Winter of the Wolf Page 6

  Zeb spoke carefuly. “Vicki, the Cosantir is upset.” She glanced at the bartender, and her jaw dropped.

  “Fuck! Um, Calum? It… I just wasn’t expecting…” She looked at Zeb helplessly.

  “Calum,” Zeb said softly. “Our only meeting was at a Gathering. She doesn’t want me.” He held his hand out to Vicki. “Give me your hand. Slowly.”

  Vicki. “Give me your hand. Slowly.”

  Her smal fingers were the size of Breanne’s, he noticed.

  When he raised her arm, he saw two lifemating bracelets.

  She was bonded to two males, and apparently, one was Calum.

  Her wrists had been bare last fal. New ties meant unstable mates. Hoping he wouldn’t get his throat ripped out, he pressed a kiss to her wrist, heard another low snarl.

  Not even bothering to check the scent, he held her arm out to her mate. “No attraction. Just a Gathering.” Leaning over the bar, Calum took the woman’s wrist in his hand, bent, and inhaled. Stiled. Cradling her hand, he closed his eyes, taking deep, slow breaths. Seconds passed. When he opened his eyes, his irises had returned to dark gray.

  Zeb puled in a relieved breath and tried to unknot his muscles.

  “Forgive me, cahir,” Calum said. He kissed his mate’s fingers before releasing her. “I overreacted.”

  “New mates.” Zeb shrugged. “If I didn’t like being a step from death, I wouldn’t be a cahir.”

  Calum winced, then turned his gaze to his lifemate.

  “Victoria, if I might speak to you in the kitchen for a moment?” He headed that way without waiting.

  “Fucking A, that was freaky.” Vicki pushed her long brown hair back and smiled at Zeb. “Sorry. I heard about new cahirs coming, but I didn’t realize one was you. Last fal new cahirs coming, but I didn’t realize one was you. Last fal was my first and only Gathering, so I’m stil…” She flushed again. “Hel. Welcome to Cold Creek?”

  “Thanks.” Zeb jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Go, before he comes out after you.”

  “No shit. The bastard would, too.”

  Zeb watched as she was snagged by her mate before she barely got through the kitchen door. Little as she was, she almost disappeared within Calum’s embrace.

  Chuckling inside, Zeb lifted his beer and sucked down a hefty swalow. A shame Vicki had already bonded to Calum and Alec when he met her; she’d have been a delight to mate.

  Come to think of it, the moon was ful tomorrow. There would be a Gathering.

  A noise recaled him to the present. He glanced down at the female next to him.

  Her eyes were so big and blue that looking in them was like faling into a mountain lake. “Was he going to attack you?”

  Oh, fuck, they’d done this show in front of a human. Talk about indiscreet. How to fix this? Talking fast was Shay’s job. “Ah, his…wife and I had a previous”— almost mating—“encounter.

  “She

  and

  Calum

  haven’t

  been”— lifebound—“married long, and he stil gets jealous quickly.” The type of jealous where he’d gut a man and leave his intestines strewn across the floor.

  his intestines strewn across the floor.

  “No kidding.” She sipped her drink, and then those blue eyes fixed on him like spotlights on a police car. “What does kaheer and ko-san-something mean?”

  “Local slang.” When the bar door opened, Zeb turned, hoping for a diversion. Alec. That would work.

  Stil in uniform, the sheriff crossed the room with a wave for the females playing pool. Just a friendly cop with the stalking stride of a werecat. The two women watched with open appreciation.

  Alec stopped beside Zeb. “Ca—” With a glance at Breanne, he smoothly revised to, “Shal we sit at a table?”

  “Good plan.” Go where they could talk without censoring their language for a human.

  “Let me get a drink.” Alec frowned at the lack of a bartender, looked toward the kitchen, and his eyebrows rose. “I have to say, the service in this place has gone sadly downhil in the last few months.”

  Zeb folowed his gaze. Calum had one arm around his mate’s waist, the other on her ass, and was kissing her as if it was Gathering night and she was in heat. He snorted.

  When Breanne laughed, Alec gave her an easy smile. “Are you new to town?”

  Zeb frowned and moved closer to the little female.

