Читать книгу Dark Wolf Returning - Rhyannon Byrd, Rhyannon Byrd - Страница 9

Chapter 1

Two days later...

Eli Drake blinked his bleary eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Shit. Had he drank so much he was hallucinating? If so, his pickled mind couldn’t have come up with a more stunning, confounding vision. The hole-in-the-wall, small town Texas bar where he and his crew had landed for the night was a decent enough place to settle for a few hours while they tossed back some liquid therapy—and after the last assignment they’d taken, they’d definitely needed it. Hell, they could have drowned themselves in whiskey and beer for days on end, and it wouldn’t have been enough to wipe out the horror of what they’d seen in that little South American village.

So, yeah, the woman who’d just walked into the bar had to be a by-product of his inebriation.

Only...as far as he could recall, he’d only had two whiskeys. For a man his size, even if he had been human, that wouldn’t have been enough to make him start seeing...imagining... Damn it. He couldn’t even get the words out within the privacy of his own mind.

Maybe it’s a stress vision? I probably just need a break from my shitty day job.

Yeah, that was a better explanation than the alcohol, and extreme stress had been the riding theme of his life these past few weeks. Months. Years.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Eli focused on forcing the vision away. He didn’t need crap like that screwing with his head. Sure, he was going to have to face her soon enough, considering he and his men were finally headed back to the mountains where he’d grown up, to his hometown of Shadow Peak, where the Silvercrest Lycans lived. But he wasn’t ready for it now. Not tonight.

Facing Carla Reyes again after three years of banishment was something that would take battle armor and a heavy duty, steel-lined cup to protect his balls.

Fate, however, apparently didn’t give a damn.

When the Lycan to his left softly swore under his breath, his deep voice rough with appreciation, Eli choked back a biting curse. Christ, he wasn’t imagining things if others could see her, too. She was really there. In the flesh. Carla-Fucking-Reyes.

His next indrawn breath confirmed it, his dick hardening with ridiculous ease beneath the fly of his jeans. The soft, sleepy, feminine moan that followed made him look down, and he was momentarily surprised to find a woman straddling his lap, her face planted against his chest. He’d completely forgotten she was there, but then, it’d been a while since she’d spoken. He couldn’t recall her name, but she wasn’t in any shape to remind him. She was out cold, a line of drool slipping from the corner of her pink lips.

Hmm... Classy chick.

With a jerk of his chin, he signaled Kyle Maddox, his second-in-command and the guy who’d spotted Carla, to deal with the comatose blonde. But it wasn’t the woman on his lap that had Kyle’s attention, his nostrils flaring as he pulled in the Runner’s scent. Eli knew the moment his friend pegged her as a half-blood Lycan, his dark brows slowly rising on his forehead.

Eli gestured again to the blonde in his lap. “Take her.”

Kyle snorted as he moved to his feet and lifted the woman into his arms. “And do what with her?”

Keeping his gaze locked on Carla, Eli said, “Just make sure she gets somewhere safe for the night. I don’t want one of these assholes in here taking advantage of her.”

“She’s definitely a local girl, so I’ll talk to the servers. Maybe one of them can take her home with them.”

“Good,” he muttered, impatient for Kyle to get the hell away from him before Carla reached the table. “Just do it.”

Carla had spotted him in the crowd and was headed his way, her gaze sliding toward the nearby group of Lycans standing at the bar—Sam, James, and Lev—who were watching her with unmistakable interest. Even Kyle, who had moved over to join them with the blonde in his arms, had his full attention focused on Carla. She looked exhausted, but gorgeous. At five-six, she was just tall enough that she didn’t look like a child when standing beside a man of Eli’s height, but was still...petite. Lithely muscled and battle-scarred, but somehow still incredibly feminine. Big brown eyes flecked with green and framed by thick lashes. Slim, delicate nose. Waves of thick, silky hair the colors of sunshine and honey and gold, the soft bangs falling across her brow. She was, quite simply, stunning. The most perfect, alluring, sensual female he’d ever known.

