Savage Sanctuary: A Dire Wolves Mission (The Devil's Dires Book 2) (5 page)

T
he so-called
road leading to the land owned by the pack was a snow-covered, hole-ridden waste of space that should never—under any circumstances—be called a road.

“Motherfucker.” Levi gripped the wheel tighter as he once again felt the tires slide into a rut. Or maybe a hole. Or a door to hell. How the devil did these people drive on this thing?

After another harrowing twenty minutes attempting to navigate his Suburban through trees growing way too close to where he needed his truck to fit, he managed to drive out of the death woods and onto what looked like a field. Covered in ice, of course.

“Wonderful.” Gritting his teeth, he drove on at a speed barely above tortoise. His truck still slipped and skidded, even fishtailing at one point. Eventually, after much cursing, tugging, and downright tantrum-throwing, he managed to slide somewhat close to the other cars parked on the ice. Not close enough to be considered in an actual parking space, but enough that he wasn’t driving another fucking inch.

When his truck drew to a stop, he threw the Suburban into park and let out the breath he’d been holding for the last two hours. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Good goddamn, he was going to have to drive back down the mountain at some point. Unless he could figure out a way to convince one of the pack to do it for him without making himself look like a chump.

Might be worth it, really. Not like he’d ever see these people again anyway.

Once he’d caught his breath and stopped wanting to beat the shit out of whoever had designed that alleged road, he hopped out of his truck, ready to represent President Blasius Zenne, the North American Lycan Brotherhood, and the rest of his pack by protecting this one. Not that he felt all that professional yet. It certainly didn’t help that there were a handful of kids on the porch of what had to be some sort of communal building watching and laughing at him.

“Where’s your Alpha?”

The kids giggled and pointed behind them before running inside.

Levi huffed and tried to hurry toward the building, his boots slipping a little on the hard-packed, icy snow. “Next time I’m in Texas for the winter, I’m shutting my fucking mouth about wanting snow.”

“But without snow, how does one know winter has arrived?”

Levi looked up at the large, blond shifter on the porch. The man was staring down at him with a smile, something that didn’t make Levi feel any more relaxed.

“By the calendar.”

The man laughed and shrugged. “True enough. I’m Abel. I assume you’re from the NALB.”

“Yes, sir. I’m here regarding your human problem.” Levi nearly ate it right before the steps, but he caught himself on the railing. What the hell…was this place made of ice?

“You work for Blasius Zenne?” Abel looked him up and down, seemingly unconvinced. Levi was a fighter, not an ice skater for fuck’s sake.

“I’m a Cleaner, so, yes, I work for President Blasius Zenne.”

A little lie, that Cleaner part, but one that could be forgiven. It wasn’t as if he could go around telling people he was a Dire Wolf. Besides, Blasius had created a special force of soldiers called Cleaners to be run by the Dire Wolves, specifically to help hide their lineage. Most packs knew of the Cleaners, and if they didn’t, other packs they might reach out to for information would. They were the soldiers of the NALB, and by calling himself one of them, Levi had just tipped his hat that he was not a man to be messed with. Now if he could only get on solid ground so he could stand up straight, he might actually look the part.

Luckily, Abel didn’t ask more questions. He simply nodded and opened the door, inviting Levi inside.

His guess had been correct—the structure was a one-roomed communal building. Most packs used them for meetings and celebrations, though some also used them for a schoolhouse or training center. This pack, with their numerous small children running around, likely used it for a school when not needed for meetings.

Abel closed the door behind them and stepped inside. From the back, another door opened and male shifters began to stream inside. Six, eight, ten at least. All blond, all tall and broad. All way too old to be adolescent. The sight hit Levi as odd. Most pack Alphas kicked out their adult males to keep the younger men from challenging them for position. This pack didn’t, and that fact would probably make Levi’s job much easier.

Or his ability to prove who he was much, much harder.

“You must be from the NALB.” A man looking a little older than the rest stepped forward, his scruffy beard and curly hair giving him the look of an aged, hippie surfer. By the way he approached with confident steps, his eyes firmly locked on Levi’s, there was no doubting this was the Alpha.

“I’m Cleaner Levi. President Blasius Zenne sent me to assist you in dealing with your human problem.”

“You got a team outside?”

“No, sir. Just me.” Levi nearly smirked at the doubtful expression on the man’s face. “I’m more than capable, but my team will be called in should the threat be more than we think.”

