Read Rogue Wolf Online

Authors: Heather Long

Tags: #wolf, #strong, #heroes, #heroines, #shifters, #interracial, #wolves, #alpha

Rogue Wolf (7 page)

“I need to call Julian.” She needed to get control of the situation. “Track down what we know about Barrows and then get this hunt on the move.” Without meaning to, she committed herself.  Accepting the fate, she tossed back her drink. The alcohol did wonders for her fraying nerves. “If you don’t mind, I’ll step outside to make the call.”

Mason motioned to the door, and she avoided the Italian in her haste to get the hell out of there. Outside, the cooler temperatures washed over her and she blew out a breath.

From the frying pan and into the fire, she’d just agreed to spend a lot of time with the foreigner. Her wolf was thrilled. Margo?

Not so much.

 

Chapter Four

 

 

Salvatore tracked Margo’s exit with a frown. Her haste aggravated him, particularly her avoidance of even the appearance of touching him when only a few moments before he’d soothed her agitation. No, he hadn’t imagined it. When his temper collided with Mason’s, Margo had been trapped between them and her wolf struggled with the sensation of being cornered.

She’d
responded
to him then escaped to call another wolf. Focused on the door she’d disappeared through, he concentrated on containing his wolf’s urge to stalk after her. “Who is Julian?”

“He’s kind of the Alpha of the Enforcers, for lack of a better term. Their Prime.” The laconic response was unexpected. “He coordinates, mediates, directs.” Margo’s seeking outside counsel apparently did not disturb Mason.

“Why do you let her run alone?” Redirecting his energy, he slanted a look at the Willow Bend Alpha. The man was not what he’d expected. Younger than he by more than a few decades. Though new to his power, he wore it well.

“I don’t let her do anything. She isn’t pack.” The even response held the barest note of warning.

Salvatore ignored it. “She is a beautiful woman who runs alone. She should not be allowed to be isolated…”

Holding up a hand, Mason’s easy demeanor grew more remote. “I’m going to ask you to stop right there. You’re treading on dangerous territory. Enforcers are a necessary evil. None are forced out—Wait, let me amend that. I would never force a wolf to run Lone or be in the position to be recruited. My predecessor was not so kind or forgiving. While Margo is no longer pack, her family is. She grew up here, and she has allies within this pack. I do not
let
her do anything.”

As much as the situation grated on him, Salvatore appreciated Mason’s candor. “Then you have no say over her at all.” No pack claimed her, no pack to navigate if he wished to…

“Not precisely, no.” The guarded statement echoed the earlier note of warning. “But, to be perfectly clear, as much as I dislike her on a personal basis, she is a good woman and a good wolf. You hurt her, if you take advantage of her in anyway…well, let’s say my visit to Italy won’t be as cordial.”

Soul quiet, Salvatore met Mason’s gaze. The edge of steel in them promised to sharpen his claws on Salvatore’s flesh. “So, you do have some claim on her…”

“You don’t understand the Enforcers.” The low tone was far more menacing than his previous threat. “You will, most likely, receive a hell of an education. They protect all packs. They are the guardians of our laws. They keep us safe from rogues. I don’t have to like them to appreciate why they do what they do. That said, there’s not an Alpha in this country who won’t protect them for the sacrifices they make. She isn’t mine, but she sure as hell isn’t yours either.”

The challenge ruffled his fur. Denial danced on the tip of his tongue, but Salvatore resisted the compulsion. Margo was not his, and he wasn’t there to take her home with him. Mason would not step in the way of his pursuit, but the Willow Bend Alpha would defend her if he felt it necessary.
Americans
.

They were so strange.

“Thank you for clarifying.” Smoothing his jacket, he nodded. “I will join her. We will determine the best route for locating them, then inform you when—and if—we are on our way out of your territory.” With any luck, the rogue took Luciana into unclaimed lands and Salvatore would be free of negotiations.

“Good hunting.” Mason made no move to accompany him, nor did he give any ground. Salvatore admired the Alpha’s tenacity, but he refused to turn his back on the man.

Angling sideways, he moved toward the door and kept Mason in his line of sight. Outside, Margo leaned against her vehicle and Salvatore’s suitcase sat on the walk. The other wolves remained in the area, though none were clearly visible. No, they would not let him wander their land without being watched. He had taken similar steps with Rayne, until the wolf proved relatively trustworthy.

