Big Bad Beast (26 page)

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Authors: Shelly Laurenston

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Paranormal, #General

BOOK: Big Bad Beast
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“First you seduce my young, hopeless, pathetic cousin,” Holtz accused.
Ulrich glanced up at the ceiling in confusion. “Wait . . . what?”
“And now you come here to seduce the rest of my family with your unhealthy food products?”
“Good Lord, man, it’s a sandwich not some Satanistic ritual callin’ up dark demons . . . which I wasn’t planning to do until midnight or so.” She glanced at Irene and added, “The witchin’ hour.”
Irene laughed and Holtz’s aghast expression had her clearing her throat and honestly admitting, “I find her amusing. But I’m laughing with you,” she told the She-wolf. “Not
at
you. That’s rare for me.”
“Out of my kitchen!” Holtz ordered. “Everyone out of my kitchen!”
Ulrich went around the kitchen counter and grabbed the She-wolf’s arm, pulling her out of the room. “See everyone at dinner!” he said before the door closed behind him.
“I like her,” Irene told Holtz and when he barked at her in outrage, she did her very best not to let more laughter trickle out. He was—as was she—getting older and she didn’t want him to suffer a stroke from the strain.
Missy Llewellyn lifted her gaze from the paperwork in front of her and blinked in surprise at the sight of her brother standing in her office doorway . . . glaring at her.
She relaxed back in her chair and asked, “What did I say to your precious wife this time to insult her?”
“You haven’t spoken to Dez since the wedding,” he shot back.
“Then I don’t know why you’re standing there—scowling at me.”
“I was going to wait to see how this worked out but I need to ask you something and you need to be straight with me or we’re going to have some real problems.”
Not understanding what in the holy hell her brother was talking about, Missy shrugged and said, “Ask.” So that he could leave more quickly.
He stepped farther into the room. “Have you been financially backing an organization that’s been trapping and using hybrids as fight dogs?”
Missy gazed at her sibling. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Yes, but I believe I must have had an aneurysm while you were speaking because your words made no sense.”
“Don’t fuck around with me on this, Missy. Seriously.”
“And, seriously, I think you’ve lost your mind. Just like our father, apparently.”
“Answer me.”
“No. I have not. It’s true that I don’t want mutts dirtying up the Llewellyn gene pool and I’m at least grateful for the fact that your bride is trash but full-human trash so that my nephew is pure Llewellyn. But other than those issues, I haven’t actively bothered with anyone. I have things to do. This Pride is not easy to run and I don’t have the time to chase around after genetic mistakes.”
“Amazing,” her brother said. “You managed to insult an entire group of people with your open hatred, while at the same time proving that you are, in fact, too lazy to kill off what you term ‘genetic mistakes.’ ”
“And your point?”
“My point is that you have a problem. Because someone is using your name and, more importantly, your bank account to fund this little operation.”
“That’s impossible, Mason. You know how I am about
my
money. And because this Pride belongs to me, it’s all my money. There is no way that I would not notice if . . .”
When she stopped speaking, Mace moved closer to her desk. “What?”
Missy shook her head, refusing to believe that what she was thinking could remotely be possible. “Nothing.”
“Like hell it’s nothing . . . what?”
“No . . . it’s . . . it can’t . . . it’s not possible.”
“What’s not possible? Talk to me, Missy.”
“No. We will not discuss this further.”
“You don’t seem to understand the situation you’re in.”
“What do you mean?”
“If it’s proven that you’re involved in this, one night you’re going to go to sleep and you won’t wake up again.”
Missy sat up straight in her chair. “And you’d allow them to do that to me? Your own sister?”
“No. But the people who handle this sort of thing know how to bypass people like me and Smitty. So if you know something, you need to tell me.
Now
.”
“There’s only one other person who has unlimited access to Pride accounts.
All
Pride accounts.”
He briefly closed his eyes. “Please don’t tell me it’s Allie or Serita.” Their younger sisters.
“No, no. Of course not. Like me, they’re much too
lazy
to do such a thing. But . . .” She swallowed.
“Who?” Mason pushed. “Spit it out already.”
“Our grandmother. As former head of the Pride, she has complete access and unlimited usage of all our funds.”
Mason dropped into the chair across from her. “Oh, my God.”
