Desert Wolf (17 page)

They scattered at his word. The poor kid who’d stepped forward tried to leave, but Claire still held him, so he remained. Cassius glanced at Sovvan and, in a lower voice, he said, “I’m going to send you with Trask to see Faust. Determine his condition. If you tell me…the perpetrators will be put to death.”

Her heart clenched at the abrupt offer.

“I may yet do it anyway, but your Hound is the injured party and you have the right to justice.” Then he caught her gloved hand, drawing her forward. “Trust Trask, he will protect you.”

Trask. The bald man. “Are you sure?” It wasn’t a question of his judgment, but so far his pack hadn’t responded to her presence well.

“Yes.” A hint of a smile softened Cassius’ mouth. “Trask is loyal and he has very few flaws except a penchant for thinking he can drink anyone under the table.”

“That’s not a flaw,” Trask protested. “That’s talent.” He bowed to her slightly. “It would be my honor, Miss Stark. If you will come with me…”

Trusting Cassius at his word, she nodded. Even as she left him, a hollow place echoed inside of her. The fun of the morning seemed already to be a half-fleeting, forgotten memory. The real world was a lot uglier and seemed a lot colder. Trask fell into step beside her, and no one blocked their path.

Glancing back at the gate, she watched Cassius approach Claire and the kid. The ferocity in the Alpha’s expression gave way to confidence, and he put a hand on the kid’s shoulder. Whatever he said, the boy sagged with relief.

Blowing out a breath, she turned her attention to the path Trask led her along. The damage from the night before was evident in the overturned and shattered carts, furniture and black-smudged stone.

One stolen night, and his pack nearly decimated itself in flames? She crossed her arms and tried to ward away the chill of apprehension in her soul. What horrible secrets did these people house? And could she really do what she’d promised him?

C
assius kept
his temper in check, though the leash frayed with every step Sovvan took. Trask would keep her safe. The bruiser of a wolf was definitely one of the toughest he’d ever met, but he displayed his aggression in defensive ways, not offensive. The worry blossoming in her natural perfume had set his teeth on edge.

The mob alone pissed him off. Add to the mob the destruction to his town and the attack on her Hound? Raw fury poured through his veins.

“Clark, you did good,” he told the kid in front of him. The stench of his fear left Cassius’ nostrils burning. The kid shifted uneasily beneath the grips Cassius and Claire had on his shoulders. “Look at me.”

The kid raised terrified eyes, and fresh tears spilled out. He couldn’t be more than fifteen. Too young for a Reaping, but old enough to consider what he wanted for his future.

“You did good. Owning your actions is worthy of respect. You should not have been fighting or responding to rumors. That said, you didn’t lie to me or simply say nothing.” As so many of the wolves in the crowd had done. In all likelihood, some involved in the fight saw their actions as defensive and themselves not at fault. Some might even be right. “You stood before the whole pack, and said
mea culpa
. That means something to me. Your punishment for fighting is to participate in the cleanup of the damaged areas. You’ll be paid for your time, and I expect you to report to Trask each day until the cleanup is done.”

“Yes, sir.” No hesitation, but for a brief moment the boy’s upset and fear diminished. “And afterward? What happens after we’re done fixing and repairing?”

“What do you want to have happen afterward?”

“A job, maybe I could train with Trask and his men…not for the Reaping, sir. Just—to do what they do. To protect the pack.”

Cassius didn’t smile. “It’s a thought. You might discuss it with Trask and your parents. Don’t get in trouble again, Clark.”

“I swear I won’t, sir.”

“Go on.” He released the boy and, after a beat, Claire gave him a comforting squeeze. The younger wolf shot her a gaze so full of gratitude and affection, the teenage lust practically overwrote every other scent for a moment. Then he was off.

“Babe, you keep turning on every boy you meet, and I’m going to have to beat a lot of wolves up eventually.” Tyler’s easy humor interspersed every word.

“You’re a big boy.” Claire grinned. “You can handle a little teenage competition. Besides, they need to be inspired and to know someone cares.” She sobered as she looked at Cassius. “Where the fuck were you, anyway? Taking off with that Omega? For what? A booty call?”

“It’s good to see you, too, sweetheart.” He opened his arms, and Claire stepped into them. The hug was short but fierce, and then he released her. Her mate didn’t even snarl, though he extended his hand and Cassius gripped it for a short handshake. He wasn’t embracing her mate. Embracing Claire publicly reminded them of her status. “Thank you both for coming. We’ll talk at my place in an hour.”

First, he would check on his town then on Sovvan. They’d put on enough of a show. The rest of their discussion required privacy. Claire and Tyler followed him to his bike. She canted her head, an openness in her eyes she’d not possessed during her previous tenure in Sutter Butte.

“Cassius, where do you want us to stay?”

He’d half expected Tyler to bristle at the question, but her mate continued to maintain a watchful air, scanning those nearest them. They were out in the open, standing before the fortress and exposed.