Salvatore’s jaw tightened. Rayne bided his time, earning their complacency—
his
complacency. The rogue would live long enough to regret his abuse of Seven Hills’ hospitality. Margo didn’t glance at him as he approached.

“That’s the problem, Julian. We need to know when we lost track of Rayne Barrows. Why didn’t we know he was in Europe? If Tumbler knew he was gone, why didn’t he mention it?”

Pausing a step away, Salvatore made no pretense of not listening to the conversation. She spared him a look, then shrugged.

“Margo, you know as well as I do, we check on them. We keep an eye out for trouble, then we leave them alone.” Patience echoed in the other man’s voice. Patience mingled with a hint of affection.

“Fine. Six months, Julian? Based on Salvatore’s tale, Rayne was in Italy six months ago. How do we not check on a Lone Wolf for six months?” Irritation scored the underside of her words. Although he appreciated her concern, Salvatore disliked upsetting her. Touching her arm lightly, he wanted to offer comfort.

A flash of yellow gold bled into her eyes as she jerked her arm from his grasp. The baring of her teeth earned a reluctant smile from him. So fierce and strong, she appealed to him on many levels.

“I intend to
ask
him the same questions, Margo. When was the last time you checked on your wolves, hmm? I mean, one slipped your watch and took a pack, as I recall.” The verbal slap scored a mark, and Salvatore’s eyes narrowed.

“Do not speak to her that way again.” He didn’t raise his voice, aware the other wolf would hear him. Threading his power through his words, he continued, “Do you have any information on Rayne Barrows?”

Margo glared at him, then slapped her hand to his chest and shoved. While she didn’t move him so much as an inch, he enjoyed the contact. “Let me guess, in Italy they don’t have manners either?”

Shrugging aside her castigation, he ignored overstepping boundaries. He’d followed protocol and presented his case to the local Alpha, received his permission to hunt in his territory and had access to someone capable of helping him. Done with the dance, he wanted answers, not more games.

“Mr. Esposito, welcome to the United States. I deal with Margo as I see fit. Unlike you, I am not scolding her, simply reminding her we all have a lot of wolves to look after. That said, I’ll get to work on pulling what we know on Barrows together.”

Still touching him, Margo blew out a breath. “What about Serafina? Would it be worth the call to ask her about Barrows?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ll have Domino take care of it. He’s in the area and, last I heard, the two of them were on friendly terms. As far as I know Barrows been gone from Delta Crescent since Serafina ascended.” Though Rayne rarely mentioned his former pack, Salvatore paid attention. A female Alpha was unusual enough to remark upon. Margo’s fingers curled into his shirt. The pressure, coupled with the grip, eased his temper.

“That sounds good. Who isn’t tied up at the moment? I’ve still got missing wolves to track. I want someone else working on it, and I asked Hadley to keep an eye on Salvatore’s packmates in Canada.”

Missing wolves?

A growl of frustration from the other end of the phone. “Kip and Donny are still recovering, I’ll check with Jace and Ian. They may be able to take over the hunt for the missing wolves. We can add another four to that list of missing, however.”

Her expression grew grim. “From where?”

“Sutter Butte. Cassius reported the wolves didn’t appear at their annual gathering—”

The sensation of claws pricking his flesh brought Salvatore’s attention to her hand. Covering her wrist lightly, he stroked his thumb along the soft flesh below her cuff. The agitation in her scent coupled with her claws worried him.

“Are they really missing or did they get killed on their way to the annual by some wolf hoping to make the climb?” Her tone held the barest note of frost.

“No idea. Cassius usually doesn’t send us lists of the dead. Either way, we’ll add them to our current count, which brings us close to ten or twelve wolves. No way is this a coincidence.”

“Son of a bitch.” Margo’s imprecation lacked heat. “I’ll work on the missing Rayne and help Salvatore find his sister…”

“Margo you know the law.”

Salvatore tightened his grip on her arm, and she jerked her head up. Her gaze went from his face to her hand, then back again. He didn’t release her and, to his immediate pleasure, she didn’t pull away. Holding his gaze, she said quietly, “I do know the law, Julian. Lone Wolves are forbidden pack ties, forbidden mating, and forbidden from acting against the interests of the packs.”

