Crave the Night (2 page)

Were they drugged? Bespelled? Hot, prickling
rage crawled up Rafe’s neck, followed by the sticky paws of fear.
“What the . . . ?”

Darak gripped his arm hard enough to bruise.
“We found your kin. Now let’s get out of fairyland. We’ll go back
to town and muster the cavalry.”

Rafe gripped the window frame. “I need more
information.”

With a heave, he vaulted over the sill, his
boots landing softly on the tile floor. In truth, he needed to know
if his father was safe. Using his nose and ears as much as his
eyes, he scanned the room, making a sweep with his weapon. With an
impatient noise, the vampire joined him inside the house.

Rafe examined each slumbering face. These
were the missing Pack members, and he knew them all. Some looked
peaceful, others frowned, as if their dreams troubled them. Rafe
approached the nearest bed, recognizing the owner of the ranch next
door to his father’s. He gently shook the man’s shoulder, but he
didn’t awaken. Rafe moved to the next bed and tried again with no
result. Rafe exchanged a long look with Darak, fury climbing in his
veins.

The large bed at the end of the room had
been reserved for the Alpha. His father, white-haired but still
strong and hale, lay there like a Viking king on his bier.
Stern-faced, his fingers curled into claws, as if he were battling
his enemy even in his dreams.

Rafe went arctic with anger. “Dad!”

His mind flipped into a white haze, pushing
away what he didn’t want to feel. Instead, he sought facts. He
holstered his weapon and then checked his father’s skin
temperature. It was warm and dry. His pulse was slow, but steady
and firm.

Darak was at his side. “So let’s figure out
a way to save him. All of them.”

Rafe gripped his father’s shoulder,
shaking him, but the slow breathing didn’t change. An ache of
frustration caught in his throat, tearing through that protective
haze.
Wake up!
Rafe made a
sound that wasn’t a cry or a word but had something of
both.

Darak touched his arm, surprisingly gentle.
“Think about it. As long as your father’s asleep, you’re the
Alpha.”

And that meant he was responsible for
everyone. A tremor ran through him, tension breaking like a wave.
He had to be smart. Reluctantly, Rafe relaxed his grip on his
father’s shoulder, his fingers releasing one at a time. “How can we
get eight unconscious people down the hill to the truck without
being noticed?”

“
Eight deadweight bodies? Even for us,
it’ll take a few trips. Someone’s bound to see us.”

Rafe’s first impulse was to reject the
truth, but he choked it down until it burned in his gut. He’d never
left his men behind. Leaving his father was impossible. And yet, it
had to be done, at least for an hour or two. Then they’d bring back
half the county and rain hurt on whoever ran this place. He turned
to Darak, unfinished business bitter as ash on his tongue. “Then
the faster we go, the faster we can get back here and kick some fey
ass.”

“
Why wait?” came a light
voice.

Rafe spun on his heel, a snarl escaping him.
The woman from the kitchen was in the doorway, the glass of ice
water poised in one hand.

He’d caught a glimpse of her before.
Now his gaze could linger on every curve of her features. She was
exquisite. Stunning. As his awe welled up, he shoved it aside,
stomping out his kindling lust.
That
beauty is a trick. A poison
.

A slow smile curled her lips. “Smart wolf.
Give him a cookie.”

He reached for the Beretta, but it was
gone.

“
My servants disarmed you both,” the
woman said. “It’s impolite to carry when you go
visiting.”

Rafe swore and checked the room for
gun-toting hostiles. There was no one there.

Darak fumbled with his empty holster. “What
servants?”

“
Oh, you can’t see them, but they’re
everywhere. And trust me, this way is better. They’re not pleasant
viewing.” She held up Darak’s Smith and Wesson, dangling it between
the thumb and forefinger of her free hand. Fey didn’t like holding
anything involving iron more tightly than they had to. “Looking for
this, vampire?”

“
May a diseased zombie suppurate in
your martini.”

The woman gave a long, slow blink, sipping
pointedly from her water. “Well, okay then. I think we’ve set the
tone for the night.”

She stood aside to let two men into the
room. They were broad-shouldered, deep-chested werewolves burnt
bronze by the sun—the kind of hard workers Wolf Creek had aplenty.
Rafe recognized them as a pair of the hands from down at Bearpaw
Ranch. “Tom, Wyatt, what’re you doing here?”

