Bayou Wolf (4 page)

Sighing, he shook his head. She really was a perfect match for him. “Yes, you did, stubborn wolf. I brought her, but only because I’d rather see you smile than growl…unless you’re in my bed.” Because Ty’s wolf rose and Cassius didn’t want to inflict any harm on Claire by killing her mate, he added, “Not that you’ve ever allowed me the opportunity to lure you there.”

The tension shattered on her chuckle. “My bed is quite comfortable without you in it. So, let’s go over the rules of this meeting, shall we?”

Yes, let’s.
He wanted to know the nature of Mason’s plans. Had it been left to Cassius, he’d have already slaughtered the Italian bitch and her upstart pack.

F
olding his arms
, Diesel leaned against the jeep and stared across the green expanse of the rest area. Located only a few miles from the Canadian border, the motorist haven remained empty, save for one family of six humans. At least it seemed only six individuals spilled out of the oversized SUV, as though it were some kind of clown car, and hurried inside to use the facilities. They made quick work and departed soon afterward.

The father cast a series of wary glances in the direction of Diesel and the three packmates who’d accompanied him on the journey south. The man was wise to be cautious, though he could hardly know Diesel wouldn’t harm them. Chowder and Grinder took up residence at a picnic table and played cards while Fluff prowled restlessly. Patience was not her strong suit.

“Sit down,” Grinder murmured without glancing away from his brother. Twins, Grinder and Chowder seemed identical on the surface, but the mirroring ended at their looks. Chowder grew into a gifted healer with extraordinary talent. Grinder, on the other hand, was the toughest Sentry to have come along in three decades. His rise through pack ranks bordered on Diesel’s own, though several decades separated them. A natural leader, a skilled fighter, and intelligent at reading others—Grinder would serve the pack well.

“He’s late.” Fluff continued her circular path. The tension threading her body reflected in her words. Like Grinder, Fluff offered strength to their pack. Her attention to detail combined with an almost preternatural awareness of the world and wolves around her granted her a potent skill for leadership. Even her impatience, a byproduct of her desire to complete the mission and return to their territory, could serve their pack well.

“No, he’s not.” Grinder replied, his offhand tone nearly as disinterested as Fluff’s vibrated with agitation. “We’re early. Sit down and stop growling.”

Her low, almost inaudible growl increased in volume. Aggression filled the air. Chowder set his hand on the table. “Full house. My win.” Grinder snarled but pushed the fries toward his brother. Twisting to study Fluff, Chowder gave her a slow smile. “If your headache is worse, why didn’t you tell me?”

“It’s not.” She gave her short snow-white hair a tug and stomped away from them. Her annoyance fluttered over Diesel like a mild irritation he knew he should deal with, but the energy it required didn’t interest him. Though his healer continued to watch the female sentry, his attention focused on Diesel. The skittering sensation of assessment rolled over him. Rousing long enough to meet Chowder’s gaze, Diesel didn’t disguise the wolf in his eyes.

The healer’s shoulders dropped, and he tucked his chin low. Too close. The wolf drew too close to the truth of Diesel’s choice. Him agreeing to attend Willow Bend’s summit surprised his pack. Selecting the three to travel with him put the healer’s guard up. Uninterested in the debate from any side, Diesel tracked the sound of an approaching engine. The vehicle sounded like a newer model, well-maintained, and it almost purred. His preference versus the higher pitches created by older cars or the rumble of muscle car’s engine.

The SUV swung into a parking spot a few yards from the jeep. The scent of strange wolf preceded the man’s opening the door. Tall, fit and wearing a cautiously welcoming smile, the Willow Bend Hunter exited the vehicle and studied each of them.
Smart wolf.
Fluff adjusted her trajectory to intercept the Hunter, while Grinder rose to his feet in an economy of motion. One moment seated, the next he stood between Chowder and the stranger.

Who would the new arrival pick out as Alpha? None of his wolves looked toward him, yet Diesel found the younger wolf’s attention lasering onto him.
Good boy
.

“Diesel,” the man said by way of greeting, an easy smile filling his expression. “My apologies for arriving on time and keeping you waiting.”

Almost amused, Diesel simply nodded. “You are Dylan Royce?” Hell, his voice grated, so rusty with disuse.

