Strength of the Pack (12 page)

“A natural at what? What was all that?”

“That’s our connection. Our bond,” replied Noah, as if it made perfect sense. “That’s how we keep each other safe and happy.”

“When we have more time, I need a little better explanation,” Lucas said, glancing around and realizing the platoon was waiting on the two of them.

“When we have more time, there are probably a few things we should discuss,” Noah agreed.

“For now, let’s go secure a village.” He suddenly couldn’t meet Noah’s eyes.

“Aye, aye, sir.” Noah turned on his heel and strode away, calling out to Corporal Branch as he went.

Lucas crawled into his Humvee and reached for the radio. He hailed Captain Stanley and outlined their plan. Approval wasn’t necessary, but if things went to shit, someone needed to know where the hell they were.

Just before sunup, the platoon encircled the village with their Humvees. It was no more than a grouping of ramshackle buildings and flimsy livestock pens. The structures looked as though they might once have been sturdy family homes. They had since been allowed to lapse into such disrepair; Lucas wondered how some of them were still standing, let alone sheltering large, extended families.

The heavy gunners ranged their weapons on the nearest structures while the rest of them closed in, M16s pressed to their shoulders. With one last look around, Lucas saw that not even the penned goats or hobbled cows were stirring, so he gave the order to proceed. In a sudden blitz of sound and motion, Marines kicked in doors that were little more than cardboard. They shouted orders and instructions, forcibly shoved villagers where they wanted them to go, moving through the small village until they had entered every structure.

Lucas knew they were making no friends or allies. It sickened him a little to subject women and children to such rough handling. Their fear was obvious in the way they huddled in groups and clung to one another for protection and comfort.

The men were openly hostile. The young ones fought back while the older ones raged and swore. Lucas barked orders as his Marines segregated the men from the women and children. Very few weapons were recovered. It certainly didn’t look as though the village was harboring Taliban.

“All I see is old men and teenage boys, Sergeant Hammond,” Lucas said sharply. “Don’t tell me we rousted this village for no reason.”

“They’re here, sir,” Noah said firmly. “The villagers are less likely to be harmed out here, while we search the structures for hiding places.”

“Any ideas where we should start?” Lucas demanded.

“Grant, Hubbard, Chandler,” Noah called sharply. The three shifters immediately came to stand before him. “I smell them in the first structure on the left and the large one in the center. Any of you getting anything different?”

None of the werewolves disagreed with Noah’s assessment.

“Sergeant Fowler, take a team and clear out the hiding places in that first structure,” Lucas ordered. “Sergeant Hammond, you and I will take a team and clear the center building.”

“Sir...” Lucas sensed Noah’s protest before he even spoke it.

“I’m putting a lot of faith in the skills of you and your shifters, Sergeant,” he snapped. “So far, all I have to show for it is a village full of angry old men and women. I want to see just where these hostiles are hiding.”

“Yes, sir,” Noah replied smoothly. Lucas could feel the agitation rolling off of him, but he made no protest. Instead, he leaned in and spoke softly, so only Lucas could hear. “You stay right on my six, sir. I want you within reach at all times. Please.”

Lucas’ eyes widened, and his lips parted in surprise, but he nodded his reluctant agreement.

§ § §

They entered the structure, weapons at their shoulders, sweeping the room for threats. The building was being used as a home. It looked to Lucas like a large, extended family resided there.

Slowly, Noah led them through the structure and into a rear bedroom. Lucas was edgy, and he struggled to suppress it. He didn’t want Noah to pick up on it, since that seemed to be something that went on between them. Lucas wanted to check furniture, rugs and cabinets for potential hiding places, but Noah had a very specific destination in mind.

“Now I can smell a fifth one in here somewhere,” Noah murmured, as if to himself. “I just can’t tell where the fucker’s hiding.”

Lucas stood back and provided cover as his men moved furniture. Very quickly, they located something anomalous in the floor at one corner of the room. The floor covering didn’t match the surrounding material.

They suspected that beneath the covering, they were about to find a hole in which several subjects were hiding. They paused as a comm transmission notified them that Sergeant Fowler’s team had located two Taliban fighters.

That meant they were most likely about to find two people hiding in the floor beneath them.

Noah and Lucas trained their weapons on the floor as the rest of the team pried up the boards. They revealed two Afghan males, on their backs, in the hideaway. Both were armed.

The Marines all leveled their weapons at the men and shouted orders. Lucas desperately hoped that neither man would be stupid enough to point their guns.

Relief was palpable in the room when the two men surrendered peacefully.

Lucas watched as his Marines secured their prisoners and the AK-47s. A closer look revealed a cache of weapons also in the hiding-hole.

Between the two teams, they had secured four men. There didn’t seem to be any sign of the fifth man Noah was sure he could smell. Lucas relaxed his tension but not his vigilance. He covered his men as they pulled several AK-47s from the floor.

Something didn’t feel right. The hair on the back of Lucas’ neck stood up. It didn’t make sense, he knew his back was to the corner. There was no furniture, no entrance or exit. The need to look behind him was nearly overwhelming, but Lucas didn’t dare look away from the Marines he was covering.

A loud growl filled the room and sent a chill up Lucas’ spine. There was movement around him he couldn’t track before he was abruptly jerked forward to the center of the room.

Lucas fell to his knees, his M16 clattering to the floor. The Marines in front of him all lifted their weapons and shouted. Lucas turned to look behind himself.

He had trouble making sense of what he was seeing. Noah was standing at his full height, fist wrapped in a man’s shirt as he pulled him forcibly from a square hole in the ceiling. The man hit the floor with a loud thud. Noah pressed his boot to the man’s throat and aimed the muzzle of his weapon at his head.

