Ride the Wicked Woodsman (A Night Falls Alpha Werebear Shapeshifter Romance) Page 10

For the first time in almost a week, I slept in the big bed all alone. I didn't try to draw him back to the bed. I stayed under the quilt, lonely without even the moon to keep me company, and prepared for the good-bye I knew was coming.

  ********************

  The rumble of Braeden's motorcycle across the gravel clearing startled me awake the next morning. I sat up, looked for Taron and didn't see him. If he was in the cabin, he wasn't even breathing.

  Looking out the window, I saw him already in the clearing, hands on his hips as Braeden pulled his bike to a stop, but left the engine idling. The two men leaned toward one another, their heads tilted in such a fashion that I could see their lips moving but couldn't hope to make out any of the words they shaped.

  Fucking men -- I had no doubt that Braeden had left the engine idling to keep their conversation quiet, just as they had white noise running in the private room at the club house.

  I swung my legs off the bed and opened the enormous wardrobe that held my clothes alongside Taron's. Not giving a shit that I was visible through the curtains to both men, I stripped off the night shirt I had worn to bed and shimmied into my jeans, strapped my breasts into a bra and pulled a sweater on. Two yanks and I had my boots on and was striding toward the cabin door.

  Their heads swiveled my way when I stepped onto the porch. Whatever their conversation was about, it ended the second I stuck my head through the door.

  Braeden gave Taron a look brimming with meaning then gave me a short nod of good-bye -- not a hint in his expression of the hell he had brought with him.

  "Pack a bag," Taron growled, heading inside. "We're going to the club house."

  Mute, I followed him inside and did as ordered. I had purchased another money belt that had a smaller profile and was more waterproof. I slid it on while Taron disappeared into the kitchen, the money already secured inside.

  Hearing the unexpected slide of a pistol chamber, I stepped into the kitchen to find Taron tucking a Glock 20 into a padded holster hooked to the back of his jeans. The bottom of one pant leg rested just above the top of his boot, another holstered gun tucked inside the footwear. Finished securing the Glock, he reached down and fixed his jeans.

  "Is that necessary?"

  "You tell me," he answered, straightening, his face grimmer than I had ever seen it. "Does your pack carry weapons?"

  I didn't understand the question, not at first after almost a week of him telling me the Woodsmen were my pack now.

  "You mean my father's pack," I clarified after a few more seconds, the nod of his head stabbing deep into my chest.

  "Yeah," I said as his phone sounded with incoming texts.

  "More than just pistols," I added as he thumbed through the messages he had just received. "Shotguns, rifles, semi-automatic rifles."

  Holding his phone up, Taron closed the distance between us. He showed me the screen and slowly thumbed through a dozen photos as I named the men pictured. There was my father, Ruben, Eric by his side. Theo, my father's second. A dozen more males from my father's pack. Constantine, who oversaw the smallest of the prides in Champaign, and Marcus, who led the largest wolf pack in the city, plus several of their men. All told, there were some thirty men, many I couldn't identify but with at least one male in each picture that I knew by sight if not by name.

  From what I had learned about the Night Falls pack, there were twice as many shifters, but many of them were children and women. Or as apex predators like to call them -- prey.

  Taron grabbed me by the arm. "We need to get moving."

  We rode the bike to the club house, Taron's body so tense it felt like I had my arms wrapped around granite. The club house when we got there was locked up tight -- the windows shuttered from the inside.

  My father must have had eyes on the building because it was less than three minutes after we were safely inside when a black sedan pulled into the parking lot, Theo driving, my dad beside him and Constantine and Marcus in the back.

  Only my father got out of the car.

  He held his hands up, showing they were empty but I knew where to look for the telltale silhouette of his handgun and saw that he was packing.

  "You've got my daughter in there," he shouted. "I want to talk to her."

  I took a step toward the barred door. Taron locked his hand around my arm and jerked me back, gaze blazing with heat.

  "You stole from him," he said, starting with the least of my crimes.