“Yes. On behalf of Mason Clayborne and Willow Bend, I bid you welcome to our land. If you would be willing to follow me, I’ll guide you to the lodgings we built for your stay.” So the Hunter wouldn’t offer him an opportunity to ride with him.
Interesting choice.
“I’ll be liaison for the duration of your stay in Willow Bend. Once you’re settled, Mason will come to greet you personally.”

Tired, his wolf perked at the order of events. They turned the information over in their mind. Finding no hidden meanings, Diesel nodded. “You will be staying with us, I presume?”

A hostage and a spy rolled into one. How would his Sentries react to the information?

Fluff scowled. “I’ll ride with you.”

Without missing a beat, the Hunter’s smile grew, and he inclined his head toward the female, though his attention never wavered from Diesel. “It would be my pleasure to have your company.”

Grinder said nothing, simply folding his arms. Loyal, confident and true, he wouldn’t speak out of turn. Fluff spared a glance at Diesel. She wanted his permission. Disappointment curved through him. For a spare moment, she’d allowed a glimmer of leadership to shine. Dismissing her with a nod, Diesel straightened.

“When do the healers meet?” He’d be sending Chowder alone to the meeting of other healers, trusting Willow Bend’s word to keep them all safe—and the fact that only the healers would be given the location of their conference.

“Emma Halifax, our healer, will contact your healer first thing in the morning. Not all have arrived as yet, so she would prefer to wait until everyone is present.”

Nice, he was not the last to arrive. “Who do we await?”

“Serafina Andre.” The wolf answered the question easily. “She is due first thing tomorrow morning.” And he’d provided more information than Diesel requested. The guarded look in the other man’s eyes returned, but his smile didn’t waver. Everything about him suggested affable, kind and trustworthy.

The power of the lie proved a testament to the Hunter’s disarming ability. Fluff’s earlier agitation eased, and Grinder’s shoulders relaxed. Another disappointment. They accepted the Hunter’s manner at face value.

They would have to do better.

Finished with the exercise, he said, “Give me specific directions on a map.”

Pausing, the Hunter frowned. “At the risk of offending you, Diesel. I would have to verify the request with my Alpha. To do that requires I use my cell phone.”

Genuinely amused by the careful wording, Diesel inclined his head. “Since you requested permission, go ahead.” He wouldn’t be dependent on only the Hunter for how to get to their destination. If that meant he had to put up with the infernal hum of the cell phone, then so be it.

The weight of Chowder’s regard struck him. He wouldn’t be able to keep the healer from scenting his Fade for much longer. Grasping the faint amusement to keep his wolf distracted, Diesel didn’t flinch at the cell phone’s noise as the Hunter called Clayborne. While the wolf was still mid-dial Diesel clenched his fist and let his claws bite into his palm—one pain to offset another. “When we arrive at our destination, you will turn the phone off.”

Dylan blinked slowly, but nodded his acquiescence. Bad enough to be so far south in foreign territory, Diesel wouldn’t compound insult with injury by listening to the phones all day.

Mason answered on the first ring, consented upon Dylan’s relay of the question, then asked, “Is Diesel still there, if you’re on your phone?”

“So far.” Caution marked the words.

“Diesel, if you would be willing, a word?”

Of course Clayborne wanted to talk over the phone. “Tonight, when I have arrived. Come see me early.”

The other Alpha didn’t reply immediately. Protocol demanded he greet the Alphas in the order of their arrival. The simple fact they possessed a protocol for these types of meetings addressed the delicate nature of so many Alphas in the same location. If Mason skipped meeting with another Alpha to greet Diesel, he might offend Hudson River or Sutter Butte.

Too bad
. Diesel was out of fucks to give on the subject.

“I’ll do that. Expect me at sundown.” The other Alpha ended the call. Either Mason already greeted their fellow Alphas or he didn’t give a damn about protocol. Dylan sent a message on his phone, then powered it off. The absence of the hum eased the stress on Diesel’s wolf.

After Dylan gave him the coordinates, Diesel slid into the jeep. The brother wolves joined him while Fluff slid into the passenger seat of the Hunter’s vehicle. He hadn’t even turned on the engine before Dylan asked, “Want to tell me about yourself, gorgeous?”

Fluff’s growl earned a faint smile from Diesel. Maybe she’d already scented the error of riding with the Hunter. Enduring his flirtation seemed a fitting punishment. The little things would have to do for the trip. He needed his Sentries to improve their performance if he expected either to succeed him.