  “There’s definitely something in the water,” she murmured, her gaze going from Alec to Zeb. “Breanne murmured, her gaze going from Alec to Zeb. “Breanne Galagher, and I’m renting a cabin at the Wildwood.” After a slight hesitation, she held out her hand.

  She hadn’t volunteered to shake hands with Zeb yesterday.

  “Alec McGregor. Welcome to Cold Creek. If there’s anything I can do to help you settle in, let me know.”

  “Thank you.”

  Alec grinned at Zeb and went behind the bar to fetch his own drink.

  When Zeb started to move away, Breanne reached out.

  After a moment, she actualy touched his arm. “I—ah, I actualy wanted to talk to you. About learning how to shoot a gun.”

  “You? Why would a female want a weapon?” She roled her eyes. “And here I thought dinosaurs went extinct. Target shooting is my new hobby, and I need lessons.”

  “No.”

  “Men.” Hair tangled and lips swolen, Vicki walked over and grinned at Breanne. “Can’t live with ‘em, but if you have a weapon, at least you can shoot them.”

  “My thought exactly.” Breanne gave Zeb an annoyed look, then bit her lower lip between white, even teeth.

  Soft-looking lips. Pink and—

  “If I don’t get lessons,” she said, “I’l probably shoot

  “If I don’t get lessons,” she said, “I’l probably shoot myself in the foot.”

  “I’ve heard Zeb is damned accurate,” Vicki offered.

  “Couldn’t ask for a better instructor.”

  What the fuck was the Cosantir’s mate doing? Didn’t someone say she was hel on wheels in a fight and with weapons? Why was she tossing him to this—this blue-eyed human?

  Breanne gave him an appealing look, stil biting her lip.

  Those lips just begged for a man’s mouth. But she’s human. He scowled.

  She flinched and took a step back, the scent of fear in the air. “Never mind. I’l find someone else.” He should be used to being disliked, and fuck, he didn’t care if he scared males. But it hurt to know he terrified little females. “You get your pistol,” Zeb growled, even more pissed off when she took another step away from him. “I wil, at least, show you how to miss your foot.” Her scent stil held a hint of fear, but when she smiled at him, he had to close his eyes against her appeal. Fuck. Vicki might have given him a push, but he was the one offering up his own throat. To a human.

  Chapter Six

  Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory ~ Full moon Bree had woken a couple of hours before dawn, unable to sleep any longer. Grumbling, she puled on her clothes.

  After a glance at the wal heater, she grabbed a log from the basket, knelt by the stil-warm woodstove, and opened the door. Live coals remained under the white ashes.

  A flurry of sparks rose as something in the coals moved. A lizard-like head rose, and black beady eyes glinted at her.

  Bree fel backwards onto her butt, yelping as the impact jarred her wounds. The thing stared at her, wiggled its reptilelike body, and settled down.

  Whoa. She stared back. Almost the same size as the wingless fairies, but jeez, she’d never seen any of them in a fire. It didn’t seem evil, not like the monster. Or a cockroach.

  In fact, it was almost cute, in a reptilian sort of way with luminous scales that glowed as red as the coals. Its head turned toward the log she’d dropped, and it squirmed again.

  “You want more fire?” she asked slowly.

  A very enthusiastic wiggle.

  “When did my life get so weird?” She set the log on the coals
beside the lizard-thing. The wood ignited quickly, sending up pretty yelow flames. Bree watched the lizard as its long tail flickered back and forth. How could anything live its long tail flickered back and forth. How could anything live there?

  But it leaped into the fire and spiraled in the flames as if with a lover. After shooting up the stovepipe in a fountain of sparks, it dived back into the coals, as playful as a dolphin in the waves. A flame-dancer. Grinning, Bree leaned back to enjoy the show.

  Eventualy, her leg announced it needed to be stretched, and she rose to her feet. “Sorry, buddy, I need to get moving.”

  The lizard-thing responded with an impertinent lash of its tail as she closed the glass door.

  She prowled around her slowly warming cabin and scowled at the il-equipped kitchen. Why hadn’t she packed some of her copper-bottomed pots and pans? And a few knives. Her herbs. She shook her head. Might as wel be cooking over a campfire—at least that would have the benefit of a smoky flavor. Did lizard-things visit campfires? Were they like flower-fairies in that only she could see them?

