Wolfen (11 page)

 
"I'm not going to disagree. We're about to be heavily outnumbered here. If the goal is to keep this as quiet as possible, though, I'm not sure sending in a few hundred wolfen would go unnoticed. The
weres
are going to be unstable when they hit their first transition in a few days. Sending in more wolfen is only going to make matters worse, to my way of thinking. It'll almost certainly result in a heavier loss of life—and it's going to be damned hard to hush this up if we end up with a couple of hundred bodies."

 
"You think having several hundred pain maddened
weres
rampaging around the countryside isn't going to arouse a lot attention?"

 
"No, I don't—not if we manage to quarantine the uninfected. They won't know what's going on. We can tell them whatever story we need to. The county doesn't see a lot of traffic from outsiders so I don't expect there's much likelihood of anyone beyond the area getting wind of it. Once the
weres
have exhausted themselves we'll take care of the rogues and get some of our own men in here to restore peace and establish council law. It may take some convincing—they're bound to be feeling powerful and invincible, but we can handle that issue fairly quietly I believe."

 
Dorian uttered an irritated sigh over the phone. “Alright, I'm convinced. You'll get what you need. I still think you should go ahead and send for a few of your men."

 
"I'm glad you agree. We already did."

 
"Well?” Dakota asked when he'd hung up the phone.

 
Balin turned and surveyed the others. “We have the go ahead. Dorian says we'll have what we need here by next Friday."

 
Jared looked disgusted. “That's going to be cutting it close."

 
Balin shrugged. “It's a tall order even with the resources at our command. It might just work better anyway—have more of an emergency feel to it that would create enough uneasiness to get them moving without asking too many questions or making too much noise. We don't want any of the more suspicious deciding to start making phone calls."

 
Dakota frowned. “It might be a good idea to cut the communications just in case. I'll get back with my pack and get someone to working on that."

 
"You think the rogue pack might try to make a run for it?” Con asked thoughtfully.

 
"They know we're here,” Balin retorted. “They haven't yet. I think the bastards are feeling too full of themselves to consider it. Either that or they're laboring under the misconception that we're rogue, too, and they think this is just a local territorial dispute."

 
"I'll still feel better when we have our net in place,” Jared muttered. “I don't like the fact that they haven't made a move on us. They must at least suspect the council sent us or they wouldn't be so careful to keep on the move."

 
"They're still taking our measure,” Balin responded with a shrug. “Look at it from their standpoint. There are only five of us. I doubt the leader feels threatened—not by us. No doubt he also figures the
weres
will eliminate the problem for him once they turn. They'll be under his control—such as it is. More likely he's keeping on the move because he realizes he screwed up and the government is on to him, otherwise he would've made a move against Danika—beyond trying to turn her, which I think was his plan. It's probably still his plan, either because he wants her for a mate or merely to get her under his control and keep her from bringing in the feds—probably both."

 
Xavier looked troubled. “I still don't like it that we don't have a clear picture of his plans. You think he's just crazy, Balin?"

 
Balin made a rude noise. “Crazy ambitious seems more likely. I don't think he chose to jump the border. I think he was driven out and I also think he's got ambitions beyond taking over this little burg. He had all the men he needed to do that. The only possible explanation, assuming he isn't crazy, is that he planned on using the
weres
to help him grab a bigger chunk of territory than this small area. Maybe he's even got ambitions of bouncing back across the border once he's strong enough and taking back what he lost. If it makes you feel better, we'll ask him before we rip his throat out."

 
"If he comes within sniffing distance of Danika again, I'm not waiting to ask the bastard anything!” Con growled.

 
"She's not
yours
to protect!” Dakota snapped.

 
"You saying she's yours?” Con demanded, tensing all over and coming slowly to his feet.

 
"She's under the protection of council law,” Balin said coldly.

 
Jared, Con, Dakota, and Xavier all exchanged a long look before turning to look at Balin speculatively.

 
"She wouldn't be any less protected by council law if one of us claimed her,” Jared said finally.

 
"Or more,” Balin pointed out tightly.

 
"If you mean by that that you don't have any intention of taking part in the fight to settle who gets her, that's fine by me,” Dakota snapped.

 
"
None
of you—us—will ‘get’ her!” Balin snarled. “She isn't wolfen and she isn't a
were
, and I'll fucking kill the first one of you that even considers converting her. She wouldn't make it through transition. You all
know
what her chances are. Even if she made it through transition in one piece, physically, and didn't die in the attempt, her chances of making it and still being sane are even less likely."

 
Con narrowed his eyes at him furiously. “What I'd like to know, since you keep trying to convince us you've got no interest in her yourself, is why the fuck you keep harping on taking her for a mate when none of the rest of us have suggested it."

 
Balin's face darkened. “Maybe you think that isn't what you've got in mind,” he said coldly. “Or maybe you're just trying to convince me it isn't, but you wouldn't be so fixated on getting her in your bed if the thought hadn't crossed your mind."

