Wolf Tales 12 (15 page)

Even the pines looked wilted, unusual in this normally lush valley in Maine. The sun beat down on the grassy front yard, which was the only patch of green in the entire meadow. Jake had put up a shade over the area where the kids played in the water in their little plastic pool to keep their fair skin from burning, but it didn’t do much to cut the heat.

Even though two of the four oldest were girls, Jake and Bay still referred to the kids as the little Irishmen. Bay’s six-month-old Donovan was going to look just like the others, with his pink cheeks and strawberry blond hair.

Bay leaned back in his lawn chair with his feet in the kiddy pool and reached for the cold beer Jake handed to him, but he was obviously keeping a close watch on his four-year-old son, Keegan, who splashed with true abandon in the foot of water filling the pool. He and Jake’s son Connor were doing their best to irritate the girls, but Kiera and Rowan had already learned how to drive the boys nuts.

They ignored them.

“D’ya think they’ll ever figure it out?” Jake took the chair beside Bay and stuck his feet in the water. It felt absolutely wonderful.

“What? That the girls are playing them?”

“Exactly.” Jake took a sip of his beer and glanced at the driveway. “Poor guys haven’t got a clue or a prayer. Which reminds me—wonder when Shannon and Manda will be back?”

Bay laughed. “This clueless male figures it shouldn’t be too much longer. The baby’ll be waking up any time now. Manda’s going to be more than ready to feed the ravening beast.”

“I checked on him.” Jake glared at Connor just as he prepared to dunk Kiera. Flashing his daddy an innocent
Who? Me?
look, Connor poured the bucket of water over his own head. Jake bit back a grin and hid it in another swallow of cold beer.

Raising triplets certainly hadn’t been on the radar the night of the attempted presidential assassination, when he and Shannon had finally managed to conceive. Now he could barely remember what life had been like before the babies were born.

They’d just turned four a little over a month ago—two beautiful little girls and one wild little boy who, as Shannon often reminded Jake, was very much his father’s son.

Bay and Manda had Keegan, just a week older than Jake and Shannon’s three, and little Donovan who, at six months, was the spitting image of Manda’s twin brother, his uncle Adam. Everyone joked about their growing herd of Irishmen, but life was good. Hectic, but good.

Especially when they were able to start the morning off the way they had today. Watching Shannon and Manda was something Jake knew he’d never grow tired of. As the image of his beautiful wife pleasuring her lover filled his senses, Shannon’s voice was suddenly in his head. Jake sat up and glanced at Baylor. Bay’s attention was riveted on the long driveway leading to the main road.

We’ve got poachers on the property. Two men, heavily armed, wearing camo. They’re parked off the road a couple hundred yards north of the main gate. We just got a glimpse of them going under the fence where it cuts across the creek bed.

The kids are in the pool. Donovan’s still asleep. We’ll get rid of the bastards as soon as you’re here.

Two more minutes.

“Did you get all that?” Jake glanced at Bay, speaking in a low voice so the kids wouldn’t hear.

Bay nodded. “Should we call it in?”

“Yeah, but it won’t do any good. The sheriff’s department is so understaffed, I doubt we’d get a deputy out here in time—unless we catch them first.”

“Wanna go for a run?” Baylor’s grin suggested he was thinking of more than mere exercise.

Jake laughed. “And then what? Accost them naked?”

“Why not? It’d definitely get their attention.” Bay shook his head. “We’ve got enough clothing cached around the property that I’m sure we can find something to wear before we detain the bastards. I’m getting damned tired of this. We’ve had what? Six poachers in the past couple of weeks? Idiots shooting their high-caliber guns and they don’t even think of the fact we’ve got little ones here.”

“We need to do something, that’s for sure. I think the sheriff’s department is getting tired of the calls, too, but they sure haven’t offered any suggestions. There’re the girls.” Jake pointed toward the oncoming SUV and splashed his feet in the water to get the kids’ attention. “Hey, guys! Looks like the mommies are home.”

Baylor trotted behind Jake, following a narrow trail that ran along a sharp ridge. They’d heard the men talking and knew exactly where they were set up, in a sheltered grove of trees near a small, spring-fed pond.

