Black Wolf (Black Wolf Series Book 1), page 7
Chapter Nine
Lathan watched the black convertible tear out of the parking lot and tried to get control of his emotions. Letting Emmeline take Grace away was bullshit, but he hadn’t seen any other workable options. There was no way he could’ve convinced Grace to stay with him, and sending her off with someone else gave him the time he needed to arrange things with Diesel.
Speaking of which…
Diesel always picked up on the first or second ring. Years of being on call for UNITY had ground that practice into him.
“Yeah?” Diesel answered.
“We’ve got a problem,” Lathan said, heading back to his car.
“I heard,” Diesel replied.
“News travels fast. Who’s your source?”
“Ren.” Diesel responded in a tight voice—he already knew Lathan was going to have something to say about that. “He said they’ve gotten things under control and Grace’s parents are safe. I’ve already got a call in to Her Royal Fucking Highness. I should never have retired. I hate being out of the Fate-forsaken loop.”
“Shit.” Lathan set his jaw. “Fucking Ren,” he added for good measure.
“Don’t be too pissed at him. He’s the one who saved the day.”
“Because he wasn’t around to keep Grace safe,” Lathan spat.
“He can answer to that, I’m sure. There’s more news. I’ll share it with you later.” He hesitated, which was unusual for Diesel. “When you get home, you might want to take a run. Things are going to get serious.”
“Noted.”
“Where’s Grace now?” Diesel asked, the hard edge returning to his voice.
“With that friend of hers, Emmeline Lawrence.” Lathan sighed, again thinking how much it sucked that he wasn’t the one protecting her. “That Lawrence woman is a she-beast.”
Diesel coughed a dry, grunt-like laugh. “Noted.” He echoed Lathan.
“It would make me feel better if we had a detail on them while I’m zoned out. Can you get Riley and Thorne on it?”
“One step ahead of you there. We’ve got what we need to make it happen.” Diesel was always at the ready. “Be safe coming home. We’ll see you soon.”
Lathan gave the steering wheel an earful all the way back to the house. He explained to it everything that had gone wrong at that cursed cafe. When he reached the driveway, the steering wheel was so worn out from hearing him gripe that he almost didn’t get it to cooperate as he guided the car down the gravel path—or maybe that was his hands. Why were they shaking so much?
He put the car in park and swore one or two or twenty times for good measure before he opened the door. Diesel had been right—his wolf was demanding some control. He hated to waste the time, but it was going to mean bad news later if he didn’t let the change happen. He ditched the casual clothes he’d picked out so carefully—an idea that now seemed completely ridiculous—and let the late afternoon sun beat down on his naked back.
“Lathan’s back.” Thorne passed through the open doorway with his arm elbow-deep in an enormous bag of chips. “Fueling up before we go on guard duty for your mate,” he explained.
“You know what to do?” Lathan realized he hadn’t eaten yet when his stomach growled out a wish for chips of its own.
“We’ve got it under control.” Thorne handed the chips over. “Good thing you’ve had us keeping tabs on the locals.”
Lathan nodded his thanks and dug into the greasy goodness. “I just need a little time to get a shift out of my system.”
“Good idea.” Riley was hustling down the front steps, toting an over-stuffed black tactical bag. He tossed it in the trunk of his Mustang before peering over at the chips in Lathan’s hand. “Dammit, Thorne. Those were supposed to be field rations, you know.”
Thorne cocked his head at the trunk. “Like that bag you brought out isn’t full of snacks?”
“Yeah, but that was the only bag we had left of the cheddar ones,” Riley lamented.
“I’m not giving them back,” Lathan said, still crunching. “How much food do you need for a few hours, anyway?”.
“You can never tell. Whatever, man. We’ll starve to death while we creep on your female.” Riley sighed dramatically.
Lathan tipped his head back to empty the chip bag, then crumpled it in his hand.
“I’ll take it,” Riley offered. “I’ve still got to get the gear Diesel’s packing.”
“Don’t let him put all that rope in there this time,” Thorne grumbled. “He’s always on about the fucking rope.”
“Thanks, guys,” Lathan said over his shoulder as he stepped off the driveway and onto the soft grass.
Closing his eyes, he gave his wolf time to approach. On days when he maintained total human control for so long, the creature got a little lazy. It hibernated in the back of his brain, only popping its head up to offer input when absolutely necessary—like that possessive, protective feeling he had always gotten around Grace. Shut it, he told his mind, not needing any more reminders of the earlier encounter.
At that thought, though, his wolf emerged. It was just in time, too; Lathan needed a break. The symbiotic relationship between his human nature and his wolf nature was something he valued as an adult, especially as an alpha. Sometimes the weight of the world could be lifted by letting his wolf take over.
He bowed his head and relished the sensation as the warmth spread over his body, filling him with light. Skin and bone and hair morphed and shifted as he went to all fours. When he brought his head back up, he was looking at the world through the eyes of his wolf.
He embraced the exchange.
