Wild Instinct (29 page)

She took a breath and the scent of gunpowder, dust, rubble and blood all blended together in a confusing mix. And yet, despite all that, she could still make out his scent. It was soothing when she shouldn’t be soothed.

“Thank you for your help.”

She took another step back, but to the left. Her goal, the door. Too late she realized she should have just run past him with Josiah rather than grabbing Josiah and pulling him back. In worrying about the child’s sensibilities she’d overlooked the opportunity. She always made mistakes like that, but then again, she wasn’t a warrior; she wasn’t a Protector; she was just a woman with a gift that would set her outside a pack if it was known.

“Aunt Rachel?”

“Quiet, Josiah.” She turned to Cur. “Are you really from Haven?” she asked.

“Yes.”

She noted his hazel eyes, not full- blood were, yet Protector. She didn’t know whether to be soothed or panicked. Everyone knew mixed-bloods were unstable. But Protector mixed-bloods were the worst, especially when it came to meeting their mates. It was as if their human emotions often overwhelmed or fed their were possessiveness. Of all the women she knew who had been killed by their mates, and they were not many, their mates had always had human blood.

“You’re not pure blood.”

“Nope.” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “You going to have a problem with that?”

Not that she’d mention out loud. “No.” She held out her hand. “Rachel Dern.”

He took her hand, but not to shake it. Holding her gaze, he brought it to his lips, grazing his teeth over the back. Before she jerked free, Rachel felt the touch of his tongue. Electricity shot up her arm, lodging in her chest, shattering her next breath into a staccato series of gasps.

He smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

She could feel Josiah watching them, too young to understand the tension, but feeling it. She rubbed her hand against her thigh and concentrated on making her next breath normal. The tingling didn’t stop and in her heightened state, she became aware of many things about Cur, including how handsome he was with the dark brown hair streaked with lighter shades falling over his brow, and the mobile expressions of his face, and that perpetual, irritating, goading smile that seemed to hover on his lips.

She took another step to the left. The door was so close, yet so far.

“You’ll never make it.”

Rachel’s gaze whipped up to Cur’s.

“I’ll run you down before you get five steps.”

She glanced down at his thighs. Even through the jeans the muscles were evident. And considering he wasn’t even breathing hard after defeating six rogues, he was probably right.

But she had to try. Josiah was under her care and she had only Cur’s word that he was from Haven. All she really knew was that he’d been following her since they’d escaped the cave, staying on her trail when others had been thrown off, until they reached this place, this time.

She licked her lips, remembering the knowledge she’d woken up with this morning that when the door opened, her world would change.

She looked Cur over again, seeing him as a man in his prime. Her womb clenched; her pulse picked up. Mate. This time her dreams hadn’t lied. Nothing was ever going to be the same again.

Four

CUR watched as Rachel absorbed the knowledge that her running was over. Her soft brown eyes narrowed as her brain raced. Her teeth bit into her lower lip, causing tiny pinpoints of white within the lush red. He wanted to lean down and pull that lip from her teeth with his, suck it between his lips, kiss her, hold her, know the softness of her hair, the softness of her body, feel the lean muscle of her legs against his.

She was wolf. She should have formally recognized his claim, but she hadn’t and he didn’t kid himself as to why. He was mixed blood and in her book likely an uncertainty as a mate. But he was her only option and she was going to take it whether she wanted to or not.

“Do you have any proof you’re Pack Haven?” she asked.

“Beyond the fact you’d know if I lied?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

She blinked, apparently the notion never occurring to her. Probably part of her overall rejection of the thought of him as a mate. Her next statement confirmed it.

“The mating laws may not apply to half wolves.”

“That’s a cop-out and you know it. It might not apply on my side if my human instincts were stronger, but between us, Rachel, there’s no human, no ambiguity. We’re all wolf. And if I were to kiss you right now, your arguments would end in a heartbeat.”

She took a step back as if he’d threatened her. Son of a bitch.

