Wild Wolf (17 page)

“Why is it so big?” Misty asked. “The house itself won't be this long. Or wide.”

“She shouldn't be down here,” Dougal said, a growl in his voice.

“No kidding,” Graham said. “Remember me yelling at you for bringing her? Misty, you have to promise to keep quiet about what you see here. That we've put in basements at all. All right? It's very important. Could be deadly if you don't keep it secret.”

One of the wolves—Kyle, she thought—came back and shifted into a boy. Yep, Kyle. “Will you punish Aunt Misty if she tells?” he asked, his eyes round. “You might hurt her. She's not as strong as Shifters.”

“If I think Misty might tell,” Graham said, “I'll tie her up, chain her to my bedpost, and . . .” Graham glanced at Misty, his eyes in the flashlight's glare holding wickedness. “Tickle her,” he finished.

Kyle thought this over, perfectly serious. “That should be okay.” He shifted back into wolf and ran after his brother.

“Tickle?” Misty asked.

“He means sex,” Dougal said. Shifter hearing—she couldn't best it. “He wants sex with you in a big way. He's broadcasting it like crazy.”

“Shut it, Dougal,” Graham said with a growl.

Dougal went quiet, but Misty felt no contrition from him. Good for Dougal, having fun laughing at his uncle.

“Matt, Kyle,” Graham called. “Wait.”

The cubs came to an immediate halt. The fact that they obeyed instantly, without question, told Misty how serious the situation was.

Graham turned in a circle, sniffing the air. “You sure this was where you were?”

One of the cubs shifted—Matt this time. “We came in here. We were exploring. Then we got dizzy. Then we were in the car.”

“Mmm.” Graham's acknowledgment was more of a grunt.

“Did you hear anyone behind you?” Misty asked. She imagined the hiker—the Fae—creeping up behind the cubs in the dark, tranquilizing them somehow. Had he used a tranq gun like the one Graham kept to stop Shifters who got too out of control? Or chloroform on a cloth?

“No,” Matt said. “There was no one down here but us.”

“If you're thinking of the Fae,” Graham said to Misty. “They'd have smelled him. Fae really stink.”

“Does Reid stink?” Misty asked. “I like him.”

“He does, but we're used to him. And Reid's not the same as the High Fae, much as I yank his chain about it. In fact, we could use him here. Dougal.”

Dougal turned around, his laughter gone, the defiant nephew returning. “Oh, come on, why do
I
always have to run the errands? Find flashlights, fetch Reid. Like I'm your bloody servant.”

“Winning one dominance fight doesn't make you pack leader,” Graham said, voice going harsh. “You do these things for me because that's what a good second does.”

Dougal stopped, blinking gray eyes in the lantern light. “Second? I thought Chisholm was your second.”

“I hadn't decided. But I want to keep it in the family, don't I? You're my tracker too, which means you do things to support me.”

The look on Dougal's face was stunned, turning radiant by the time Graham finished. “Yes!” His shout rang around the large basement. “I'll get him. I mean, I'm on it. Be right back.” Dougal bounded toward the light part of the basement. He whooped and punched the air, then scrambled up the ladder to the ground with amazing agility.

“That was nice of you,” Misty said.

“Huh. It wasn't nice. I'm making him my pack and clan second, because I'm seeing that he's the only one I can trust.” Graham watched until Dougal disappeared into the daylight, then he turned back to the darkness. “I'm going to need to go wolf now. Will you be all right if I do?”

G
raham was asking her. Showing concern. Not,
I'm doing this; too bad if you don't like it.
This was new.

“I'll be fine,” Misty said, warming.

“Good. You can carry my clothes.”

Figures.
“Shouldn't you wait for Dougal and Reid?” Misty asked as Graham pulled off his shirt. His hard chest came into view in her flashlight's glare, wiry hair curling across it.

“I want to know what we're getting into. This basement goes back another fifty feet or so. Dougal will find us.”

Graham yanked open the ties on his boots and pulled them off and his socks. Then, without shame, he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants and took them off, the loose gray boxers underneath following.

Graham wore his nakedness with the same comfort others wore their workout clothes. He stood easily with his feet in the gravelly dirt as he balled up his pants and shirt and thrust them at Misty.

Misty immediately shook them out and folded them neatly, pretending to ignore Graham rolling his eyes. She tucked the clothes under her arm but left the boots and socks, because Graham seemed fine on his bare feet.

In the light of her bright flashlight, Graham started his change. Fur rippled along his back and down his legs, his thighs bending to become the haunches of an upright wolf. His hands became giant paws very quickly, fur running up his arms, across his chest, and up his throat.

Finally, his face changed to the long nose and glittering gray eyes of a wolf. His ears pricked out last, popping up from his head so quickly that Misty let out a laugh.

Graham growled and charged her. Misty squealed and tried to sidestep, but Graham barreled into her. At the last minute, he pulled back the attack, ending up brushing her legs, his fur wonderfully warm.

