.

Shay shook his head. “I can’t imagine how the noise and smels didn’t bother you.”

“She wasn’t a shifter then.” Zeb frowned. “But—you ever hear of a Daonain not shifting?”

“Donal wondered the same,” Calum said. “Being surrounded by metal might delay the magic a year or two, but not another decade. You should have died, Breanne.”

“I’ve heard nasty things about city people. Drugs, maybe?” Shay’s gunmetal-blue eyes narrowed. “Did you do drugs, little wolf? It’s al right—we don’t care.” He said drugs as if it were a foreign word, and Bree roled her eyes. “No, big wolf. I tried some as a teen, but nothing even provided me a buzz. Probably the shifter blood.” She gave them a wry look. “The only
drug
I ever took was birth control pils. I’ve been on those since I was fifteen.” They stared at her like she was naked or something, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “What?”

“Are you stil taking them?” Calum asked slowly.

“No. I screwed up, and my refils went to Seattle.”

“You think that was it, Cosantir?” Shay asked.

“Very likely. Between the suppression of magic in the city and a medicine that warps hormones, she might have gone into a type of suspended state.” He studied her for a minute.

“Did you ever experience an overwhelming need to mate?”

“Did you ever experience an overwhelming need to mate?”

“No.” Jeez. From the heat in her face, she’d turned the color of a tomato. He was stil waiting, so she added, “I’ve never been interested in sex at al.”

Shay’s warm hand closed over her cold one. “It’s good you didn’t stop the pils before you found us.”

“Shifting is that important?”

Calum nodded. “Being descended from the Fae means we’re partly
magical
, if that’s what you want to cal it. The animal form connects us with the source—Mother Earth—

and replenishes us. You were dying slowly in the city. And once off your pils, you were wel on your way to death.” Shay’s hand tightened painfuly. His jaw was tight. Zeb looked the same.

“Wel, I didn’t die,” she said lightly.

“No.” Calum leaned back. “But I wonder if we have more lost ones in the cities.”

“That’s not a good thought,” Shay said.

“One for another time.”

“So how long must I stay here?” Bree asked, returning to her main concern.

“Until your mentors judge you capable of being on your own.” Calum tapped his fingers on the table. “Most shifters master everything by five or six months.”
Months
? “But that’s my home.”
Not here
. Seattle was home. Friends. Routines. “I have a-a job. How wil I live?” home. Friends. Routines. “I have a-a job. How wil I live?”

“Ah. Seamus, let us give her free lodging at the Wildwood.”

Her jaw dropped. “You can’t force Zeb and Shay to put me up. They’re running a business, not a charity.”

“Quite fierce on your behalf, isn’t she?” Calum murmured.

A crease appeared in Zeb’s cheek as if he tried not to smile.

Shay grinned. “Thank you, Breanne, but no worries. The Cosantir owns the Wildwood, so the charity wil be his.”

“Oh.” Wel. Now she felt stupid. Her gaze slid to Calum.

“Sorry.” Belatedly she added, “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” His eyes held amusement. “It’s partly self-interest. An unattached female werewolf would never lack for offers of shelter, but your remaining at the Wildwood wil disturb my territory less than other alternatives.” Shay snorted. “Discreetly put.”

“As for earning extra income, the Wild Hunt can always use a barmaid on Friday and Saturday nights.” His gray eyes were kind. “You’ve helped Victoria out for fun. Let me pay you for your time.”

She wasn’t going to win against him. Looked like she’d be here a while. Oh God, somehow she’d have to avoid Klaus.

Her heart thumped hard at the blast of fear.

But, at the same time, she didn’t have to return to her apartment right away. Like a pendulum of emotion, relief apartment right away. Like a pendulum of emotion, relief blew through her. Being with Zeb and Shay was…safe.

And yet, she wanted to go home.
My city, my friends, my
job
. The need to be surrounded by her comfortable routine shook her.

But until she managed to control the unexpected shifts to wolfy form, she couldn’t go back to Seattle. Just imagine her boss’s reaction if she suddenly had four feet and a tail.