Josiah stepped in front of her, his canines bared. Son of a bitch. Even the kid’s hero worship was fading.

“Stand down, cub. I’m not going to hurt your aunt.”

Josiah just widened his stance and squared his little shoulders. All it would take was a flick of Cur’s hand and the boy would go flying. It didn’t make any difference to the kid; he was making his stand. Cur had to admire that reckless courage.

“Your mother told me you were a brave kid.”

The reference to his mother created the slightest break in the kid’s composure.

Cur fed into it. “She’s been very worried about you.”

Rachel snarled and yanked Josiah back. “Don’t believe him. He’s lying.”

“Are you?” Josiah asked.

Cur had to smile at the irony of that. “Yes, I am. I haven’t really spoken to your mother. I’ve spoken to her mate.”

Rachel blinked. “Sarah Anne doesn’t have a mate.”

“Yes, she does. My best friend, Garrett.”

“Is he a mixed-blood, too?” she asked.

Enough was enough. “He is what he is—a good man. Protector. And he’s already almost given his life twice protecting her. So the next time you speak his name, you can take the sneer out of your voice.”

She had the grace to look ashamed.

Josiah looked between them, not sure what to do.

Cur didn’t have time for this. Unclenching his fist, he pushed his hair back with one hand and with the other he motioned to the door. “We need to be going. Those six were scouting. There are more behind.”

Rachel sighed wearily. “There’s always more behind.”

He nodded. “Yep, you two seem to be quite the prize.”

“Why?”

He admired the way she was still gathering information just in case he gave her the opportunity to run. She wouldn’t get the chance to run, but he’d feed her all the information she needed to stay alive. “The best we can tell is leverage.”

“For what?” Josiah voiced the question on Rachel’s lips.

Megan.
The answer sprang to Cur’s mind, but he didn’t voice it. There’s only so much terror a little boy should know. And Protector or not, the kid just seemed too young to handle the knowledge that not only was his sister gifted and different, but she was hunted.

Rachel met his gaze, gave a small shake of her head. He didn’t know whether she knew the reason or just suspected from his hesitation it wasn’t something that should be spoken out loud. But he didn’t say anything, letting Rachel fill the gap with, “I upset some men and I think they’re after me.”

She had upset quite a few men. On his surveillance trips around rogue camps, Cur had often heard the venting of frustration how one woman could evade them so long. The ego that was damaged. The revenge they planned on taking.

“Yes, you have.” And there was one thing he wanted to know as much as they did.

“Now why don’t you tell me how you did it?”

Five

THEY were never going to talk about that. A half-human werewolf trying to fit into the wolf world would not want a mate who was more witch than wolf. After what Cur revealed, there was no way she could risk him dumping them now, and no way she would let him go off with Josiah alone. On top of that, she still wasn’t convinced he came from Haven. It was a little too convenient that her best friend was now the mate of his and she was now his. Things happened fast in the wolf world, but this was too fast even for her to believe.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cur nodded, turning Josiah so he could open his pack, checking the small stash of food and survival tools inside. “Anybody ask you that but me, and that’s exactly what I want you to answer.” Turning Josiah again, he tucked his hands under his arms and swung Josiah up onto his shoulders. “But when I ask you again, I’m expecting the truth.”

He patted her rear. “Let’s get moving.”

It was clever of him to grab up Josiah. He knew she’d have to follow. Rachel ground her teeth and fell into step behind him. “Where are we going?”

“I already told you. Haven.”

“Is my mommy waiting for me there?” Josiah asked.

Cur gave his thigh a squeeze. “Yes, she is.”

“And Aunt Teri and my sister, Megan?”

“Yep, and a whole lot of other people eager to meet you.”

“Other kids?”

“I believe we got a new family coming in any day now.”

“Boys or girls?”

Rachel rolled her eyes. Josiah was insistent about having a play-mate that was male. “I don’t really know,” Cur answered. “But I imagine you’ll have fun with whomever they turn out to be.”

“I guess.”