“This can’t be right, though, Mason. It can’t. It’s our grandmother. Matilda Llewellyn. Blue blood, actively involved in some of the most prestigious local charities, on the Getty and MOMA board of directors—”
“And one-time Nazi supporter!”
“That was never proven!”
They stared at each other again and then burst out simultaneously, “Oh, my God!”
“Okay, okay,” Mason said. “We can’t panic.”
“But what are we going to do?”
“What can we do if she’s involved in this?”
“Mason, she’s our grandmother.”
“And a sociopath!”
Missy pressed her hand to her mouth. “Could she really?” she asked around her fingers. “
Would
she really?”
“I don’t know.”
They were silent for several minutes until Missy finally said, “Do whatever you have to, Mason. I will not be a party to this.”
He let out a relieved sigh. “The first sensible thing you’ve said in quite a while.”
“Well, of course. I can’t allow the taint of our grandmother’s involvement in the wiping out of those genetic misdeeds bring down the Llewellyn Pride name if it gets out what that old sow has been up to.”
Mason threw up his hands. “Oh! Well as long as we have our fuckin’ priorities straight!”
“Don’t you dare curse at me, you motherfucker!”
C
HAPTER
28
 
R
ic found Dee by the lake on his cousin’s territory. She’d taken down a small deer, but she’d only gnawed on the remains a bit. She’d had a big early dinner cooked to perfection by Uncle Van, who seemed to feel the need to prove something, but Ric knew Dee wouldn’t miss the chance to do a little free-range hunting. She could have hunted with the Pack, Ric’s presence ensuring she’d be accepted at least for the few hours they planned to stay, but that wasn’t something she wanted to do. Like her father, Dee enjoyed hunting alone.
He dropped to the ground near her and waited. She lifted her head from her snack, tongue hanging out, blood covering her muzzle.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked, constantly entertained by this woman. There was just something about her. And Aunt Irene liked her! Aunt Irene didn’t like anyone. It was like evidence of God or something!
Dee rolled to her back, paws in the air, her wolf grin wide. Ric laughed and watched her roll back over and make a sloppy leap into the lake. She came out, shook off her coat, and trotted up to him. But by the time she sat down at his side, she was human again.
Ric took his sweatshirt off and helped Dee put it on. Even in July, the evenings were still cool in Washington state.
“That felt so good,” she sighed, snuggling up next to him.
“You don’t get to hunt enough.”
“There are few who’d say that.”
“This kind of hunting, I mean.” He studied her. “You’re glowing, Dee-Ann.”
“Am I?” She rested her head on his shoulder. “Maybe I am.”
Ric took her hand in his. “Talked to Van.”
“And?”
“He wasn’t too crazy about the idea of letting my father off to move to Colorado.”
“Neither am I.” She squeezed his hand. “But I do understand it.”
Ric cleared his throat. “He also wanted me to take over as Alpha.”
“And you said no.”
“I don’t want to be Alpha, Dee.”
“That’s your choice. It’s gotta be something you really want ’cause there will be a whole lot of kin more than happy to snatch it away from you if you don’t.”
“He was disappointed, though.”
“I’m sure, but he’ll understand. You gotta do what’s right for you. Being a chef, playing hockey, aligning yourself with the strangest people—that’s what gets you up in the morning. You take the Alpha position just because it’ll make your cousin happy and you won’t hold it for six months. And it’s hard coming back from that, darlin’. Even with family.”
“I know. Still, it was hard to tell a man I love so much ‘no.’ ”
“But he respects you as much as he does because you have your own mind and do what’s right for you, what’s right for your Pack, your friends, and the Group. Don’t doubt that now because you didn’t tell him what he wanted to hear.”
“What about you?” Ric asked.
“What about me?”
“Are you disappointed?” Many She-wolves grew up dreaming that their mates would be Alphas one day. But since he and Dee-Ann had never discussed it before, Ric didn’t know if that had once been her dream, too.
“Do you think
I
want to be an Alpha?” Dee
was
an Alpha; she just didn’t run a Pack.
“Your view never changes if you’re not head of the line.”
“We’re using quotes from T-shirts now?”
“When you include the visual of sled dogs . . . it works for this instance.”
She laughed, shook her head. “You can’t be Alpha when everybody’s damn near terrified of you. Not respectfully scared, mind, but terrified. Besides . . . I just don’t care. I care about me and mine. Anything else is merely a reason to ‘Start the killin’.’ ”
“Does your father have any other sayings?”
