Mating Fever (10 page)

She sighed heavily through her nose, shaking
her hair out of her face.

There was nothing to do but wait and see if
Gabriel would uphold his promise to her. She just hoped he didn’t
do anything stupid--like getting killed before he could rescue
her.

The wry thought did little to ease the
tension cramping her belly. In all honesty, she knew she had no one
to rely on but herself. Smart people didn’t trust their fate to
others. The urge to let Gabriel play her hero and sweep her into
his arms went beyond tempting, but it was completely irrational.
More than likely, they were outnumbered, definitely weaponless, and
in the middle of nowhere.

She was going to have to get free by herself
and try to do something. She just wasn’t sure how much she could do
if someone didn’t come back inside ... and by then, it would
probably be too late....

Chapter Six

Nardo pushed Gabriel roughly, driving
him ahead to the luna clearing where the pack met each cycle, when
the moon sat fat in the sky and pulled them to shift with near
irresistible force. Gabriel stumbled from the forceful push and
whipped around, his voice a menacing growl, “You push me again,
I’ll kill you,
mon
ami
.”

Nardo returned his menacing look, his eyes
flashing in the dark, but he said nothing. He did not touch him
again as they walked.

Gabriel thought of Jessica being taken away
by that bitch, Lavinia. He hoped she did nothing so foolish as to
hurt Jessica, for if she did, she would regret it.

His fury rolled inside, like the flames of a
white hot blaze. He should have expected this. He had, but not so
soon, and not when he was with Jessica.

His brains fled to his cock every time she
was near. Had he gotten a handle on his lust, he never would’ve
been so foolish as to take her home, or any other place he’d ever
been. The pack could sniff him out so easily. He should have known
they were waiting to take him.

Gabriel felt like hitting something. His
fists tightened with the urge. He knew he’d soon have the chance to
satisfy the bloodlust.

They crossed the guardian-like trees into the
clearing, moving toward the center. Nardo parted from him silently
as they reached the center, moving back into the shadows of the
trees. Gabriel stood in the placement of the accused. A mark of
shame for the worst trespass on pack laws, the accused stood
surrounded by the pack, yet alone.

The last time the pack had met to try an
accused had been a few months back, when Raoul had trespassed into
vampire territory to claim a human woman for himself.

Gabriel had done much worse, and he knew it.
He didn’t expect to fair as well as Raoul.

He expected to die.

A dead calm settled over him. No matter their
decision, he would not allow harm to come to Jessica. They’d taken
her father. They would not take her too.

Regret left a bitter taste in his mouth,
vanquishing the lingering sweetness of her kiss. He’d wanted so
much more, and he had no right to those desires. No right to
her....

Gabriel angrily thrust the thought to the
corners of his mind, preparing himself for judgment. To help her,
he must remain clear, focused. He could not allow thoughts of her
to distract him in an already deadly contest. One false move could
prove instant death ... no chance for survival.

Yet still, she entered his thoughts. He knew
little enough of her, but even his limited contact had him
distracted to the point where he thought of nothing else. He
resolved to destroy those urges. He couldn’t have her, but neither
would anyone else. He would see to it.

He looked up at the sky a brief moment,
feeling the energy of the moon course through him. The moon shone
down clearly, gilding his muscles with silver, days from ripeness.
Had the moon been full dark, he would still have known he was not
alone.

Gabriel needed no light to see his brethren
move from the shadows and into the circular clearing, ringing him
until there was no opening for retreat.

Low, feral growls carried on the air, angry
rumbles of dissension. His beast tensed at their challenging
voices. The air vibrated with their energy, moving like chain
lightning through the crowd. His beast answered their challenge,
eager to face them, unmindful of the odds. His brain clouded as the
animal within him threatened to take control. It stretched inside,
uncurling through his limbs, making his muscles jump with power and
barely checked violence.

It seduced, promised the euphoria only
animalistic existence could provide ... the high of the fight, the
rush of wolfen speed ... the taste of kill.

Gabriel closed his eyes and gritted his
teeth, his hands clenched tightly. The lure was as seductive as a
woman, stronger, in a way that insanity beat the sane.

With effort, he fought it back, until he was
panting for breath. He opened his eyes and faced his pack as he
would an enemy. What he saw confirmed what he’d already suspected.
A shudder of remorse surged through him.

They were all naked. Ready to shift.

Ready to kill.

He knew it with absolute certainty.

More than anything, that fact brought home
how serious his situation was--as if he could have ever been in
doubt. And still, he did not regret finding Jessica, nor staking
his claim to her. He regretted not warning her away from New
Orleans, for not fighting her stubborn streak and getting her out
of the city while she was still safe. The warding medallion would
never hold now. It was a miracle the power had lasted as long as it
had. Without it, she would be in danger wherever she went ... any
place that neared a Lycan stronghold. She might not ever be safe
again. She needed a mate able to fight for her, able to secure
their place in the world. Perhaps an army would not even be
enough....

He told himself he could have made her go,
even though it was foolish to think she would have believed
anything he said.

The menace of the pack quieted as their
leader came forth, moving with stealth through the parted bodies
and into the clearing.

Gabriel faced him, shielding the anger from
his eyes, tamping down his sudden, fierce urge to shift. Gabriel
did not speak. Instead, he waited to hear what the charges were.
They were not animals--not yet.

Deron, pack leader, had forced them to retain
some measure of humanity in the pack structure. He’d ruled them for
over two decades, taken control when it looked as though the vamps
would wipe out their race entirely in these parts. They’d been easy
prey then, solitary. Deron had forged them into a group. Now
Gabriel wondered how far Deron’s humanity extended. Ideally,
Gabriel would be allowed to face his accusers and deny their
accusations, and would be granted a fair trial by his peers.