Obviously they’d been here before if they knew the area this well, which made him even angrier. He and Jake had fenced the entire property and posted it heavily with no trespassing and no hunting signs, but sometimes Bay felt as if the damned signs acted more as an invitation than a deterrent.

The truth was, this whole area had grown crowded over the past couple of years and they’d had to deal with more trespassers than ever before. Where they’d once been miles from the closest neighbor, they now had homes almost within hailing distance. Jake’s piece of property was huge, but obviously not big enough for the kind of privacy they needed.

Wolves needed a lot of room to run.

And if what Anton said was true, they were going to have a good-sized pack long before they’d ever imagined if their kids were only a couple of years away from shifting. How crowded would their country retreat be by then? How dangerous?

Anton Cheval’s suggestion that they consider a move to his huge Montana spread was beginning to look more inviting all the time.

In the meantime, the two bozos drinking beer and smoking cigarettes in the dry grass were breaking the law—they were trespassing where they didn’t belong, carrying guns in an area marked as no hunting. Bay imagined all sorts of things he’d love to do with them—things involving his sharp canines and the predatory instincts that hovered much too close beneath his civilized veneer, but he’d have to maintain control. This was, after all, Jake’s land.

Therefore, it would have to be Jake’s decision. Bay could handle that—they were always on the same page with decisions and they’d never had any of the alpha male issues Anton had warned them about. At least, not since Bay had turned away from his undercover work for the government and given his loyalty to Jake and the rest of the Chanku.

His loyalty, his heart, and if it were ever necessary, his life. All forfeit without fear to keep the pack and his family safe. Carefully controlling the anger beating at the feral part of his mind, Baylor quietly deferred to his lover.

Chapter 11

You wanna play the pissed-off human or should I?

Jake snorted at Bay’s offhand comment. Obviously, the situation wasn’t at all funny, but they’d both reached the point where if they didn’t look for the humor, they’d rip into these two jerks and then have to deal with the fallout once the sheriff’s deputy arrived.

Finding humor in trespassers coming onto their property with guns didn’t entirely control the anger, but explaining two idiots killed by the wolves Baylor and Jake were known to keep as guard animals would raise more red flags than Jake was ready to deal with. Still, anger boiled hot and ripe through his blood. It felt so good to let it roll free for a while. Felt good to imagine the way the hot blood would taste were he to sink his teeth into that big guy’s throat and just rip away.

What it would feel like if he latched onto the smaller guy and did some serious chewing, if . . . oh shit. He was drooling all over himself.

Bay head-butted him.
Why don’t you play the big, bad wolf? You’re slobbering. It makes you look rabid. Personally, I think it’s very effective.

Smart-ass.
Jake licked his muzzle and found a shady spot where he could watch the two men unobserved, raised his head, and stared at Bay.
Go for it. Jeans and sandals in the cache.

Bay trotted straight to a long-ago fallen tree and dug in the soft dirt beneath it. After a moment he stuck his nose in the hole and came out with a waterproof duffel bag. As soon as he’d dragged it free, he shifted, unzipped the bag, and pulled out a pair of worn jeans and comfortable sandals.

Moments later, Baylor looked like any other local guy out walking his land, comfortably clad yet shirtless in the warm afternoon sun. Well, not entirely like any other, Jake thought, studying the tall, darkly beautiful man he loved. There was no one else quite like Bay, all lean, dangerous lines and piercing eyes—and a heart as pure and loving as any he’d ever known.

“You ready?” Bay glanced at Jake. There was an unmistakable grimness to the line of his jaw, the tension in his lean body. It didn’t bode well for the trespassers. They were a threat to his family, to his beloved wife, to his pack.

Jake understood. He felt exactly the same way. And now, standing beside Bay, who remained in his human form, Jake let his feral instincts come to the surface. He glanced in the direction of the trespassers and snarled.

Then he rose and trotted alongside Bay. Taking a deep, calming breath, Jake inhaled the scent of Bay’s anger, an acrid odor almost hidden in the rich blend of man and clean sweat and hot sex he wore like an aura. The guy had a body like a god, his sensuality so much a part of him that Jake had to force his mind away from sex and back to the problem at hand.

