Wild Wolf (22 page)

Lorcan licked the side of his mouth, where blood had dripped. More blood dripped from his nose, thin streams of it. “It's too late. The High Fae have been making swords to match the spells in the Collars for many years. They're almost ready. My father and I were chosen to help prepare the way.”

“Because Fae want Shifters back under their power?” Graham asked. “Guess what? They're not getting it.”

“Fae wish to walk the earth again, as they once did. Shifters will fight the humans for the Fae—Shifters can fight iron.”

“You mean Shifters kill all the humans, and the Fae pour out of their stone circles and rule the earth?” Graham leaned closer to Lorcan. “Do they realize how many humans are on this planet?”

“Fae aren't that good at math,” Lorcan said, gray lips quirking to a little smile. “But there are many millions of Fae in Faerie. Only a handful of them ever lived on earth. It's getting crowded in Faerie, and they want the human world back.”

“Using Shifters to get it?”

“The battle beasts, yes.”

Oison had called Graham a
battle beast
. “If Shifters get wiped out in this little war, the Fae won't have their battle beasts anymore,” Graham said.

“They'll make more,” Lorcan said. “You have many cubs now.”

Graham felt the blood drain from his face. Shifters started to growl, move.

Rage replaced Graham's shock. He grabbed Lorcan by his shirt. “They touch the cubs, and we'll rip off their heads, starting with yours.”

“I told them that,” Lorcan said desperately, more blood trickling from his nose and mouth. “I told them how protective you were of cubs. They don't care.”

Reid said, “Sounds like typical
hoch alfar.
Cold
and
stupid.”

Dylan broke in, his quiet voice even more deadly. “Why did they wait twenty years? In the first years of the Collars, we were weaker, more vulnerable. There was chaos trying to settle into Shiftertowns and find our feet.”

“They wanted you stronger,” Lorcan answered. “Shifters started to live longer, be more healthy, have more cubs. Multiply.”

Graham shook Lorcan once, spraying blood. “So the Fae would have a bigger army.”

“Larger and stronger.”

“Shit.” Graham released him, and Lorcan thumped back into the seat.

“What is the secret of the swords?” Jace asked around Dylan. “How can we break their effect?”

Lorcan shook his head. “You can't. The Fae made the swords to have the same technology as the Collars—they taught my dad how to make the Collars in the first place, and he taught me. The spells in the swords activate the Collars. They don't have to actually touch the Collars, but touching makes the control stronger.”

“But swords and Collars have to be in proximity,” Dylan said.

“For now.”

The chill of those words worked their way through the Shifters. “How many?” Graham asked.

“Swords? As many now as there are Shifters.”

Silence descended in the hanger. Graham remembered the pain that had encased him when Oison had touched his sword to Graham's Collar. Oison had been able to manipulate Graham's gunshot wound, healing and unhealing it at will. The water spell had been a way to bring Graham close enough to Oison, he realized, through the dreams—Graham would never have voluntarily walked into Faerie on his own. The Fae spell, through the water, had taken Graham to Oison, so Oison could use the sword . . .

“Inside Faerie,” Graham finished his thought out loud. The other Shifters jerked attention to him. “Oison didn't come outside Faerie, with the sword, to where I was dying in the desert. He coerced me through Misty into drinking the water, to get me under his thrall first. He couldn't just come and get me with the sword—I already had to be weak and in his power. Which means the sword spells must not completely work yet.”

Lorcan looked nervous. “Oison is impatient. He thinks we should move now. The leaders say the plan hasn't matured, but Oison wants to start immediately, before Shifters get
too
strong.”

And Shifters were now learning how to control the Collars and even to remove them. Graham wondered if Oison knew Shifters had discovered the secret of removing the Collars, but Graham wasn't going to voice the thought to a man hand in glove with both the Fae and the human government.

“Oison jumped the gun, you mean,” Graham said. “He gave the game away. That's what he gets for being a fuckwad.”

“No,
I
gave the game away,” Lorcan said. “I'm doing it now. The Fae won't let me live for telling you all this.”

Dylan almost smiled. “Then you'll have to trust Shifters to keep you safe and alive.”

Liam grinned. “Ironic, isn't it, lad?”

“Keep him safe?” Graham growled. “You mean I can't tear him in half? Or watch Reid do the trick with the ring again?”

Liam shook his head. “We can't risk the humans investigating us if Lorcan turns up dead and shredded, or cut in half by a Fae sword. So he's now under our protection. Poor guy.”