  “I wish I knew if these things realy exist, or if I need to be locked up,” she muttered. To settle herself, she put on Leonard Cohen for some moody music, made coffee, started some bread, and set the dough to rise.

  Inventiveness at an end, she walked a circle around the place— cabin fever, anyone?—and noticed the blue curtains at the front of the cabin glowed. She peeked through them.

  at the front of the cabin glowed. She peeked through them.

  The light came from the ful moon. Wel, duh, no wonder she was twitchy. She always got restless and achy at ful moons.

  Like her friends with PMS—something else she’d never experienced.

  PMS. Criminy, I almost forgot . She went into the bathroom to rummage through her toiletries bag. Dang dang dang. No birth control packets remained, and she’d taken the last pil yesterday. Her mail order pharmacy would have already shipped her next three months, so the box probably sat in her apartment mailbox. By the time she could get it forwarded here, her cycle would be al screwed up.

  She might as wel go off the pils for a month, then restart them in Seattle with her next period. Not even dawn, and the day was going downhil.

  After puling on her jacket, she stepped onto the porch and let the frigid air shock the temper out of her. Leaning against the rough porch post, she stretched her throbbing leg and looked around at the night.

  The huge, golden moon hung over the western mountains, and the light was so heavy it seemed to reverberate in her bones. Around her, the forest talked to itself—bare branches creaking, a gurgle from the unfrozen center of the creek, the rustle of animals. That skittering sound in the dry brush—

  what would that be?

  A smal chittering made her look up in time to see a tiny body disappear into a tree trunk hole. Guess she’d made body disappear into a tree trunk hole. Guess she’d made enough noise to wake up a fairy. Could her parents see them? God, she had to figure out who she was and where she came from.

  At least her first goal was on its way to being accomplished. She’d bought a pistol. And she’d found an instructor. One that scared her to death, with his Vin Diesel, I-prefer-to-slaughter-people-rather-than-talk-to-them attitude. But slaughter was exactly what she needed to learn.

  And quickly too.

  In three weeks, she’d have to return to Seattle and pack up her apartment. What if the monster found her again? “I’ll be back for another taste, ” it had whispered before she passed out. She swalowed against the urge to vomit. Pushed away the need to shower and scrub and scrub and scrub.

  Slow breaths. Feel the clean air. Watch the beautiful moon slide behind the mountains.

  As her stomach settled, she heard voices. A woman’s laughter. Bree glanced down the narrow road to her left. The lodge was dark and quiet. Maybe she was hearing people at the tavern? As the crow flew, it would be about a block or so away, and she’d noticed how clearly sound carried in the quiet mountains. But weren’t bars supposed to close at two a.m.?

  Sounded like fun though. She sat down on the single porch step and listened. Men and women caling goodbyes, car step and listened. Men and women caling goodbyes, car doors slamming. She’d missed the sound of people. After being surrounded in a busy restaurant every day, she found the cabin awfuly lonely.

  The faint crunch of boots on snow made Bree stiffen.

  Zeb and Shay walked down the road, two huge men who moved as gracefuly as animals. They realy were gorgeous.

  Ashley would have flirted herself sily with Shay. Bree sighed, feeling very alone. I miss you, Ash.

  At the lodge, Zeb lifted his head as if he were sniffing the air and said something. Shay looked toward her. As his partner went into the lodge, Shay headed toward Bree’s cabin.

  A shiver of nervousness ran up her spine, and she rose.

  Suddenly, the night seemed far too empty, and she had the urge to run inside and lock the door.

  His gait silent in the wet dirt, he stroled closer. “You’re either up early or you haven’t been to bed. Problems?” The moon behind him left his face in shadow and seemed to make his body bigger than it realy was. His shoulders blotted out an entire mountain range.

  She smothered a gulp. “No. I just couldn’t sleep. Were you at a party over there?” She nodded toward the Wild Hunt.

  When he leaned against the porch post, she relaxed. He’d turned so she could see his face, the curve of his lips, the turned so she could see his face, the curve of his lips, the strong jaw. Not a man-monster stinking of rotting meat; just a powerful man with the soapy fragrance of a recent shower.

