The Werewolf’s Bride: The Pack Rules #1 (10 page)

“Grey,” I said, opening my eyes. “Did Neela report the scruffer being loose in Bleed City?”

“She was busy arranging the enforcer protection for the Choosing,” said Grey. “Kelt is the one who told us.”

“How did he know?”

“He was running training exercises that night. One of his recruits caught the scent.”

“Oh, my God.” I sat straight up and grabbed my mate by the shoulders. “We have to go back, Grey. Right now.”

“What? Why?”

“Kelt,” I said urgently. “He was working with Rick. He kidnapped Cody. But Cody escaped before they could implement their plan. Kelt was tracking him, but I got to Mr. Sanders’ house first.”

“Turn around,” barked Grey. “Get back to the cabin as fast as you can.”

The driver executed a U-turn and stomped on the accelerator. We raced back up the mountain.

“Why do you think Kelt helped Rick?”

“Kelt is the only who could’ve kidnapped Cody and kept him under the radar in Shadow Pack territory. He trains the enforcers. Their loyalty is to him. This was about starting a pack war, Grey. They were going to kill Cody anyway and lay his death at your door. Karen doesn’t sound like the brightest bulb in the box, and Rick was a master manipulator. He knew exactly how to make her rage implode.”

Grey frowned. “But you killed her mate. Goddamn it. That made the whole thing work better. They kill you, and I’m out for blood, too.”

“Kelt knows it’s only a matter of time before you figure things out. He’s going to make a move.”

“Colt’s in danger.” Grey slammed a hand against the passenger seat headrest. “Faster, damn it.”

The driver increased speed, tires squealing as he took the wide turns. Grey settled me beside him, and we put on our seatbelts. I held his hand tightly, holding on to the slim hope that we would not be too late.

W
E ARRIVED
AT
the cabin where I’d been held captive less than an hour before. I must admit that I felt reluctant to leave the safety of the car, no matter how thin such protection might be against enemy werewolves.

Grey kissed me—a quick, soft meeting of the lips—and the gesture bolstered my courage. I followed him out of the Mercedes, and he clasped my hand as we walked around the car. We paused, both of us studying the cabin. Despite Grey’s protective presence, I shivered with trepidation.

Too dark.

Too still.

Too empty.

In the pit of my belly, foreboding beat like a dying man’s heart.

The driver of our car exited. He looked around, hyper-alert as he scanned the area. He stripped off his tie and jacket and put the items on the Mercedes’ hood. My mouth dropped open as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Sam! Do not shift in front of my bride,” snapped Grey. “Start your search in the woods. Let me know if you catch anyone’s scent.”

Sam glanced at me, his expression one of chagrin. “My apologies,” he said. Then he strode into the trees just a few feet away.

Werewolves didn’t have the same hang-ups that humans did about nakedness. They were perfectly comfortable in both their forms. It would probably take me a while to get used to their unabashed attitudes, so I was grateful for Grey’s intervention with Sam’s impromptu striptease. I must admit, however, that I very much admired Grey’s naked form—and looked forward to seeing him in his birthday suit again.

“Do you think Colt’s in the cabin?” I asked. While I had not known Grey’s brother for very long, I liked him. He’d been kind and funny and protective. I was terrified we would find his murdered body.

“There’s only one way to find out, Arabelle.” Grey lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my knuckles. He let go of me, took a few steps forward, lifted his head, and sniffed at the air.

He started running.

Still in my torn and dirty blue silk nightgown—and barefoot as well— I ran, too. The gravel bit into the soles of my feet, but I didn’t care.

Other than being born a shifter, I could have no deeper connection to the Shadow Pack than being married to the alpha. To be worthy of that honor, I had to be brave. I had to face every situation head-on, no matter how scared or awful I felt inside.

Please don’t be dead, Colt.

I could only surmise that Grey sensed no danger nor had he detected active werewolves nearby because he bounded onto the porch and flung open the door to the cabin.

I followed him inside.

The only light came from a lamp that had fallen onto its side. The bulb flickered, its sickly electric pulse the only sound in the hideous quiet. The evidence of a knock-down, drag-out fight was obvious, even in the dimly lit space.

Near the hearth lay two large carcasses. I recognized the werewolves that had accompanied Kelt and Grey during my rescue. Given the amount of blood and the gaping wounds in their necks and bellies, it was obvious they were dead. Rick’s corpse was covered with debris caused by the raucous battle.

My human eyes were decidedly weak compared to the alpha’s preternatural vision. It took a few moments for my eyesight to adjust to the inky interior. Grey surveyed the room, and then pointed. “There.” He hurried to the shadowed corner on the right side of the kitchenette, and I followed closely, heart climbing into my throat.

A massive wolf with gold-brown fur lay on the floor. Blood matted his beautiful coat, and though I could see his chest moving with breath, with life…it was a jagged, uncertain stuttering.