Neither answered, as if Rafe didn’t count.
Both cautiously approached Darak, the heels of their boots clicking
on the floor. Big as the two yahoos were, the vampire made them
look like Cowboy Ken dolls. Darak cast Rafe an exasperated glance.
“Seriously? I have to bash puppies?”

“
Bugger this.” Rafe’s temper slipped.
His people were in trouble. His
father
was in trouble. Why weren’t these two
stretched out in beds number nine and ten?

Because they’re
traitors
. The thought oozed through him, slippery and
hideous as a slug.

“
Back off, boys,” Rafe said, his voice
flat with anger. They didn’t have weapons that he could see. Then
again, neither did he—anymore.

They continued to ignore Rafe, their
attention fully on the vampire.

“
We know what he’s doing here,” Tom
indicated Rafe with a jerk of his thumb.

“
But what’s a vampire doing in our
territory?” Wyatt said angrily.

Thinking about pulling
your head off, you doorknob.
Rafe spun Wyatt around.
“Never mind him. Talk to me.”

“
But Miss Lila wants to
know!”

Lila
. The
name hung in the air, uttered like an invocation. As he said it,
Wyatt’s eyes grew vibrant with devotion. Then, he turned back to
Darak with single-minded purpose.

Rafe’s stomach flopped.
He’s under her influence
.
He might as well be drugged
. Rafe
grabbed Wyatt by the collar, hauling him backward hard enough that
his feet left the floor. “I said, back off.”

He cast a quick glance at the woman—Lila—but
she just sipped her water and looked on with the mild interest of
someone watching a wildlife documentary. The cool look ignited his
temper, making him jerk Wyatt that much harder.

“
Hey!” The wolf pulled free and
wheeled around, breaking Rafe’s grip with a sweep of his arm. “What
makes you think you can come in here and….”

Rafe caught a glimpse of Wyatt’s fist just
as it swooped toward his temple. Instinct took over. Rafe ducked,
driving his shoulder into Wyatt’s middle. He heard the breath leave
his opponent’s body in a whoosh, then the thump of flesh as Wyatt’s
back hit the wall. Wyatt swore, writhing to get away.

Rafe let out a wolfish snarl. “I am your
next Alpha. Pay attention when I speak.”

Pain sliced through him as a fist pounded
into his kidneys. It was Tom, attacking from behind. Eyes watering,
Rafe sidestepped and spun, using the momentum to deliver a clean
cross to Tom’s jaw. Tom fell into Darak’s waiting arms and was
lifted clear off the floor.

“
Naughty, naughty,” said the vampire
in softly evil tones.

Apparently, the diversion was all that Wyatt
needed. He launched himself at Rafe, fingernails lengthening into
claws. A slash to Rafe’s cheek drew blood. He roared in fury. Rafe
grabbed his shirt and pulled Wyatt close, limiting his ability to
strike.

Hot blood trickled down his face like tears.
He could see the gleam of Wyatt’s eyes, the lift of his chin as he
sniffed the blood. Pulling claws like that was dirty pool, and Rafe
saw guilt in the nervous twitch of Wyatt’s jaw.

“
You really shouldn’t have done that,”
Rafe snarled.

Sweat gleamed on Wyatt’s high forehead. “I
didn’t have a choice.”

“
You always have choices, even if some
of them suck.”

He backed up just enough to flip Wyatt
around and smash his head into the wall. Wyatt slumped to the
ground like a deboned chicken.

Tom was already unconscious. Although every
second had stretched like taffy, the fight was over in a flash.

Lila cleared her throat. “Alpha, you
said?”

Rafe rounded on her, temper loosening his
tongue. “I am Rafe Devries. In the absence of my father, I’m in
charge. Whatever you’re up to, Pack Devries will fight back.”

Instinct drove him to stand between his
people and the beautiful enemy. The sight of her still moved him,
even if the wolf inside knew they were on the brink of a fight to
the death.

Her luminous green eyes narrowed slightly,
but he couldn’t tell if it was amusement or annoyance. He could
smell her fear, but she was hiding it well.

She didn’t spare a glance for the men on the
floor. “So far all you’ve proved is that your automatic response to
aggression is aggression. That makes my job easy, because I know
exactly how you’ll react to everything I do and say.”