And, Jesus, that mouth of hers had always been his undoing. Full, sexy, sweet. Velvety and pink, like the petals of a flower. He wanted to devour her. Kiss her until he drew blood, which wasn’t surprising. From the moment she’d hit adulthood, this little half-breed had always drawn the hunger of both the man and the beast inside him. A hunger that was as visceral and dark as it was insatiable. How he’d fought it for so many years, when he’d been living with the pack, he didn’t know. He should have been given a damn medal for not falling on her like a rabid, sex-starved animal the instant she came of age—but he’d somehow kept himself under tight control, his fears for her safety the only thing that had a chance in hell of keeping him in line.

He’d been a goddamn saint when it came to Reyes...until that last week before his banishment.

As if they were some kind of penance for his sins, the memories of her from that week still woke him in the dead of night in a sweat, filled with an aching need that was primal, savage, and raw. So powerful he could taste it in the back of his throat. Here he was, three years later, and he still dreamt about her every night he didn’t drink himself into a stupor.

Studying her expression, Eli wondered if she was about to make him pay for the carnal things that had happened that week. Is that why she’d tracked him down? To tell him she’d rather see him dead before letting him return to the pack? Because that was definitely hatred he could see burning in her beautiful, narrowed eyes.

Shoving his emotional reaction to her presence to the back of his mind, he focused instead on simply watching her...waiting. Eating up the sight of her in the tight jeans and T-shirt and battered hiking boots.

At a quick glance, you would never guess she was a hunter of deadly werewolves. Certainly, the clueless humans in the bar, who had no idea they had shape-shifters in their midst, would have never guessed she was both battle and weapons trained. The Silvercrest Lycans would be surprised to know that much of that training had come from Eli himself, since it’d been in secret. Every aspect of their complicated “friendship” had been private and secret and forbidden.

God, he’d been so drawn to her. Though he was older than her, she hadn’t been a typical giddy twenty-two-year-old when their relationship had developed. She’d been sweet, but reserved. Eager for friends, and yet, wary to trust. But she’d trusted him. Past tense.

Eli had never told a soul about them, and he could only assume that Carla had done the same. Though not for the same reasons.

He moved to his feet when she reached the table, fighting the powerful urge to pull her into his arms, and the next thing he knew her tiny fist was launching toward his mouth. Whack! Damn, she’d hit him so hard it jerked his head back, the coppery taste of his blood instantly filling his mouth.

Softly laughing under his breath, Eli lifted his hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his lip as he brought his gaze back to hers.

“What the hell is so funny?” Her soft words vibrated with fury.

“Nothing,” he murmured, thinking he’d come close to getting what he wanted. Someone’s blood had been drawn, just not hers. And not in the way he’d hoped for.

Contempt clouded her expression. “You never could just give an honest answer to a question, could you?”

“Insults and accusations already?” he drawled, sliding back into his chair. The worst thing in the world he could do was let her know how the sight of her affected him, especially when he could feel his own angry frustration with fate and life and her blatant hatred building inside him, desperate for release. “That didn’t take long.”

She drew in a sharp breath at his snide tone, the skin around her eyes tightening as she took the seat across from him and asked a passing server for a Scotch. It was clear from the look on her face that she hadn’t meant to launch into the topic of their past. She was irritated with herself that she had, and seemed determined to get to the point of this strange, unexpected visit. “You know about your dad?”

“That he’s dead?” He lifted a hand, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I heard about it.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, a painful mix of emotions flashed through her eyes before she managed to bank them. “And you didn’t think to come home?” she asked in a careful tone.

Brows drawn together, he tried to reason out why she thought the death of his psychotic father would herald his immediate return. Had the entire pack thought he would come crawling back the moment he learned that dear ol’ daddy had staged a bloodthirsty coup that resulted in the death of the pack’s entire governing body, the League of Elders? An attack that would have led to Stefan Drake’s total control of the Silvercrest Lycans, if not for the help of the half-breeds his racist father had tried so hard to turn the pack against.

The League of Elders might have banished Eli for the unsanctioned kill he’d made on one of the rapists who’d attacked his sister three years ago...but they weren’t the only reason he’d stayed away. Hell, they weren’t even at the top of the list. No, his reasons for staying away had far more to do with... Well, with things he spent a lot of time trying not to think about. Things he was still trying to figure out how to deal with.