Thanks to his years of rigorous training, the transition was pretty damn bearable these days. That hadn’t been the case when he’d been a younger wolf. When he had first imprinted on Grace, the change had been violently painful and his immature wolf had been prone to aggression and disobedience. That was one of the reasons he’d wanted her gone. His changes had grown increasingly worse until they had become completely unpredictable and terrifyingly uncontrollable.
It wasn’t unusual that his wolf would want to come out in the presence of his mate—that was instinct. Wolves were normally deeply respectful and loving toward their mates, but his particular wolf frightened him—he worried that his wolf wouldn’t understand Grace’s importance. If the creature harmed her, he would never have been able to forgive himself.
Only those closest to him had his wolf’s respect, and that had been hard-earned.
Lathan despised hearing stories from other shifters of the way they’d come to be with their mates. Tales of casual approach that ended happily. Wolves curling up under the stars, resting their heads in their mates’ laps. Winning peace and contentment in knowing they had found the one. Claiming proposals and mating ceremonies—and their mates’ first changes.
All the things he never allowed himself to dream about.
Not that it was the kind of sentimental thing an alpha was supposed to be into—but Lathan didn’t care. In the brief time he’d been able to spend with Grace, he’d felt certain that she was going to change his life. He’d held on to that belief for all these years, even in the moments when he had prayed to Fate that she would never cross his path again.
Enough, he reminded his brain.
He tried to shut down and let the wolf do its thing as he looked out across the expanse of land that surrounded him. He stood proud and surveyed the buildings that his family had raised and maintained for many years. The crowning glory was the main house he and his brothers had restored, remodeled, and resized to fit them all; it was a giant leap up from the bunkhouse around back they’d shared as kids. There were other buildings, too—the ones he couldn’t see from this vantage: the smaller cabins around the lake that they were working on one by one.
His wolf snorted, hunched into his strong muscles, and launched into a blazing run. Lathan stopped thinking and let the movement take him over.
On four legs, he easily tore up the distance across their land. He raced through the open field, zigging around this path, zagging over the next. He scented a rabbit and followed its trail, but stopped before that got too intense. His wolf thought rabbit shit made great cologne, but he thought his wolf was an idiot for that one.
He ran until his lungs burned and his legs ached and his heart raced. Then he circled back around to the lake and collapsed on his side, sprawling in the tall, soft grass. He listened to the gentle lapping of the water as the fish and frogs and water bugs moved nearby, while he flicked his tail lazily at a grasshopper.
For the time being, life was easy. His wolf spirit encouraged him to shut down the human element of his brain completely, and he accepted the offer. He closed his eyes and dozed off in the shining sun.
As he slept, he dreamed of running through a moonlit field with another black wolf. She was sleek and wild and he was overwhelmed as he watched her leap and chase. Every time she leapt, fire erupted from the ground and became fireflies as it spread out over the sky. The more they appeared, the more she bounded, thrilling at the number of them. His wolf went to hers and romped with her among the twinkling lights. They played until they tired, and then they lay down in the cool grass, curling around each other until no one could tell them apart.
Lathan woke with a start, still in wolf form. Night had fallen and as he stretched, there was only one thought on his mind.
He needed to get to Grace right away.
Something in the atmosphere had changed. He sniffed at the air. There was nothing unusual in the scent, and he didn’t see or hear anything out of the ordinary. No, this was the kind of change you felt in your gut. Fate was telling him something and he was smart enough to listen. He gave his muscles one last shake, then began the quick trip back to the house.
A tackle from the left side took him completely by surprise. He jumped up, landing in a defensive position with teeth bared and saliva dripping. His recovery had been faster than that of the creature who had plowed into him, but his instincts returned more slowly.
“Dammit, Lathan.” Diesel’s voice came from a tangle of tall weeds several yards ahead.
Lathan’s wolf stepped back, breathing heavily as he sent a message to Lathan that it was time to take back the reins. He shifted and crossed the grass, even as his body remolded, to reach a hand down and help Diesel up.
The male was still rubbing his neck as he stretched upright.
“Sorry for the sneak attack.” He cursed, rolling his left arm forward and back in its socket. “But I’ve been trying to get you moving for an hour. Every time I got close, your wolf went insane.”
A shiver ran down Lathan’s spine. “What?”
“Yeah, it was like you weren’t even in there anymore. I’ve never seen you like that—even at your worst.”
Lathan tried to think back. He didn’t recall any interruptions during his nap—he didn’t remember anything from the time he’d shifted at the house to now, though.
“Fuck,” he whispered, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me?”
“Am I ever kidding anyone?” Diesel’s reply was as dry as always.
Point taken.
Diesel was an excellent Second wolf. He was fiercely loyal, unflinchingly strong, and had a seriousness that allowed him to lead easily when he needed to step in for Lathan. The younger wolves listened to him and obeyed in ways most Seconds would find hard to accomplish.
“We’ve got an appointment with the Magistrate first thing in the morning,” Diesel said, crossing his arms as he did when he was in business mode—which was all of the time.
Lathan looked his way as they started to cross the field in human form. Since their wolves couldn’t speak, and it seemed like a conversation was happening whether Lathan wanted it or not, this was the way it had to be. Diesel’s eyes were straight ahead, trained on the main house.