He filed that bit information, not letting
it distract. He was in battle mode, every sense alert. He could
still feel the pull of her presence, as if every atom of her body
were calling to his. She took a step forward, and he felt her focus
on him, pushing at the barrier of his will. Her skin looked so
soft, like she might melt in his hands. Desire settled in his
belly, fogging the reasons why he shouldn’t do whatever she asked.
Desire turned to heat, heat to something feral. Rafe’s need for her
incinerated his reason, leaving it burnt wisps of ash.

Or would have, except for the need to
protect the Pack. That alone remained solid though every other
rational idea deserted him. Rafe took a long, shuddering breath,
fighting the urge to kneel before her, leap on her, worship her,
grind into her. It was like clawing free of a python that crushed
his lungs, except this one attacked his will.

Good thing he was one stubborn cuss. When
her hold on him finally slipped, there was an almost audible snap
in the air. Rafe staggered back, breathing hard. With a bolt of
satisfaction, he saw her flinch, too.

She’s a trickster.
Beautiful, but evil. Remember the pickle fork.
He
chanted the words to himself a few times, using them like a
talisman.
Pickle fork. Pickle
fork.

“
What do you want?” he snapped. “Let’s
get this over with.”

Her eyes flared, her expression uncertain.
No doubt the failure of her spell made her nervous. Still, her
voice was calm. “To acquire Wolf Creek for my employers. They want
it cleared of residents.”

He flicked a burst of fury aside, refusing
to react. “We homesteaded that land. It’s our territory.”

Suddenly the choice of hostages made sense.
Every one of the sleepers owned a big parcel of land.

Her cold expression didn’t change. “It won’t
be yours for long. Not if you want your loved ones to wake.”

Rafe had been braced for those words, but
hearing them still made the blood rush in his ears. He barely
crossed glances with Darak, and the two of them surged toward her,
using speed faster than a human eye could track.

He grabbed one of her arms, forcing her to
her knees. Darak grabbed her other wrist and wrenched his gun away.
Her glass hit the carpet, ice cubes tumbling out to glisten against
the thick white pile. Water stained a dark patch in the knee of her
jeans. A noise escaped her, half cry, almost a laugh. Rafe grabbed
a fistful of her thick, pale hair, holding her as gently as he
could without letting her stir an inch.

Darak pressed the muzzle of his gun to her
temple.

“
What did you do to my people?” Rafe
snarled. “What’s keeping them asleep?”

“
Wouldn’t you like to know?” she
taunted. “Not that you could hope to understand the technical
points of a soporific spell.”

“
Are all fey this snotty?”

She didn’t reply. A booming sound resonated
in the house. Rafe stiffened, his heart speeding faster. “What the
hell was that?”

The booming sound repeated, coming closer,
and closer again. Rafe figured out what it was. Doors closing. No
doubt every door in the house. Were Lila’s invisible servants
sealing them in?

“
That is the sound of your
incarceration,” she said. “Not that I need more hostages. I’ve
taken eight of your Pack for my own. A six-Pack would have been
amusing. The mounting numbers are just getting
tiresome.”

Darak pressed the muzzle a fraction deeper
into her temple. “Time to rethink, Tinker Bell.”

The front door slammed, followed by the
sound of metal bolts sliding home. “I think I have all the cards,”
Lila said coolly. “You’re going to surrender to me.”

Rafe caught a whiff of something burning.
Darak grunted in surprise and dropped his weapon to the floor. It
sizzled, blackening the white carpet. Steam hissed as the red-hot
metal touched an ice cube. The vampire cursed in a language older
than the Crusades.

The next instant Lila seemed to melt from
Rafe’s hands. One moment she was firmly in his grasp. A second
later she simply—wasn’t. She was on the other side of the room, her
hands clenched into fists.

Electricity rippled through the room,
raising the fine hairs on Rafe’s arms and leaving the faint smell
of ozone behind. A moment later, the two felled wolves rose to
their feet, heads lolling and eyes shut. A shudder rippled along
Rafe’s skin. Their movements were too fluid, too boneless. They
looked as if someone were behind them, lifting them like rag dolls
and shaking their limbs into place.
Those damned servants again
.