“Well, I guess you’ll have to do,” the Alpha said with a sigh that almost made Levi growl. “I’m Alpha Zuriel Bell. Allow me to introduce you to my sons.”

The man turned, giving the other towheads a nod. They all lined up in height order, Abel as the tallest at the head. Levi looked down the row of men once more, seeing the resemblances. The son aspect made sense, but good lord, what a huge family.

“This is Abel, Benjamin, Caleb, Darkon, Eliezer, Felix, Garab, Huram, Israel, Jeremiah, Kenan, and Lucas. And this man on the end is my beta, my nephew Roman.”

Levi nearly laughed. “Bible names for your kids and a Roman for your nephew. Interesting contrast.”

“My brother thinks he’s got jokes.” Alpha Zuriel moved to the head of the line, the biggest and strongest of the males in the room. Excluding Levi. “Being that we’re so close to a human travel destination, we’re quite accustomed to running across them in the woods or occasionally on our property. But this is different.”

Right to work…Levi respected that. “I understand you found a scent trail.”

Zuriel nodded once. “We did, and it circles our pack lands.”

“Fully?” Circles…as in surrounded. As in a net. Shit.

Alpha Zuriel’s brow lowered and the expression in his eyes grew hard. “As fully as one can get without falling into the gorge on the south end, yes.”

Being surrounded wasn’t good. Though humans couldn’t really fight at the pack’s level, they could still be a danger. Shifters weren’t easy to kill—pretty much only massive blood loss or a shot straight to the head would do it. But they could be captured, experimented on, outed to the world as something that actually existed. That was the last thing the NALB would ever want to have happen.

Levi needed to figure out why the humans would be out on this cold mountain, stat. And why they were surrounding the pack.

Levi had to ask the obvious question. “Could they be hikers?”

Alpha Zuriel huffed. “Not likely.”

“Not possible,” Abel added. “Hikers wouldn’t circle us multiple times or slowly move in.”

“Move in?”

Abel glanced at his father. “They’re getting closer.”

Levi’s mind spun with strategy and attack options. If the humans were close, there had to be a reason. Government operatives who knew what was in these woods, hunters who didn’t, sick bastards assuming this group of people in the middle of the forest were humans and, therefore, easy prey—all possibilities.

All things he was trained to deal with. “I’d like to check it out for myself.”

Abel nodded. “I’ll take you.”

Levi followed him through the back door and out onto a porch. The door opening to the outside was on a hinge that allowed it to be opened with a shove from either side, and the wall leading to the main hall was lined with baskets of cloaks. Levi’d seen this sort of setup before.

“Shifting space?”

Abel cocked a smile. “We had to add it on when a couple of our cousins mated to humans. Those women sure are shy about skin.”

Levi chuckled. In a world where clothes didn’t shift with you, nakedness was a normal part of life. “What about you? Been lassoed by fate yet?”

Abel’s smile fell. “No. None of my siblings or I have found our mates.”

Oh. Levi stripped quietly, folding his clothes and placing them on a bench along the back wall. Twelve sons and no mates. Not unheard of but, still, odds were that at least one would have found their fated match. If they ever left the mountain.

“What about your pack Omega?” Levi said as he readied to shift.

Abel shook his head. “We’ll swing by her place on the way back.”

“She lives on the fringes of the pack?”

“Not exactly.” Abel shifted, curling from two legs to four in a heartbeat. Levi followed, shaking out his fur before racing the other wolf through the door and across the snow.

The land rolled through forests and past rivers, rocks and trees breaking through the blanket of white to lend shadows and depth to the scenery. The icy ground was easier to navigate on four legs. Levi’s paws spread with every footfall, his claws breaking through the hard top layer and finding purchase with each step. He inhaled the cold air in greedy gulps. This was what he’d been missing—the cold, the snow, and the feel of winter in his lungs. Heat in the summer months was fine, but winter was meant for wolves in heavy fur coats.

They ran all day, sniffing and searching out any signs of humans. Finding plenty. For hours, they investigated the wilderness around the pack, Abel leading Levi through woods and over hills. The shorter day worked against them, as darkness crept across the land far sooner than either of them probably wanted. There was more to search, newly found trails to follow, but night was already on its way.

They circled along the edge of a deep gorge, skirting the drop-off and coming up over a ridge. The view was amazing, the sunset making the entire sky glow in oranges and pinks. Levi would have enjoyed the sight longer, but the unmistakable scent of human male seeping from under the snow caught his attention. The scent was heavier, darker, more concentrated than the others they’d found. This was a crossing point, a place of congregation. A meeting spot.

