Winter Howl (Sanctuary) (27 page)

“Fine,” Renee said. She tried to get out again, but he took her face in his hands and pressed his mouth to her cheek, licking the skin in front of her ear. She shivered, in spite of her layers and his warm body.

“Do you still hurt?” he asked in her ear.

“If I say yes, is that good?”

“Yes.”

She stroked his dark hair before touching his face. He pulled back from her and let her touch him. As he watched her, she dug her nails into his rough, prickling, unshaven jaw. “Of course I still hurt.”

He grabbed her hips and pulled her down from the seat, before pushing her against the outside of the truck and kissing her as though he hadn’t kissed her in weeks, rather than just hours. She kept her nails pressed into him, digging furrows under his facial hair—she knew that the last thing he wanted was for her to stop. He pressed against her existing bruises, but she still found her hips canting against his, trying to bring him closer even though there were layers of fabric between them that were not easily shed. Grant was shaking as he took a step back—not from fear or romantic notions. The muscles of his forearms were quivering with restraint.

“You’ll have your hands full with that one, girl,” said someone at the front of the truck. Somehow, twenty people had come to investigate without her hearing a step in the crisp, brown grass. Renee found herself tensing—not necessarily from self-consciousness, but because of the scrutiny. The people around the two of them practically vibrated with energy. Renee was not good around those kinds of people, especially in these numbers.

She broke away from Grant and got back into the car. Grant made as if to snatch her back, probably thinking that she was running. But all she did was kneel on the seat and reach over it for her bag. She took her Xanax out of the side pocket and downed one dry. The overwhelmingly bitter taste made her face twist. There wasn’t any water in the car, though, so she just kept swallowing as she turned around again and slid down the seat onto the ground.

Only to find that the werewolves were even closer, enclosing Grant and Renee in a semicircle around the truck. More than twenty, now that she could see them all up close together. Most of them could have been mistaken for members of an ordinary group visiting a national park for a weekend. Maybe a youth group or an environmentalist gathering or even an enthusiastic family reunion—
if
that group or family had been meeting in the early chill but sun-warmth of the fall rather than December like these people. Most of them were wearing short sleeves, some jeans, some shorts. Then there were a few here and there who would have stood out in any ordinary crowd. Some had already removed their clothing—others were in various stages of undress. There was more than one who was heavily scarred.

“I never thought I’d see the day when Grant, of all people, would bring walking meat to us,” said the alpha. At least, that was what Renee thought he was—he was positioned slightly in front of the others, given more prominence. Just looking at him, he did not seem particularly special. But then again, neither did Grant. It was what they could be—whatever power they had boiling under the surface—that was so important to the dynamic of the pack. Jake, for instance, was alpha over his pack as well as over the entire sanctuary compound, although he deferred to Renee in everything. Jake was mostly soft-spoken, and although he was a big man, it was not his size that made him a leader. It was a quality that was given to a few—the knowledge of what had to be done and the power to do it. The man before them had that.

“She’s not meat,” Grant said. He kept himself in front of her, his expression casual but the set of his shoulders tense. He was being defensive, but not deferential. Renee knew from experience that dogs—or wolves—who did not submit to their alphas were either ignored or kicked out. And Renee had the sense that execution was not unheard of among werewolf packs.

Her hand involuntarily reached out to touch Grant’s back.

The alpha’s nose flared and he moved forward, pushing through Grant’s space until he was too close for her to look directly at him. “Smells like meat to me,” he said. She could feel his breath ruffling her hair as his nose followed the path of Grant’s tongue. “And you. Do you think that marking the girl as yours is enough?”

“She’s mine,” Grant hissed.

“No,” Renee said. “I’m not.”

The alpha blinked. He was not surprised at what Renee had said. He was surprised at the tip of the knife she had aimed directly at his navel.

“You know you can’t kill me with that, girl,” the alpha said softly. He did not seem angry with her. Just a little intrigued.

“This conversation sounds familiar,” Renee replied.

Grant leaned against the truck and stroked Renee’s hair in something like pride. “It’s silver, David.”

David jerked back so fast that he almost stumbled. “You brought that into our pack?” he asked incredulously.

“Oh, stop your whining,” Grant said. “I’ve had that thing a hair’s breadth from poisoning my balls. And if you think you can get it away from her before she can gut you with it, do you want to take the chance that she’ll nick you?”

David gazed with new interest upon her. There was some muttering among the pack members, and Renee saw that most of them weren’t aggravated. Some of them were even trying to hide laughter behind their hands.

“If you want to walk freely with us,” David said, “you’re going to have to put that away.” It was as though he were talking to a small child, and Renee bristled. It was the same kind of patronising tone that Josh used, as though her maturity and intelligence were as defective as her social skills.

“Am I off the menu, then?” she asked.

“Honey,” David replied, “if you managed to get this one under control with that little thing, you can do whatever you want.”

When David relaxed, the atmosphere among the group changed dramatically, although they were still the most highly strung, intense people that Renee had ever met. Most of them broke away from the semicircle to join the others in the distance. A few stragglers stuck around, curious but not too invasive.

“She didn’t get me ‘under control’,” Grant said, as Renee tucked the knife back into her jeans.

“Hell, if she slowed you down, she deserves a medal. Isn’t that dangerous?” David asked, referring to where she’d put the knife.

“It hasn’t hurt me yet. And I don’t mind a little blood,” Renee said.

“It’s a commodity here,” David said. “I don’t recommend shedding it on these grounds.”

Renee did not respond, but she pulled her coat around her so that the knife was out of sight.