And every damn one of those things had to do with the woman sitting across from him.

Voice low, he finally responded to her question. “Once I heard that you and Eric and Elise were all right, I didn’t see any reason to rush home. But I didn’t plan on staying away forever, Rey. I was coming back.”

“When?” she asked, as the server set her drink on the table.

“Now, if you can believe it. That’s where we’re headed.”

“Bullshit.” She gave a bitter laugh. “You know what I think? I think you were waiting for me to come to you. And here I am,” she offered with a sharp smile, spreading her arms wide, and he couldn’t help but notice the way the cotton shirt stretched tight across her mouthwatering breasts. Then she leaned forward, bracing her palms flat on the rickety little table with its scarred surface and dirty ashtray, and lowered her voice. “But I’m not here to beg for myself, Eli. I just need you and your ragtag little group to come back with me and do what you do best.”

Hoping to rile her into hitting him again, like some kind of masochist—though he was pretty sure he just wanted to feel her hands on him—his lips curled in a cocky smirk. “You have no idea what I do best. You only got part of the show, if you’ll recall.”

“Not interested,” she grunted in response to his silky, suggestive tone, before taking a drink of her Scotch. She winced as she swallowed the smoky alcohol, then wiped her mouth and shot his cocky expression right back at him. “And let’s face it, Eli. The only thing you’ve ever done well is kill.”

“Ouch, Reyes. If I didn’t know better,” he murmured, clucking his tongue, “I’d say you don’t like me anymore.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just get your band of Merry Men together and let’s get out of here.”

“Merry Men?” he snorted. “I’m no bloody Robin Hood.”

She smirked. “Yeah, what was I thinking? The idea of giving something to the less fortunate is probably a little sappy for a guy like you.”

“A guy like me?”

Lifting her brows, she said, “You know, the big bad mercenary who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone, except for how much they can pay him. I hear you’ve cultivated the reputation well.”

Irritation burned through his veins, not easy to hide. But he managed with a lazy grin and a slow drawl. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. A lot of men will lie when it suits them.”

“Oh, God.” She suddenly started to laugh so hard it made him scowl. Wiping the tears from her glittering eyes, she finally managed to splutter, “D-don’t I know it.”

Hell, he’d walked right into that one.

A fraction of his control began to slip, his hands flexing as he fought the urge to reach out and grab her, yanking her into his lap. “You’re pushing it, Reyes.”

Her laughter faded, and she kept her gaze on the Scotch as she swirled it in her glass. “If you’re uncomfortable with my attitude or reactions,” she murmured, “then I gotta tell you that I don’t really care. I’m not here to make you feel better, or to talk about the past.” She stopped swirling her drink, her dark gaze lifting, locking with his. “I’m here because your family needs you. You do recall that you have a brother and sister, right? And I can only imagine they have a hell of a lot to say to you right now, considering you haven’t been returning their calls.” She pushed back from the table and gave him a look that would probably scare a lot of men into doing whatever the hell she wanted them to. “Now get off your ass and let’s get out of here.”

“No,” he rasped. “Not until you answer a few of my questions.”

“Like we have the time,” she started to argue, but he cut her off.

“We have as much time as we need, because I’m not going anywhere until you fucking spill.” He took a deep swallow of his whiskey, and waited for her to bring her chair back to the table, before asking, “You came here alone?”

“Of course.” At the look on his face, she said, “What? You thought someone needed to come with me and hold my hand?”

His jaw got tighter. “Why now?”

She glared back at him as if she couldn’t understand what his problem was. “War isn’t enough of a reason?”

“From what I’ve understood from Eric’s messages, the Silvercrest have been in trouble for a while now.”

“With no help from you, huh?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Like I said, I was planning to head back.”

“Right. How kind of you.”

“Why now, Reyes? Why you? You didn’t rush out and try to track me down months ago, when this all started. So tell me the truth. Why— Now?”