“In my compound. I’ll give you the codes you need to come and go. Once we’re settled, Sovvan will be your priority. She and her Hound are in the guesthouse, but I’ll move them into my place, so you two can have the guesthouse.” Until he stated his intentions, he hadn’t realized he’d planned on moving Sovvan right into his bedroom. He couldn’t.

“Not sure that’s wise, but we’ll discuss it later.” Claire understood enough.

Straddling his bike, he nodded to her. “Trask will be present, and I’m bringing Bianca in as well. Trust no one else.”

“That’s three more than I intended to trust anyway.” The remark lacked any heat, but rang of truth. Claire had fought for her survival. She possessed a perspective on his pack few others could possibly understand.

Nodding, he left her and Tyler to make their way. It was better that the pack saw her strength and his confidence in her. It would no doubt paint a target on her back. The moment Johnny Blaze learned she was there… He would warn her, not that he thought it necessary. Claire was no one’s fool. He rode along the cobbled roads toward his place, pausing only to survey the damage.

At Alicia’s burnt out coffee house, he frowned. It was time to send Maria away. If fighting broke out in Summit, all of his vulnerable would be in danger. It might be time to send all of his more aggressive wolves from Summit, set the time and place for the gathering at the site of Reaping early.

If he did it, that might leave his vulnerable unprotected.

Mulling the warring desires, he continued onward. After parking his bike, he checked on Maria. JoJo remained on guard, and she was fine. Leaving her to prepare for their guests, he headed for Bianca’s. It had already been too long, and he needed to know Sovvan was all right.

Five steps from his gate, the phone rang, and Brett’s number appeared on the display. Dammit, he didn’t have time for handholding the shell-shocked Alpha. “What?” he said by way of answer.

“Afternoon, Cassius.” It was late morning in Arizona which meant it was afternoon in New York. Cassius didn’t care.

“I’m busy. Spit out what you want or get off my phone.” If the damn Three Rivers wolves needed some babysitting, he should be calling Mason. The Hudson River Alpha hadn’t been the most involved during their so-called summit in Willow Bend. Rebellion in a pack could damage, a fact Cassius was all too well aware of, but he had little sympathy for the Alpha who retreated from his wolves.

“Fine, I’ll spit it out.” The snarl in the other man’s cultured voice signified a new level of engagement on Brett’s part. “Why send a wolf here to challenge me?”

Cassius frowned. “What?”

“Your man, Landon Templeton. Why send him here to challenge me?”

Who the fuck was Landon Templeton? “I haven’t sent anyone to challenge you… To do that, I’d have to give a crap who led Hudson River, and I don’t.”

A beat of silence then, “Do you have—or did you have—a Landon Templeton in your pack?”

“I have no idea, but tell you what. If he says he’s Sutter Butte, send his happy ass home. I’ll find out, and take care of the issue for you.” The last thing he needed was issues with another pack. He was already facing trouble with Delta Crescent, atop the problems within Sutter Butte direct.

Suddenly he was off speakerphone, and Brett’s tone changed entirely. “I had two Russians make a run at Hudson River in the last few weeks.”

Pain throbbed behind Cassius’ right eye and he paced away from the gate toward his house. Trask guarded Sovvan’s back, and she was with her Hound and Cassius’ healer. Claire and Tyler most likely headed in the same direction, so he detoured through house then up to his office. The upstairs half of his place was off limits, even to Maria. She respected his privacy, but he had a fingerprint scanner on the door anyway. Letting himself, in he walked over to his desk and put the phone on speaker once they were behind soundproofing.

“Only two? They tend to move in waves.” They’d faced off a Russian invasion years before, when Brett’s grandfather still ruled Hudson River.

“I know. Mason hasn’t been hit and, as far as I can tell, Serafina hasn’t either, but then again, she wouldn’t say anything even if she had.” The New Yorker wasn’t wrong. Their Bayou sister didn’t share much, no matter how much she chastised their posturing. Of course, he supposed it wasn’t posturing if she didn’t say a word. “These Russians came in via Three Rivers. I alerted Julian as well.”

“You all should have let me kill the interloper before she settled in.” It grated that they went the peaceful route. Of course, maybe they’d learned their lesson from Sutter Butte. It cost lives and blood to dig out an entrenched pack.

“Maybe we should have.” They were words he’d never imagined the Hudson River Alpha saying. Something had dislodged the other alpha’s grief and woken him up. “Have you heard from Diesel?”

“Do I look like the social secretary for the North American packs? I don’t talk to you assholes unless I have to.” In fact, he’d spoken to Mason just days earlier. So why hadn’t he said something about the Russians? Of course, he might have kept it to himself, considering the original reason for Brett’s call.

“No, but you don’t tell anyone anything, either. Like the fact you wanted to borrow one of Mason’s wolves.”