 
"Maybe it's what's on your mind?” Jared retorted.

 
"Maybe,” Balin responded, “but I'm not thinking with my dick. I know it isn't possible—even if it was desirable—which it isn't."

 
"What's crossed my mind—several times,” Con growled, “is that I wouldn't be thinking with my dick if I used the fucking thing!"

 
Balin studied him for a long moment and then looked at each of the others with equal assessment. “Then maybe you can explain to me, since you're all so sure mating hasn't crossed your mind, why it is that you think you can settle this, or need to, by combat? If you just want to fuck her, draw straws!"

 
The sense of discomfort that rolled through Con leavened his aggressiveness, slightly. He glanced around at the others, seeing a similar reaction in their expressions. “We agreed to settle it in the accepted manner,” he said finally.

 
"And, once you have,” Balin said coldly, “the victor's planning on just marching up to her door and informing her she's the spoils of battle? You think she's just going to drop to her back and spread her legs for you?"

 
"Don't be an ass, Balin!” Dakota snapped. “We're not fucking idiots, whatever you think. The victor gets to convince her and the others step back."

 
Balin's lips tightened. “You're lying to yourself if you believe that. You wouldn't be willing to settle it in battle if any of you were willing to let it go that easily."

 
Con narrowed his eyes at him. “I'd suggest you stay here if you didn't have any interest in the outcome, but I don't fucking trust you."

 
Abruptly, Balin grinned at him wolfishly. “You're not as stupid as I thought you were."

 
Con stared at him blankly a moment as the insult struck home then uttered a snarl of rage and pounced.

 
"Not here!” Jared, Dakota, and Xavier bellowed at almost the same moment, struggling to separate the two men.

 
"You want to scare the hell out of her like you did the last time?” Xavier demanded indignantly. “The victor's going to have a hell of a time convincing her to unlock her god damned legs if he has to take the door off to get to her!"

 
Con and Balin, both breathing heavily with rage, backed off, glaring at one another.

 
"The woods then,” Balin snarled finally.

 
* * * *

To Danika's relief, there wasn't a sign of the bikers when she nerved herself to poke her head out for a look around. Their bikes were still parked in front of their cabin, though, and she decided to err on the side of caution. Holding her bag close to keep the contents from rattling, she stepped out onto the porch and closed her cabin door as quietly as she could.

 
She glanced at the neighboring cabin again when she reached the yard, frowning a little worriedly. She'd heard the sounds of an argument/fight between them a little earlier. The silence from the cabin now was downright unnerving, particularly when the presence of the bikes made it obvious they hadn't gone anywhere.

 
Maybe it had just been another drink inspired argument and they were sleeping it off?

 
Dismissing it after a moment, she headed toward the break in the woods where the trail started, waiting until she was out of view of the cabins to flick her flashlight on. She'd napped for a while in the hope that she'd be more alert if she had to stay out all night. She'd slept longer than she'd intended to, though, and, as she hurried along the trail, her mind switched focus from the bikers to a growing anxiety that she might've missed the wolves.

 
Not that she could actually count on the fact that they'd used the trail a good bit before in their nightly roaming, but she thought her chances good of catching them. She just hoped she was early enough to find a good observation spot where she could see them without being detected.

 
She'd found a tree close to the clearing where the tracks indicated a meeting point. She was pretty sure she could climb it without much trouble. Then, even if they did spot her and decided to attack instead of running, at least she'd be safe. The thought made her think about her tranq pistol and she stopped and rifled around in her bag until she'd unearthed it. She carried it for a while, but the custom made pistol was heavy. No doubt the guy she'd bought it from hadn't considered the weight a problem, but her hand and arm began to cramp fairly quickly from the heavy piece and she finally stopped again and shoved it in the front of her jeans.

 
Thinking wryly that she looked like some kind of vigilante the concern flickered through her mind, briefly, that she might stumble upon a game warden or a night hunter but she was able to dismiss it fairly quickly. She hadn't run into anybody in her nightly wanderings in all the time she'd been there. It seemed unlikely she would now.

 
She was about halfway to the clearing when she heard, dimly, in the distance, the snarls and growls of wolves. Her heart kicked up its pace a notch. She hadn't missed them—yet—but it seemed obvious they were already at the rendezvous point. If she didn't hurry, she still might.

 
The snarls and growls grew louder as she hurried down the path, punctuated now and then with yelps of pain that made it clear they were fighting. That could be a good thing and could be bad news. The fight was bound to hold the focus of the entire group. On the other hand, they were also certain to be more dangerous if they were fighting over pack position.

 
It was hard to say when she couldn't see what was going on. They might be squabbling over a kill—an equally dangerous situation—but it began to seem that way when she realized there were intervals of silence and then there would be a fresh eruption as if a new battle had been taken up.