She held his stare, and he could tell she was planning on just waiting him out, until she let herself really look him in the eye. Whatever she saw there, whether it was anger or his sheer determination—it made her frown deepen. Forcing the words out between her quickening breaths, she told him, “It was the right time. I felt...raw. And I suddenly knew I could find you. When I was in danger, the bond started to pull at me—”

“So you feel it, too?” he cut in sharply, interrupting her explanation. His heart started trying to pound its way through his chest with hard, violent beats, and it was all he could do to stay in his damn chair in his relaxed pose, instead of surging to his feet and grabbing her shoulders, demanding she tell him everything.

Still scowling, she cast a wary look toward the hand still holding his glass, as if surprised it hadn’t shattered in his brutal grip. Her chin lifted in assent.

“I’ve wondered about that.” He tossed back his drink, slamming the empty glass onto the table, while his thoughts churned. He felt pain, frustration, loss. But mostly rage. A deep, seething rage for everything that had happened, and why.

He cleared his throat, his hooded gaze locked in hard and tight on her face, trying to read her expression. The bond should have enabled him to feel her emotions as easily as his own, but it didn’t, because it was only half-formed. He’d realized that right from the start, though it’d taken time to sort out exactly how the partially formed bond would affect him. And it’d kept him up at nights, wondering if Carla was being affected in the same way.

When he couldn’t get a damn thing from the look on her face, Eli lowered his gaze to the table and heard himself saying, “For what it’s worth, I didn’t even realize the bond had taken hold until almost a week after I left. By that time, I was already in South America.”

When he looked up to see her reaction to his confession, she turned her head to the side and laughed again. The sound was hollow and heavy, sounding as exhausted as she looked. “Well,” she murmured. “I guess it’s good to know I’m not the only one stuck in this hell.”

His jaw tightened, but he forced out a slow breath, not wanting to rise to her bait. And she was definitely baiting him, spoiling for a fight. Damn it, he was handling this all wrong, but it was like a train wreck he couldn’t stop from happening right in front of him. He was pissed at how badly he wanted her. At how fucking sexy she looked. How angry she was at him.

Knowing he needed to change the subject, he asked, “What were you in danger from?”

Her mouth flattened with irritation, as if she hadn’t meant to let that bit slip out either, her reluctance making him even more suspicious. He could feel it in his gut, the fact that there was something she didn’t want to tell him. “I’ll sit here all damn night and wait you out if I have to,” he threatened in a low voice. “But you’re going to answer that question.”

She took a deep breath, her nostrils flaring a little, and he felt the pull down in his lower body get even tighter as he wondered if she could scent him the way he could scent her. Not just on a Lycan level, but one that went even deeper. And if she could, was it affecting her, making her hungry for something only he could give her?

Her head dropped back on her shoulders, then dropped forward, and he could have sworn he heard her give a soft growl. Then she lifted her head, looking right at him, and nervously licked her lips. “I know Eric’s been leaving you messages at a number he had for you, asking you to come home. Didn’t he tell you about Elise?”

Because he was so often in places where cell phone coverage was nonexistent, and hadn’t had a permanent base since leaving the pack, Eli had used a couple of different messaging services for both work and his family. It was one of those numbers that Eric had been calling.

Answering her question, he said, “I haven’t heard from Eric the last couple of weeks. He sounded pretty pissed off in his last message, because I hadn’t returned any of his calls. But I wasn’t in a situation where I could talk to him,” he explained, which was only partially true. “What is it you think he should have told me about Elise? Is she all right?”

“Two weeks ago, Elise was kidnapped by Sebastian Claymore.”

He shot forward to the edge of his seat. “Was she hurt? What the hell happened?”

From what he’d been able to piece together from Eric’s messages, Eli knew that a Lycan named Roy Claymore had assumed control of the Whiteclaw pack, and Sebastian and Harris Claymore were his nephews. Eric’s last message had mentioned something about Harris being under suspicion for hassling their sister, Elise, and that had been enough for Eli to know he needed to get his affairs in order so that he could head back, even though he’d known it would mean facing Carla. Elise had already been through too much not to have her brothers there looking out for her. He just hadn’t realized the situation would escalate so quickly. Had thought he still had time to make it back, before he was needed.