Time to go to work.

Nose down, he led Abel down a new trail, weaving in and out of the brush along the slight path heading east. The scent was stronger still, the men having obviously walked it multiple times recently. Hikers, maybe. But the terrain was rough here, the path barely visible, and the cold harsh. If the ones going through were hikers, they were awfully extreme. Yet there was no sign of climbing or camping, nothing but a path worn through the snow and foliage.

Definitely something not quite right going on.

As they came to a split in the path, Abel tried to head north. Levi guessed that path circled the pack land, but there was another scent trail. Weaker, perhaps older, but another path leading away from the pack. Something in his head, some whisper of instinct, told him that trail was more important. He yipped and headed along the new scent path, slowing down to a quick walk to keep from losing it. Definitely newer. Fewer men had followed this path, maybe even only one. This was a private path, a secret road to something important. He knew it…felt it in his bones.
This
was the scent trail that would lead them to answers.

But as they came upon the crest of the hill overlooking the far edge of a small town, Abel began to growl viciously. Head down, hackles raised, he looked like a beast ready to attack. An impressive sight to be sure. Levi, though, had no clue why, or what had set the wolf off.

Needing answers he couldn’t get with growls and chuffs, Levi shifted to his human form, crouching naked in the last bit of gray light before darkness swallowed them. Abel followed, the two breathing hard as they peered toward the lights of three small houses in a row.

“What’s doing?”

Abel growled again, pointing. “That’s my little sister’s place.”

Levi followed the man’s finger to the dark house on the far right of a string of houses below. Something about it called to him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what. “The lighter scent trail I picked up continues that way. Maybe the men are watching her as well.”

“Fuck.” Abel stood and began to head toward the house, something entirely not in the plan.

“Hold up, man.” Levi jumped in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. “We need to get back to the pack lands before we do anything down there.”

“What? I’m not leaving her undefended.” Abel growled and tried to shove past him, but Levi wasn’t budging. Not on this. His instincts were firing rapidly, telling him the house was the place to be, but he would not screw up this job by giving in to instincts. He knew the plan, and he would make it happen.

“My instructions are clear,” he said, pushing the words out to convince himself as well as Abel. “If a threat is present, secure the Omega, then call for backup. Obviously, my team needs to get their asses out here, but I have to secure the Omega before I call them. My only mission is to keep her safe. That’s what I’m going to do as soon as you take me to her.”

The need to investigate the house intensified, a form of worry or fear building in Levi’s gut. Something unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
Mission first, then house. Secure the Omega, then explore the situation with the little sister.
He couldn’t fail this, couldn’t let his brothers or Blasius and Dante down.

He would
not
let an enemy snatch this pack’s Omega.

Abel huffed a laugh, though, practically ignoring Levi’s declaration. “You’d better head this way with me.”

“I told you—”

“No, I told
you
that’s my little sister’s place,” Abel interrupted, growing louder and more forceful. “What I didn’t tell you is that she’s our pack’s Omega, and she lives alone.”

A
my’s meat
loaf was quickly becoming her second-biggest seller. The diner had been busy all day; not as busy as a pot roast day, but steady. She’d have to try another comfort food item for a special next week. Maybe chicken-fried steak or roasted turkey. The holidays were long gone. Her customers could be missing those fall smells. Definitely something to think about…after she closed up for the night.

Almost an hour after she’d flipped the open sign to closed, there were still people sitting in the booths and at the counter. A sure sign she was doing something right with her business. This tiny, vintage building where she’d set up shop had become her favorite place to be, too. It was where she felt the bonds to her community grow and strengthen. Where she felt she had a voice, an opinion that mattered. This restaurant was her home, and the customers her own tiny, mixed pack.

Humans and shifters alike visited her little diner in the mountains. The shifters stayed polite and calm, not wanting to upset the humans or the daughter of the local Alpha. The humans…well, they were a bit clueless about the genetic makeup of the people scattered around the cozy restaurant, but that worked in their favor.

There were five men at various seats when Amy grabbed the coffeepot for one last fill-up. Well past closing and still they sat, reading papers and books, staring at phones, or just holding on to a coffee cup and watching the snow-covered world go by outside her large front windows. She couldn’t decide if she should sigh or smile, though her lips were already pulling up. This was what she loved, the taking care of people, the building relationships and making new friends. But it had been a long day, her feet hurt from walking about forty miles over the tiled floor, and she really wanted to go home.

