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The Ulfic's Mate Page 8
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“Is she okay?” the jaguar asked.
“She will be. I have some salve at home. Thank you, Sherona. You and your people,” he said as more cats surrounded them. He looked at Alex’s pale face and felt a wrenching in his gut. His mate was injured. Fury rolled through him.
“We are not safe yet, ulfric,” Sherona replied, using his pack title as a show of honor. “They had a vehicle. We have a couple of miles before we get to ours. Hope that Boris is too ashamed of his failure to go to his leader right away. It may buy us time. If not”— she shrugged in indifference— “it will be a fight.”
Nolan welcomed a fight for himself, but a battle wasn’t what was best for his mate. He nodded, containing his anger. He followed Sherona as she turned to leave. He saw the two wolves on security detail keeping an eye on Joseph and allowed himself to relax slightly. They would be watching Joseph closely.
Soon, he would have to take care of Joseph and his constant undermining of his authority. He trudged along behind Sherona, grateful for his great endurance. Seeing Alex’s pale face worried him, but he figured it was better for her to remain unconscious. Her pain must be excruciating. He had felt it when he had arrived and had seen red as he jumped Boris. Even though the anger was not as powerful now that he had Alex in his arms, he wished he had killed the wolf whom had come into his home and stolen his mate.
His arm that held her back was sticky with her blood. Boris must have cut her deep. He needed to get her home. They had crossed about a mile and a half already. Her blood should already be clotted.
The jarring of his gait probably was not helping the clotting process. Worriedly, he pulled her closer and to assure himself she was still alive. He was angry Boris had gotten away. Joseph wasn’t even supposed to be in on the hunt. Somehow, he had ended up at Nolan’s house, and there had not been time to get Joseph restrained. Figuring it was better to have the enemy under his watchful eye, he’d had Joseph come with him. Willing himself not to turn around and give Joseph a dirty look, he pondered the politics going on about him.
His pack had been relatively content until the recent rash of murders. At least he knew who was behind them. It angered him that he had at least one traitor in the mix, maybe more. Was Joseph a traitor or just a troublemaker? He did not need the added trouble of a traitor. Right now, he had enough to worry about.
Like the ten wolves from Roxy’s pack hanging around their vehicles.
Chapter Eight
He took quick stock of his allies: the three werecats with him, Joseph and the two security wolves assigned to him, and one other of his pack. That made eight on his side to their ten. He smiled. He could handle those odds.
Setting Alex down carefully on her side, he started devising a strategy. Sherona was ahead of him.
“I say let’s go after them full-on. Like an old-fashioned battle,” she said with obvious pleasure. “They won’t expect it, and the only one here not fit for that kind of fight is Joseph. No real loss if he gets hurt.”
Nolan looked at Joseph. The man was not good for the pack. “Okay, but let’s not throw him to the wolves just yet,” he replied, letting laughter creep into his tongue-in-cheek humor. “He has a mate.”
“It’s your call. We’ll back you up.”
“Storming is the right way. Let’s make sure he doesn’t die. If he’s guilty of something, I want proof before killing him.” Nolan also wanted justice.
“On your signal, we’ll go.”
Nolan looked at Alex one last time. He partially shifted, his hands and arms thickening from the elbow down. His claws elongated, and the muscles throughout his body enlarged and strengthened, making him look like some power lifter with wolf gloves on. When he looked over at Sherona, he saw her eyes widen.
“You can partial shift?”
“Yes. I’ve not shown it outside the pack before now. But I think it’s time for a show of power.”
She looked at him with newfound respect, the feeling strong in her mind. He knew she had always liked him best of the non-werecats, but now he thought she respected him the most as well. Hard to tell with the battle thoughts already crowding her mind.
“Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
He signaled to the two on security detail that they were to go in full tilt, leaving it to them to tell the others. After the trouble they have had lately, he had made sure all of the adult wolves knew their basic battle signs, both with paw and with human hands.
He paused and looked at each enemy wolf in turn. Every one of them began to appear nervous as they noted the entourage he had brought with him. Also he could hear the fearful thoughts as they assimilated his partial shift. And Moriah’s lustful thoughts at his show of power. She still had her sights on being his lupa despite his rejection. They had briefly dated, but he had never told her he could control a partial shift. He mentally shrugged. She was in love with the power.
He performed the final signal. The battle had begun.
Claws and teeth were everywhere. The foes jumped and swung at each other, the growls and hisses echoing back and forth until it sounded as if there were ten times more the number of fighters. The Lupin pack fought hard, but Nolan sensed no joy from them; they were simply soldiers doing their work. He did not understand why that would include killing his people and kidnapping their own healer. He ducked as one of the better fighters took a swipe at his throat.
Occasional yips sounded as injuries struck deep, and it wasn’t long before both sides were covered in scratches and gashes. Blood coated the fur of the Lupin wolves in sticky patches and the wolves and cats they fought. Snarls of feline and canine variety echoed through the hills of Mount Adams.
Nolan fought hard, not wanting to die. But he also did not want to kill those fighting him, which hampered his moves. The way he saw it, they weren’t the real problems in the enemy pack, Boris and Roxy were.