Liam was laughing, looking positively gleeful. Graham wished he could be so happy. “How do we deactivate the swords?” Graham asked Lorcan. “All of them?”

“You don't,” Lorcan said. “Not from here. You'd have to take that fight inside Faerie, or lure the Fae out.”

Bowman broke in. “So, there are as many Fae with the swords as there are Shifters with Collars? I could eat ten Fae and have room for dessert, but them controlling the Collars makes things different.”

Going into Faerie wasn't an option, Graham knew. There weren't enough Shifters in fighting form to win a fight inside Faerie, even without the Fae having the Collar-controlling swords. Plus, gates to Faerie were tricky—no guarantee a Shifter army could get in. On the other hand, enticing a boatload of Fae out of Faerie to fight didn't appeal either . . . if they'd even come.

“What about Andrea's father?” Graham asked. “What's his name, Fionn? He's a Fae. What does he know about all this?”

“Nothing,” Dylan said. “I already spoke with him, and what I told him made him very angry. Not all Fae see eye-to-eye. He fears those Fae who made the swords will not only want to walk the earth again, but rule all of Faerie. There are constant power struggles there. Fionn can help, but only if he can convince his clan it's necessary. Fionn's people might be happy to let the Fae use controlled Shifters to kill humans, good riddance to the humans.”

“Good riddance to Shifters too, you mean,” Graham said, and Dylan gave him a slow nod. “And then there's Reid,” Graham said, turning to him. “Go tell your dark Fae to kick some ass.”

“I will,” Reid said. “Same problem though, getting my clan to agree about the threat. They might be happy to let the
hoch alfar
fight each other, or let them leave Faerie for the human world without protest. Dark Fae will shut the gates behind the
hoch alfar
and be glad.
Dokk alfar
are the original Fae, after all.” Reid's black eyes glinted. “However, I might convince my people to keep the Fae busy while we figure out how to stop them.”

“I know how,” Graham said. “Without going to Faerie at all.”

He didn't say it out loud. Lorcan might be under Dylan's thumb now, but he still could turn around and text someone in the human government as soon as he got his hands free.

The solution was getting the Collars off Shifters. The Fae couldn't manipulate what wasn't there. Collars were already coming off the weaker Shifters, the ones who couldn't take the pain and couldn't learn the techniques for control. The thought that Matt and Kyle, and whatever cub Graham would have with Misty, wouldn't have to wear true Collars made his heart sing.

“Is that enough information?” Dylan asked. “I'd like to get Lorcan back home before the humans miss him.”

Liam, hands in his sweat jacket pockets, nodded. “I'll get Marlo, and we'll go. Sean and Andrea will stay a while longer, Graham, to make sure Misty's all right.” Graham gave Liam a nod of thanks.

“That's it then,” Jace said.

The fact that the Shifters didn't disperse until Jace gave the nod attested to his growing power. Without any more talk, Liam disappeared into the darkening desert, and Dylan, Bowman, and Sean carried Lorcan, silver chains, chair, and all, out. A plane's engines started up, lights flashing, the lumbering bird waiting for its passengers.

The other Shifters started to walk away, off to board the airplane or find their own transportation home. No one said,
Take care of yourself
, or even
Goddess go with you.
Such words might mean they'd never see each other again.

“How'd you do that?” Graham asked Reid in a low voice as the building emptied. “With the ring? If mixed-blood Fae don't have to worry about iron?”

“They still need to worry about it,” Reid said. “But they have enough human blood in them to dilute the effects. I used the ring to
un
dilute the effects, going straight for the part of Lorcan that was true Fae.”

“Really?” Graham rubbed his jaw, feeling stiff bristles. “Good to know.”

Reid eyed him. “You couldn't do it yourself. If
you
pushed this ring against Lorcan's neck, he'd only feel a ring against his neck. Only I can make the iron work.”

“Because you're Iron Man, I know.”

“Ironmaster,” Reid said. But he gave Graham a ghost of a smile, appreciating the humor. Then he walked away a few steps, and disappeared.

Graham couldn't help his jump when the air around Reid displaced with a little pop. “Damn, I
hate
it when he does that.”

Jace waited to walk out with Graham. “We'll start with you,” Jace said.

He meant taking off the Collars. Graham shook his head as he mounted his borrowed bike. “Dougal first. He'd never stand against Fae. Thank the Goddess it was me who got shot and water-spelled. Dougal would already be gone.”