Just imagine the Cosantir’s response
. Turning into a wolfy in the wrong place wouldn’t just lose her some friends, but would be her death sentence.

* * *

That evening, Shay finaly finished the paperwork. He gave a grunt of exasperation. By the God, the previous owner must have learned bookkeeping from the dwarves, who believed math was invented by demons. After stretching his cramped back muscles, he grabbed a hard candy from the dish on his desk. Maybe he’d help Zeb with caulking the bathtub upstairs.

As he left the office, he glanced over at the library area and paused.

Bent over a wide oak table, Breanne was working on a jigsaw puzzle. Her golden hair spiled over her shoulders, bright against her fuzzy blue sweater. Her lips pressed bright against her fuzzy blue sweater. Her lips pressed together as she concentrated.

Playing with a little wolf would be far more fun than caulking. He stroled over. “Can I help?”

She jumped and glared at him. “Would it hurt you to make a little noise? Warn a girl?”

“Ah, but sneaking up on vulnerable females is so much fun.” He stood beside her, close enough her shoulder brushed his. When she stiffened, he picked up a puzzle piece.

Sky blue—the color of her eyes.

After a few seconds, she relaxed. “I wanted to talk to you anyway.” She fit a piece into what might eventualy be a log cabin. “I met a woman today. She and her husband run a cleaning business. Jody said the previous owners handled the usual lodge cleaning—like you do—but would cal the service for more rigorous stuff.”

“Rigorous?”

“Um. Yeah. For when someone drinks too much”—she wrinkled her little nose—“or has a fight and leaves blood everywhere. Do fishermen do that much brawling?” Shay smothered his smile.
Not fishermen
. The records indicated the cabins filed every ful moon with unmated shifters here for the Gatherings. Single males were always fighting, hoping to impress the females. “Hiring her might be a good idea. I’m not the greatest housekeeper in the territory.

Not like Zeb.”

“You keep leaving the place a mess, and he’s going to walop you one of these days.” Her sweet giggle grabbed Shay by the bals and squeezed. “I’ve been wondering—how did you learn to fight together?”

“You’re ful of questions these days,” he mused. “I should charge you. Colect some thanks.”

She gave him a puzzled look.

“I showed you how a female thanks a male.” He set a finger under her chin, lifted, and kissed her. Soft, soft lips. A feminine scent with vanila and cinnamon and as sweet as any pastry. He felt her stiffen…but not in fear.

Shay was being so gentle, Bree thought. His lips brushed over hers, then he licked her lower lip. A shiver ran down her spine and pooled into a warm lake at the base.

“Mmm, more,” he murmured. He nibbled on her lips until she opened her mouth, and then swept inside.

He tasted of peppermint and power. As her head spun, she gripped his arms, disconcerted by flexing muscles under her fingers. Anxiety ran through her, and she puled back.

He smiled and turned back to the table as if he hadn’t made the floor shift under her feet.

She stared at him a second, then—heart stil hammering—

picked up a puzzle piece. It dropped from her shaking fingers.

With amusement in his blue-gray eyes, he handed it to her With amusement in his blue-gray eyes, he handed it to her and answered her question. “I was in the Sawtooth Territory when I felt the pul of Herne, caling me to Rainier Territory.

Ailil Ridge has more helhound activity than here, and they’d lost a couple of cahirs. Zeb had already been there about a month.”

“Wait. The pul of Herne. What does that mean?” When he reached for her, she dodged. “Hey, you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“As a lodge-owner, I’ve learned to get payment in advance.” The sound of his smooth husky voice increased the heat rising in her veins. He slid a hand around her waist and puled her to him. His chest was big, wide, and she rested her forehead against it, trying to think.

“Breanne?”

When she lifted her head, his mouth claimed hers. No light kiss this time. His tongue swept in, taking possession. His arm around her waist kept her pinned against him, and his other hand squeezed her bottom.

A hurricane of sensation crashed over her. Her arms wrapped around him, and she could only hold on. The place between her legs woke up, tingling, needing.

He finished with a light nip to her lower lip. Before she could get out of reach, he cupped her chin in a big hand and studied her face. His lips curved as if pleased.