“Grey,” I said, all my hope and worry contained in his name.

The alpha knelt next to his brother and examined him. “He’s weak. He won’t be able to shift.” He looked up at me, and I saw his fears for Colt. Beneath that familial anxiety, though, I saw terrible fury. I had no doubt that Kelt—and any foolish soul who stood with him—would feel the full wrath of the Shadow Pack’s alpha.

“It’ll take too long to get him to a Shadow Pack healer.” I could tell Grey was trying to keep his voice strong, his manner steady. Yet, the dread of losing his brother, his best friend, could not be hidden entirely.

“Can you carry him to the car?” I asked. “We’ll take him to the nearest vet.”

“What?”

“We can’t haul him into a hospital and announce he’s a wounded shifter. Unless there’s a shifter healer nearby?”

He shook his head. “The Blood Pack is the closest werewolf community and they wouldn’t help even if we were on good terms. They’re a bunch of scruffer assholes. Besides, they don’t have healers.”

“Sir.”

We looked over our shoulders and saw Sam standing in the cabin’s doorway, buttoning up his shirt. “There’s no one out there. They must’ve left in cars because I didn’t catch any scents around the cabin. Is that Colt?”

“Yeah. He’s bad,” said Grey. “Call the compound. Tell them to batten down the hatches. If Kelt shows up there, I want him taken and imprisoned—him and every single one of his followers.”

Sam nodded and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. Our only sentinel turned and faced the outdoors, no doubt continually scanning for any signs of unfriendly shifters.

“Do you think Kelt has enforcers on alert at the compound?” I whispered. “He seems to be the prepared type.”

“If it was me, that’s what I would do. He’s taking advantage of the Choosing. He knew I would be distracted, and he knew the compound’s security would be stretched thin. Humans and werewolves attend the celebrations hosted by families welcoming new brides. Damn it! He must’ve been planning this coup for months.” Grey blew out a frustrated breath. “Kelt is cold, ruthless, and organized. It’s why he made a good enforcer.”

“And no doubt why he believes he’ll make a good alpha,” I said.

“The hell he will.” The furious passion infused into Grey’s words created within me a deep sense of pride. I believed in Grey, and in what he could accomplish as the alpha. Yes, I was proud to be his, though we were certainly experiencing a trial by fire on our first day as a married couple.

“Do you think Neela is involved?” I asked. “She was the enforcer leader. She could’ve ensured Kelt had the time and space needed to put his plan into action.”

“I don’t know,” he said. “My gut says she isn’t, but ten minutes ago, I would’ve said the same thing about Kelt.”

I couldn’t imagine the depth of betrayal Grey felt at this moment. The closest I could get was the spiraling sense of grief and shock when I learned of my sister’s suicide. Her death had been a betrayal, too. But even though my sister had forsaken her own life and shifted the course of mine, what Kelt had done to Grey, to the Shadow Pack, was far, far worse.

“Sir. No one’s answering at the compound. I can’t get hold of the Betas or anyone else I’ve tried, including my own mother.”

“He’s taken it then.” Grey’s handsome face shifted, and for the barest moment, I saw silvery-gray fur, long snout, animal eyes, bared teeth. He slammed his fist on the ground, and the wolf disappeared. “Fuck!”

I grabbed Grey’s shoulder. “Who do we trust?”

“Good question. Right now, the only three people I trust are in this room with me and one of ‘em is near death.” He scooped Colt into his arms and stood up. “Let’s get him to the vet. Then we’ll decide what to do next.”

Sam led the way out of the cabin. Halfway to the car, I remembered Colt’s sword. I knew instinctively that he wouldn’t want to be without it. A sword seemed a unique weapon, one that was an extension of personality as well as armament. I whirled around and ran back toward the cabin.

“Arabelle!”

“One minute!”

I shoved through the door, adrenaline and fear twining around my heart like choking vines. My heart squeezed and squeezed as I kicked away debris and dug through shredded furniture and bloodied cushions. I hated being in this room with its bad memories and dreadful carnage. I rummaged near the hearth, peering through what used to be the couch when I caught a dull gleam by one of the dead werewolves.

Lodged beneath the large carcass was Colt’s sword. Colt must’ve killed them with his blade before shifting into a werewolf. He would’ve been attacked by what … three werewolves? Four? If Sara was part of the plot, Kelt had probably released her so she could help kill Colt.

I saw the black scabbard discarded near the bed. That was probably where Colt had transformed—and by the state of the tattered clothes nearby, he’d transformed quickly.

I tucked the scabbard under my arm. Then I grabbed the sword’s handle and lifted it. The blade was lighter than I had assumed and I managed to carry it upright, like I was holding a flag. When I got to the car, Sam took the sword and its leather holder from me. The back door was opened, and Grey waited patiently, holding tightly to the wounded werewolf.