“She’s fine, Eli. She made it out of there that same day, and she wasn’t...they didn’t hurt her.”

“Eric mentioned that the Runners were having trouble with the Whiteclaw, but said he’d go into more detail when I got in touch with him. What exactly did the Claymores want with her?”

“It’s a long story, and not one for someplace this crowded. She was scared, but she wasn’t harmed. I made sure to give them a hard enough time that it kept them busy.”

“You were with her?” he asked sharply, while the mother of all headaches started pounding in his temples.

“I was taken as well,” she murmured, clearly not wanting to make a big deal out of it. “They were able to sneak up on us, and we were taken back to Hawkley together.”

They’d taken his woman and his sister to Hawkley, the Whiteclaw pack’s hometown? A place where they would have been surrounded by those bastards?

Oh, hell, those sons of bitches are gonna die.

There were about a million questions he wanted answers to, but Eli scraped out the most important one first: “Did they touch you?”

The idea of her in danger—a danger he hadn’t been able to sense because of the weakness of their bond—was too much for him, making his inner beast seethe for release. His gums ached from the heavy weight of his fangs, the tips of his fingers burning as his claws prickled beneath his skin. He couldn’t believe he was a fraction away from shifting in the middle of a goddamn human bar, but that’s how this woman had always affected him, making him do things he’d never thought he would otherwise do.

Instead of tensing up and getting riled by his demanding tone, her posture had relaxed, one lightly muscled arm hooked over the back of her chair. “That isn’t something that should concern you.”

“Did they touch you?” he asked again, his voice now little more than a snarl.

Cocking her head a bit to the side, she studied him through her lashes. After a heavy silence, she finally said, “I would have been raped if I hadn’t managed to get free. As it was, I just got knocked around a bit.”

He wanted to roar at how casual she sounded about that, when it made him want to go for the blood of every Lycan who’d hit her, gleefully ripping them apart, one painful piece at a time. “How did you get away?”

“I knew that when the Runners realized we were missing, Wyatt would—” She paused suddenly, giving him a strange look. “Uh, when Eric left you messages, did he happen to mention that Elise and Wyatt Pallaton are bonded now?”

“I didn’t know it’d happened, but Eric thought it was headed that way.”

He could tell she was trying to figure out how he felt about his sister permanently attaching herself to the male who was Carla’s Bloodrunning partner, but he didn’t know. Until he saw the two of them together, he wasn’t forming an opinion. If Pallaton treated his sister right and made her happy, he’d have no issue with him. If he didn’t, Eli was going to kick his ass. It was as simple as that.

Reaching for her glass again, she said, “Anyway, I knew Wyatt and the others were coming, but there was no way they would get to her if I didn’t create a distraction. So that’s what I did.”

“And afterward?” he pressed, sensing that she was leaving out a hell of a lot. He had a strong suspicion her distraction had required her to put her own life at even greater risk to save his sister’s, and it made him both grateful and viciously angry.

She downed the last of her drink, and set the glass back on the table. “While I was making my escape, I heard some things that compelled me to steal some money and a car and come after you.”

“To drag me back home. For the pack.”

She gave him a look that would have wilted a lesser man. “It sure as hell isn’t because I want you there.”

“What did you hear?” he demanded, noticing the discoloration on her cheekbone as she turned her head and the light caught it. It was a healing bruise, and based on how many days since she’d gotten it, he knew it must have initially been brutal. Lycans had accelerated healing abilities, and though she was only half wolf, her body healed much faster than a human’s. Given the look of her face now, Eli imagined she’d been more than knocked around a little, and he was looking forward to paying back the ones who were responsible. In blood and pain and death.

“Before I left Hawkley,” she finally replied, bringing that dark gaze back to his, “I overheard some of the Whiteclaw soldiers talking about their plans for the Silvercrest. They haven’t managed to secure the number of soldiers they were hoping for from other packs, so they’ve come up with a new plan. One even deadlier than we’d feared. Since you said Eric didn’t go into a lot of detail in his messages, it sounds like there’s a lot you need to be brought up to speed on. But you can believe me when I say we need a miracle, Eli. Unfortunately, the only thing we’ve got on our side, other than my guys, is you.”