Blood was running down the side of the wolf he had just sliced in self-defense. Sherona had a Lupin limping and falling back to the cars and another one under her paws, one claw out and on its neck, threatening to pierce. One of his weres was injured severely. Enough was enough.
“Listen,” he yelled in his human voice. It sounded strange among the animals’ grunts and growls. “I came to save one who was under my protection and kidnapped. By rights, I can kill all who interfere. The first who feels up to challenging me in a one-on-one combat can fight me to the death. Anyone willing to take me on?”
Silence pervaded the clearing. He sought out their minds, looking for clues. As he had suspected, most of the fighters had not realized the truth of what was happening. Only one had any real idea, and that one was only fighting because Boris had threatened to kill him if he did not. Well, he would give them something more to fear.
“All of you are hurt. Tell your leaders we escaped.” He paused, assessing their body language. They still were not convinced to leave. “Or fight me now.”
Knowing by their thoughts that none wished to challenge him, he signaled his people to guard his back while he went to pick up Alex. He did not want any last-minute bravery mucking up his escape. He strode purposefully to his car and the wolves moved aside to let him pass. They were nervous about facing Boris, but they were more afraid of the were who could partially shift.
Carefully and not taking their eyes off the enemy, all those who had come with him quickly shifted and got into their vehicles. Nolan paused for a minute when he caught a stray thought of recognition. He tried to pinpoint it but could not figure out which member of the other pack had recognized one of those who had come with him.
Perhaps the recognition was innocent. A chance meeting at the store Joseph worked at—Joseph was identified as the familiar—or using the same gas station. There were lots of little ways one person can recognize another. But Nolan sensed that was not the case this time.
He caught Sherona’s eyes. She had heard the thoughts as well. Cursing, he gently sat Alex in the backseat next
to him. He had ridden with Sherona in case he would have to hold Alex when they found her, a fact which had not sat well with Moriah. He clamped his jaw. She would have to be dealt with later.
His mate was injured, and his beast let out a growl. Someone would pay with their blood. He had never been so angry in his life. Fury sprung up, and he saw Alex’s face start to contort. Shit. He was forcing the change again. He took deep breaths and looked out the window, forcing himself to calm his emotions. She did not need to wake up to her wolf form.
He felt a gaze on him and looked forward. Sherona was watching him in the rearview mirror. “That’s some fury you have there, Ulfric. Even though I’ve just shifted back to human form, you’re calling out my cat. It’s rare to be able to pull the beast of your own kind. But I’ve never heard of the leader of a pack being able to force someone’s to shift to their beast who wasn’t from their same species.”
“Sorry,” he replied. Great. Now she would fear him in a way that would make them enemies.
“No, it won’t make us enemies. I’m grateful it’s you with the power and not Roxy. She’s a real bitch,” Sherona said with a half smile for him in the mirror.
That was a bit disconcerting. He had forgotten she could read thoughts the same way he could. Not as much fun being on the passing side of sending thoughts as it was to be on the receiving end of things.
“Please don’t tell anyone,” he said.
“Of course. Even though a large part of the were lore talks of telepaths, any power not directly physical like superstrength is still looked at suspiciously among my shadow. Only a few can accept it so we keep it low-key. No worries, pup. I’ll keep your secret,” she teased.
He smiled, appreciating her humor and attempt at helping him control his fury. The were community was not close-knit in their area but had enjoyed a shaky truce in the last few years. It would be a pity to ruin that because of the irrational fears of psychic powers.
Whatever was happening with being able to pull out other werebeasts was new to him. Until it had happened with Alex, he hadn’t known he could do it. Was it the added power of having found his mate? Something to ponder and look into once he had ensured the safety of his pack members and Alex.
He had endeavored to be a more modern leader than his father had been. His father’s justice had been ruthless and swift. Usually, his father’s judgments turned out to be right on the money.
It made him a hard man to live up to. He had stepped down in favor of Nolan and now lived peacefully in a house with his mate. Some of the pack wanted to bring him back, if half the rumors Nolan heard could be believed.
Once they were clear of the fighting area, he shifted back to full human form. He was tired, but already felt his energy replenishing itself. He pulled Alex in close now that he did not have the claws out and snuggled her. If his new powers were due to having found his mate, it was no wonder the people in his pack were so ferocious around their mates.
He closed his eyes and let his body rest. He was sure this was not over. Roxy would retaliate. He wondered what they thought of him coming to the rescue of one of their pack. For that matter, his own pack was likely to be a little perturbed.
Normally, his home being violated would be enough reason to rescue the person who had been in it at the time. But these were not normal circumstances. Someone was trying to undermine him, his authority, and weaken the pack. Joseph had to know who was behind it if he was not the mastermind.
God, how he hated politics. There were days Nolan wished he could throw his hands up and let someone else run the pack. But all the contenders would soon get the pack into a lot of trouble and probably turn them into a supernatural gang like Roxy’s pack. Early in his law enforcement career, he had seen too much gang mentality and fighting and did not want that for his people.