“None I like as much.”
Ric laughed, kissed her cheek. It had taken a lot out of her not to loudly thank the Good Lord that Ric didn’t take that Alpha position. There was always so much bullshit to worry about when you ran a Pack and Dee liked being the one called in when there was trouble, but otherwise was left alone to do what she liked to do. It was a relief to find out that Ric definitely had the same philosophy because he could very well be Alpha of the Van Holtz Pack—if that was what he wanted. He was wicked smart, excessively charming, and wily. Damn wily. And, of course, ruthless when he had to be.
She really liked the ruthless side of him.
She looked down at the sweatshirt he’d put on her. “I think this is the first time you’ve ever insisted I put on clothes.”
“Don’t want you to catch the sniffles, my spun-glass princess.”
Grinning, Dee got to her knees and crawled into Ric’s lap.
“Dee-Ann, you’re not planning to take advantage of me out here . . . in the open?”
“Of course, I am. I’m a Smith. We’re tacky like that.”
“Not tacky . . . inventive.”
She kissed him, stroking her hands down his bare shoulders and chest. She really didn’t know if she’d ever get tired of the taste of him. Like one of his New York strip steaks with that peppercorn sauce he made, the man simply tasted good. What did those chefs always say? “Simple, fresh ingredients make the best meals”? Yeah, that was Ulrich Van Holtz. Simple, fresh, and the best meal a girl could have if she was lucky. And apparently Dee-Ann was damn lucky.
She reached for the waistband of Ric’s jeans. “Lord, please tell me that you remembered to bring condoms with you.”
“I actually didn’t remember, but when I told Uncle Van I was coming out here to find you, he forced a handful on me and said, ‘For the love of all that’s holy do this for me!’ ” Ric nipped at Dee’s neck, licked her collar bone. “I’m not sure what he meant, though.”
“I don’t care what he meant.” Dee gripped Ric’s shoulders and shoved him to the ground. “Although I appreciate his ability to plan for the inevitable.”
Dee got Ric’s jeans unzipped and he’d kicked off his sneakers. She lifted her weight off him enough for him to pull the worn denim and his boxer briefs down to his knees. When he’d done that, she dropped back on top of him and let him yank the sweatshirt over her head.
Big, talented hands stroked her flesh while Dee took his mouth with her own. She pressed her hips against him, her pussy becoming wet and desperate. The two of them writhing, groaning.
Ric suddenly pushed her up. “Get that condom on me, Dee-Ann. Now.”
She snatched the condom he’d pulled from the back pocket of his jeans and tore it open. She rolled it down his cock and gripped the solid piece of hot flesh. She lifted her hips and put him inside her, allowing her weight to drop down hard, his thick cock slamming into her. They both gasped, Dee’s body shaking, her nipples tingling.
Ric reached up to her, his hands stroking her face, her neck.
“I love you, Dee,” he told her. “Ever since the very first time I saw you, I’ve loved you.”
And that’s when she gripped his neck with her hand, fingers pressed against major arteries, her claws ready to unleash at any moment.
Yet Ric kept his gaze steady, never backing away from what she could do to him. “I love you,” he said again. And that’s when Dee leaned down, unleashed her fangs, and tore into Ulrich Van Holtz’s throat.
Ric barely stopped himself from coming the minute Dee’s fangs dug into his flesh.
Barely.
But he held on for her. Clutching her hips with his hands, he thrust his cock up inside her, taking what was his while she claimed what was hers.
When she unhinged her jaw and her fangs slid from his skin, Ric flipped her over onto her back and bit into a spot above her right breast. A scar-free space that he’d been eyeing to claim as his own ever since the first time he saw her in a low-cut tank top. She cried out, the sound bouncing off trees, nearby hunting wolf kin howling back at another Van Holtz male marking his female.
Ric lifted his head, Dee’s blood running down his chin, and continued to thrust hard inside her, until her body shuddered and seized around him, her pussy clamping down on his cock so hard he saw stars.
He kissed Dee-Ann, their blood, like their lives, mingling.
And when he finally came, knowing as only a wolf can know, that he’d found the female who was the perfect fit for him, who would be by his side from now until their lives on this physical plane ended, Ric didn’t think he could ever be happier.
