The Covert Wolf (14 page)

She wanted him equally, but doubts niggled their way inside.

If she surrendered to passion, she’d lose herself and everything she’d worked hard to attain. Making love with this Draicon would erase yet more of her Fae side. She had to stay focused and alert, not give into this intensely sexual pull.

When she pulled away, he made a frustrated sound and rolled away. On his back, arms laced behind his head, he stared at the ceiling. His body was taut, his erection straining.

“What’s wrong, Sienna? Is it this place?”

She turned on her side, hot with unshed need, drinking in the sight of the layers of hard muscles beneath smooth sun-darkened skin.

“A little. I want you, Matt. Yet I’m scared.”

It took a lot for her to admit the truth. He turned on his side, propping his head on a fist, his expression tender.

“Don’t be scared, pixie. I’ll take good care of you. Is it because it’s your first time?”

Heat flooded her cheeks. “A little. I think it’s more because I’m afraid of what will happen. Maybe releasing my wild side. Wolves get a little wild in bed, don’t they?”

Matt caressed her cheek. “Yes. It’s in our nature. But I’ll be gentle, sweetheart. And you’re half Draicon. It’s only natural for you to release your wildness.”

“Natural for a wolf. Not a Fae. We’re rather…restrained.”

“Why can’t you embrace your wolf instead of running from it?”

“It’s easy for you. You get up in the morning, face the mirror, know who you are. If we make love, you’ll still have your identity. And me—” her voice trembled “—I’ll feel more lost than ever.”

“I’ll never let you feel lost, starshine.”

The deep velvet of his voice stroked over her sensitive skin. How easy it would be to lose herself in him, give herself over to making love and the hot pleasure promised in his touch. She wanted to believe him, but too many years of hatred and bitterness lay below the surface.

“You can’t make a promise like that. No one can.”

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked quietly.

She wanted him to leave, knowing it was best. But she wanted him to stay. The strange house, and the strange Draicon scents with their pull, calling her to surrender to her wolf half, made her lonely and a little afraid. Matt was familiar and she felt comfortable with him. Safe.

“Stay. Please. It’s a little spooky up here alone.”

“I’ll stay. Because you asked.”

He snapped off the light. In the moonlight he looked strong, certain and fearless. But she caught a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, in how he jammed a hand through his thick, dark hair.

Matt slid to the bed’s edge, turning his back toward her. Sienna ached to hold him, to draw close. Gradually she closed her eyes.

She dreamed.

Ghostly gray images filtered through a layer of mist insubstantial as wraiths. A deep lake, mirroring a leaden sky, ice floating on the surface. Trees wreathed the water, their branches stripped and stretching out like beckoning arms. She sensed the flight of small animals from something dark and sinister.

She felt heat, intense heat smoldering below the partly frozen earth. Not warm and welcoming like a hearth, but dangerous and volcanic. Sienna looked down and saw an area just below her feet, the size of a shoe box, glowing red.

Fear rippled through her, but she had to know. Had to see. Driven by a powerful compulsion commanding her, against her will, she dug at the ground with her fingers. She knew what this was, what it did.

Claws erupted from her fingertips. Alarmed, she tried to stop, but could not. Sienna dug with the claws, ignoring the small pebbles cutting her fingers.

Beneath the earth, she saw what made it glow.

The glow intensified, sending out a white-hot flame straight at her heart. She tried crab-crawling back, but it burned her, exploding before her terrified eyes.

The fire, it was burning her, searing her…gripping her with ironlike arms in its hot embrace…

Sienna screamed.

“Wake up, sweetheart, you’re dreaming!”

The smoky fog slowly cleared, the pain abated as she blinked rapidly. A nimbus of moonlight wreathed Matt’s dark hair. Warm fingers curled around her upper arms, digging into her skin. Waves of concern flowed from him. His scent was sharp and tangy, and somehow reassuring and familiar.

Sienna gulped down air. Her skin was cold and clammy.

“Easy now. Just relax,” he soothed.

All she wanted was the strong comfort of his embrace. Shaking wildly, her heart skittering against her chest, Sienna fell against him, her palm splayed against his broad chest.

“Hold me,” she whispered. “Make it go away.”

Laying a hand on her head, he tucked her against his shoulder and stroked her hair, softly crooning to her.

