Winter’s Wolf (3 page)

W
INTER
PARKED
his ass on the stool and stretched out one leg. Sitting always made him antsy. He leaned toward Damon. “Those two males in the corner really checked me out. Think they’re Marketo?”

“Possibly. The young one would have been born after I left. The other one could have been an adolescent with me, but he doesn’t look familiar. I think he’s law.”

“Yeah. Smells like it.”
Act casual.
“That’s a human with them. Wonder why they’re together?”

“Probably law also. Like a deputy or something.” Damon grinned. “He’s got on jeans, but it looks like that denim is about to morph into a gray suit. Could be some kind of Fed.”

“Shit.”

“Why do you care? You’re just another law-abiding citizen.” He clinked his glass against Winter’s bottle.

A law-abiding citizen who wanted to leave the guy’s gray suit in shreds while he fucked him in the dirt. “Yeah. I don’t care.” He turned and faced the bar.

A second later, Damon turned also. “Look relaxed. The big one’s coming this way.”

Winter tensed. They’d never broken laws outright but lived on the fringes, off any known grid, cash-and-carry, no address. In animal form, law meant men with guns running them off cattle and sheep herds. Law seldom looked friendly.

Winter could feel the heat of the guy’s body from feet away. The wolf stopped. “Hi. You’re new here, I think.” Winter felt Damon turn, so he did too. Up close the big wolf looked just as wildly unhuman and gorgeous as he did at a distance. Probably just a few years older than Winter. The guy stuck out a hand. “I’m Cole Harker.”

Winter felt Damon tense just a little.
Enemy?
But he shook the offered hand. “Yes, Cole, I think I know your father. I’m Damon Thane and this is my son, Winter.”

Cole smiled, but no doubt this was an inquisition. “You know Landon?” Yeah, Winter remembered that name from his father’s talk about the packs. Landon was part of the Harker pack.

“Yes. I left the area about twenty-five years ago when your grandfather was—” He glanced around. “—the family leader. Landon was older than I, so we weren’t in school together, but I knew him.”

“He’s the family leader—” Cole grinned at their euphemism. “—now.”

So that made Landon alpha.

Damon nodded. “And that makes you—?”

“Yes.”

Alphanta. That was the word they weren’t saying. So that’s why the guy had so much force. Winter had never met a real alphanta before—the wolf destined by blood and skill to become alpha, but with the qualifier that the pack had to choose him. At least that’s what Damon had taught him in his pack catechism.

Cole stuck out a hand to Winter. “Glad to meet you.”

Winter shook.
Holy shit.
The power of the wolf shivered up his arm, but he saw a slight widening of Harker’s eyes. Maybe the recognition went both ways. Harker glanced back at Damon. “So, were you a part of, uh, our family? Would I know your relatives?”

“You might, but we’re actually part of the Marketo pa—family.”

Harker gave a real smile. “No kidding? Actually, we have a family alliance. So I guess that makes us related.”

“Really. When did this happen?”

“A little more than two years ago.”

“A marriage?”

“Yes, my spouse and I.”

Damon tipped the last of his drink toward the handsome wolf. “Congratulations. We’re going to have a lot of catching up to do.”

Harker asked a bit too casually, “Is this a visit?”

“We’re hoping to stay. I want my son to have benefit of—family life.”

“Have you made contact with Merced Marketo as yet?”

“No. We just arrived. I’m hoping to see him tomorrow.”

“Good. It’s important that you get his, uh, blessing while you’re in the area. Perhaps the rest of your family left when you did? I don’t recall any Thanes in the area.”

Damon set his empty glass on the bar. “Actually, that’s because I changed my name when I left. I always have had a great love of the classics. Thane of Cawdor?
Macbeth
?”

Harker nodded, but a crease popped out between his silvery brows. “So what was your name? Would I know it?”

“Yes. Our family name is Marketo. I’m Merced’s brother.”