Lucas gathered his wits and pulled several flex cuffs from a leg pouch of his uniform. He scrambled across the room to secure Noah’s prisoner.

“You were right, Sergeant Hammond,” called Corporal Chandler. “There were five.”

Noah didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed Lucas by the shoulder of his armor. “Are you okay?” he demanded, running his hands over Lucas as if checking for wounds.

“I’m fine,” Lucas gasped, ignoring the way Noah’s hand running over his body made him feel. “Where the fuck did he come from?”

“A well hidden hole in the ceiling,” Noah responded. “I
knew
I smelled a fifth guy.”

“I can’t believe I missed that,” Lucas ran a shaky hand over his face. This day could have ended in disaster.

“No, it was well hidden,” Noah insisted. “We followed protocol. He almost got lucky. I didn’t mean to be so rough. Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m fine.” Lucas bent to retrieve his M16 and reattach it to his battle sling. “How did you know?” he asked Noah quietly.

“I was still smelling a fifth guy, and you sensed something behind you,” answered Noah, lowering his head so he could speak softly as well.

Lucas remembered those strange sensations. “But how did
you
know?”

“I could feel you start to worry about what was behind you, so I looked.” Noah ran the backs of the fingers of one hand lightly down Lucas’ cheek.

“You looked because you felt me sense something behind me?” Lucas fought the urge to lean into Noah’s touch.

“That’s how this works, Lucas,” Noah replied, hooking his fingers into the webbing of Lucas’ armor.

“I still don’t understand how it works,” Lucas sighed. “But right now, I’m just glad it does.”

Noah took control of the prisoners, and Lucas left him to it. He needed to arrange for transport of their prisoners. Despite their mission, they hadn’t been assigned a gun truck, and there was no spare room in the Humvees.

Lucas ignored the tremor in his hands as he raised Battalion on comms. He was relieved to hear that Captain Madison was closest to their location. He didn’t think he could tolerate Captain Stanley right now.

The sun was just coming over the horizon when he spotted Noah, standing several yards away from the village, staring out into the distant hills. The lines of his body were relaxed, and Lucas could sense no tension or distress from him. On the contrary, he felt drawn to join Noah.

“You’re getting better at hearing,” Noah said when Lucas approached.

“Hearing?” Lucas asked in surprise. “What exactly am I supposed to have heard?”

Noah smiled down at him as if the answer was obvious. He turned back to watch the rising sun. “Did you know Joan of Arc had a werewolf as a companion?”

Lucas looked at Noah, confused by the non sequitur. “Are you serious? I’ve never heard that before.”

“That’s because it’s served our purposes to let you forget.” Noah’s response was laced with humor and arrogance.

“
Let
us forget?” Lucas smiled, allowing himself to flirt, just this once.

“You humans seem to prefer visions and prophetic dreams to the knowledge of a were-bond, so we let you have your legends.” Noah’s haughty reply was softened by one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

“You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?” Lucas returned the smile, his stomach tightening pleasantly.

“I wouldn’t,” Noah said emphatically. “Joan’s True Alpha was a werewolf named Yves. He assured her that together they could free France from the yoke of the British. When she was sixteen, they went to war together. Yves gathered intel, and Joan strategized.”

“Are you telling me Yves let his companion be burned at the stake?” Lucas asked dubiously.

“A True Alpha would never let his Dominant be taken captive, let alone burned at the stake.” Noah’s ferocity was surprising. “Yves was killed in the battle of Orléans. Our stories say Joan wanted to die. She didn’t want to live without her Alpha.”

Noah was definitely flirting with him, but Lucas couldn’t determine if he was telling the truth or not. “Is all werewolf mythology so sad and romantic?”

Noah shook his head. “Hardly. It tends toward the glorious and bloody.”

“So, what do Joan and her werewolf Yves have to do with this thing that keeps happening with you and me?” Lucas studied Noah’s handsome profile as he watched the sun rise over the mountains.

Noah turned to face him, his expression calm. “You led your platoon to a successful completion of its mission because you ‘felt something.’ Makes more sense than hearing voices and seeing visions, don’t you think?”

Lucas snorted derisively. “You’re not comparing me to Joan of Arc, are you?”

Noah gave him an exaggerated frown. “Last time I checked we weren’t in France. I’m just pointing out that you have a pretty powerful tool at your disposal.”

Lucas didn’t understand any more than he had before. It didn’t seem that Noah was being evasive, but it was frustrating that he was less than direct.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” he said, still not sure Noah wasn’t secretly laughing at him “In any event, Echo company is coming to transport our prisoners in a gun truck.”

Noah gave a sharp nod of understanding. Lucas had no idea what to say next so he returned the nod and turned to go.

“Lucas,” Noah called.

Looking up at Noah expectantly, Lucas returned to stand in front of him. He was startled when Noah reached out and cradled his head. Reflexively, he gripped Noah’s biceps and leaned into the press of Noah’s lips against his hair.

“I didn’t mean to knock you down earlier, but I wanted you out of the way,” Noah whispered against Lucas’ temple.

“Next time, shout a warning,” Lucas chuckled. “I am a Marine, too, after all. I
can
take care of myself.”

“But you’re not a werewolf, and it was the werewolf part of me that was protecting you.” Noah’s breath was warm against Lucas’ hair.

He could hear Noah taking deep breaths. He definitely had a thing for scent. Lucas let Noah indulge himself since it always seemed to calm and steady him. Even as he thought this, Lucas’ own tension eased.

He heard Noah sigh and felt him start to pull back.

“You need to get our prisoners ready for transport,” Lucas said, surprised to hear the rough tone of his own voice.