“She was my wolf first,” he answered, unlocking his computer and doing a search for Landon Templeton in the pack rolls. The name meant nothing, but if he were a submissive or non-fighter, he wouldn’t really have come to Cassius’ attention, especially not in the last several months since he’d began to cultivating his plan.

“Doesn’t matter whose she was first, she’s Mason’s now.”

“Did Mason call on you to fight his battles, Brett? I thought it was his job to fight yours.” The name didn’t appear on any census report for the previous five years. The counting of every wolf in Sutter Butte occurred after each Reaping. The families filed their counts. The healers, the teachers, and the Hunters verified it. It was one of the tasks which fell to his top-level people, though in the last year he’d had Trask and his men do it. “Send me a photo of this Landon Templeton character.”

If he couldn’t find his name, maybe he could identify the photo. No Templetons in resided in Sutter Butte at all, which mean the wolf had lied about his name.

“Hang on.” Brett covered the phone, then there was a murmur in the background before he came back. “You’ll be receiving it in a minute from Luc Danes.”

The phone chirped with a new message, so Cassius picked it up and flipped it to the messages. The image on the screen was of a rather nondescript, bland wolf. Nothing about the guy seemed remarkable at all. “You sure he’s a wolf?” He didn’t have the look of it at all, and the watch he wore was expensive.

And Swiss.

Sutter Butte wolves didn’t generally spend their money on frivolous things like watches. Light hair. Light eyes. Not a Garcia. Pudgy nose, somewhat misshapen—not Quinteros. Truth be told, he didn’t look like any of the families. “Tell me you have this guy on lockdown.”

“We do. He surrendered.”

“On an Alpha Challenge?” Disbelief flooded Cassius.

“Some people do it. I thought he was just trying to get away from your joyful personality.” Brett waited a beat then continued. “I’ll question him, but what does he gain telling me he came from Sutter Butte if he didn’t?”

“Dissension.” The last thing Cassius needed was border troubles, not so close to the Reaping and not with his plans coming together. “Sending a wolf to challenge you could be seen as an act of war. Then again, you know that.” Otherwise, Brett wouldn’t be on his phone.

“Exactly. So you could be denying all knowledge because you don’t want the fight with me.”

He laughed. “Brett, you don’t scare me. Never have. Never will. Your predecessors couldn’t take Sutter Butte, and you’re struggling to hold onto your own pack.”

“You’re such an asshole.” Yet Brett laughed. “If you wanted my pack, you’d come and get it yourself.”

“Damn straight.” He didn’t know the wolf, but it wasn’t his problem. “If you want me to deal with him, send him down here in about five weeks. Otherwise, just kill him and move on.”

“I’d like to know a little more about his plan.”

Whatever. “Then do what you want with him.”

“Thanks for your permission.” The dry, sardonic comment gave Cassius a pause.

“Welcome back,” he said roughly, then tapped his knuckles against the desk. “You’re a hell of a lot more interesting when you aren’t playing kicked puppy.”

“You’re still just a dick.” But at least he sounded amused.

“Well, why don’t you call Mason and the two of you can be all butthurt about me being a dick together. I’ve got shit to do.” Rising, he added. “If the Russians show up, call me. I’ll make sure to alert you both to the same.” He ended the call.

Russian Wolves. Goddamn Three Rivers. Some dick pretending to be from Sutter Butte and ingratiating himself to Hudson River. Rumors that the Omega killed him. Rebellion brewing throughout his pack… The headache behind his eye turned into a jackhammer.

He didn’t have time for any of that shit. Sending a message to Trask, he told him to keep Sovvan at Bianca’s or bring her directly to him if she was ready to leave. The other wolf acknowledged, then said she was in with the Hound. He’d apparently been more gravely injured than Trask let on.

Fuck.
Bracing his knuckles on the desk, Cassius went down the list of shit storms. Some he could affect, others he could only acknowledge. As tempting as it was to leave the matter of Templeton in Brett’s hands, he couldn’t risk the plan being a diversionary tactic by one of the wolves in Sutter Butte.

It sounded a lot like something Justin would do…

Dialing Claire’s number, he waited for her to answer. “Skip whatever you’re doing. I need you at my place, now.”

“We’re coming.”

Violence roiled through him. Someone had been sowing chaos, and chaos had been Justin’s specialty. He’d recruited Claire, brought her in with every intention of using her to further his aims. She’d killed him.

But Claire wasn’t the only wolf he recruited…

H
ours
past while Sovvan sat next to the bed. Faust lay silent and unmoving. She’d expected to find him awake. She’d expected to find him angry, yelling—all to chastise her for disappearing on his watch. When she decided to take Cassius up on the bike ride the day before, Faust had been angry. They’d known each other far too long for her not to recognize the signals. Yet, she’d ignored his real concern because she would be safe with Cassius.

I wasn’t wrong.
With so many wolves around who she didn’t know, she kept the words internal. When Faust woke—not if,
when
—she would repeat them.
I am safe with Cassius. It never occurred to me you wouldn’t be safe while I was gone.