“I agree,” Jace said. “But it's not up to me.”

“Your dad thinks it's up to him,” Graham said. “Your dad's wrong.”

Without waiting for Jace's answer, Graham started and revved the bike and took off across the desert. To the west, the sky was crimson, gold, and brilliant blue, black mountains in silhouette—a desert sunset in all its glory. A perfect backdrop, Graham thought. Too bad this movie wasn't over.

 • • • 

G
raham checked on the cubs when he reached Shiftertown, who were happy to continue hanging out with Andrea and Sean, who'd returned from the meeting. Sean and Andrea were looking after Dougal too, while pretending not to, to spare Dougal's pride. They were good people, Graham conceded, for Felines and half-Fae Shifters.

Graham left them and headed south into the heart of Las Vegas to Misty's store. He knew she'd gone back there in spite of Graham telling her not to, because that was the kind of lady Misty was.

Misty wasn't at the store when Graham reached it, however. Some of Eric's Shifters were, including Brody, cleaning up. Eric had arrived with Misty here, Brody said, then Xav had followed Misty home, and Shane had driven Eric back to Shiftertown.

Graham continued to Misty's house. Her truck was in her driveway, along with a couple of black pickups and SUVs from DX Security. Graham told the man working on fixing Misty's door to get out of the way and go home. The man stepped aside, but went back to his work on the door.

Graham ignored him, in too much of a hurry to be irritated. He let scent and voices guide him to the kitchen, where his mate was.

Except his mate leaned against Xav Escobar, Xav's arms around her, Misty's head on his shoulder. While Graham stood there for a stunned second, Xav stroked one hand through Misty's hair.

Graham was across the room, his Collar sparking, a roar leaving his mouth. He wrapped his hand around Xav's throat, and kept moving, heaving Xav up against the far wall before anyone could say a word.

I
t took Misty a few heartbeats to realize the whirlwind who'd rushed by her was Graham. Graham enraged, his Collar throwing off arcs of electricity. His eyes were white with fury, his hands turning to claws that gripped Xav's neck.

Xavier, face red, brought out a black device. “I'll tase you, McNeil. Tasers and Collars, not a pretty combination.” He had to force out the words.

Misty rushed to Graham and tried to pull his hands from Xav, but Graham's arms were like steel bars. “Stop it, Graham. It's not what you think.”

“You touched my
mate
,
”
Graham said savagely to Xav. “You want me to kill you now? Or do you want to Challenge me, and I'll kill you later?”

“Fuck you,” Xav said. He brought up the Taser, electricity crackling.

“No!” Misty cried. “Graham, let him
go
! I was talking to him as a friend. He was comforting me,
as a friend
. Three guesses as to who he was comforting me about.”

Graham wasn't listening. “You never, ever touch a Shifter's mate. You'll be dead before you hit the ground.” Graham's Collar was still sparking, but he didn't seem to notice.

“Let him go,” Misty shouted at him. “I haven't agreed to be your mate.”

Graham swung his head around, pinning Misty with his white gray stare. “I mate-claimed you. You didn't refuse. You had all that sex with me; you made me think—” He broke off, pain momentarily flickering through his eyes. “You are my mate.”

The DX Security man who'd been fixing the door had come in, his Taser also at the ready. Misty held up her hand to stop him but looked Graham in the eye.

“You are
insufferable
. Because we had sex, now I belong to you? I don't even know what to say to that.” Misty didn't know much what to do either. She settled for making an exasperated noise and storming out into the yard.

Behind her she heard Xav coughing. “Welcome to women in the twenty-first century,” Xav said, and laughed. Hoarsely.

Misty's backyard usually comforted her. She'd planted it so something would be in bloom every season, whether they were in the hottest triple-digit temps of the summer or the forties in the winter. Moonlight now shone on four-o'clocks that bloomed in darkness and the ghostly white blossoms of the oleanders.

Misty hadn't stood more than five seconds trying to find calm, before Graham barreled out the door after her. She hoped he hadn't broken that one too.

Graham had always been gentle with Misty, pulling back his strength for her. Now he grabbed her by the shoulders, hands biting down hard, and yanked her around to face him. The silver white glow of his eyes was even more pronounced in the moonlight, the anger in them plain.

“Let go of me,” Misty snapped. “And stop trying to kill my friends. You don't own me.”

