Rogue Wolf (22 page)

“Good answer.” Mason nodded. “Really good answer. All right you have my support.”

“And mine.” The new arrival approached from downwind. Salvatore pinpointed the newly arrived threat.

“Ryan,” Mason half-growled.

Recognizing the name, Salvatore shifted his position so he could keep both males in his line of sight. A movement on his periphery revealed Giovanni moving closer. Salvatore shook his head once and his Centurion withdrew. He could handle both if necessary.

“I was curious about the wolf everyone is talking about,” Ryan continued forward and extended his hand. “Ryan Huston.”

“Mason’s father-in-law.” Salvatore accepted the extended greeting. “And the wolf who saved Margo’s life.”

The other man inclined his head. He was a few years shy of Salvatore’s age, perhaps a tad older. Wisdom and cunning twined together in his eyes. “You could say that. She’s a good girl. You take care of her. Or I’ll cut out your liver.”

“You have my word.” Unlike Mason, this wolf had a vested interest in Margo. He’d aided her when she was too young to defend herself. Salvatore would accept the warning from him.

“He’s serious, and he’s not above a sucker punch.” The helpful advice on the part of Mason sounded as though it came from experience. Both men laughed, then Mason focused on Salvatore. “And your question was?”

He flicked a look at the other wolf, then Mason and raised his eyebrows.

“Ryan’s fine. He’s really good at keeping what he hears to himself. I trust him.”

Accepting Mason’s endorsement, Salvatore considered his question. “The Enforcers are worried about the missing wolves raising a sixth pack.” Both men facing him went still. “Why are there only five packs in the United States?” Europe had many more—some small, others larger. Salvatore held all of Italy, though he made his home in the Seven Hills, the smaller packs across the country swore to him, their local Alphas more like Lords of City-States with he as the Emperor. It worked for them. Yet, more packs existed beyond their borders and Europe did not hold half the territory of the U.S. So why so few packs?

“You want to answer that question?” Mason nodded to Ryan. “You probably understand the underlying decision making better than I.”

Unbuttoning his suit jacket, the older wolf looked thoughtful. “Pack wars were pretty common about a hundred and fifty years ago. They still happen, fewer now than then, because the five strongest packs emerged and united the smaller packs. Buffer zones were created so no two territories verged on each other, the idea being the distance of land and space eliminated skirmishes. The Alphas at that time also tasked the Enforcers. They were initially comprised of displaced wolves, too dominant to follow the new packs and uninterested in compromise. So we have unclaimed territory where Lone Wolves can live along with the Enforcers. The Enforcers protect the packs by hunting the rogues and keeping everyone honest. If war breaks out between two packs, the Enforcers will not fight for either side, but will remove the innocents.”

Intrigued, Salvatore frowned. “How does this establish only five and no more?”

“Because to form a sixth pack would break the covenants of the treaties which keep the five packs somewhat peaceful. It would upset the balance of power—and wolves don’t always respond to change well.”

Yes, Salvatore could see that.

“We had an issue with it right after World War II.” Ryan continued, and Mason blinked. Surprise rippled in his scent. Apparently he didn’t know the story. “A lot of wolves served in the wars and, when they came home, some weren’t willing to fall back into pack structures. More, we had an influx of immigrants. Like drew to like and they attempted to form a sixth.”

“What happened to them?” He had to ask, even though he suspected the answer.

“They were executed, every last one of them. They broke the law, formed an alliance, and none would be welcomed back to their packs or any pack for that matter. A decision made by the Alphas jointly and carried out by the Enforcers.”

Margo had tried to warn him. If Luciana was involved in the formation of a sixth pack, their laws had already tried and sentenced her to death. Yet the Enforcers had all said she would be given to him. Were they attempting to placate him?

“Luciana isn’t our wolf,” Mason said. “She’s yours. In this much, I can tell you that I would never vote to execute her. If you make that decision, it is yours. The others involved? They belong to us.”

For the first time since he began the journey, he considered what would happen if he didn’t find Luciana. Or if he did, and if he learned all that had happened had been her choice…what would he do?

“Speaking of missing wolves,” Ryan said into the silence. “I’ve found them, or at least their money.”