“Last call, gentlemen.” Amy circled the tables, heading for the few occupied seats. “Sheriff? One for the road?”

“Yes, thank you.” The big, burly man sat back to give her room to pour. He’d been coming to the diner since the day she opened, and she knew he was a huge reason why the other residents in town flocked to her as much as they did. Shifters tended to make humans nervous—the whole “no longer the top of the food chain” instinct kicking in when they met. But the sheriff had been unafraid, and he’d put the townspeople at ease with his casual acceptance of the place. He may have rubbed her the wrong way with his treatment of Yvonne, but Amy would always be grateful to him for helping her get started.

He took a sip and hummed his appreciation. “Good coffee as always, Amy. And the meat loaf was excellent today.”

She couldn’t have held back her grin if she’d tried. “Thank you. It’s a family favorite, as well.”

Big mistake, mentioning the family. She knew better than that. She was about to move on to the other customers, escape while she could, when he sat back. The look on his face, that inquisitive, searching stare, was not what she needed right then.

“How’s your family doing?”

Amy’s smile faltered, but she tugged it back into place. Sheriff Rodman had always been a bit curious about Amy’s kin up in the woods. Lots of townspeople were, really. And while Amy could see how her family’s life could be viewed as unconventional by human standards, she didn’t always like the tone people used when asking. They’d start off curious but end up almost accusatory. As if choosing to live a life away from the vast majority of the population was somehow wrong.

“They’re good, sir. I was just up there the other day, visiting.”

He nodded and took another sip of his coffee before continuing. “Must be difficult reaching them, what with the amount of snow y’all have gotten up there. Where exactly is that road to the property? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it.”

And there it was—the digging, the curiosity, the slight look of disbelief in his eyes. Sheriff Rodman had been trying to get information about her family’s place ever since she’d moved into town. Too bad for him she knew what he was up to.

“You’d never see it. My brothers really need to clear that entry a bit more.”
Not that they ever will
, she added silently. Amy didn’t miss a beat in the conversation, though, giving him a smile as she changed topics to one she knew would get her packlands off his mind. “I’ve got some meat loaf left over in the back. Would you like to take it to the station? It’s way more than I could eat, and I’d hate to see it go to waste.”

The sheriff rubbed the back of his neck, trying really hard not to look as excited as Amy knew he was. “Oh, I couldn’t do that. Why don’t you take it home? Feed whoever you’ve got coming around.”

More digging. He always did have to mention her living alone and the potential…company she might keep. But Amy kept smiling, confident she could throw him off the scent.

“You take it to the station. I’ll put a couple of plates together with mashed potatoes and green beans. Give those young men you just hired a solid meal for one night.” She leaned down and lowered her voice as if whispering a secret. “There’s even enough for you to take a plate home yourself. Meat loaf for breakfast is one of my favorites.”

The sheriff paused, the look in his eyes going from questioning to plain old hungry, and then he nodded. “I’d be much appreciative, Miss Amy.”

That was enough for her. She escaped his attention and hurried to the back to grab the leftover meat loaf from the refrigerator. Doors were slammed a little too hard, and the knife she chose to use to cut the slab of meat was a bit more than she needed. Not that she gave a shit about all that. Not at that moment.

Whoever you’ve got coming around.

“It’s whomever, you jackass.” Not that there was anyone to hear her correct his grammar. Or any
who
or
whom
knocking at her door. There were no men lined up to take her out. She was too tall by human standards, too heavy. And any shifters who came through the area were usually well aware of who she was. Or more importantly, who her father and twelve older brothers were. Her bed was as cold and empty as could be. But heaven forbid a woman live in a house all her own, one she purchased with her own money. She just might lose all sense of propriety and do silly things like have relations with men and—oh, the horror—have a real life outside of her work.

The knife made a satisfying thunk as she slammed it through the meat. Stupid, arrogant, overprotective men. She’d left twelve of them behind when she moved away from her pack—thirteen, if she counted her father. She certainly didn’t need the sheriff’s attention.

Once she’d delivered the meat loaf to the sheriff and wished him a good evening—breathing a sigh of relief when he left without another inquisition—she grabbed her coffeepot and headed for the last few stragglers, determined to have them out the door within thirty minutes. It was well past time to go home.

