Cole’s Redemption (9 page)

“The what?” He shot her a quick look, briefly taking his eyes off the road.

“It’s not common knowledge, even in the paranormal community. Born wolves are immortal.
We can be killed by accident or treachery, but other than that, we’re around for a
long time.”

“How old are you?” he asked curiously.

“I’m only thirty, in human years,” she told him. “But I won’t look much older than
I am now for as long as I live.”

“That’s pretty handy,” he joked. “No wrinkles or gray hair.”

“There is that.”

“What about Nick? How old is he?”

“More than two hundred.”
Older than he deserves to be.

“Holy crap! That’s quite a secret to carry around. Just think of all the changes he’s
seen,” Zan mused. “The history. He’s been alive since America was a brand-new nation.”

“So has my uncle.”

“What’s your uncle like?”

She considered that. “Stern. A stickler for rules, and he trusts few people. But he’s
honest and tries to be a fair leader.”

Zan said nothing to that. Perhaps he felt Damien hadn’t been fair in his dealings
with her father. Not that it mattered what her mate or any of his friends thought.
They weren’t there.

When they arrived in town, Selene directed him to the cheap motel where she’d been
staying. As soon as they pulled in to the parking lot, Zan wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“After seeing this fleabag, I’m glad we’re getting you out of here.”

“Aww, I was going to invite you to stay here with me instead of the compound.”

From her smile, he knew she was kidding. “In a place where the cockroaches are the
size of Doberman pinschers? I’ll pass, thanks.”

Truthfully, she was eager to see this place at her back as well. Inside her stark,
musty little room, she gathered her few things, stuffing jeans, T-shirts, and underthings
into her duffel bag. A few toiletries and her mini tablet were last, and she was done.

“That’s it?” He frowned.

“I travel light.”

Before she could protest, he plucked the duffel from the bed and led her out. Then
he tossed it into the back seat of the double cab and they were on their way.

“Feel like a drink?”

For some reason, the simple invitation warmed her. “Sure. I found this place called
the Cross-eyed Grizzly if you want to go there.”

“Oh, we’ve been there a time or three.”

“So I’ve heard.”

God, the man’s smile was devastating. She was willing to bet he could get women to
do whatever he wanted by flashing them a smile like that. Good thing he didn’t seem
to be the type to take advantage.

It was still early in the afternoon, and the Grizzly wasn’t too busy. Zan parked the
big truck at the back of the lot and ushered her inside, his hand lingering at the
small of her back in a proprietary manner. That warmed her, too.

They found a booth next to the wall sort of out of the way and slid in, taking seats
opposite each other. As luck would have it, Jacee came out from behind the bar to
take their orders. The woman shot Selene a wary glance, and she didn’t blame her.
Though she liked the bartender, Selene had been a bit . . . forceful, last time she
was in here.

“What can I get you guys?” Jacee piped up.

“Beer for me,” Zan said.

“Make that two.”

“You’ve got it.” She moved off, leaving them alone for a few moments.

A sudden attack of conscience hit Selene, and she regarded her new mate steadily across
the table. “I feel I have to warn you that Jacee there, she knows about the Alpha
Pack.”

That shocked him. His eyes widened. “What? How?”

“Jacee is the one who told me you guys hang out here. She keeps her eyes and ears
open. And she’s not human, herself.”

“Shit.” He glanced toward the bar, where the woman in question was drawing their beers.
“What is she?”

“Coyote.”

“Damn, I never scented a thing!”

“That’s because she keeps her scent masked. In my world, coyotes are akin to parasites.
Not that I feel that way about Jacee, because I don’t,” she said quickly. “She’s nice
enough. In fact, I don’t believe in putting someone down because of their breed.”

“I’m happy to hear you say that, because I feel the same way. Our world has enough
prejudice in it without shifters adding to it.”

“True.”

The object of their discussion returned with their beers and set them down. “Anything
else?”

“Nothing for me right now,” Selene said.

Zan shook his head. “Maybe later.” After the bartender had gone, Zan spoke quietly.
“By the way, Jacee used to hook up with my best friend, Jax. So, when you meet Jax
and his mate, Kira, you might not want to mention Jacee.”