“Then let us get this out of the way now,” David said. “The bastard hasn’t changed, but you seem to be a decent sort of person. Which means that you’ll probably be horrified by things that happen out here. We have other humans with us. Not many, but some. They won’t be walking amongst us, with the exception of you and one other boy. He, like you, is a potential recruit. The rest are
food. Do you understand that you are not to free them? We aren’t humans. We are not subject to your laws. It is your
privilege
to walk among us rather than being attacked. Any attempt to save them will be treated as an expression of hostility, and you
will
join their status. Your little knife may be good to protect you against one, but I can guarantee that it will not save you from all of us. Do I make myself clear?”

Renee’s hands clenched into fists in her pockets. She was not angry—it was a reflex from the mounting panic in her muscles. David was not like Grant at all. He was courteous, controlled, good-natured. What she didn’t like was what he was saying while being so courteous, controlled, and good-natured.

David pushed her hair behind her ear and looked at her face in the light. “Such beautiful big eyes. You’re frightened. That’s good.”

She felt the vibrations deep in her body before she realised that Grant was growling, and not in that almost purr that he had when he was aroused.

“Watch out for this one,” David whispered to her.

Renee thought that she would just watch out in general. This was all beginning to be worse than a very bad idea.

“You look vaguely familiar,” David said, giving Renee her space again. “Have I seen you before?”

“You’re not familiar to me,” Renee said.

“It’s one of those little niggling memory tricks. You probably look like someone I’ve seen on TV or something.”

She wouldn’t be able to help him with something like that, so she just let it go.

“You don’t say much, do you?”

Renee shook her head.

David smiled. It was odd to see something so genuine on the face of someone with all that energy and intensity. Maybe it was just odd to see it on someone whose energy levels resembled Grant’s. “If I didn’t know better, I would have immediately pegged you as easy prey. So I have to wonder what it is he’s found in you.”

“None of your damn business.” Renee actually jumped. That richly guttural voice was unlike anything she had ever heard from Grant. She turned to see him with glowing eyes, a toothsome maw, and fur growing over his skin.

“No,” David said. “It’s not. But if you turn her, it will become my business.” He started to walk towards the rest of the pack.

“Doesn’t have to.”

David paused about twenty feet away. He turned around to face Grant fully. “You can’t possibly be thinking about making your own pack.”

“You aren’t in control of anything that werewolves do when they run outside your pack. You aren’t alpha to me,” Grant snarled.

David’s flesh rippled, and Renee had a glimpse of the werewolf that he was. Like Grant, his human form was not an analogue of his werewolf form. She began to realise part of the reason he was alpha—after all, size did matter in a power struggle, even though it was not everything.

“You don’t have what it takes,” David said.

“I could have been alpha here,” Grant replied.

“Could you beat me in a fight?” David said. “Yes. You’re stronger and faster than me. But you wouldn’t be able to beat all of us, and that’s what kept you from competing. The pack is afraid of you, and that doesn’t make a good leader, Grant. Really, honey,” he said, turning his attention back to Renee, “if you can handle this one, more power to you.”

“You’re lucky none of the packs are looking for a new alpha,” Grant muttered.

“If you fought, you would lose,” David replied. “Don’t push your luck here. You’re welcome as long as you remember your place.”

“And if I do make my own pack?” Grant asked.

“The same natural laws that govern our packs would govern yours. If you can’t respect that, you’re welcome to throw down the gauntlet. But I repeat—you will lose. Have a nice evening.”

“Colossal prick,” Grant said after he left. The fur, fangs, and glowing eyes retreated slowly, as though he was reluctant to be rid of them.

“Aside from the killing humans, not so much,” Renee said. When the fur flared up again, she continued. “He seems to be an okay guy.”

“He’s not worthy of his position,” Grant snapped. “It wasn’t his place to come over here and claim you.”

“He doesn’t want me, Grant. He was just…smelling me. You know that’s normal.”

“It wasn’t his
place
.”

“Hey,” Renee said, “it’s not your place to claim me either. I don’t belong to anybody. Not to you. Not to Britt. Not to him. Just myself.”

Grant brought her against him—not hard, just to have her there. He was becoming less angry, and Renee felt her own brand of tension draining out of her now that he wasn’t as tight as wire.

“You’re doing better. With me. With them. Can you tell?” he asked.

Renee nodded.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been a
good
influence before,” he said.

She wouldn’t have said that he was a good influence, but he was just bad enough, maybe, to help her. She pulled him down, and he kissed her again, this time with the sure knowledge that no one was watching. And if they were, they were too far away to care. He slid his arms underneath her coat, his left hand pressing against the knife on her waist. She could feel its sharper edge slide threateningly against her hip bone.

“I have to claim you here,” he murmured. “If I hadn’t, there might have been a feeding frenzy. It’s our way, love. You will always be prey. And prey with exceptionally pretty legs, at that. You and your own little pack don’t get how it is out here. They’re dogs. We’re werewolves. And our natural prey is more human than anything else.”

“And I’m naturally opposed to it,” Renee replied. “I’m not exactly happy when anything else eats humans, you know. It just seems worse when you spend about half your time in human form, to see yourself when you’re eating someone.”

“As long as you’re consistent.” He was being facetious, but she didn’t much mind because he found her neck, the bruises that he had made the night before, with his tongue and sharp teeth. She hissed as she arched up into him. She was almost surprised at the strength of her reaction, and he exploited it to the best of his ability, bringing the blood to the surface of her skin until it pulsed with her heartbeat. But he did not break the surface, not when the rest of the werewolves could smell fresh blood well enough without him making it more accessible. He finally just stood there, letting her kiss him, breathing in her scent and holding tightly to her arms.