“Coffee?”

Gavin, the new kindergarten teacher in town, looked up from his book and smiled. He had beautiful eyes. A light almost-jade color that complemented his fair skin and hair. He’d be snatched up by one of the local single ladies in no time, Amy was sure. Especially being a teacher of such young children—the very concept of a handsome man with a heart for little ones was like catnip to the female population. But right then, he was looking at her. Smiling at her. And she just may have blushed because of it.

“One last cup if you don’t mind. I’m at the good part in this book and want to finish before I head home.”

“No problem.” Amy poured his coffee and hurried off, needing a little room to breathe. The man was adorable, nerdy and sexy at the same time in that way few men could pull off. He was also not her mate. As unlikely as it was for her to even meet her mate in a town this small, she still held out hope. She’d grown up watching her parents be deeply, madly in love with one another. She wasn’t willing to settle for less. And while Gavin might be fine for a night or two, there would be no future for them. So she’d flirt and harbor a little crush on the kindergarten teacher. And she’d wait for her mate to show up.

There was one last customer in the restaurant by the time Amy made it around the counter. He’d sat in the same spot every day for the past week, ordered the same food, and smiled at her with the same dark eyes. A nomad shifter named Zeke, the one who claimed to be passing through town.

“Want a warmer, Zeke?”

The shifter shook his head, holding up his cup. “This is good. Thanks.”

Amy was about to head to the back to wash out the carafe when Zeke leaned forward over the counter and dropped his voice.

“Really? The schoolteacher?”

Amy’s face grew warm, and she glanced toward Gavin before leaning closer. “That’s really none of your concern.”

Zeke shrugged. “I just figured a strong female like yourself would go for someone a little more…like us.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but what I go for is not that human. Gavin’s a nice man and fun to chat with. That’s all.”

Zeke grinned and gave her a wink. “Good to know.”

Stupid, arrogant men. Why was her world filled with stupid, arrogant men? “I don’t go for drifting shifters, either, Zeke, so why don’t you head on out to wherever it is you’ve been holed up? It’s getting late, and I want to go home. Alone.”

“Have a great night, Amy,” Gavin called from the door as he wrapped his scarf around his neck.

Amy stepped to the corner of the counter, putting a little space between her and Zeke. “You, too. Take care of those little ones tomorrow.”

“I’m out as well.” Zeke stood and tossed some money on the counter. “It was nice chatting with you, Armaita.”

And that was how he went from just a stupid, arrogant man to an asshole. “My name is Amy. Only my pack calls me Armaita, and you’re not pack.”

Zeke laughed. “No, I’m certainly not that.”

He left without another word. Without reaching for a coat, either. Stupid shifter. While the cold might not bother him once he shifted to his wolf form, the humans would notice a man without a coat out walking in weather like they were having. He was going to make people suspicious.

Ten minutes later, she donned her own heavy, wool coat, flicked off the last of the lights, and headed out into the falling snow. The town was blanketed in the cold, white stuff, the rooftop lights of the open businesses glowing happily beneath it. Main Street in her town had a charm to it few could rival, especially not in the current economy. But Hope Ridge had survived the big-box stores creeping into the area and the everything-for-a-dollar craze. Hell, they had even flourished a bit with the increased tourism in the area. Their business center was filled—not a single empty storefront—which was a fact Amy was proud to contribute to.

The walk home was something Amy loved, especially with the snow coming down. It was as if she were walking through the middle of a snow globe, one shaken up to make the owner grin while watching the glitter fall to the bottom. Her Jeep was awesome, but there was nothing like strolling the streets of her little town. People were friendly here, and the houses were beautiful. Even on her own block, with nothing more than three little saltbox homes side by side, the charm of the place radiated.

Her cheery red door greeted her when she mounted the steps to her porch, the glass dark. She must have forgotten to leave the hall light on. She unlocked the door and let herself in, tossing her keys in a bowl on the foyer table and turning the lamp on. Golden light bathed the wood floor and pale walls, giving the place a homey glow. Amy sighed.

Home at last.

She hung up her coat, kicked off her shoes, and headed for the kitchen. Not that she was going to make an actual meal. Cooking all day had worn her out, though she was a little on the hungry side. Time for her go-to… Popcorn and red wine for dinner sounded amazing.

But as she turned the corner into her kitchen, a shadow that didn’t belong caught her attention. She flicked the overhead light on…

…and screamed.