Misty stroked him, loving the wiry heat of his fur, the strength of his wolf's body beneath it. Graham made a noise of what sounded like satisfaction, flowed around her again, and away.

The wolf cubs ran for Graham, yipping in gladness. They jumped at Graham's nose and rammed small heads into his front legs, until Graham lowered his head and bumped each in turn with his muzzle.

Family, acknowledging family, Misty realized. That was the most important thing, when it came down to it. Family taking care of each other, as Misty had taken care of Paul and her father, as Graham took care of Dougal and the cubs.

Graham growled at Matt and Kyle, and they seemed to understand him. They scooted underneath his belly, Graham so large that they had plenty of room. Graham started forward, the cubs giving a series of yelps. Guiding him in the right direction, Misty thought.

She came behind, careful not to shine the light in front of Graham. Once they'd gone a few more yards, the darkness was complete. Misty couldn't even see the square of light from outside behind her.

Graham stopped, and Misty nearly ran into him. He started again as soon as she drew near his big back, and he rumbled at her. She interpreted that he wanted her to stay close.

Another few steps, and she began to feel dizzy. The cubs whimpered. Graham stopped, and this time, Misty did run into him.

Misty put her hand on Graham's strong back, taking comfort in him. The cubs were whining louder, scared.

The flashlight's light snapped off. Misty shook the flashlight, but it was dead. Darkness fell upon her like a shroud. Her first instinct was panic, but she had Graham's warm body under her hands. She was safe. Graham could see in the dark, and he'd protect her.

Graham abruptly whipped around and snarled at her. Somewhere a glint of light shone on his eyes, or maybe his eyes glowed of their own accord. She saw his white teeth, all of them, bared. The sight was terrifying—eyes and teeth, snarls of a mad wolf.

Graham's wolf face shifted into a monster form, even more terrifying. He was snarling even as he changed. “Go back!” he yelled at her. “Run!”

Now was not the time to ask why or tell him again he wasn't the boss of her. Graham knew something she didn't, down here in the darkness, and Misty was ready to take his advice. She turned in the direction of where she thought the basement opening should be, and fled.

After three steps, she slipped, the floor having become slick for some reason, and went down, rocks cutting her knees beneath her skirt. It hurt, but wasn't incapacitating.

She scrambled up, heart beating wildly. Graham snarled again, a wolf once more, and Misty kept running.

This time, she made it five steps before another wave of dizziness hit her. She had no idea whether she fell to her knees or flat on her face, because there was just . . . nothing.

Except Graham's insistent voice, his hand on her abdomen. “Misty. Misty, damn it. Wake up.”

Misty opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Graham, his scarred face and broken nose over her, his gray eyes fixed on her.

“Thank the Goddess,” he said in relief. “I thought—” Graham clamped his mouth shut. His eyes, though, completed the thought and showed pain.

It was light where they were—lighter, anyway. Misty heard water running, a cool, soothing sound, but not from a faucet. More outdoorsy. More like . . .

Misty sat up, taking in a sharp breath. The wolf cubs were huddled together next to Graham, silent and shaking. They sat on slick rock, in a dim, cool cave, which was enormous. Vines snaked around them, out of reach, bearing small scarlet, purple, and light blue flowers. Misty swallowed. “Trailing petunias.”

“What?”

“The flowers.” Misty pointed. “They're trailing petunias. Grow on vines instead of in clumps.”

“Oh, good,” Graham said. “I needed to know that.”

The water trickled pleasantly, but the sound put a chill in Misty's heart. They were in the cave where Misty had first met the hiker. Graham was naked, sitting on the black ground, his arms around Misty. She'd lost hold of his clothes, which were nowhere in sight.

“How did we get here?” Misty asked, pushing her hair from her face. “What happened?”

“I haven't the faintest fucking idea. I got dizzy, went down, woke up here. The cubs were fine, but you wouldn't wake up.”

Misty swallowed. She didn't have the needy thirst anymore, but the water called to her.
Lovely. Cool. Drink.

She gave Graham a sharp look. “You all right?”

“I didn't drink it, don't worry.”

Misty blew out a breath. “Good.”

Graham moved his tongue over his lips, but they remained dry. Since the ordeal in the desert, Misty hadn't seen him drink anything except a few sips of coffee, and the water he'd licked so erotically from her. She hadn't seen him sleep either.

“We aren't dreaming, are we?”

Graham shook his head. “Don't think so. It feels real, smells too real. That's good.”

“Good? Why good?”

He gave her a grim smile. “Because if Oison shows up, this time I'll kill him for real.”

Misty put her hand on his, finding his skin fever hot. “We need to fix you. You'll die like this.”

“Not if I kill the Fae first.”

“But what if even that doesn't release you from the spell? I never got to tell you about Ben.”

“Ben?” Graham asked sharply. “Who's Ben?”

Misty related what had happened the afternoon before, Paul bringing Ben to her office and what Ben had said.

Graham listened, eyes narrowing. “Like I said, who the hell is Ben?” he asked when she finished.