M
ERCED
SMILED
,
but his pacing in front of the living room windows revealed how nervous he was. “Amazing, Damon. I never thought to see you again. All these years with no word.”

Damon shrugged. “Time flies when you’re running away.”

“Father was upset when you left.”

“And relieved. I was a pain in his ass.”

“You were young.”

“I was too much like my mother.” His mother—the exquisite werewolf witch Quintillius Marketo had been unable to resist. She’d birthed Damon and then went back to her wilding ways.

“What a beauty. From what I saw, your son looks so much like her. Imagine, wild Damon with a son of his own.”

Damon nodded. “It’s why I came back. He’s lived packless his whole life. Never even went to school. I educated him. But he’s turning into me and then some, and I want him to have a better life. I want him to have the pack.”

Merced finally sat opposite Damon on the other velvet loveseat in the elegant, formal room. Even beyond their ten-year age difference, he’d grown older with care and stress—a war just barely won, from what Merced told him. “We’re honored to have you and your son back, Damon. Do you want to live with us until you get settled?”

“That’s too kind of you, brother. I couldn’t impose, and I’m afraid your beautiful home would be too big a first step toward civilization for my wilderness-loving son.” He smiled.

Merced nodded. “I noticed he seemed pretty anxious to go back to your campsite.”

“We’ve even lived in caves for part of his life. Mostly we rented rooms or small cabins and found work where we could. He’s happy as long as he can be near the trees and the wild, so we’ll find something simple to rent. We have a bit of money from our last few jobs. We don’t use much, and I’ll find work as soon as I can. But I’m genuinely touched by your generosity.”

Merced looked relieved. That made two of them. “Let me at least give you a welcome party to introduce you to the pack. That will include both the Marketos and Harkers, since we’re allied.”

“Excellent. Please invite all your most eligible females. One of my highest priorities is getting Winter mated and settled.”

Merced nodded. “That will be no trouble with a young, eligible male that handsome. They’ll be lining up and pulling hair.” They both laughed.

Damon took a breath. “I stopped by the Way Station last night. It still seems to be the gathering place for both wolves and humans.”

“Yes, I don’t get there often myself, but the young, unmated pack members love it.”

“I certainly met my share of females there.”

Merced raised an eyebrow. “I remember.”

“I don’t suppose any of that old gang still frequents the place?”

“Anyone special you’re looking for?”

“Oh no. Just wondering about old connections.”

“Maybe more than one male around here is looking to mate?” Merced popped some dimples that ran in the family.

Damon shrugged. “I’m too old. I tried to marry Winter’s mother when she became pregnant, but she chose another. Since then, I play the field.”

“I’m sure there will be many a female eye roving in your direction, brother.”

Damon stood. “Thank you so much for the gracious welcome. Oh, I understand that your daughter made an excellent match. Congratulations.” He smiled.

“My daughter?” Color faded from Merced’s cheeks.

What did I say?
“Didn’t your daughter marry the Alphanta Cole to establish the Harker alliance?”

He frowned. “No. My daughter Analiese ran off with a human male and we receive occasional cards from her.”

“A human? How does she maintain the cardinal rule?”

His frown carved deeper lines in his forehead. “I’m assured her spouse doesn’t know. We have a pack spy close to her to be certain she’s well and that the human remains in the dark. Since she’s alphanta, she has more control over her urges. She takes regular ‘retreats’ to shift. She likes pretending she’s human. That’s what I’m told.”

“That must be difficult for you, to be estranged. Winter and I have our struggles, but I can’t imagine life without him nearby.”

Merced looked even older. “Yes.”

“How does the pack feel about it?”

He blew out his breath. “They don’t like it at all—some much less than others.”

“But I’m confused. I met Cole Harker last night at the Way Station. He said his wedding established the alliance.”

Merced pulled himself up a little taller. A big man, burly, but not as tall as Damon by a few inches, he still carried the alpha’s mantle of power. “Cole Harker married Paris Marketo, my son by my first wife. You remember her?”