I scurried inside. Grey bent down, and with me holding Colt’s massive shoulders and scooting backwards, we managed to get the huge wolf somewhat settled onto the leather seat. His big head rested in my lap. His breathing was so ragged, I worried every shuddering breath could be his last.

Sam put the sword and scabbard in the trunk, and then he and Grey got into the front. Within seconds, we were flying down the mountain, tires squealing, and Grey cursing.

I clutched at Colt and prayed.

“
G
OTTA LOVE VEGAS
,”
said Grey as we pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour veterinary emergency clinic. “Sam, get the car gassed up and meet us back here. We’re going straight to Bleed City after we get Colt taken care of.”

With my help, Grey wrestled Colt out of the car. I felt utterly ridiculous striding into the clinic clad only in a dirty silk nightie, my arms and legs bruised from the battering my body had taken over the last couple of days. I could only imagine the state of my hair.

A woman in pink scrubs stood behind the glass check-in counter. She was tall and lithe, her skin the color of cinnamon-flecked cream. Her blonde hair was done up in a French braid. I felt like I was looking at the Swiss Miss featured on those hot chocolate packets. When she saw us, she didn’t blink. It was Las Vegas, after all, the city of the strange and unusual.

“What’s the story?” she asked. She stood up and studied the three of us. I wondered where a woman in a soiled nightgown and a man carrying an oversized injured wolf fell on her scale of weird.

Grey looked at me, his expression one of panic.

“We’re on our honeymoon,” I blurted. “We have a cabin up at Mount Charleston. We heard … um, noises outside.”

“I went to investigate,” added Grey. “I found him. He’s got some cuts, and I think he’s lost a lot of blood.”

She lifted a blonde brow. “I see.” She reached under the counter, and we heard a buzzing sound. “Let’s go to exam room three.”

G
REY PUT COLT
onto the metal examination table. Swiss Miss slid on a pair of plastic gloves.

“You’re the doctor?” asked Grey.

“Yes. My name’s Lisa Pearson. I know he’s a shifter,” she said as she began examining his wounds. “You want to tell me what really happened?”

“He got into a fight,” said Grey.

Lisa snorted and rolled her eyes. “You werewolves give a new definition to ‘succinct.’ He’s got bites from fangs and slashes from claws. What’d the other guy look like?”

“Like he was dead,” said Grey.

“Hmm.”

“Are you a shifter, too?” I asked. As a citizen of Bleed City, werewolves were par for the course. While I knew there were other shifter species, I had never met another kind.

Lisa nodded. “Werebear. You’re lucky you got me instead of the other vet. He’s a human, and he would’ve called animal control. Beck’s a rulebook nerd.” She jerked her head toward the wolf. “So, what’s his name?”

“Colt. He’s my brother,” said Grey. “We’re Shadow Pack. I’m Grey Burke, the alpha.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “This is my wife, Arabelle.”

“Good to meet you.” Lisa stepped back, her gloves now bloody and her expression grim. “I’ll need to take X-rays. He appears to have some broken ribs. You were right—he’s lost a lot of blood. He might have some internal bleeding. He definitely needs stitches, and he probably needs surgery.”

“I can give you blood for a transfusion,” said Grey.

“Good. I’ll call in one of my nurses—she only lives a few minutes away. And she’s a werefox, so you don’t need to worry about her discretion.”

Werebears. Werefoxes. Werewolves. How many other kinds of shifters existed? I supposed it was a question for another day, when we weren’t fighting for our lives.

After the werefox nurse, who was small-boned and had ginger hair, arrived and took blood from Grey, she went to prep Colt for X-rays and then surgery.

“There’s not a lot you can do for him,” said Lisa as she led us back to the small lobby. “It’s probably best to go home. I’ll call you when I’m done stitching him back together.”

“Will he be okay?” I asked.

“Shifters have amazing regenerative abilities. But sitting here and worrying about him won’t help at all.”

“I can’t leave him alone,” said Grey. “He’s not safe.”

“Look, if you guys are in trouble—”

“Nothing we can’t handle,” interrupted Grey smoothly. “It’s pack business.”

Lisa considered Grey for a long moment then she nodded as if she’d made a decision. “My brothers are werebears, and they have a bodyguard business,” she said. “Pearson Security. They’re really good at protecting people—and shifters.”

“They’re hired,” said Grey. “I want Colt to have someone guarding him twenty-four-seven.”

Lisa made a phone call and within minutes she returned to the lobby. “Gabe’s coming himself. He’s the oldest, and he’s a bad ass.” She paused. “Don’t tell him I said that. I try not to encourage the growth of his already sizeable ego. Even so, trust me. No one who isn’t me or the nurse will get near Colt—at least not with their arms still intact.”

“Excellent.” Grey reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He removed a credit card. “For your services and that of your brother’s. Keep it. Give Colt everything he needs.” He handed her his business card next. “You can reach me at this number.”