The last thing he planned was to damn his pack with the Fade.

W
ith Trish driving
while Jerome sat shotgun, Serafina concentrated on going over the latest financial reports submitted by her accountant. As much as she despised math and spreadsheets, she’d ascribed to her father’s theory of putting in the hours and the effort to understanding every aspect of their holdings. Far better with figures, Etienne passed the folder over to her before she departed. If he scented something off, she trusted his judgment. Still, it didn’t hurt anyone for her to verify before ordering a full audit.

Next to her, Amy worked the crochet in her hands as though on a mission of vengeance. The blanket fell in wave of woven yarn to her feet. At the rate she seemed to be increasing the size, it wouldn’t be an afghan either. The numbers bled together like the hook and pull of the crochet.

“Mason, Willow Bend. Brett, Hudson River. Cassius, Sutter Butte. Diesel, Yukon. What the hell kind of name is Diesel?” Amy checked her knowledge of the Alphas awaiting them at the end of the journey.

“No idea.” Serafina shrugged. “I’ve never met him.” The total of the second column of figures seemed off when compared to the others. “Of the Alphas we’ll be seeing, I’ve only met two, Cassius and Mason. Cassius is an asshole.” She didn’t try to play diplomat. The man had been a force of nature and knew it. His attendance at her ascension might have seemed perfunctory to some, but she’d scented the predator sizing her territory—taking her measure—and she’d made sure he’d left after tasting her claws.

The weight of Amy’s curiosity pressed in on her. “We know Mason, too.” Yes, her people knew Mason. They’d liked him well enough, all save Etienne, but then her brothers never cared for any male she took an interest in. Etienne’s concern, however, ran deeper than simply disliking a male who’d caught her attention. “Is it going to be a problem, seeing him again?”

Pausing with her finger hovering over the second column, Serafina focused on the healer. “Why would it be a problem?” She and Mason ended their relationship on excellent terms.

“He’s mated someone else.” The care in her speech had Serafina’s brows rising. “They have a child together…it could have been you.”

Only the fact Amy’s genuine concern came from a place of love kept Serafina from taking a bite out of her friend for such open speculation. While Amy served as the
Traiteur
for Delta Crescent, their most senior healer, she was also one of Sera’s dearest friends. “No,” she said firmly. “It couldn’t have been. Mason and I were never that well-suited. Allies? Yes. Friends? Yes. Lovers, even, but to mate him? No, I was not the wolf for him nor him for me.”

The line of concern knitting Amy’s brows together eased. “So you have no regrets?”

Were her people truly worried about something so flimsy as time spent with a former lover? “None.” After marking the column, she sent the file back to her brother with a note to investigate why the numbers didn’t sync with the other columns. Serafina closed the digital tablet. “Amy, Mason is a dear friend. Our history aside, however, the outcome of this conference will not rest on the foundation of a relationship we ended years ago. He is Alpha of Willow Bend. I am Alpha of Delta Crescent. Our needs may not be compatible any longer. I will do what is best for my pack, and he will do the same for his.”

If it put them at odds?
So be it
.

Amy’s smile widened. “Good. I feel better. Regina really worried after the call the other morning.” Of course Regina worried. Best friends since they met as year mates, Regina grew up as much a part of the Alpha’s household as Serafina. The only reason Regina wasn’t joining them on the journey was Etienne’s discomfort with having the rainbow haired wolf too far away.

Sera planned to keep that piece of information to herself. Her stubborn brother and equally stubborn friend seemed oblivious to the wild attraction between them—until the other ventured too close to an unacceptable risk. Having Regina in another pack’s territory when Sera needed Etienne to oversee the pack in her absence proved to be one such risk.

“We’re almost there,” Jerome said, glancing at her over his shoulder. “GPS says we’re one mile from the rendezvous point.”

“Thank you.” The brother-sister pairing of Trish and Jerome were a rock steady foundation for their adventure into Willow Bend. The Hounds, like Regina, were some of her closest friends. Friendships, she’d learned since ascending to Alpha, were too rare and needed to be treasured. “When we arrive, I will meet with the Hunter. You will both look after Amy.”