Damon couldn’t breathe. He gasped out the words. “Yes, uh, she was lovely and powerful.”

“She died birthing Paris.”

“I’m so sorry. But—but Paris is a male.” His hands clenched into fists.

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Both Cole and Paris are—attracted to males.”

Damon’s mouth opened, closed, and snapped open again. “There’s no such thing as a gay werewolf.”

“Paris is a double shifter—wolf and panther—but point taken.”

He fought to keep his voice from rising and lost. “The alphanta of the fucking Harker Pack is gay?”

“Yes.”

“Sweet hell, what will I tell Winter?”

M
ATT
P
ARTRIDGE
hunkered down in the dust of the clearing. A small pool of dried blood still survived despite three days of FBI and local police investigation. Even in the dense smells of the forest, the edge of acrid iron scent clung to the area. But he’d always had a better sense of smell than most guys.

Cole stood on the other side of the clearing with his arms folded over his huge chest. “Seems odd to bring a body all the way up here and then dump it in the open. There are a lot of places it could have been hidden that would have made it much harder to find.”

Matt stood and brushed his hands. “We assume someone intended to hide the body but then got scared off for some reason. They found animal tracks. Big ones.”

“We have wild dogs.”

Something about the speed with which Cole said that made Matt look up at the odd, handsome face. “So I’ve heard. Maybe the killers saw one of them and freaked.”

“Possible.”

“No bite marks on the body, though. Just tracks.”

“Are we done here?”

“Yes. My people have cleaned the place out.”

Cole struck out through the underbrush, and Matt followed. The guy was a great tracker, but Matt always suspected he was choosing his tracks carefully. They passed a big tree Matt recognized. They were heading back to the vehicle, just by another route. It seemed Cole didn’t really want Matt nosing around in this forest.

Matt glanced down and saw a footprint. “Hold up.” Following the direction the boot mark pointed, Matt walked through some dense foliage and came out in another clearing, but this one had the remains of a campfire and a lot of footprints in the dirt. “Campers?”

“Probably.”

He pointed at a scuffed area near the fire. “This could be marks from a sleeping bag. Pretty rough camping for Connecticut. Not even a tent.”

Cole crossed his arms again and frowned but said nothing.

Matt searched the ground around the site. Behind a log, a picked-clean bone lay shining against the green underbrush. “What the hell?” Matt pulled plastic gloves from his pocket and put them on, then picked up the bone and dropped it into an evidence bag.

Cole stared. “It’s from a deer.”

“Killed by animals? Those dogs again?”

“No. It’s been cooked. Somebody shot it.”

“It’s not hunting season, is it?”

Cole shook his head, still frowning. “Probably killed with a bow or something like that. You know, they have those high tech bows now.”

Matt gazed at Cole for a moment.
Cool but antsy.
“I’ll turn it in anyway.”

Cole cleared his throat. “Actually, I expect this campsite was set up by my relatives. You know, the ones who came into the Way Station last night? They’re real wilderness types. This would be like them.”

“I didn’t realize those two men were related to you. I thought you didn’t recognize them?”
Okay Partridge, cool your interest.

“I didn’t. I’d never met them before. They’re actually related to my husband.”

“Husband?”

“Yeah. Paris Marketo. Sorry, I just assume everyone knows I’m gay. It made quite a splash around here a couple years back when Paris and I got married.”

Matt tried to keep his voice from sounding breathy. “Paris? The gorgeous one?” Damn, how did he not know that Cole Harker was gay?

Cole smiled, and it lit up his eyes. “Yeah, that would be him.”

Matt had met Paris while investigating the kidnappings the previous year. Hard to miss that one. Almost surreal in his beauty. Kind of like that platinum-haired creature who’d come in last night. “I saw him when we were investigating Lindsey Vanessen’s kidnapping.”