For several long moments, he simply held her, giving her the sheltering comfort of his strong embrace as if he could vanquish the fiery images. Sienna curled against him, her head pillowed on his shoulder.

“What was it, sweetheart? What scared you?”

Drowsy, feeling more secure, she rubbed her cheek against his naked shoulder. “Demons. They burned me.”

Matt made soothing sounds, but a nagging memory tugged at her. She had the oddest feeling the nightmare wasn’t only a dream.

But a memory.

* * *

Matt had nearly taken her. All night, her scent teased him, seduced his senses both as wolf and man. Took all his strength to resist rolling her over, lifting her flannel gown to slide his hand over warm female skin, teasing her senseless. Then pushing open her legs and thrusting into that heavenly, velvet warmth…

When he’d heard her scream, he’d bolted upright, his heart beating erratically. He’d soothed her back to sleep, gave her the comfort of his sheltering body, even though it was excruciating torment. Sienna had slept against him all night. Hell on his body, but she felt good in his arms. And it felt good to know she felt safe.

He’d have fought an army of demons to protect her.

Bare-chested, wearing only olive-green shorts, he stood on the porch. Gray light filtered through ridges of magnolia and oak. Inside, the family still slept.

Matt stretched, doing several lunges, making sure to warm up muscles that had tensed all night. Barefoot he stepped off the porch and headed for the forest.

Dewy grass slushed beneath him. He took the path in a steady pace, breath easing in and out of his lungs. Hard earth and decaying undergrowth crushed beneath his calloused soles. The call of birds in the trees overhead scolded him as he ran, the cool air sliding over his body.

He didn’t break a sweat until he’d cleared the forest and hit the bayou. A fine mist hovered over the swamp, cypress trees stretching out their ghostly gray limbs. Knee-deep murky water sucked at him. Startled by his presence, a dragonfly resting on a lily pad flew off. Matt slogged through the muck, not afraid of gators.

He was a far more fierce predator.

When he’d gone four miles and turned back, sunlight warmed the land. It felt good, pushing his body. Punishing, he thought wryly as he headed into the forest.

The woods were oddly quiet. A scent of hot, sharp metal and something burning stung his nostrils, made his eyes water.

Panting, he stopped and scanned the land. This wasn’t a trace of Étienne’s cooking grill.

He followed the scent, pushing through undergrowth and a tangle of branches, until reaching a small clearing.

Ringed by oak trees, a small deer lay on the ground, its eyes staring blindly at the sullen sky. Dead. No hunters did this. The magick shield warded off humans and paranorms alike.

Until now.

Freshly killed, the deer lay like a sacrificial offering. Matt took a step forward, then stopped. He smelled nothing at first but the tangy scent of fresh meat. Then his well-trained Draicon senses detected the faint odor of metal.

About two yards from the kill the scent grew stronger. Matt squatted down, searching the ground. A glint beneath the leaves.

Carefully, he brushed away the undergrowth, exposing the source.

Trip wire. His breath hitched. He followed the wire to a nearby pine tree. The earth looked normal, but he sensed newly turned earth. Twigs and leaves covered the spot. With extreme care, he dug, the metallic odor burning his senses. A splinter pricked his finger, drawing a bead of blood. Matt kept digging.

About a foot down, he found it. Strapped to four cylinders with duct tape was a small board rigged with wires and a firing pin.

Gathering his powers about him like a blanket, he let his magick swirl in the air. Then he cursed.

A dull crimson glow surrounded the device in response to the iridescent sparks created by Matt’s power. He saw the gears of the firing pin begin to move.

Gods.

Matt backed down his magick, willed it back into his body. The glow faded and the firing pin went back to neutral.

That was too damn close. He covered the device and backed away slowly. Then he turned and ran to the house.

The others were up, congregating in the kitchen, as Étienne sat on the porch, sipping a cup of hot coffee. The welcoming smell of chicory washed away the sting of metal as Matt leaped over the railing. “I found something in the woods. Fresh kill. Rigged to a little surprise.”

“What?”

“Trip wire, rigged to a stack of C4. Unexploded ordnance, hidden by leaves, very carefully. The kill looked natural, nothing suspicious. Set up to lure someone to the UXO.”

He wouldn’t have found it if not for his training. Étienne’s jaw hardened, his eyes growing steely. “This land is warded for miles.”

“And something very powerful infiltrated just the same.”