Salvatore and Mason both focused on the other. “Where?” Mason asked.

“Western Nebraska. They’ve been moving it, but they opened an account there and transferred money from a bank in the islands. I’m pretty sure that’s Kirk. He was always good with finances, but he didn’t consider what would happen if we could track his money to the numbered account.”

Western Nebraska, where the Enforcers had gone to verify.

So, they’d found them.

A door slammed behind him, and he caught Margo’s scent. She strode toward them. He adjusted his stance, keeping between Mason and his mate and waited for her.

“They’re there.” She said without preamble. “In Nebraska.”

They’d found them.

Mason gave him an almost sympathetic look, then looked at Margo. “The humans are to be untouched. I want my five sent back to me in one piece.”

At his side, Margo nodded. Glancing at her, his gaze zeroed in on the fresh marks on her neck—bruises she hadn’t possessed earlier. Violence expanded in his chest, then her hand closed over Salvatore’s. When she threaded their fingers together, his wolf’s agitation eased and he suppressed a shudder of relief. She wasn’t pulling away from him. Whatever the hell happened next, he had Margo.

He was keeping her.

And he just might be killing Julian.

Not two hours later, he sat in the cockpit next to Margo as she navigated the plane. The flight would take a little under 90 minutes to put them in range of the wolves.  Behind them, seated in the puddle jumper as she called it were his four Centurions. The other Enforcers awaited them—Salvatore agreed to their presence and vetoed Julian’s. Mason, true to his word, backed him on the decision. Julian appointed Margo in his stead.

“You can fly a plane,” he mused aloud, enjoying the discovery of a new facet to his mate’s skills.

“I can cook, clean and fire multiple weapons. I’m pretty damn good with knives and I’ve even used a sword once or twice. If necessary, I can fix most issues with my car, unless it’s the computer. What can you do?” Ah, the bite in her tone had returned. Salvatore considered the control panel in front of him. Margo radiated confidence from the moment she’d taken her seat.

“I speak twelve languages, handle finance for a multi-national corporation, and grow the most exquisite wine.”

“You meant it when you said you own a vineyard?” Her question amused him. A snicker escaped one of the men behind him, and he spared them a mild look. Silence reigned immediately, though Giovanni’s eyes glittered with amusement.

“Yes, I meant it.” Returning his attention to his mate, he let his gaze drift to her neck. Despite the shirt she’d chosen, he could still make out the livid marks gradually taking shape as fingers. “I own several, the pack owns several more. My mother runs my family vineyard, however, I have been known to decide what wines we will select from year to year.”

“I suppose now would be a bad time to tell you I’m a beer woman.”

Giovanni broke the silence with a laugh, and soon the other three joined in. Salvatore grinned at the impudent look on Margo’s face. “Then I shall just have to educate you. You have a wonderful tongue, I have no doubt you will pick it up quickly.”

Her desire scented the air and Salvatore relaxed further. Yes, his mate wanted to tease and play with him. He had no objections to that at all.

“I am not the world’s best student. I tend to be stubborn and want to do it my way.”

“Oh, I am aware. How did that work out for you this last time? Did we do it your way or mine, hmm?”

Heat scorched her eyes as she flicked an irritated look at him and the sweet scent of her deepened. Oh, she definitely knew the answer and, if they weren’t several thousand miles above the earth, he’d remind her rather firmly. “You don’t get to win every fight.”

“Oh trust me,
bella
, I have no worries about what I win or what I lose where you are concerned. You have the advantage in every way.” His Centurions went silent at that declaration. One by one the men began to clap, and Margo glanced over her shoulder at them.

“What the hell?”

“They are applauding my choice of a mate,
bella
.” Yes, he claimed her publicly to these chosen few and they understood exactly why. Whether she’d agreed or not, his pack would stand between her and harm.

Embarrassment occluded her scent, but rather than apologize for her discomfort Salvatore reached across the narrow opening separating them and caressed her cheek.

“You are worthy of being shown off, Margo, and I want everyone to know you are mine—and that I am yours.” The last was more important than the first. “I have no qualms about sharing. I am proud of you, enamored of you, and I love you. Very much.”