  I patted the money belt hiding under my shirt. "Got it all right here with interest."

  "You broke pack law in leaving."

  I shrugged as well as I could manage with his grip like iron around my elbow.

  "And you broke it again with me."

  I had to smile at that one. "Several times a day as I recall."

  "This isn't a joke, Onyx," he growled. "You know the penalty he can impose as your pack leader."

  "Yeah," I acknowledged without naming that penalty to him or the larger room. They all knew from the packs they or their parents had left.

  I was facing a death decree.

  "I'll talk to him," Taron said, trying to pass me off to Braeden.

  Taking Braeden by surprise, I released a pulse of energy that brought the alpha wolf to his knees as he tried to keep me from following after his boss. A collective gasp ghosted across the room, causing Taron to turn back.

  "That was me pushing softly," I warned Braeden. "Are you going to push back?"

  I had just shamefully sucker punched him and knew he could have answered with a blast of his own. I didn't want to go up against his disciplined alpha energy any more than I wanted to take on Taron, but I was going to fight until I was out cold or dead.

  I couldn't keep Taron from going out there, but I damn well wasn't letting him go alone.

  Braeden looked at his boss for guidance. The big bear answered with a slight shake of his head, giving him permission to back down and me permission to step outside.

  "Me first," I growled, slipping past Taron as Mojo began to unlock the door.

  Murmurs zipped around the room at my ordering their president out of my way. Taron's hand, a hand that could cover my entire face and still reach around the sides, landed heavy on the door.

  Yeah, I had just tried to put my man's macho ass behind me -- if he was still my man. After the prior night, I wasn't sure about that. But if there was an immediate penalty waiting outside for my running away, I planned on being the only one who paid up.

  "No point having two dead bodies," I joked, my voice dry.

  "I should lock you in the fucking basement with Clover," he said, grabbing me by the collar of my sweater and lifting me off my feet. Holding me like that, he nodded at Mojo.

  "Open the door."

  Mojo obeyed. Releasing me with a backwards fling that sent me stumbling a few feet, Taron slid out the door first. I half expected Mojo to lock me in, but Taron hadn't given the order.

  I stepped outside, my gaze ignoring both the big bear standing right in front of me like a living shield and the men from Champaign as I scanned the street and buildings around us.

  "Commerce building, east corner, second floor window," I whispered as I spotted one of the males in my pack.

  "Front window of the resale shop," he added.

  I looked left against and saw a tall blond male, one of the cats I hadn't recognized in the photos on Taron's phone.

  So there were at least six of them, probably all packing, with however many more lurking out of view.

  "I said my daughter," Ruben reminded us. "Not my daughter and whoever the fuck you are."

  "Onyx is in Night Falls under my protection."

  Ruben didn't answer, just stared at me as a change slowly came over his face. He tapped at the backseat window and Marcus slowly rolled it down. Looks, not words, passed between them and then Marcus broke the silence.

  "She's in heat."

  Yeah, I was in heat, the entire shifter population of Night Falls fucking knew that.


  But not my dad, not until I stepped outside and my scent reached him. If he had detected any trace of remaining from our arrival some six or seven minutes before, he had no reason to associate the smell with me after so many years of failed expectations.

  Ruben held up his hand, an imperial gesture for Taron and I to wait as he climbed into the sedan's front seat and Marcus rolled up the back window. I took the time to look over the buildings and street again.

  He had to be nearby -- Eric. Or maybe, after Eric had pitched a fit to come, good old dad had his precious boy safely holed up much as Taron had wanted to lock me in the basement. Considering brother dearest probably wanted to be the one to put a bullet in my brain, I was extremely relieved by his absence.

  Several minutes passed, the conversation in the car growing increasingly animated. Mostly it was Marcus and my dad, the two pack leaders. Constantine watched with an expression half amused, half bored, while Theo kept his gaze darting around the buildings just as Taron and I were doing.

  Finally, Ruben got out of the car again.