  “We went for a while,” he agreed. “Why can’t you sleep?

  Is something wrong with the cabin?”

  She laughed. A true innkeeper. “Not at al. I was listening to the woods, trying to figure out what I’m hearing. Not that I can tel—I’ve never been away from Seattle before.”

  “A city girl. Let’s see if I can help.” He tipped his head to listen, and then pointed toward the road. “There’s a skunk over there.”

  Bree leaned forward. “Where?”

  Shay moved behind her, extending his arm along her line of sight. “By the big patch of snow.”

  A smal black and white animal waddled along the tree line, tail arching in the air. “Oh, it is! I think I saw him before.”

  The chuckle was deep and smooth. “Good eyes, a leannan, he lives around here. This spring, he’l invite a new female to his den each night.” He set a hand on her shoulder and turned her slightly. “A doe is in the brush.” Squinting, she made out a brown shadow and the movement of a head. The deer stepped onto the road and into the moonlight so gracefuly it took her breath away.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Yes.” His hand stil rested on her shoulder, very warm,

  “Yes.” His hand stil rested on her shoulder, very warm, very big, and she could feel his breath on her neck, the heat from his body on her back.

  When she tried to edge away, his arm came around her waist, puling her back against a hard chest. “Shhh, look to your right.”

  Her need to escape disappeared when a smal animal—a dog?—trotted across the lodge clearing. Its coat flashed with red in the moonlight. “What is it?”

  “Fox.”

  “Wow.” As the fox disappeared, Bree realized her position. The man’s arm crossed her stomach like an iron bar, and his hand gripped her hip, holding her in place. Her breathing hitched. She puled away, almost surprised when he released her. She retreated a step, and her nervousness dissipated when he didn’t move. She smiled at him. “That was awesome. How do you see them so wel?”

  “Experience.” The corners of his eyes crinkled. “I enjoy sharing my forest.”

  “I don’t know how to thank you.” Maybe she should make him a pie or—

  “A leannan, it’s done like this.” One finger tilted her chin up, and he brushed his lips across hers. Firm yet velvety soft.


  Just the slightest lingering. He’d moved back and stepped completely off the porch before she had a chance to panic.

  He gave her his slow smile. “That’s how a female thanks a He gave her his slow smile. “That’s how a female thanks a male.” He turned and strode away.

  Pressing a hand to her tingling lips, she tried to summon the wilpower to cal him a pompous jerk. She couldn’t. Deep inside her, heat flickered to life—something she’d never felt before.

  Chapter Seven

  On Sunday, four nights after the Gathering, Shay walked into the Wild Hunt for the Cosantir’s meeting. The tavern was already noisy with shifters seated at tables and lined along the wals.

  Late. He scowled over his shoulder at Zeb. The antisocial mongrel had staled, hoping Shay would go without him.

  In front of his bar, Calum talked with people at the nearest tables. After nodding at the few people he’d already met, Shay chose an unobtrusive position in the rear. As cahirs, he and Zeb were much larger than other males, and only werebears liked being stared at.

  “If I could have your attention.” When Calum’s quiet voice cut across the conversations like fangs through a soft rabbit, people stiled. “After the deaths of Chris Anderson and people stiled. “After the deaths of Chris Anderson and Nancy Ming, I requested two more cahirs for our territory.” He nodded toward the back. “Daonain, welcome Seamus O’Donnel, known as Shay, and Zebulon Damron, known as Zeb. Both wolves.”

  After the applause and welcoming cals ended, the Cosantir continued. “It’s not common knowledge, but they’ve each kiled more helhounds than any other cahir.” We have? After the first few, he’d lost count.

  “They know their business,” Calum said. “That business is what they wil discuss tonight.”

  Zeb grunted like someone had hit him. “Fuck.”

  “Shay.” Calum’s gaze targeted him. “Tel the Daonain about helhounds. Assume we know nothing. Better you sound patronizing than we miss vital information.” As Shay straightened, Zeb said under his breath, “Better you than me.”

  Shay shrugged. He didn’t mind talking, but where should he start? “Fae shapeshifters and humans interbred creating us, the Daonain.