“If he really took Salvatore’s sister to mate…”

He didn’t breathe, his attention riveted on the additional gold bleeding into her eyes. Her wolf stared at him without flinching. “Then he dies.” Margo said. “I’ll kill him myself. Salvatore is here. He can hold his sister if her mate dies.”

Raw fury tore through him. To lose a mate could cripple a wolf…

“Well, then I leave the decision in your hands. We’ve been down this road before.” A second note of warning reflected in the other man’s voice. “We good?”

“We’re good. Talk to you soon.”

“Don’t get dead.”

The call disconnected and Salvatore pressed into her space further, backing her to the car. “You will not be killing the rogue.” He tempered every word with command. “It was my pack injured…”

“I get it, big boy. You’re pissed. Killing rogues is what I do. Keeping Lone Wolves from going rogue is the ideal but, in this case, he’s already broken the laws. I don’t know if he mated your sister, and I hope for her sake he didn’t, as it’s a lot easier to lose a loved one than it is a mate.”

“She doesn’t love him.” He focused on those key points. “This is my hunt…”

“For. Your. Sister.” The softness vanished as her lips compressed into a thin line. “Be very clear on this, Salvatore. You came here to find
her
. I am willing to help you. You have Mason’s support, apparently, and his pack won’t impede us. I have other Enforcers I can call for assistance. We’ll find them. What happens to him when we do is
my
decision, not yours.”

The combined pressure of her hand on him and his on her helped curb his rising temper, but only just. “I do not agree to those conditions, however,” he said when she would have opened her mouth. “I have a counter proposal.”

“Which is?” The words were ground out between her clenched teeth.

He wanted to rip Rayne’s lying head from his shoulders or at the very least snap his neck. “When we track them, I will verify that my sister is not mated. If she is not—then you may have him. If she is…he is mine.” It was the only concession he was prepared to make.

“So you’re claiming him if they’re mated?” The rational response surprised him, but he considered his options.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I know my sister. She is a delicate thing. I do not know if she would survive losing her mate. I do know she would not have mated and kept it a secret willfully. Nor would she have had any reason to run. I have to know what happened between them to know what damage he has done.”

“Fine,” Margo stunned him with her acquiescence. “If they are mated, he’s yours. If they aren’t, he’s mine. I don’t need time to decide his fate. If they aren’t mated, I’m killing him.” Despite the flip tone at the end of her statement, the darkness in her eyes tugged at him.

“You do not have to, if you do not wish. I will not judge you weak for wishing to forgive him…” The words were the wrong ones, she dug her claws into him and the fabric tore.

“I am not weak. Mercy is never weak. Mercy is what we give when someone is deserving of our compassion. I do not know what this Rayne Barrows is, but do not belittle me again, Salvatore. Clear?”

Closing his grip, he applied pressure until her claws retracted. “I did not mean to offer insult,
bella
. However, we should have rules if you wish to keep clawing me. I prefer your claws in my back rather than my chest and the scrape of them… I find is very arousing.”

This close he could not miss the spice of her desire invading her anger.

“Anytime you wish to test your claws on me, all you must do is say the word.
Capisce
?”

“Asshole.” Her grumbled remark, so disrespectful and yet teasing in the same breath, amused him.

Deliberately misunderstanding, he tugged her hand from his chest and lifted it to press a kiss to her open palm, daring her claws. “Is that your word, then?”

Her pupils dilated briefly, then her gaze narrowed. “Is what my word?”

“The word you wish to use when you desire to be in my bed?”

Understanding flared and she growled, the low sound so full of menace and threat it was adorable.

“I shall remember it well,” he promised, then nipped the heel of her hand hard enough for her to feel his teeth. She sucked in a breath, but didn’t pull away. “Simply call me that again, and I will know you are ready for me.”

Sadly, she kept her silence on the word and he released her.

Clearing her throat, Margo slid sideways to escape him and he let her go. “We need to get moving—and you need a change of clothes.”

Yes, better to get back to business. Smoothing a hand over his ruined shirt, he nodded. “Pennsylvania then?”

“Maybe.” Her eyes were a little bright and her face flushed. “I’ve got calls out to the Enforcers. A.J. told me they’ve given you a place on the far side of town. I’ll get you there, and we’ll see about supplies.”

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