  "You're coming home, Onyx." His gaze shifted to Taron. "She won't be hurt and, if you surrender her quietly, no one in your pack will be harmed."

  As he spoke, he pulled a phone from his jacket and tossed it at Taron who caught it one handed. He hit the power button and a picture appeared on screen -- a red haired, gazelle like little girl being pushed on the swing by a pregnant woman.

  "Mojo's mate," Taron whispered and thumbed to another picture. This one I didn't need him to name.

  It was Clover.

  I started to walk past him. He put his hand against my stomach, the gentle force stopping me.

  "You've already made a deal to marry her off," he said, nodding at Marcus through the closed window. "To him?"

  "His son," Ruben answered, looking at me. "The grandson you give us will unite the two packs."

  "Selisma won't be happy," I snarked. She had been pledged to Marcus's son after her thirteenth birthday and was just two years away from his claiming her.

  "Things change. Selisma's not alpha, you are," Ruben answered. "What happened?"

  My lips danced with a string of snarky responses I didn't dare unleash when there were dozens of nervous fingers on as many triggers all around me. Above all the other smart ass replies, I wanted to tell him I'd been cured by bear cock -- a really big bear with a really big cock.

  "What would have happened a decade ago if you had tried to heal her," Taron answered for me. "You, those men hiding in the back seat, any other alpha in your city, male or female."

  "Do you have any idea how many shifters I can have covering these hills and horse shit valley before nightfall?" Ruben asked, clearly pissed that Taron had just called him out as both a lousy pack leader and an even worse father.

  "A couple hundred," I supplied. Neither Marcus nor Constantine would kick in all their soldiers, but between two packs and one pride, two hundred was pretty much a guaranteed minimum.

  "You'll bring them anyway," I said, edging around Taron who reached for me too late.

  He pulled me back to him, a question in his gaze. I took the phone and thumbed back to the very first picture, Mojo's daughter. Half elk, half coyote, her existence a bigger threat to my pack than I ever could have been.

  My father couldn't keep the smile from his lips. "If you come with me, I promise a full retreat of everyone we brought with us and seventy-two hours from our departure before any outside shifters enter the valley."

  He was offering them time to run and hide before the genocide began.

  "I'll retrieve her at your cabin at six tomorrow night. Talk it over," he offered. "Let the news travel among your pack. I know my daughter. She's as much an outsider here as she was at home. They'll hand her over to buy as much time as they can to save their own skins."

  Climbing back into the sedan, he offered a short salute before they drove off. Behind me, the club house door opened and Braeden stepped out, a question on his lips.

  "Did he just say what I think?"

  ********************

  After a few minutes of growls and snarls, Taron put a temporary end to the bickering among the shifters in the room with a roar as he pinned Joshua against the wall. He dropped the cougar to the ground, the harsh gold-brown gaze daring him to get back up.

  When Joshua remained with his ass on the floor, Taron turned to the rest of the room.

  "We've planned for this!"

  The air in the room shook with his voice, the vibrations only interrupted by the fall of his boots against the wood boards.

  "We were all outlaws before we ever put on this vest," he continued. "Some for who we choose to love or who our parents chose, others because they left their pack and struck out on their own. Even in respecting the right of those around us to live as they will, we are defying the laws of the packs and prides and herds into which we were born."

  He stopped pacing and let his gaze sweep across the faces turned toward him.

  "You are all free to leave Night Falls if you think you can survive on your own. Tonight we hold Church with all members of the pack at our safe place after sunset. If you come, you are with us until the end -- or I will kill you myself."

  No one said anything as they moved from where they were sitting or standing to the front door. Mojo unlocked it and let them out one-by-one, each shifter nervously checking that the street and parking lot were clear before leaving.

  Mojo left last, Braeden locking and barring the door after him. Taron shouldered the bag I'd brought and nodded at the two big doors behind which they held Church. Inside the private room, Braeden fiddled with an electronic box on the wall that had looked like no more than a programmable thermostat when I passed it. He pressed the temperature down button one last time and a camouflaged door opened next to me.