With Bay taking point, they crept quietly along a trail leading to a spot directly above the two men. Bay waited until Jake was beside him.
You disarm the little guy on the right. I’ll take the big guy. Be careful. No teeth marks.

The men sat on small folding chairs in a homemade blind about five feet below the rock shelf Bay and Jake stood upon. Their chosen perch gave them a perfect vantage of the small pond that was a popular watering hole for the wildlife in the area.

The men’s voices carried clearly, and already the ground was littered with empty beer cans, cigarette butts, and other trash. It was obvious from the mess and their conversation they’d hunted here before, which explained the fresh deer carcass Manda and Shannon had found a couple of days ago. These jerks hadn’t even taken the time to track the wounded doe. She’d bled to death, not far from the house.

Jake had to consciously suppress the snarl that fought for release. No teeth marks? He wasn’t going to promise. He sniffed the air and immediately recognized the rich scent of natural prey.
We need to move now. Smells like a doe with at least one fawn coming to the water. I don’t want them to shoot her.

Baylor nodded.
Now!

Jake leapt from the rocky ledge and hit the smaller man in the middle of his back. The rifle went flying, the folding chair collapsed, and the man went down, screaming. Bay jumped at the same time and landed on the big guy. Jake heard his muffled curse as the man’s chair folded beneath him and he hit the ground hard. Bay rolled away and came up with the man’s rifle in his hands.

Jake snarled and lunged at the smaller man, who screamed again and tried to hide behind his friend. The big guy stumbled to his feet, shaking his head like an angry bear.

“What the fuck do you think you—”

“Shut up.” Bay pointed the barrel of the Remington .30-06 at the man’s rather large belly. “You’re trespassing. Can’t you idiots read? This is private property.”

Jake snarled and flattened his ears to his skull. Both men stared at him, wide-eyed. “I’ve called the sheriff,” Bay said. He waved the barrel of the gun toward the trail. “I’d suggest you start back toward your car. We don’t want the deputy to have to come hunting for you.”

The smaller man leaned over to retrieve his weapon.

Jake growled and snapped at his hand. He jerked it back and almost fell over, backpedaling out of the reach of all those teeth. “Leave it,” Bay said. “Now move.”

“Leave it? Are you crazy? That’s an expensive weapon. I paid good money for—”

“Move.” Bay stood with feet spread, holding the big rifle rock-steady in one hand at hip level without any visible effort. Sweat glistened off his broad chest and the worn jeans clung to his muscular legs. Not only was he taller than the bigger of the two men, he was broader and obviously much more powerful.

And there wasn’t an ounce of fat on that impressive body.

Jake felt an immense swelling of pride as he watched his lover take control. Unarmed, Baylor was deadly. Armed, Baylor Quinn was an unstoppable foe. Neither of these jerks had any idea who they were dealing with—an ex–government agent who, not so many years ago, hadn’t hesitated to kill. He had been—and for all Jake knew, still was—a man capable of killing without remorse. A man who’d helped Jake dispose of the bodies of agents he’d probably shared coffee with mere hours before they died.

Men who had died by Jake and Shannon’s hands—and teeth. But on that day, Baylor had made a choice. He’d given his loyalties to the pack, just as he’d eventually given them his love.

It finally appeared to sink in to the idiots that Baylor wasn’t kidding. Cursing and complaining and threatening legal action, the two men left behind their ice chest and the ruined chairs where they’d hidden behind their makeshift blind. All of it evidence, Jake figured. For what good it would do.

Even with evidence, they’d merely pay a fine and get off with a slap on the wrist. This was an issue that wasn’t going to go away. Not as long as civilization continued to encroach on their once-private home.

It was only going to grow worse and the problem more threatening. With four children nearing an age where they’d be shifting and running as wolves along the trails that covered this beautiful part of what had once been Maine wilderness, Jake knew they needed to find a solution.

He’d once thought this land was paradise. He’d planned to live out the rest of his life here, content with Shannon, Baylor and Manda, and their kids. Now it was beginning to feel like a damned subdivision. Plus, their situation had changed, now that they knew their lives had the potential to last much longer than previously assumed. So much for plans....