Graham didn't release her. “I scent-marked you. I mate-claimed you. Yes, I do.”

“You know, every time I realize I love you, you start to be an asshole. You break my house, you threaten people, you even get hurt yourself. What is
wrong
with you?”

Graham's grip on her arm abruptly softened. His Collar had stopped sparking, but Misty saw the dark marks it had left on his neck.

“What do you mean, every time you realize you love me?” he demanded.

“I mean, whenever I acknowledge I care about you, you do something that makes me wonder why I do.”

“No.” Graham let her go. “You said
love
.”

“I know I did.” Misty rubbed her arms. “And don't give me any crap about Shifters not loving like humans do, or me not understanding what I feel, or—”

“Goddess. Misty.” Graham's eyes filled with wells of pain that matched his rage. He stared at her for a long moment, moonlight playing on his hard face, the flame tattoos, the dark buzz of his hair. “I want you with every breath.”

His eyes had darkened to their normal gray, which still held a hint of silver. He reached for her again, his hands landing on her shoulders, this time without the hard pressure. Graham caressed her, thumbs moving on her bare skin under her tank top.

“I need you,” he said. “Now more than ever.”

His voice was thick, gravelly, with dryness and emotion. He stepped against her, the tall warmth of him covering her, before he leaned down and kissed her.

The kiss was slow, almost tender, but it held Graham's strength. His lips were shaking, as though he wanted to take everything but stopped himself.

When he eased back, his grip tightened on her shoulders. He looked down at her but shook his head, as though he debated something inside himself.

“Aw, screw it,” he whispered.

Misty's heart fluttered as Graham turned her around and transferred his grip to her arm. He walked her ahead of him, across her yard and over the little bridge, lifting her in both hands as they got to the other side. He set her on her feet on the grass beyond, where they'd done the spell, and turned her to him, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her, again with tenderness. Then he slid his hands down her shirt and skimmed it up and off over her head.

Misty automatically tried to cover herself, but Graham pulled her arms apart and gazed down on her.

“Moon kissed,” he said. “Touched by the Goddess. Beautiful.”

Graham gently tugged her nipples between his fingers, kissing her again, his tongue a slow caress in her mouth. Misty moved her hands to Graham's waist, popped open the button of his jeans, and slid her hand inside.

She found Graham's cock, hard and tight, hot against her hand. She squeezed, and Graham made a noise of pleasure in the kiss. He let go of Misty to unzip the jeans and drop them all the way, letting the denim pool around his ankles.

“You are the sweetest thing,” he said.

She slid her hand along his cock, his tip firm against her palm. Misty loved looking at him like this, a strong man bared for her, his head going back as he enjoyed her touch.

Graham had never made any pretense of not wanting her. He'd looked at Misty the first night as though he wondered what she'd be like in bed. If her friends hadn't pulled her away, Misty might have found out what
he
was like. Once they'd started seeing each other, Graham had held back, for many reasons, one of which, Misty had come to understand, was not to hurt her.

Now, he was giving her everything.

Graham smiled as he pulled her into his arms, she still holding on to his cock. As he kissed her, he unbuttoned her skirt and let it and her underwear drop to the grass.

He pulled her closer, his fingers warm on her buttocks. “Stay away from that damned human.”

“I told you,” Misty said, kissing his shoulder, “he was talking to me as a friend.”

“Friend, my ass,” Graham rumbled.

“No, this is your ass.” Misty pinched it.

“Little shit. Just for that . . .”

Graham wrapped one leg around Misty's, gently pulling her feet out from under her. Misty squeaked once and landed on her hands and knees. She had no idea what he meant to do, until he slid his arm around her from behind.

Graham's shirt landed next to her on the grass. He settled in behind her, covering her back with his large, hot body. He positioned himself at her opening, his tip touching her.

“I'm not sure I can,” she said, sucking in a breath. “You're . . . big.”

“Yes,” Graham stroked her hair, his body warming hers. “But you can.”

“I'm not a Shifter.”

“I know. I love that about you.” Graham laughed softly, as though to himself, and then he was pushing inside her.

Misty gulped air, all her muscles tightening. No, he couldn't.
She
couldn't. Another breath, and Graham slid in another inch.

He stroked her hair, then her back, making soothing noises. “Take me, Misty. Be mine.”

Misty took another deep breath, and then she relaxed. Her body opened, and Graham slid straight into her heat.

