The Dark-Hunters (656 page)

He winced as old memories tore through him.

Even though they hadn’t been mates, Stephanie had been his entire world.

And she’d died in his arms from a brutal attack.

That memory shattered the heat in his blood and brought him back to reality with a fierce reminder of how dangerous their existence was. It was why that jackal was lucky to be alive. The one thing Fang couldn’t stomach was to see a woman threatened, never mind harmed.

Any creature cowardly enough to prey on a woman deserved the most brutal death imaginable. And if it was delivered to him by Fang’s hand, then all the better.

Shrugging his jacket on, he picked up his plate and returned to eating.

Once he was finished, he took the dishes to Dev who thanked him again for saving Aimee.

“You know, for a wolf, you don’t really stink.”

Fang snorted. “And for a bear you don’t chafe my ass.”

Dev laughed good-naturedly. “You going back inside?”

“No. I’d rather stay out and freeze my ass off.”

“I hear ya. I like it better outside myself. Too human in there for me.”

Fang inclined his head, surprised that the bear understood. Anya had made him human enough, he didn’t want any more housebreaking than that. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he headed back to the bikes to wait.

*   *   *

Aimee went outside at Dev’s insistent grumblings that kept coming in through the earpiece she wore—all the staff wore them so that the Were-Hunters could appear more human whenever they used their powers to communicate with each other.

“What?” she snapped in the doorway.

He held out an empty plate and beer bottle.

“Oh.” She stepped forward to take them from his grasp. Unbidden, her gaze went to Fang who was again sitting on the ground with his legs bent and his arms draped over them while he leaned against an old hitching post.

There was something very feral and masculine about that pose. Something about it that made her heart quicken.

He’s not the same species, girl.…

Yet it didn’t matter to her hormones. Gorgeous was gorgeous, regardless of breed or type.

Yeah, that was what she was reacting to. It was nothing more than the fact he was an exceptional specimen of male physiology.

“Something wrong?”

She blinked and looked at Dev who was watching her. “No, why?”

“I dunno. You have this dopey kind of expression that I’ve never seen from you before.”

She made a sound of abrupt disgust. “I don’t look dopey.”

He snorted. “Yes, you do. Get to a mirror and check it. It’s really scary. I definitely wouldn’t let Maman see that.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “This from a bear who got his ass kicked by a jackal?”

His eyes flared. “I was preoccupied by the knife at your throat.”

She gave an exaggerated laugh. “You were on the ground and pinned before I was held.”

He started to argue, then stopped. He looked around as if afraid someone might have overheard her. “You think anyone else remembers that part?”

“Depends.” She gave him a calculating stare. “How much you gonna pay me to back
your
version?”

His look turned charming and sweet. “I pay you in love, precious little sister. Always.”

She scoffed at his offer. “Love don’t pay the rent, baby. Only cold hard cash.”

He gaped, his expression one of total offense as he held his hand over his heart as if she’d wounded him. “You really turning mercenary on your favorite older brother?”

“No. I would never do that to Alain.”

“Ouch!” Dev shook his hand as if he’d burned it. “Bearswan got ’tude.”

Laughing, she stepped out to give him a quick hug. “Don’t worry, big bro, your secret’s safe with me so long as you don’t annoy me too much.”

He tightened his arms around her and held her close. “You know I love you, sis.”

“I love you too.” And she did. In spite of their disagreements and quarrels, her family meant everything to her. Stepping away, she turned to glance one last time at Fang. Most likely she’d never see him again. A common occurrence, really, for their clientele, and yet for some reason this time that thought hurt deep inside her.

I have lost what three brain cells I have.… Bear, get your butt back to work and forget about him.

*   *   *

Fang stood up as he saw the pack leaving the bar. Vane was the first to reach him.

“Here.” Vane tossed him his backpack, then handed him a bag of something sweet and rich. “The bearswan wanted to make sure you got that for Anya. She said there was something in there for you too.”

That shocked him completely. No one ever gave him gifts. “For me?”