Cur turned slightly and looked at Rachel over his shoulder. She didn’t want to smile back at him but it was hard to resist. The man had charm for all he was an aggravation. She might even like him if he wasn’t claiming to be her mate. But he was, and she wanted to live in denial of that a little longer, even if her own instincts recognized his claim.

Cur held up his hand as they reached the bend in the hall. The scent of blood was strong here. He stopped, handing Josiah down to her. She settled him on her hip. Josiah opened his mouth to protest. She shook her head. One thing Josiah had learned over the last few days was when to keep quiet. He did so now.

“Company,” Cur mouthed silently.

Rachel dropped her forehead against Josiah’s. Dear God. Was it ever going to end? She was as tired of running as she was tired of being afraid.

For ten minutes they stood there. Rachel strained. She could barely make out the sound of footsteps. Cur was only half wolf. How had he heard them at all? After another minute Cur whispered, “Close your eyes, Josiah. Don’t open them until I tell you to.”

“Why?”

“Because I told you to,” came the absolute response.

And that was that. Rachel held his head against her shoulder. “Just do as he says.”

Right now Cur was their best chance of getting out of this alive.

Cur looked at her with approval. “Do you have a weak stomach?”

She shook her head. His mouth twisted. “Well, if you decide to barf, do it on the move.”

She nodded again. As soon as they rounded the corner, she knew why he’d told Josiah to hide his eyes and why he’d asked if she had a weak stomach. The hall looked like a war zone from a news broadcast with all the blurred-out parts exposed. She could see body parts protruding from rubble and as she stepped gingerly through the debris, her foot inadvertently landed in a pool of blood, and her stomach did heave. She’d never been so close to violence. She’d grown up the pampered daughter of a late-in-life mated couple. They’d loved her unconditionally, despite her odd moments. They’d sheltered and protected her and, when they’d died, left her woefully unprepared to navigate within a pack that had no tolerance for the curse her parents had told her was a gift. And the gift had just gotten stronger.

She took another step. The cloying scent of blood blocked out all others. She took a breath and then another. With every one her gorge rose.

“Aunt Rachel.”

“It’s okay, Josiah.”

Cur looked back. “Keep up.”

As if she wasn’t trying. She made a face at his back. Josiah giggled.

“You’re not supposed to be looking,” she whispered.

“I’m just looking at you.”

“Well, stop.” She pushed his head back down.

Up ahead there was another pile of rubble of jagged beams and broken cement blocks. It was going to be difficult to get across.

“Did you have to blow up the whole building?” she asked Cur as he turned and waited for her.

“I like to do things big.”

She bet. Balancing on a broken block of cement, she teetered. Immediately his hand was under her elbow, and immediately sparks skittered up her arm, lighting her nerve endings with pleasure.

Dear God, maybe he really was. What on earth was she going to do with that? “Well, next time, think smaller.”

He didn’t laugh. Just watched her. She stared right back, sick of feeling like a bug under his microscope.

“It gets a bit rough ahead.”

“Of course.”

No way it could be easy. She let him lead her across the pile, falling behind him when he let her hand go, telling herself she didn’t miss the contact. She watched her step carefully as she descended. When her sneakered foot touched the concrete floor, she looked up.

It gets a bit rough
. She’d thought he meant the passage, not the visual evidence of his battle. At first glance it appeared there was nothing but bodies, blood and entrails.

“Damn.”

Josiah’s head popped up. “What?”

She pressed it back down. “Nothing.”

“What’s that smell?”

She glared at Cur. He shrugged.

“The sewer backed up.”

“What’s a sewer?”

“The gross place toilets flush to.”

“Yuck!”

It was yuck. She stepped between the bodies, actually only three. Her first impressions of blood and gore was accurate, but now that she was closer, she could see the bodies, and these men hadn’t been weaklings. They were werewolves in their prime. And Cur had taken them out. Single-handedly. She glanced over. Without receiving a major injury. That would be a feat for a full-blood werewolf to pull off, but for a mixed-blood, it was amazing.