On a regular night, rooms on both floors would have been lit. Thorne, done with work for the day, would have retreated upstairs to the room he had turned into his studio. He was always up there painting or sketching or who the hell knew what. The fact was, nothing he did ever left that room. The sketches and designs he drew at his drafting table downstairs? They all got to see those. But the only glimpses they got of his masterpieces upstairs were ones they caught if they had to go in to speak with him, and he typically covered those up before he allowed them entry.
Lathan didn’t have much of an eye for that kind of art, but the slivers of things he’d seen there always evoked something in him—something a little sad.
Riley, on the other hand, would be downstairs in the game room. His game room, really, since none of the rest of them got into video games like he did. When there wasn’t something important going on in the evenings, he retired to that room, threw on a bright orange headset, and shouted wildly to other players around the world as he clicked and tapped his way through his current game of choice.
“The Magistrate.” Lathan set his jaw as he considered how the meeting would go. Known more intimately to those close to her as Thalia Wells, the Magistrate was the grand matriarch of the wolf race—their veritable queen of queens. She was also their family’s closest friend and ally, and had been since long before Lathan or any of his siblings had walked the face of the planet.
She would have answers about Grace’s family—Thalia had eyes and ears everywhere. She also just so happened to be the direct link between Fate and the wolf race.
“She’ll want to speak with you about Grace,” Diesel said. He didn’t ask, because there was no question, and he wasn’t prying; he merely wanted to be up to speed on how Lathan planned to manage that topic of conversation.
“No surprise.” Lathan shrugged, not sure yet how he was going to manage it. “I’ll have some questions of my own for her, though. Starting with what the hell happened to Grace’s parents. There hasn’t been any disquiet recently among the Races and Breeds. Why would a couple of scientists be on anyone’s radar?”
He realized it could have been far less sinister than that—they spent their days in labs all over the place. Maybe there had been something minor, like a chemical spill.
Right, because they would have needed his brother’s help with a mop?
“I might have some insight,” Diesel said gravely, his words stopping Lathan right where he stood.
“I caught a vampire’s scent on the Dawes land while I was on guard this afternoon.”
Lathan cursed. “So that was the big news?”
“Would have been bigger, if your woman was going to be headed back there to stay.” Diesel shrugged.
Damn, Lathan wished his pack would stop referring to Grace as his anything. Truth was, she wasn’t, and likely never would be.
“Want to take a stab at why a vampire would have a sudden interest in them?” Diesel asked pointedly.
Lathan cursed again. “Money for intel.”
Diesel’s eyebrows popped in agreement as he gazed across the dark land. “The members of the R & B know them, of course. All the work they’ve done to produce medicines and enhancers hasn’t gone unnoticed. But they’re not the only scientists we’ve got. I’m not sure what would make them so important.”
“Besides their connection to me?”
Diesel nodded, as if to say, “Obviously.”
Lathan let his head fall back, wanting to curse again, but feeling like he’d already used up the best words he knew. “Grace has no clue about her parents, that’s clear. Aveleiyn did a clean job of removing the memories. What about UNITY? Were there any special projects while you were in that they could be working on now? Maybe something classified?”
Diesel’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and then he said a few bad words Lathan noted for future use. His brother turned to look at him for a moment. His expression was unreadable—Diesel would have been one hell of a poker player. But Lathan thought he caught a flash of something on Diesel’s face. Was it guilt?
They had reached the driveway, where Lathan could plainly see the pile of clothes he had left was long gone.
“Riley put them inside before he took off,” Diesel explained, following Lathan’s gaze.
Ah, yes, the mother hen. Riley was all male, all the time, but he took pride in caring for the pack. It was a role he and Reegan, his twin, shared when she was around. When their only sister was gone, as she had been for too long, Riley flourished in that capacity on his own.
They headed up the front walkway together, over Lathan’s long-forgotten stone repair project and into the open living room, so expansive that they had nicknamed it the great hall.
“We’re going to need that meeting with the Magistrate,” Diesel muttered. “Let’s make contact with Grace and give her the report.”
“Get ahold of Riley and Thorne. Let them know we’ll take over,” Lathan said. “I’ve got to get my eyes on her again. You and I will take the night watch.”
“You don’t want to call her first?” Diesel offered.
Lathan grabbed his folded clothes from the end table and began yanking them on. “I don’t need to. I’ll know where to find her.”
Chapter Ten
Grace sighed and shifted the small takeout box to her other hand. A quick glance through the window of the pizza place showed her that Em was still flirting with the shaggy-haired guy at the counter. Grace had to wonder if he was Em’s type or if she was working an angle for free breadsticks.
People moved up and down the sidewalk, chatting and laughing, and it seemed so quaint that Grace heard Em’s words again. “You could stay.”
She huffed out a breath and turned to lean her shoulder against the brick exterior of the restaurant. She was giving Em two more minutes before she marched in there and—
Lathan Black was sauntering down the sidewalk looking all kinds of self-assured and imposing. There was a man whose appearance was almost equally as commanding tramping shoulder-to-shoulder in unison with Lathan.