Vane shrugged. “I don’t understand bear thought processes. Most days I barely understand ours.”

Fang had to give him that—he didn’t understand it either. He tucked the sack into his backpack as the rest of the wolves took up their bikes and headed out. They were silent the entire way back to the bayou where they’d made camp for their females to deliver their pups in peace and protection.

As soon as they’d returned, their father met them in his wolf form. Markus shifted into a human just to sneer at them.

“What took you women so long to return?”

As Fang opened his mouth to smart off, Vane shot him a warning glare. “I toured the clinic and have the contact information should any of our females require help.”

Markus curled his lip. Even though he’d sent them there, he had to be an asshole. “In my day we let the wolfswans incapable of birthing our young die.”

Fang snorted. “Then it’s a good thing we’re in the twenty-first century and not the Dark Ages, isn’t it?”

Vane shook his head while their father growled at him as if about to attack.

This time Fang refused to back down. “Try it, old man,” he said, using a term he knew infuriated his father since Katagaria despised their human natures. “And I’ll rip out your throat and usher in a new age of leadership to this pack.”

He could see the desire in Markus’s eyes to press the issue, but his sire wolf knew what he did. In a fight, Fang would win.

His father wasn’t the same wolf who’d killed his own brother to be Regis of their pack. He was weak with age and knew that he didn’t have many more years left before either Fang or Vane took over.

One way or another.

Fang preferred it to be over the old man’s dead body. But other arrangements would work for him too.

It was another reason their sire hated them. He knew his prime was past and they were only coming into their own.

Markus narrowed his gaze threateningly. “One day, whelp, you’re going to cross me and your brother won’t be here to stop me from killing you. When that day comes, you better pray for salvation.”

Fang’s look turned evil. “I don’t need salvation. There’s not a wolf here I couldn’t wipe my ass on. You know it. I know it and most important, they
all
know it.”

Vane arched a brow at his comment as if taunting him to prove those words.

Fang gave him a lopsided grin. “You don’t count, brother. I think more of you than to even try.”

Markus raked them with a repugnant twist to his lips. “You both sicken me.”

Fang snorted. “It’s what I live for … Father.” He couldn’t resist using the title he knew made the old fart seethe. “Your eternal disgust succors me like mother’s milk.”

Markus turned back into a wolf and bounded off.

Vane turned on him. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Piss off everyone you come into contact with? Just once, couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?”

Fang shrugged. “It’s a skill.”

“Well, it’s one I wish you’d unlearn.”

Fang let out an irritated breath at the constant bitch-topic that had grown old three hundred years ago. He wasn’t the kind of wolf to suck it up. Rather he gave as good as he got, and most times he gave better. “Against the grain is the only way. Stop being such an old woman.” He turned and headed for the edge of camp where Anya had chosen to den with her mate Orian.

Fang always had to bite his tongue around them. He hated the wolfswain the Fates had picked for his sister. She deserved so much better than that half-wit, but unfortunately, that wasn’t in their hands. The Fates chose their partners and they could either submit or the male would live out his life completely impotent, the woman infertile.

To save their species, most accepted whatever abysmal mate the Fates assigned them. In the case of his parents, his mother had refused and now his father was left impotent and perpetually pissed off.

Not that Fang blamed the old man for that. He’d probably be insufferable too if he had to go centuries without sex. But that was the only part of his father he understood. The rest of the wolf was a complete mystery to him.

Luckily Anya’s mate wasn’t with his sister. Anya was lying down on the grass in the fading sunlight, her eyes barely open as a light breeze stirred her soft white fur. Her belly was swollen and he could see her pups moving inside her.

It was pretty much gross, but he wouldn’t insult her by telling her that.

“You’re back.”

He smiled at her soft voice in his head. “We are and…” He held the bag out toward her.

She sat up immediately and trotted over to him.
“What did you bring?”
She nosed at the sack as if trying to see through it with her snout.