Etienne objected to her only bringing two Hounds on the trip, but anymore would make her look worried about her reception. She preferred to have them guard the
Traiteur
. If Sera ran into a fight she couldn’t win without her Hounds, then she didn’t deserve her mantle of leadership.

Dislike shimmered in Jerome’s dark eyes, but he nodded his head without hesitation. She didn’t choose her Hounds for their complacency or inability to question. No, she preferred the strongest, the most determined, and she wanted their loyalty. Jerome didn’t have to like her plan to obey her wishes. He chose to follow her, he chose to pledge his loyalty—another reason she’d chosen him and Trish to accompany her. With nearly as much Spanish as French blood in their ancestry, the twins were both olive skinned with dark eyes and hair. They would bookend Amy’s torrent of red hair and bright green eyes perfectly. Sera won nearly as many battles with how she presented her people as she did with her pure strength and wit.

Mason’s invitation included an address just inside his territory. She’d half-expected a rest area, but it actually proved to be a cabin camping area—closed for the season, or so the sign stated. The SUV slowed as the paved road gave way to rutted dirt and gravel. Leaning forward, she scanned the trees. Her Hounds tensed with each bump and roll of the tires.

“It’s all right,” she murmured. “I’ll keep you both safe.”

Trish’s expression relaxed with a flash of a grin. Jerome snorted, amusement softening his anxiety. They didn’t like the unknown, and she could appreciate their concern. Unlike her Hounds, however, she wasn’t worried about meeting their liaison. Mason was an honorable wolf and she trusted his word. He meant her no harm, so she wouldn’t face a challenge until she walked into the conference with the other Alphas.

Fortunately, it would only be the Alphas present for that particular tango.

Slowing the vehicle to a crawl, Trish said, “Our escort is already here.” Ahead, parked at an angle was a red two-door truck. The owner of the vehicle leaned against the front, arms folded and his chin lowered as though napping. The appearance of napping and actually sleeping were two entirely different things. Amy’s crocheting ceased and she leaned forward, her shoulder brushing Serafina’s to get an eyeful of the dark blond male with a powerful build.

A broad face and square jaw kept his pretty down to handsome. The corner of his full mouth kicked up a fraction in a smile. Most Hunters, her Hounds included, carried themselves with a faint air of aggression. The wolf waiting for them seemed far calmer on the surface.

Who did Mason send to be her liaison?

“Wait here.” She reinforced with the order with her will and slid out of the car. A hint of rain perfumed the air, but the gray cloud cover remained too thin for more than some sprinkles. The cooler temperatures sent goosebumps racing over her skin. An unsettling chill curled at the base of her spine and raced through her system as though she’d encountered static. Even in winter, home was warmer than the wooded campground she crossed.

The waiting male straightened as she strode across the grass. His chin raised and she got a good look at the dark blue of his eyes when his gaze collided with hers. Strength pulsed behind those eyes—strength and something more. Her wolf’s attention snapped through her. The beast’s focus was so intense, she clenched her hands to keep her claws from extending.

Alpha.
The whisper of insight came from the spirits her mother communed with throughout her life. The powerful voodoo priestess took a wolf to mate then became a wolf herself. Though a turned wolf, Maria never abandoned her faith, and she’d passed her gifts to her children. When the spirits shared their knowledge, Serafina listened.
Strong. Tempestuous.

“Hot.” The last came out in a masculine timbre not remotely resembling the spirits. At her raised eyebrows, the wolf gazing at her blinked and the tips of his ears reddened. The faint scent of citrus, woods, and freshly crushed evergreens perfumed the air. Clearing his throat, the wolf gave her a half-grin. “My apologies, Serafina Andre. I’m afraid your beauty bowled me over and the filter between my brain and my mouth failed.”

The apology shouldn’t amuse her, so she schooled her features and waited. Power, tightly contained and raw, roiled around the other wolf. Trust Mason to surround himself with powerful wolves. It had been one of his more attractive qualities—a self-confidence he didn’t need to bolster by weakening the wolves around him.

“And apparently my foot in mouth-itis continues.” Clearing his throat, he shoved his long fingers through his hair and gave her a slow grin. “Serafina Andre, on behalf of Mason Clayborne, I bid you welcome to Willow Bend. We have prepared a house for you and your wolves. I will be acting as your liaison. If there is anything you need—
anything—
you tell me, and I’ll see it taken care of.”