She jerked and gave him a wild-eyed look. “Are you insane?”

“About you? Yes,
bella mia
. Very much so.”

Her growl vibrated against his fingers. “You don’t declare how much you love someone when they are piloting a plane!” Despite her irritation, she maintained altitude admirably. The burst of masculine laughter in the back reminded her of their audience. She gave them a dirty look, then added. “Especially when they can’t crawl over into your lap and fuck you sideways as a thank you.”

His cock stiffened at the offer and his men shut up. “Perhaps you have a point…”

“Too late, buddy. No nookie thank you for you. You’ve blown that chance.” Her grin took the sting from the words, but he scowled nonetheless.

“So now you will withhold favors because I said so in the plane?”

“Maybe,” she winked. “Maybe you’ll have to use that talented tongue of yours to persuade me otherwise.”

“I do believe that was a challenge,” he mused.

“You did say you spoke twelve languages,” she grinned. “I hope lust is one of them.”

“Oh, where you are concerned? I will become a linguistic expert.”

She shuddered, then shook her head and smacked his hand. “No touchie. Fly now. Touch later.”

Giovanni didn’t bother swallowing his laughter, and when Salvatore raised his eyebrow at him the impudent Centurion put a hand over his heart and mouthed the words though he did not say them aloud. “On my honor, I will protect her.”

One by one the others offered similar oaths, and Salvatore relaxed further. They were flying into an uncertain meeting, and potential battle. His men understood his desire—no matter what else happened—they would protect Margo. His mate.

His empress. He’d run alone a long time, and he would countenance losing her to nothing.

Chapter Thirteen

They landed at a small municipal airport. Fortunately, Ryan had pulled some strings so they had a crew waiting to refuel and take care of the plane. Nelson, Hadley and the others were waiting with four SUVs. Like a rock on the shore being pounded from all sides, Salvatore seemed unmoved but Margo sensed the agitation beneath his skin. She could only imagine how difficult the next few hours would be for him.

Pausing outside the plane, she rose on her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to his lips. He went still, then smiled and cupped her face. “I’m all right,
bella mia
.”

“I know, but I have an idea that I need you to agree to before we get this show on the road.” She chose to have the conversation away from the other Enforcers. For the first time in her life, she was torn between divided loyalties.

With a glance, Salvatore sent the four wolves with them in four different directions. They ranged out, providing a barrier of sorts to the others. No one would approach them. “What is it you think I will not like doing?”

Damn, the wolf knew her well. Squaring her shoulders, she tried to ignore the ache and lingering weakness. She’d eaten a considerable amount, showered, and even had Salvatore share his strength with her—but for what came next she needed to stand on her own. Her power had to be what she relied on, and only hers. She already carried too much of Salvatore’s scent. “We’ve identified where the wolves have gathered. It’s a small town about two hours from here. We’re going to drive in. They have to know the Enforcers are coming. Our arrival, it’s anticipated.”

No Lone Wolf would expect otherwise. They’d worked too hard to disguise what they were doing in an effort to coalesce their forces in one place.

“Most Rogues,” she said, having learned from so many hunts. “They run. They keep running and they keep their head down. They know we’re coming, the longer they can stay away, the longer they live. They only stop when they’re ready to fight.”

Salvatore frowned.

“These Rogues are different. They’ve been planning from the beginning, organized from the beginning…they know what they’re doing. Which means our usual methods won’t work. If we don’t want a very bloody outcome, we need to talk to them.
I
need to talk to them. Several of the missing are my wolves. They will know me, and they know no matter how much of a hard ass I am, I tend to be fair.”

“And my sister?” His concern for Luciana did him credit, but if Julian was right—Luciana was the lynchpin.

Pressing her hand to his chest, she reveled in the steadiness of his heartbeat. His age and length of leadership should have worried her on some level. The power he possessed reflected in his actions, his discipline, and the way his wolves responded to them. Hell, she had no innate desire to submit to anyone, but with Salvatore—she wanted the submission, craved it. Maybe when their task was over they could figure it out. Until then, she wasn’t his mate.