Fang sat down and opened the sack to see what Aimee had given them. The moment he did, his heart quickened. She’d thrown in two steaks, baklava, beignets, and cookies. There was also a small note in the bottom.

He dug out the cookies and held them for Anya while he read Aimee’s flowing cursive.

I really appreciate what you did and I hope your sister enjoys her food. Brothers like you should always be treasured. Anytime you need a steak, you know where we are.

He didn’t understand why such a short, innocuous note touched him, but it did. He couldn’t help smiling at it as an image of her drifted through his mind.

Stop being a head case.

Yeah, something was definitely wrong with him. Maybe he needed to see one of those pet psychics or something. Or maybe have Vane give him a sharp kick to the hindquarters.

“Do I smell bear?”

He tucked the note into his pocket. “It’s from the Sanctuary staff.”

She shook her head and sneezed on the ground.
“Gah, could they stink any worse?”

Fang had to disagree. He didn’t smell bear, he only smelled Aimee and it was a delectable scent. “They probably think the same about us.”

Anya paused to look up at him.
“What did you say?”

Fang cleared his throat as he realized how out of character it was for him to defend another species. “Nothing.”

She licked his fingers as he held out more cookies for her.

A shadow fell over them. Looking up, he saw Vane standing there with a stern frown.

“Shouldn’t it be her mate doing that for her?”

Fang shrugged. “He was always a selfish asshole.”

Anya nipped hard at his fingers.
“Careful, brother, that’s the sire of my pups you’re talking about.”

Fang scoffed at her protective tone. “One chosen by a trio of psycho bitches who—
ow!
” He jumped as Anya sank her teeth deep into the fleshy part of his hand. He cursed as he saw the blood dripping from the wound she’d given him.

She narrowed her gaze.
“Again, he’s my mate and you will respect him.”

Vane cocked him on the back of his head. “Boy, don’t you ever learn?”

Fang bit his lip to keep from snapping at both of them. He hated how they treated him like their mentally defective distant relation. As if his opinions didn’t matter. Anytime he opened his mouth, one of them told him to shut it.

Honestly, he was more than tired of their treatment. All they saw him as was the muscle they needed. A loaded gun to be used against their enemies. The rest of the time, they wanted him kept in a box, completely silent and unobtrusive.

Whatever.

Changing into a wolf, he left them before he said something they’d all regret.

But one day …

One day he was going to let them know just how tired he was of being their omega wolf.

*   *   *

Aimee paused at the table where the wolves had been. In the corner was a pair of discarded sunglasses. She bent down and picked them up only to catch a whiff of the owner.

Fang.

A slight smile hovered at the edges of her lips as she remembered the way he’d looked leaning back in his chair. Relaxed and lethal.

“What’s that?”

She jumped as Wren spoke right behind her. Looking at him over her shoulder, she smiled at the young tigard. Handsome and lean, he had long blond dreadlocks with bangs that fell across his eyes, shielding them from the world. She was one of the very few people he ever spoke to.

She held up the sunglasses so that he could see. “One of the wolves left them.”

He scratched at his whiskered cheek. “You want me to put them in lost and found?”

“It’s okay. I’ll do it.”

He nodded before he moved on to bus another table.

Aimee closed her eyes and held the sunglasses tight. As she did so, she saw a perfect image of Fang in wolf form running through the swamp.

Someone sneezed.

She jerked, looking around quickly in fear of someone catching her using a power that no one knew she held. It was something only the most powerful of Aristi could wield and the fact that she had it …

It was as much a danger to her as a gift.

And it was a power that had cost two of her brothers their lives. For that reason alone, she could never allow anyone to know what she could do.

But today those powers weren’t scary. They would allow her to find Fang and return his property to him. She checked the watch on her wrist.

In thirty minutes she’d be free to take a break and then she’d find the wolf.…

*   *   *

Aimee paused next to the cypress tree that jutted out of the water and twisted up toward the sky. The setting sun fanned around the branches, casting a majestic glow as it also reflected the cypress against the rippling black water. It was eerie and beautiful. Haunting.