They held each other, the world around them getting darker, but the moon all wolves loved shining down on them like it was blessing their union.
Then Dee, who rarely got “caught up in the moment” as some She-wolves were known to do, realized something.
“Oh, Lord,” she sighed, pushing Ric onto his back again and stroking his hair. “How in the world am I gonna tell my daddy?”
Ric kissed her throat before looking her in the eye. “We’ll tell him together.”
“Because you don’t think he’ll kill you right in front of me?”
“That’s a big part of it.”
“Jesus Christ!” Niles Van Holtz snarled, stumbling to a stop when he caught sight of them. “First off,” he snarled, pointing a damning finger. “Outside fucking isn’t done until after ten o’clock p.m. When all the Van Holtz pups have gone to bed.”
“Then you shouldn’t have given Ric the condoms,” Dee kindly explained.
“But I told him not to use them until
after
ten o’clock!”
“True,” Ric agreed, “but that would have ruined the mood.”
“Get in the house,” the older wolf ordered. “We’ve had something come up.”
Dee sat up and Ric’s cousin turned away from her. “What came up?”
“Can we talk about this inside while you’re wearing some clothes?”
“No.”
He let out a sigh. “Just got a call from Mace Llewellyn. It seems Missy isn’t our problem, but Matilda Llewellyn is. Their grandmother.”
“Sure he’s not just trying to protect his sister?”
“Yes. I’m sure. Now can we discuss this inside?”
“What’s there to discuss? I’ll head back to the city and kill the old bitch and—”
“No. You’re not handling this. I’m going to bring somebody else in for this job.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t Mace Llewellyn a friend of yours?” the older wolf demanded.
“We’re friend
ly
.”
“You’re not handling this, Dee-Ann.”
“Still waitin’ for a why.”
“Because I said so,” Niles Van Holtz spit out between tightly gritted teeth.
“Look at you treatin’ me like family,” she teased.
“That’s it! Both of you get into the house, get washed up. You’re heading back to New York so you can handle something for me.”
“I’m killing somebody else?”
She watched the wolf take a deep breath, his cousin still buried deep inside her, Ric’s hands behind his head while he grinned up at her, Dee’s breasts still hanging out to God and everybody.
Honestly, she was having the best day.
Until Ric’s cousin looked at her and smiled in what was less than a friendly way. “In fact, Miss Smith, what you’ll be doing is extremely far from actual killing. But something tells me that it’s really going to hurt anyway.”
Nope. She didn’t like the gleam in the man’s eyes. But, to be honest, what concerned her more . . . if she or Malone weren’t doing this job—she just assumed they’d never ask Desiree to take it on—then who was?
Darla sat on her porch and stitched the pillow she was making for her Dee-Ann. It was too humid a night to sit in the house until she was ready to go to bed and it kept her busy. She needed to be busy at the moment because something was going on. Eggie had gotten a call on that cell phone of his that he never used and then he’d walked out of the house and gone hunting. That was a couple of hours ago and he hadn’t been back.
So Darla stitched and she waited.
Finally, she saw her mate lope toward the house, half a deer carcass in his mouth. He’d eaten the other half, but he always made sure to bring a little something home for her. Of course, she had a freezer full of perfectly good cow, but the gesture still meant something after all these years.
Eggie dropped the deer at the base of the porch and came up the steps. He stopped, turned, shifted to human and, naked, sat down on the top step. Darla didn’t start asking him questions because she knew he’d get around to telling her when he was good and ready.
After a few minutes, he started talking. “Need to go to New York.”
“All right.”
He scratched his knee and Darla peeked through her lashes at her mate. He was no longer the young wolf who’d sat outside her window night after night, howling at her, being run off by her daddy, brothers, and cousins, only to come back and start the whole thing over again. Strange, Darla hadn’t thought she’d ever end up with a Smith male. They were more her sisters’ speed. Lots of drama and arguing and getting each other jealous. Darla didn’t have the patience for all that foolishness. She liked things calm and quiet. It never occurred to her at the time that a wolf who had become universally feared, not only by his own Pack but by nearly every other, would be her mate. Especially one nicknamed Eggie. But he’d been the one and still was. And, even better, he’d managed to keep that delicious physique she’d learned to love all those years ago. The body was older, had a lot more scars, but still . . . damn.

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