He gently brushed the hair back from Alex’s face to see if there was any damage. None he could see so he checked her back again. It was bad. She should not still be bleeding but with his other hand, he could feel fresh blood oozing through her shirt. Panic tried to overtake him as the smell of his mate’s blood permeated his sense. She needed a were doctor.
“Sherona,” he started.
“Already on it. I can smell it. Something’s wrong in her blood. It’s got a chemical smell that’s not natural,” she said as she took a swift turn that headed onto the reservation instead of toward the highway and town. “The best blood doctor for weres lives out here, and I know he’s not on call at the hospital today.”
Nolan was curious as to how she would know that but figured it was a question best left for another time. He could not help his thoughts, however, he could control his tongue.
About twenty minutes later, they arrived at a two-story home set on a few acres. The gates opened upon their arrival to reveal an oasis in the middle of the semi-arid desert where most of the reservation was located. Privacy evergreens stood like sentinels around the gates, making it nearly impossible to see inside the property until the car had passed through the entrance. It was beautifully landscaped, including an open manicured lawn near the house.
Pines, larch, and other coniferous trees were flanked with many deciduous trees whose branches showed as black lines against the darkening sky farther back into the property. Lots of winter mums were still holding onto their blooms, but more had already given way to the cold. He imagined this was a place of peace for the injured weres who came here.
He had heard rumors of such a place, but as far as he had known, none of his pack had been treated here. Carefully so as to not jar her, he unbuckled Alex as the car pulled to a stop near the front double doors. He got out, then leaned in, reverently picked her up, and nearly wept at the pool of blood left on the seat.
When he stood up straight, he and Sherona shared a glance. This was not normal. Even in her human state, she should have been healing quickly not getting worse. Sherona managed the stairs in one quick move and opened the doors for him, calling out as she did so.
“Tom, it’s Sherona. We have a were in desperate need,” she said as she stood to the side for him to pass. Nolan looked around but did not seen anyone.
“You’re sure he’s here and it’s okay for us to enter?” he asked dubiously.
“I’ve already contacted him. That’s why the gates opened upon our arrival and the doors were unlocked. I’m calling out for the other people in his household, so they know someone needs medical attention and we don’t get attacked. His security tends to be of the attack-now-ask-questions-later variety.”
He paused inside the doorway and could not help his curiosity at someone who would name their werecat child “Tom.” Sense of humor? Or lack of one?
He knew his mind fixated on a minor thing to shy away from how injured Alex was. About to yell impatiently for someone to help her, he saw a young male enter the foyer. The man walked briskly, the thigh muscles showing against the thin pant material as he walked.
“Sherona,” he said but actually looked at Nolan and his charge.
“I vouch for them,” she replied to the unspoken question. “We were just helping Nolan track her, his mate, who’d been kidnapped. Obviously, we found her, but she’s not healing, and the blood keeps seeping. Nolan, this is Paul Smith.”
“She’s a were?” Paul asked with two fingers on her wrist, eyes on his watch.
“Yes,” Nolan answered. “But it’s not common knowledge. She’s a—” He stumbled. In the cab of the truck when they’d first met and she’d told the story of her bloodlines, he had had no problem giving her the clinical description of half-breed to explain her heritage, but he could not say it now. To him, Alex wasn’t half of anything. “She’s not a known were,” he said instead. “But she’s the healer for Roxy’s pack, the Lupins.”
The man, who must be a medical aide, judging by the way he assessed Alex, looked at him perplexed. “Lupin? That makes her a werewolf. I think. How is she a healer if she’s not a known were?”
“It’s a long, compli
cated story and not mine to tell right now. She needs help. You just need to know that the ones who did this to her likely think she’d react as a normal human to whatever they gave her.”
The aide nodded. “Follow me. If you’re still okay carrying her, then I think we should take her directly to the doctor. Her breathing’s erratic, and her heart is pumping like wild horses. And there’s a smell about her I can’t place. Something’s coming out in the blood.”
Nolan followed the aide into the bowels of the house, Sherona coming up behind Nolan. They passed through a few rooms and then arrived at a set of double doors. The aide pushed a button discreetly hidden in the panels. The doors parted to reveal metal doors. An elevator.
“This house belongs in England,” Nolan muttered, a little uncomfortable. Who set up their clinics to look like this?
“Someone who’s protecting a whole race of people—the weres,” Sherona said tersely. “He realized early on we needed help. And for your information, he is from England. He has some fancy titles and is the younger son of a duke,” Sherona finished in answer to his thoughts.
Nolan reddened. He had momentarily forgotten she could read his mind. His was so full of a red haze of anger and concern that he was not processing information very well, which was undoubtedly why she had spoken aloud instead of using telepathy. He could not even read the aide clearly, although he could hear the static.
“There’s stair access, but I thought it might be better to go this way,” the aide said calmly, ignoring Nolan and Sherona’s conversation.
He pushed a button, and they descended two levels. Now Nolan wondered if he was not being lead into an insane asylum or Dr. Jekyll’s personal lab.
Sherona’s snort told him she had received that thought loud and clear but did not tell him if her opinion agreed with his.
As the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, Alex woke up.
“Nolan,” she said weakly. “What happened?”