  After a small landing space, stairs led down into darkness and another door.

  "Is there more than just Clover down there?" I asked as Taron gestured for me to descend.

  "Yes."

  His face was a granite mask. His voice gave nothing away, either. Even his scent was hiding his feelings from me. But then he had never been very open this week.

  At the bottom of the landing, I reached for the handle but Clover pulled the door open first and wrapped me in a tight hug. When she let go, she threw eye darts at her brother.

  "Someone was being an alphahole and wouldn't let me come upstairs."

  "It wasn't pretty," I said, following her into the basement with Taron and her brother close on my heels. "Could you hear anything?"

  I doubted she did because she might not have hugged me at all if she had heard the males arguing over the shit storm I had brought with me from Illinois.

  Clover shook her head and pointed at the concrete ceiling above her head. "Used to be the city's Masonic temple and they put in a fallout basement during the cold war."

  Her bottom lip started sliding side-to-side before she released the question chewing to get out.

  "Is it bad? I know there are a bunch of strange shifters in town and they are all male -- which could be a she-wolf's day dream if some of them are hot."

  Nope, it was a she-wolf's nightmare -- my nightmare.

  "Braeden will fill you in," Taron interrupted. Grabbing me by the elbow, he walked me across to the opposite side of the basement.

  The builders had installed this wall in segments, unlike the three other walls. It seemed odd until Taron handed me my bag then braced his palms against one segment, planted one foot on the floor and the other against the bottom of the segment and began to push.

  I watched as the massive block of concrete slid inward to reveal a section in the next segment that had been carved out. The four of us slid through, Taron and Braeden almost crawling on their knees and Clover's overstuffed backpack leaving her helplessly wedged for a few seconds.

  "Go on ahead," Taron ordered his second as he slid the concrete block into place, plunging us into darkness. "We'll be a few minutes
behind."

  The space we stood in was as pitch black as I had ever experienced and I had no idea what waited ahead. My only hint that we weren't walled in alive was that I could feel a small flow of fresh air against my skin.

  Next to me, something snapped and a small band of green light appeared in Braeden's hand. His foot tapped at a box against the floor where there were more chem lights as he handed one off to his sister.

  She snapped hers then gave me one last hug. "Whatever it is, Taron will figure something out or I'll have my big brother beat his ass."

  His hand coming down on Clover's head to steer her forward, Braeden looked at his boss over his shoulder. "You know she's kidding, right? I mean you need to figure something out, but that last bit was a joke--"

  "Nope, not a joke," she chirped, her voice bouncing off the walls of what I could now tell was a downward sloping cave.

  They squabbled like siblings who fiercely loved one another as they disappeared deeper into the subterranean structure and we could no longer hear them.

  "Why are we waiting?" I asked, reaching into the box and scooping up two chem lights.

  I snapped one to find him rummaging around in his pockets. He came out with two small rectangular bars wrapped in cellophane. He passed one to me and took the light.

  "Eat. It's pure protein."

  "Yeah, in a second." I shoved the food into my pocket, snapped the remaining chem light then pulled the bar back out before remarking on the obvious. "You didn't answer my question."

  Taron settled onto an outcropping of the wall and unwrapped his snack. "They need time to discuss what's going on and decide on their priorities."

  For sweet-hearted Clover, I was pretty sure her priority was helping anyone she believed was good and who was in need. Braeden's priority would be protecting his little sister regardless of what his boss or the pack wanted -- or even what she wanted.

  I bit off a chunk of the protein bar and chewed, my senses too numb from the day's developments to taste what I was eating. I had hoped that he sent Clover and Braeden on ahead of us so we could talk, but he apparently had nothing to say.

  "Here," he said, tossing me something silvery.

  I caught it and couldn't hold back a small chuckle. It was a juice pouch, the kind parents pack kids off to school with.