Really? Taking a long breath, she tasted the combination of chagrin and lust in his scent. Mason probably didn’t choose him for his attractive qualities—or maybe he had. Serafina enjoyed powerful males. Narrowing her eyes, she locked gazes with him. Gold rimmed his eyes as though his wolf studied her. Her wolf rubbed against the inside of her skin, but she and her wolf came to an understanding long before. Serafina understood people, what made them tick and what would coax them into doing as she wished. Her wolf knew how to drop the hammer. They worked very well together.

Sweat dotted his brow and, when his eyelids dipped a fraction, he made a choice. Her wolf stilled, testing his scent, but Serafina ignored the decadent maleness of it. She had neither the time nor the inclination to play at the moment. “Your name is?”

The tips of his ears deepened to a darker red as the flush suffused his already tanned skin. The ruddy effect suited him. Her wolf’s claws raked along the inside of her skin, batting at the male.
Yes, he would rut quite nicely, but we do not have time for that.

No sooner did she dismiss the idea than she imagined what playing with the male would be like. She preferred a man to stand taller than her own six-foot height. Broad shoulders, capable arms and wide hands all made for a physically pleasing combination in the male.

“I’m an idiot,” he said with a self-deprecating grin. Then with a hand over his heart, he made a half bow, the gesture filled with a type of honest charm. “Please forgive me, Miss Andre. I promise, my mother raised me better than this. I’m Lincoln Buckley.”

Mason’s second was a Buckley. Mason sent his second to be her liaison? The delicate balance of power might be upset if the other Alphas caught the scent of favoritism. Setting aside her offense at being treated as ‘special,’ she folded her arms. “I would think Mason’s second had better tasks to attend during the conference.”

“He probably does, which is why I’m lucky to get the assignment.” Laughter softened his eyes. “A.J. is Mason’s second, and he is my brother. I fear I am but a carpenter and general handyman.”

“You’re not a Hunter?” The question slipped out before she could swallow her curiosity.

“I’ve trained with them,” he told her, earnestness in every word. “But it wasn’t for me. I do work from time to time, as my Alpha requests, but I prefer to build things. I give you my word, though, I am more than capable of defending you. No one will harm you so long as I can prevent it.”

So, Mason gave her a guardian who was neither his second nor a Hunter. A strong, capable wolf with a certain amount of his own force—power she could feel crackling against her.
That boy knows me too well.
Grinning, she extended her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lincoln. Since we’ll be spending so much time together, you can call me Miss Serafina.” Familiar, but still formal.

When his hand clasped hers, his energy surged along her skin. Her wolf wanted a better look, so she blinked once and his wolf gazed at them from behind his eyes. The animals measured each other even as she tasted his power. His wide grin grew and Sera chuckled, tugging her hand free.

“Yes,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “You’ll do.”

S
erafina Andre took
his breath away. Something about the way she gazed at him smothered his thoughts and roused his wolf. Regretfully—and thankfully—she returned to her SUV. They followed his truck toward the house built for their stay. A mile past the campground, Linc dialed Mason’s number.

“She’s here, boss.” He kept his tone even. Mason never mentioned how beautiful the Alpha was nor how her power illuminated the air around her until it crackled with her vibrant soul. The sense of her wolf’s study swept over him with such violent intensity, every hair on his body seemed to stand on end. Lowering his gaze took every drop of effort. Not because he didn’t want to rile her, but because his job involved keeping the way smooth for her while he wanted to drown in the dark, tawny gold of her eyes.

Remembering he’d called Mason, he cleared his throat. “We’re on our way to the guest house now. What time should I tell her to expect you?” Mason had to greet each Alpha individually, and he’d elected to do so on
their
guest turf as a concession, yet it also served to let them know they were on his land.

Too much politics and it gave Linc a headache. Mason and A.J. seemed to understand the game they were playing, and they’d discussed the tactics for hours with Ryan, Felicia and the council Mason put together. Linc followed orders and left the
whys
to everyone else.

“How far out?” Distraction vibrated in Mason’s tone. Was he meeting with one of the other Alphas? A yowl in the background came from a distinctly young and feminine throat. No, he was at his place with Alexis and Melissa. Alexis murmured to their daughter. Maybe Mason hadn’t told his mate about Serafina yet.