“My answer?” she asked, breathless.

“My answer?” she asked, breathless.

“Years and years ago, I vowed to fight helhounds for the God of the Hunt. Herne.” He traced the mark on his cheek that resembled blue-tinted antlers. “Being oathbound creates a kind of trail between him and me. Of course, it’s nothing like the highway to the God that the Cosantir has.”

“Oh, sure.” Her laugh died when she remembered the shimmering air around Calum, how power had flowed into her when he forced her to shift. “Go on.”

“Now, Zeb likes to move around. No real direction, just whatever place has helhounds. Since I’m oathbound, when Herne needs me somewhere, I’m puled in that direction. I pack up and folow the cal until I arrive.” Pack up and leave? Just like that? Years of various foster-homes had taught her what moving was like. Never belonging, always the new girl. And al Shay had to look forward to was blood and death? She wanted to give him a hug.

“When I got to Rainier Territory, the Cosantir assigned me to work with the newest cahir—Zeb. Said he was an evil-tempered wolf.”

Bree choked on a laugh. “So true.”

“Aye. At first, we fought more than we cooperated.” Shay grinned. “He didn’t like taking orders.”

“And Shay never stopped giving them,” came a rough voice.

voice.

Bree looked around. Zeb leaned on the wal, his arms crossed. His hair was loose, a black curtain over his shoulders. He looked angry, sounded angry, but she knew him now. That tiny crease in his right cheek meant he was trying not to smile. “So how did you work it out?” she asked.

“Wel—”

“Wait.” Shay tugged her hair lightly. “This little wolf is earning her answers with kisses. She pays in advance.”

“But…” Her voice faded to nothing as Zeb’s eyes darkened. He stalked forward, al predator, making her feel like a defenseless rabbit in an open field.

He was taler than Shay, she realized, when he took her wrists and put them around his neck. His scent was as dark as his deeply tanned face. Studying her with black eyes, he puled her inexorably closer until she was up against his hard body. His voice was a low rumble. “You wil earn your answers.” He took her mouth.

Firm, demanding, a little rough, yet gentling immediately.

When her lips relaxed, he took more, wet and deep and urgent, until al the blood in her body slid down to her lower half. As her breasts rubbed on his chest, her nipples tightened as if someone were pinching them.

Her arms tightened around his neck.

When he finaly puled back, he had to steady her. Shay gripped her waist to help. Two sets of men’s hands were gripped her waist to help. Two sets of men’s hands were holding her, and somehow she wasn’t afraid. Al she could see was the fire burning in Zeb’s eyes as he looked at her.

“She paid, so answer her question, a bhràthair,” Shay said, amusement plain in his voice. His huge hands massaged her waist, and she held her breath, wondering if he’d move them elsewhere.

The gravely sound of Zeb’s voice rubbed over her nerves, like the sandpaper that lights a match. “A helhound was chasing a little girl. Too close. I emptied my pistol to turn it around. Figured I’d die. But that idiot”—he glanced at Shay

—“shifted to animal form, even though no wolf can win against a helhound. He ripped at it from the rear.”

“No one realized that our fangs could get between the smaler leg plates. I was just trying to keep Zeb from getting kiled. Actualy getting through the armor was a surprise,” Shay said. His arm slipped around her waist, and he puled her back against his chest. She felt something—he was erect.

Oh my goodness
.

Zeb ran his knuckles over her cheek, drawing her attention. “Before that, he’d tried to talk me into using diversions and teamwork. But I wasn’t interested.”

“You’re more stubborn than a moose in rut.”

“But when the demondung went after Shay, I used one of his fancy ideas. Dove, gutted it, roled out.” Zeb stroked his lips against hers again, as if he couldn’t get enough. “His plan worked.”

Shay snorted.

“So we’re partners,” Zeb finished. “I stil feel like kiling him sometimes.”

“You and what pack?”

Zeb stroked around her ribs until his knuckles rubbed the lower part of her breasts. Shay’s hands were stil curved around her waist. The feeling was…indescribable.