“That's it,” Graham's voice went quiet, the gravel turning to velvet. “Goddess, you're good. Tight.
Yes.
”

Misty closed her eyes and groaned as he started to thrust. In this position, she felt only
him
, and all thought dissolved. Nothing existed but Graham, thick and hard inside her, the night, the grass prickling her hands and knees.

He went faster, hands on her back, beautiful friction. His legs were strong against hers, his rhythm even, unceasing.

Misty heard cries coming out of her mouth, floating to the sky to echo against the moon. Dimly she realized others would hear, but she couldn't stop. What Graham did was so intense, so
right
, and her mouth wanted to let the world know her pleasure.

She grabbed his shirt from the ground and pressed it to her mouth, letting the cloth muffle the sounds. It didn't dampen all the noise Misty was making, and Graham laughed at her.

“Sweet, sweet woman. We'll go up into the woods and do this all night, and you'll scream as much as you want to.”

Yes.
Misty pressed back to him, wanting more. Graham kept up his thrusts, harder and faster. He held her, covering her with his warmth, his rumbling voice soothing.

Misty had no idea what he said, but she loved his voice, clung to the sound. It rolled over her like a warm wave, lifting her into the greatest pleasure.

More waves caught her, these of her coming apart. She dropped the shirt, bunching it in her fist on the ground as she supported herself against his onslaught. She heard her own voice, low and needy,
Oh, yes, Graham
.
Please. I love it. I love
you
.

“You're beautiful, Misty,” Graham whispered. “So fucking beautiful.
Damn it.”
His words wound into a tight groan, and he hung on, his fingers hard on her soft flesh.

He kept thrusting as Misty held herself up, gasping, laughing, groaning. Everything was slippery and hot, wild and bright.

“
Goddess
.” Graham rocked back, fists light on Misty's back, coming into her one last time.

Misty wriggled back on him, loving the tight fit, the heat, the crazy feeling. Then Graham fell onto her, bracing himself to keep from crushing her. He took her down onto the grass, and gathered her back into him, still joined with her.

Graham kissed her face, her lips, her hair, arms wrapping around her. “Damn,” he said, and laughed. “That was fucking wonderful.”

“Yes,” Misty said, snuggling happily back into him. “Wonderful.”

A lovely feeling. Misty hugged it to her as she held on to Graham, letting herself bask in the moment. Graham and the moonlight shining on her, on her garden, on the flowers around them. Misty snuggled back into him, bringing his hard hand up to her mouth to kiss it.

She'd been made for this night, she decided. And Misty was going to enjoy every last second of it.

 • • • 

G
raham gazed down at Misty lying in her bed, exhausted after another round of lovemaking. He'd carried her in here, she already half-asleep. Xavier had decided to be discreet and guard the front, so Misty hadn't been embarrassed to be carried through the house, their clothes piled in a little heap on top of her.

She'd drifted off after their last time, but Graham didn't sleep.

He'd gone for days without sleeping before, but this was the longest time he'd lasted without true rest. Shifter wolves could lie in the sun and soak up warmth, relaxing to the point of sleep, but still being alert.

Now Graham was afraid even to doze. He knew with every dream, Oison grew closer, and he couldn't afford to let him win.

He'd make sure Misty was safe—even if Xavier, the traitor, had to guard her—then he'd get with Reid and Eric and figure out a way to find Oison and take him down. They couldn't wait much longer—Oison might even now be preparing with his Fae friends to round up Shifters and start controlling them. Jace could help Shifters remove Collars, but it was problematic, and Graham liked the direct approach, and he knew Eric did too.

For now, he'd enjoy his moment with Misty. Graham nestled down into her warmth. He loved her with his entire body, the mate bond snaking around his heart.

He'd suspected the mate bond had been growing for months now, but he hadn't let himself acknowledge it. He'd known it for certain when he'd helped Andrea cure Misty with the herbal poultice Andrea's Fae father had sent with her. Graham had felt the warmth in his heart, the burn that had touched him at the same moment Misty had clutched her chest as though something burned her too.

Graham reveled in it now, closing his eyes and drawing in Misty's scent.

Come to me . . .

Graham jerked awake. At least, he hoped to the Goddess he was awake.

Moonlight filled Misty's room, the moon at the full. Moonlight was magical. Even Shifters, who didn't much like magic, acknowledged that on the full moon, when the Mother Goddess was at her height, mystical things could happen.