Claiming Her (Keeping Her Series) (21 page)

“He wants to make me a
slave,” she said even as he pulled her closer.

“Not going to fucking
happen.”  The snarl fueling his voice was actually reassuring in this case.

“That asshole!”  Miley planted
her face into Lucas’ chest and forced herself to breathe deep.

“He’s already
decapitated and disassembled, baby.  He just hasn’t noticed yet.” Also more
reassuring than it should have been.

None of the men had
been willing to bring their women along, and both Cassie and Clytie refused to
lower the numbers and be a burden by pulling their mates away from a pack show
of force. It was decided they would stay in the vault with Ian while the rest
of them and Miley went to the Challenge Gathering.  This was met with
unhappiness on pretty much all sides.  The men emphatically did not want to leave
their mates alone and vulnerable.  Cassie and Clytie did not like their men
going into battle without them there, but had to accept the fact that since
weapons were not allowed (unless you were the Council Rep), they would be of
little help against a pack of wolves.  Ian was just plain unhappy to miss the
action, even if he got quality time with the prettiest pack members (the ones
also not mated to his father).  And everyone was worried about Cleo because she
had yet to check in.  Eli had found out her plane had landed back at home base
so at least they knew she was on her way back, even if she had not called or
answered her phone when they called. 

Having to leave without
verbal or visual confirmation of her safety was almost as hard on Lucas as taking
his mate to a challenge.  While this one was to be a one-on-one fight, where
the rest of the pack was merely watching, blood would be up.  Wolves especially
were creatures led by their animal nature.  Get that many wolves together in
that kind of situation and bystanders had been known to get hurt, rarely, but
it had happened.  He would be damned if it happened to Miley.  Since he had no
choice but to bring her or face the fucking shape-shifters governing body, he
would surround her with all his best trained and most trusted pack mates — all of
them.  Whatever Rickarts had planned with this ridiculous challenge, he had no
hope of winning.  While Lucas fought, Logan, Demon and all the rest would see
to Miley first.  And no one was getting through that bunch.

As for Cleo, without
any choice in the matter, Lucas left her a terse message to get her ass in the
vault when she arrived and lock it down.  When he returned, there would be a
reckoning.  She wanted him to treat her like a member of the pack, so be it. 
They would see if she still wanted that when he reamed her ass for going
against direct orders.

Because the challenge
had been official and made through the Council, the meet would happen at a
neutral location.  With one pack on the West Coast and the other in the East
that meant a central location everyone could reach by the prescribed time of 6 am
tomorrow morning.  Just now, they were preparing to leave and Lucas headed for
the vault to give his final instructions to Ian.  The vault ran the entire length
of the courtyard complex so there was an entrance from the garage, the pack
house and, of course, the one through his wine cellar at the main house.  He
had planned for the contingency that his family might at some point go on lock
down for more than a few hours so not only was the place well-stocked for WWIII
if need be, it also looked like the rest of his home.  Comfortable and
opulent.  Plus, there was a swimming pool which he could hear Ian discussing
somewhere in the distance, while he came down the hall.  He could smell Clytie
and Cassandra, as well as Roxy, and somewhere down here, Bernie.  When he
realized his son was heading for the women and he scented who else was in the
halls, he quickened his pace. 
The boy has a death wish.

***

“So this is where Lucas
Gibbs lives,” Cassandra said looking out over the Olympic-size swimming pool.  “Figures.”

Clytie laughed at her
tone, but could not deny that the pool was a very nice touch.  “He definitely
has our vault beat hands down.  No wonder Ben is jealous.”

“Yeah, ‘cause when we
were hunkered down in front of the monitors watching the battle between the men
we love and the Bone Crusher clan lead by Demon’s deranged hillbilly wolf-shifter
stepfather, a pool would have been nice.”

Clytie laughed again.  Cassandra
picked Roxy up when she held up her hands for a lift and heaved her higher
while the three of them gazed at what looked to be a tropical garden on the far
side of the pool.  They both stood in the extended quiet contemplating the
space. 

Cassie pursed her lips
and tilted her head in question. “But does he have cable?  That is the real
question here.”

Clytie was still
chuckling when they heard someone else enter the poolroom.

“Hey, Cassandra. 
Clytie.  Little Person.”  They all turned to see Ian coming down the hallway
and Clytie narrowed her eyes at his refusal to remember Roxie had a name.

“Ian.”  Both women said
his name at the same time in the same clearly exasperated way.  Ian, however,
was oblivious.  It did give Clytie a small bit of satisfaction that Roxy still
stared intently at the boy/man whenever he was in the same space, and he very
clearly refused to acknowledge that the girl made him nervous. 
Big tough
lion.  Right.

“Hope you ladies
brought your bathing suits.”  He waggled his eyes lasciviously.  “We could be
down here
alone
for
days.
  But if you didn’t, also
excellent.” 
A second later Ian stood eclipsed by a large shadow and he froze, turning
to see Demon standing right behind him.  Breathing.  With Demon’s brows
furrowed, his eyes narrowed and glaring wolf gold, he looked like his namesake.

“Hey, Demon,” Ian
stepped back hurriedly, “I was just welcoming your lady . . .”  He cleared his
throat nervously, words dying off under the heat of that stare.  “You look
good.  Have you been working out?”

Cassandra snorted,
Clytie rolled her eyes.  “Ian,” she said, stepping up to him with a barely
concealed laugh, and motioning into the distance, “leave this place and go far
away.”

Ian cleared his
throat.  His eyes on Demon.  “Well . . .”

“Move!” Demon growled
his one word, an order and a threat all in one.

Ian moved.  He passed
Lucas on the way out, who had to wonder at his son’s continued insistence to
court death when pretty women were involved.