His brother-in-law pushed to his feet. “I’ll gather the other males. Show us where you found the deer. Rafe can disarm the ordnance with magick….”

“Afraid not. It’s got a web laced through it that reacts to anything magick. Diffusing it with magick will set it off. There’s enough C4 to blow up half the swamp.”

“Damn. Then we’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.”

“I’ll do it.” Matt caught his arm. “Wait. Has anything unusual happened lately? Any dark magick, any hints of something unnatural? Like a rogue demon?”

Étienne shook his head. “Gabriel and his mate, Megan, stopped by a few days ago. They’ve cleared the city and the surrounding lands, and our lands, of all demons.”

His guts churned. “Then they followed us.”

“They?”

“Pyro demons.”

From inside the kitchen came the insouciant laughter and talk accompanied by the clatter of plates, the smell of frying bacon and eggs. Étienne cut a worried look at the house. “Damn it, Matt. I can call Gabriel and Megan, they can flush them out.”

“And they won’t find anything. They’re playing with me. The deer wasn’t meant for me, or for Sienna. It was a direct threat to your family.” Matt drew in a deep breath. “The kids. These demons thrive on pain and suffering, not merely for their pleasure, but to distract.”

If one of the children had been killed, all Matt’s defenses would drop. Guilt and grief made a bad combination and would make him vulnerable to a direct attack. He’d become a sitting target. The demons knew just how to trigger his buttons.

Blood drained from Étienne’s face. He swore lowly, clenched his fists. “I’ll kill the sons of bitches.”

Matt squeezed his shoulder. “I’m sorry. The threat is here only because I’m here. Once I leave, they’ll have no reason to stay, especially since the element of surprise is gone.”

“It makes no sense. Why the sneak attack? If they think you have the Orb, or know where it is, they’d come at you, guns blazing.”

The realization hit him like a hard punch to his gut. “It’s not just the Orb. It’s personal. They want me to suffer first.”

Étienne’s blue eyes widened. “By targeting anyone close to you. And that pretty little Fae at your side…damn, Matt.”

“She’s a target, too.” He dragged a hand through his hair, glancing upward where Sienna still slept. “I tried to send her back, but she wouldn’t budge.”

“Tough little Fae. Then you have to be on your guard even more.”

“I will.” Mat set his jaw. But he wondered about Étienne’s advice.

Who did he have to guard himself against? Fire demons? Or Sienna herself?

* * *

Accompanied by male Draicon who scanned the surroundings as they loped into the forest in wolf form, Matt led the way to the ordnance. When they reached the small clearing, they shifted. Raphael, the immortal Kallan and death dealer, kept guard with his brother, Gabriel, father, Rémy, Matt’s father and Steve, a Robichaux cousin.

Étienne accompanied Matt to the site. The small, boxlike device sat firmly in the hole. Matt set his tool kit on the ground.

Étienne squatted down to examine it. “I can disarm it.”

“And you’re a father and will leave Cindy a widow if it blows. Stay back.”

“Matt…”

He tensed. “Look, Étienne, let’s not play macho wolf. You and I know this is no regular unexploded ordnance. It’s laced with magick.”

“Which is why you need my help.”

Both men looked up to see Sienna standing over them. Wearing formfitting jeans, a soft red sweater and a determined look, she crouched down. She’d scraped her long hair back into a ponytail.

“All the women are back at the house,” Étienne snapped. “How the hell did you get here?”

Matt glanced to where the other males stood guard. One Robichaux cousin was missing.

“Glamour. Your cousin Steve is still snoozing in his bedroom. She took his place.” Matt shook his head. “Get back, Sienna. This is too dangerous.”

The long fall of her ponytail swung as she bent her head to stare at the ordnance. Sienna reached out to touch it. Matt grabbed her hand, his heart kicking hard against his ribs. Sweet goddess…

“Get back to the house,” he ordered.

“C4 torch bomb.”

Matt’s skin went cold and clammy.

“How the hell did you know that?” Étienne demanded.

“I don’t know. It seems part of the dream I had last night.” She rubbed her forehead. “But I can help. Maybe it’s a Fae ability I haven’t discovered yet. Please, Matt, trust me.”

All his wolf and SEAL instincts raged to send her back. Matt heaved a deep breath, wrestling with the primal need to keep her safe.