He knew who she meant by her “guys.” There were five men who made up the Silvercrest’s Bloodrunning team: Mason Dillinger, Jeremy Burns, Brody Carter, Wyatt Pallaton, and Cian Hennessey. Actually, he needed to make that six men, since his brother Eric was now working as a Runner, though the last Eli had heard, his brother wasn’t partnered up yet the way the others were.

At his silence, she added, “You were always rumored to be the most ruthless wolf the pack had ever seen. Jeremy told us you tore the male who attacked Elise into pieces. That’s the kind of man we need.”

For a moment, he was surprised that Jeremy knew what had happened, since his father had purposefully kept the Runners ignorant of Elise’s attack. The only reason Carla had known was because Eli had told her. She wouldn’t have been able to share that confidence with any of her fellow Bloodrunners without giving away their secret relationship, but that didn’t mean that the truth hadn’t eventually been leaked by someone else. For all he knew, Elise herself had been the one to finally share the horrific story. Or perhaps Eric, since he was now one of them.

Not that it mattered. Regardless of how Jeremy had learned what he’d done, what she’d said was true. Eli had ripped that bastard to pieces, and he didn’t regret it. But it bothered him that Carla might think of him as some kind of monster, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking her if that’s what she’d meant.

“Are you calling me a monster?”

“No.” She slowly arched her brows. “I’d only use that term if I was talking about your personality.”

He let that slide, knowing she was willing to say anything to make the canyon between them even deeper.

“So how did you find me?”

She shifted a little uncomfortably in the chair, but she didn’t refuse to explain. “It was like the thing with the Whiteclaw jolted me out of a fog, and I suddenly knew that it would work. That if I wanted to, I’d be able to pinpoint your location. So instead of making my way back home with the others, I stole a car. Grabbed a map from the glove box. Called Wyatt and told him I was coming after you.”

Staring at her beautiful face, Eli felt a confusing wave of emotion sweep through him, piercing and sharp. He’d heard that in times of danger, a bonded mate could use the connection that created the bond to locate their other half. And if the distance was too great, they could use a map to help feel the “pull” that would take them in the right direction. From the sound of it, it’d taken Carla several weeks to find him, which seemed longer than he would have expected. But, then, their bond wasn’t complete, which meant it probably didn’t pull as strongly as others.

He refused to acknowledge how much that little fact irritated him. He hadn’t had any right forming a bond with her in the first place, much less to be angry that it wasn’t as powerful as it should have been.

“You need to come back,” she said, the quiet words breaking into his thoughts. “Your pack needs you, and Elise and Eric need you.”

“And what about you? Do you need me?”

She didn’t try to shy away from the question. Looking him right in the eye, she said, “Like I need a hole in the head.”

There were so many things that he wanted to say to that. The anger that had initially risen up in the face of her own rage was fading, replaced by a raw, intense knot of regret that was making him break out in a sweat. “We have a lot we need to talk about, Rey.”

“Like hell we do. All I need is your ass on that mountaintop, ready to do battle, and not a damn thing more.”

Eli gave a frustrated shake of his head. “You really think we can fight together and not talk about the elephant here in the room with us?”

“That’s exactly what I think, because I have a few conditions before I agree to let you come home.”

“You came here for me,” he pointed out, scowling as he picked up on one of his guys snickering under their breath. It sounded like Sam, and he knew the jackass was enjoying hearing him get his ass handed to him by a woman. “What do you want, Reyes?”

Voice little more than a whisper, she kept her gaze locked on his, and said, “I want the bond broken.”

His muscles pulled so tight he was surprised he didn’t shatter, a feeling of dread coiling through his insides that felt remarkably similar to fear. “It can’t be done.”

“It can.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Come home with me, Eli. Fight for your pack. And when the blood clears, you and I can erase what never should have happened in the first place.” She leaned forward in her chair, her eyes bright. “We can finally end this nightmare, once and for all.”

“You really think you can do it?” he scoffed. “Break an unbreakable bond?”

“Yes.” She gave him a slow, determined smile. “I plan on breaking the hell out of it.”