“Just going to see what
Miley is up to,” Ian said as he passed, and the words caused Lucas to stop in
his tracks and turn to glare at his son’s retreating back.

“Miley is packing our
bags.  You get your ass to operations and check that command has been switched
to the vault and communications are running smooth.”

“Jeez,” he had the gall
to mutter within his father’s hearing.  “Mating is the death of humor around
here.”

Lucas gnashed his teeth
but let it go. He had a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.  He had to
talk to Demon, and since he had promised to keep the alpha wolf apprised of the
Rickarts situation, he had to get a call in to Griffin Hale.  Then he had to
find his mate and make sure she was as okay as she claimed.  He did not like
her going into this situation, but he could admit that he was looking forward
to the challenge itself. 

It was past time to
taste this wolf’s blood on his tongue.  After the attack on the island and the
near death of Hale’s mate, what Rickarts had pulled with the Council that put
that look in Miley’s eyes was the final nail in that particular coffin.  And
the man had been pretty fuckin’ dead before that.  Now Lucas was determined to
gleefully and painfully end him in a way that no one would misunderstand the
warning.  This particular healer and anyone else claimed by Lionsgate were off
the fucking menu.  Period.

His anger was still
barely contained and it coated his voice when he hit the poolroom. “Demon.  I
need a minute.”

Clytie smiled at Demon in
understanding, and he tipped his chin at her and followed Lucas nearly to the
vault’s outer door.

Without preamble, he
turned and spoke.  “Logan just got a hit on Bidel.”

“You are fucking
shitting me,” Demon growled out, his eyes flashing wolf gold, and his claws
flicking out at the end of his fingers like razor sharp blades.

“For obvious reasons,
we can’t move on it ourselves until after the challenge.”  Lucas gritted out,
his own lion near the surface.  “I sent scouts to check out the lead with
orders to observe and follow if it is him.”

“If it’s verified . . .,”
Demon started on a mutter, flexing his hands, and pulling in his claws.

Lucas spoke before he
could finish the thought.  “We will end this fucker if we have to do it fresh
from the bloody challenge with Rickarts heart still warm in my fucking teeth.”

Demon grunted his
agreement.  Then he glanced behind him and Lucas understood the drive to find
his mate.  Because he was fighting the same need to hold his own safe in his
arms.

“Go to your mate.  You
have twenty minutes before the chopper arrives to take us to the plane.  Then I
need you sharp, with your head in the game.”  Lucas let him see his deadly
earnest.  “My mate will be on the front lines, I’m trusting you and the rest of
the pack to see her safe while I’m distracted by the fight.”

Demon growled at the
thought.  “Not a fucking mosquito will get through,” he promised on an angry
rumble.  “You just rip that fucker to pieces quick like, so we can get on with
ending other,
long overdue, old as the
fucking hills
business.”

Lucas jerked his chin
in agreement and they both went to find their mates.  He could end Rickarts
fairly quickly, the man just needed to bleed pain for a bit first.  He could
fit a whole lot of suffering into a small amount of time if he had to.  If it
meant they end two threats to the pack in one day, hell, he could be downright
supersonic in his pain application.

***

After the quick pack
and flight in preparation for the challenge location, having to spend a
sleepless night in a hotel room in Omaha was anti-climactic to say the least. 
Not that Lucas gave Miley the chance to dwell on the Council’s unremarkable
choice that was Omaha, Nebraska.  The second they hit the room, he dropped the
bags, locked the door, and grabbed her around the waist, throwing her on the
bed before she could utter one protest.  Not that she would have.  She was just
as anxious to distract Lucas from his heavy thoughts as he was for her not to
worry.  She did not doubt Lucas would win the fight.  Jeffrey Rickarts was no
match for the deadly weapon that was SEAL-trained Lucas Gibbs.  She knew enough
about the alpha wolf to know he would have a plan.  The dirtier the fight, the
better he would like it.  Case in point trying to get her declared mentally
ill.  It didn’t get much dirtier than that.  But more than her own worry over
slim possibilities, she hated the way Lucas was closed off and tense on her
behalf.  He didn’t want her out of his sight, and he had not cracked a single
smile since they received the call.  Miley didn’t want to add to his
responsibilities, she wanted to give him some relief from them.  If that meant
she had to tease and sex up the big sexy male to get him to relax . . . so be
it.
 

Lucas came down over
her, pressing her into the bed full body, and it was only then she realized
while she was distracted with her thoughts that he had stripped down to naked. 
She must be more worried than she realized to miss
that
show. 
Damn
it.
  “I don’t suppose you want to get dressed so I can watch you strip
again?”

Lucas looked down at
her in doubt so she smiled a winning smile.  “It’s just that I like that part a
whole lot and I rarely get the chance to watch it happen.”

“You rarely get the
chance?”

“You usually strip
while we are kissing or
BAM!
” She slapped her hands down on his bare
shoulders for emphasis.  “I look up, or
you walk in the room already
stripped.  And I’m having a bad day, and tomorrow promises to
suck. 
So
if you could get dressed and then strip, maybe . . .
slow
.  That would
do a lot to salvage my evening.”

Lucas lifted a brow,
his expression void of expression.  “Anything else?”

Miley could not tell if
he was receptive but anything could happen tomorrow so she went for it anyway. 
“The shower here is not the mega super-duper luxury ‘I have way too much money’
version you have at home, but I’ve been thinking about your promise to join me
for a soak, and the many thoughts of you all wet and slicked down with soap
were not unhelpful to my frame of mind throughout the day.  We could embrace
that idea.”

His face still not
giving her anything, she went on before he could answer.  “And when we get home,
you could take me for a ride on your
super-hot
2002 Harley Davidson VRSC
V-Rod.”