He nearly sneered at that thought.

They were eager for blood, anyone’s
blood--especially one who’d found someone precious and rare ... and
dared to deny them equal chance to pursue it for themselves.

The hunt for women able to survive Lycan
mating and change was fierce, and usually deadly for the female.
He’d heard of some Lycan communities to actually hunt their females
in a competitions of sorts, where only the fastest and strongest
won and the weak perished.

Deron raised his arms, quieting the angry
murmurs around them before he began to speak. “Gabriel Benoit, you
stand before the pack charged with attacking fellow pack members
John, Michael, and Cruz, and for claiming a female without fair
contest. How do you plead?”

“I am not guilty for attackin’ John, Michael,
and Cruz. For claimin’ the female, I am.”

The pack roared with disbelief, deafening him
with angry howls and shouts. A wind rose, ruffling his hair,
seeming to echo their fury.

“Silence!” Deron yelled above them. The noise
reluctantly died down. “Explain yourself, Gabriel.”

“I found the female held down by the three
members. Her legs were spread, and Cruz knelt between them, his
cock hard and ready. They were going to rape her.”

Cruz spoke up from his right with a nasty
growl, “She’s in heat. The pretty cunt begged for what I had to
give her. She didn’t want you--”

“Enough, Cruz,” Deron said quietly, cutting
Cruz off as effectively as if he’d slapped him. He turned his
attention back to Gabriel. “The attack was only in the woman’s
defense?”

Gabriel nodded, feeling his tension abate
somewhat. Perhaps he would be given fair treatment. “She will
attest to that fact if questioned.”

Deron studied him several minutes before
finally nodding. “This satisfies.”

The crowd rumbled, but Deron cut them off
with a fierce frown. “Do any here challenge my decision?”

No one spoke. “Very well then, my decision on
the attack stands. Now, Gabriel, what have you to say to the second
charge of taking the female without consent?”

Gabriel met his gaze steadily. “I am guilty.
But I will not allow her to be taken from me. I issue a challenge
here and now, to be settled tonight.” Gabriel straightened his
fingers. Claws sprang from his fingertips like ivory knives, dull
in the moonlight. “I will fight anyone here who thinks to claim
what is mine,” he said, his accent fading with deadly soft
menace.

“In his form, the challenge stands. No
shifting. Let it begin,” Deron announced and stepped back from the
clearing to watch the games.

No challenge such as this had been issued in
decades. The pack rumbled with excitement, the air charged with
anticipation.

Gabriel stripped his jeans off and flung them
away, out of the clearing lest they trip him in the heat of battle.
He waited for the first challenger, his beast rolling inside with
the expectation of tasting blood this night.

He gave in to it, the swelling power, the
quickening of his blood. It roared in his ears like a tempest.
Strength bled into his pores, stretched through his every fiber in
preparation for the fight. Some called the change the madness, for
it was like that, animal instinct blotting out the human half’s
rational mind. Even partial shifting was dangerous. He felt it now,
felt the call of the moon and the wolf inside burning to be
unleashed.

His senses heightened ... smell, sight,
hearing. The soft sound of crushed grass drew his attention to the
right. He shifted his gaze and watched as the bodies of his
brethren parted.

From the shadows, Nardo stepped out. He
looked bigger without his clothes, obscenely muscled. Naked as
Gabriel and black as ebony, he rolled his neck and shoulders,
stretching in a confident move as he strode cockily to the center
of the ring.

Gabriel crouched slightly, centering his body
as he tensed and awaited Nardo’s attack. Nardo grinned, releasing
his claws as he feinted at Gabriel, circling and feinting, circling
and feinting.

Gabriel’s nerves tightened, winding taut with
each false move. He bided his time, preserving his strength for a
long night, keeping wary. He knew Nardo’s style, knew Nardo relied
more on brute strength than skill. Even his size hindered him
somewhat, though Lycan grace had saved him before.

In a predictable move, Nardo suddenly turned
a feint into a full blown lunge. Gabriel caught Nardo as he hurtled
toward him, stepping into the move with a sweeping kick that took
Nardo’s feet out from under him and sent him crashing into the
ground. The ground ruptured under Nardo’s immense weight, grass and
dirt flying out from beneath him. Gabriel was on him before the
chunks settled. He straddled his chest, pinning his arms with his
knees. He bent low and pierced Nardo’s throat with the barest tip
of his middle claw. A drop of blood trickled down Nardo’s neck,
pooling in his clavicle.

“I won’t regret killin’ you,
mon ami
. Do you yield?” Gabriel
whispered with a deadly voice.

Nardo’s chest heaved with his breathing, and
he tapped the ground with his right hand. Slowly, remaining wary,
Gabriel moved off him and helped him to his feet.

Nardo shook the dirt from himself and strode
angrily away without a word. Gabriel had humiliated him for taking
him out so quickly.

No sooner had Nardo left the clearing then
the three youths came on to the field. Their hatred at being beaten
on all fronts was palpable, evident in the tension of their bodies
and the black looks they gave him.

Gabriel cast a questioning look at Deron.
Deron nodded, giving the go ahead.

They surrounded him, claws extended, moving
their hands constantly in a blur of motion to distract him. Their
claws cut the air with the sound of wood ripping on a saw. Whipping
the air with their own currents, they closed in, blocking him on
all sides. Cruz stayed out of reach, the general commanding his
troops as John and Michael converged on his flanks in a coinciding
rush.

Gabriel ducked beneath their swinging arms,
felt the sprinkle of slashed hair fall in tickling strokes onto his
back. Air rushed by his head. Talons dug into his exposed back as
he twisted.