“I don't know, but if he has a legitimate way of curing you, I'm willing to listen to him.”

Graham gave her a dark look. “You're too trusting. How do you know he wasn't Fae?”

Misty shrugged. “He didn't look Fae. Not like the hiker, anyway. Or like Reid.”

“Yeah, well, half Fae can look very human and be just as deadly, rotten, jerk-ass bastards.”

“Like I said, I don't know,” Misty said, holding on to her patience. “I asked Cassidy to have Diego check him out, but I haven't heard back yet.”

“And it's not like I have a cell phone on me now,” Graham rumbled. “You didn't happen to bring one, did you?”

“I left it at your house,” Misty said. “Anyway, they didn't work out here before.”

“Before, we were in the desert north of Las Vegas. Are we there now?”

“Have you tried to find out?”

“Look around you,” Graham said. “See a way out?”

When Misty had been in this cave before, she'd approached the fountain from the entrance between the rocks, then turned around and went back the way she'd come. But the cave was gigantic. She couldn't tell if she was in the same place she'd been before or not.

“How did we get in here?” she asked. “You can't expect me to believe Shifters dug a basement that leads fifty miles out of town.”

“No.” Graham tilted his head to gaze at the ceiling, which was lost in darkness. “I think it's on a ley line.”

“A what line . . . ?”

“Ley line,” Graham said. “Magical lines that radiate around the world, many with gateways to Faerie. The sucky thing is, Shiftertowns are sometimes built on ley lines. The Austin Shiftertown has one. My Shiftertown in Elko didn't, but Bowman's in North Carolina does. I didn't think the Vegas one did; but I know there's a ley line up by Hoover Dam. Probably the same one or a branch of it.”

Misty listened in surprise. “Why would Shifters build on the ley lines if they're gates to Faerie? I thought you hated the Fae.”

Graham moved his gaze to her, while he absently petted the cubs, who were still huddled against him. “We didn't build the Shiftertowns, did we? We were sent to them. Not our choice. Probably another Fae conspiracy—they've been trying from the beginning to make Shifters slaves to them. But I'm not letting Dougal or these little guys ever come under the Fae. Fae are cruel, evil shits, and we should eradicate them.”

“I am pained to hear it.”

Misty jumped. The tall Fae who'd been the hiker stood behind Graham, a long sword in his hands. He hadn't been there a moment ago, and he hadn't appeared with a bang or even a faint sparkle. One moment he'd not been there, and this moment, he was.

The cubs were on their feet. But instead of cringing against Graham, they were snapping and snarling at Oison.

Graham let out a sudden groan and clamped his hand to his side, right where he'd been shot. To Misty's horror, the wound began to flow with blood. Graham sat in silence after the first grunt of pain, but his face lost color as the blood poured out.

Misty was on her feet. “Stop it!”

“He was only cured of the wound because of me,” Oison said calmly. “I can reverse the spell anytime I wish.”

“Wasn't a cure,” Graham said through his teeth. “A curse, more like it.”

“I helped you, Shifter,” Oison said. “I took away the pain. I stopped the bleeding and ensured you didn't take sick. That is not a curse. That is me helping the being I wish to see at my side. What I did is no different from you keeping your nephew safe from the wolves who torment him, or the cubs from predators. I look after my own.”

“Don't even . . .” Graham rose to his feet, holding his side all the while. It pained him to stand, but he shook off Misty's hand and got himself upright. “Don't pretend you're my pack leader or anything like it. You know damn all about being a leader.”

“And you know everything about it, which is why I want you.”

Graham dragged in a breath. “Well, I don't want you, asshole.”

Graham changed to his wolf so suddenly Misty blinked, and at the same time he leapt at Oison. Oison lifted his sword, and brought it down . . .

“No!” Misty screamed. She knocked into Graham. She couldn't impact much of his momentum, but she managed to change his path so the sword didn't reach him. The blade scraped across Misty's side as Oison swung it, biting deep before the Fae yanked it back.

She heard snarling, huge and ferocious from Graham, small and vicious from the cubs. Then pain. Nothing but pain.

It flooded her body, blotting out all sight, all sound, all other feeling. She must have fallen, but Misty didn't register it, only found herself facedown on shining black rock. She heard cries of agony she didn't realize she was making.

Kyle licked her nose, yipping in distress. Graham was roaring, his blood splashing down on her, or maybe that was her blood. The pain was complete, erasing past and future, any pleasure Misty had ever experienced. There was nothing but hurting, and she'd never feel anything but pain again.

The Fae shouted, and dimly Misty heard a clatter of his sword. Graham's snarling went on, and then his body landed next to hers, human once more, blood pouring out of him. He got to his hands and knees and put his strong hand on her head.

“Misty. Stay with me.”

“I'm not going anywhere,” Misty said. Or thought she said.

Kyle left off licking her face. He joined Matt, the two of them bracing themselves in front of Oison, who was still standing, minus his sword. Oison looked angry. He pointed at them, as he had in the dream.