“That could be awkward. Don’t worry. Mum’s the word.”

“Thanks.” He took a draw of his brew.

She did the same and then waved a hand at him. “So, I answered your question about
being a born shifter. You were turned, right?”

“Yes, along with almost all the rest of the team I’m with now. We were Navy SEALs
in Afghanistan when we were attacked by rogue werewolves.”

“That must’ve been horrible.”

“It was. More than half our unit was killed.”

“Would you mind telling me the story?” she asked. “I’ll understand if you don’t want
to share something so personal.”

“We’re going to continue to share a lot more than stories if I have my way,” he said
with a smile. “So, sure.”

She blushed to the roots of her hair, something that hadn’t happened in a long time.
Not one to embarrass easily, that remark, and the pure sexuality behind it, had caught
her off guard.

Then his tale unfolded, taking her back to the awful day when the Alpha Pack came
into existence—and life as they knew it was never the same.

•   •   •

Six years earlier . . .

Zan hated Afghanistan.

The days were sweltering, the nights cold as a brass witch’s tit. There were no such
things as good food, rest, or comfort for the body or mind. He couldn’t wait to leave
this hellhole. He was marking the days—twenty-eight more days and his six years of
service were done.

He was going home, to Atlanta. To his grandmother’s kitchen, where he’d let her smother
him in all the motherly love he’d been missing for the past few months. Hell, since
his mother had died of cancer years ago. Granny was always there for him. He couldn’t
wait to give her a big hug.

And hang up his dog tags for good.

“Jesus Christ, I’m rank,” Raven bitched, scratching at his crotch. “When I finally
get to change this underwear, it’ll probably walk off.”

Micah grinned. “With assistance from the crabs you caught from that hooker last month.”

“Shut up, needledick. She did
not
give me crabs.”

Zan snickered. The banter of his teammates was just about the only positive that got
him through the long days and nights in the arid terrain of this shitty country.

“Hold up,” Jax whispered, coming to a halt. Tensing, he studied the mountain forest
around them and frowned.

Zan listened. Somewhere hidden in the brush, a footstep crunched to their left. Another
to their right. More from behind. He saw Ryon and Micah exchange a fearful look. He
knew this area was supposed to be clear, and they couldn’t have reached their target’s
stronghold already. In that instant, he knew they were toast. Their enemy had them
surrounded.

Then the forest went silent. Never, ever a good thing. Because when the smaller creatures
went still, that meant they were hiding from something much bigger and hungrier than
themselves.

Thud, thud, thud.

The ground trembled and the leaves shook. Zan thought distantly that he’d seen and
heard this very thing in a movie long ago. When a deep-throated roar split the air,
Aric jumped, pointing the muzzle of his M-16 into the trees, hands rock steady, a
bead of sweat dripping off his nose.

“Fuck,” Micah whispered. “What the fuck is that?”

Zan stared in stupefied horror. The thing that broke through the foliage to their
left stood erect on two legs and was more than seven feet tall. Covered with a thick
mat of grayish brown fur, it had a long torso, two arms, muscular shoulders, and a
head sporting two upright ears and a long, snarling snout full of sharp teeth.

It looked like a creature that was half man, half wolf. He and his team stared, mouths
open, fingers frozen on their triggers.

The situation might have been salvaged, disaster averted. But their buddy Jones started
screaming, pumping bullets into the beast’s chest. After that, everything went to
shit.

The creature staggered backward and then rallied quickly, rushing Jones. With a swipe
of a paw the size of a dinner plate, the big bastard ripped out Jones’s throat, tossing
him aside like a twig. Then it pounced on Raven, biting into the vee of his neck and
shoulder as the man screamed.

They opened fire just as several more of the beasts emerged from the forest. It quickly
became apparent that while their bullets could wound, it would take something with
far more power to kill them. He saw Aric drop into a crouch and palm a grenade as
his friends fell all around him, waging a battle they couldn’t win.

The creature who’d killed Jones shook Raven like a rag doll, released him, and ran
toward Aric, who let a grenade fly. It hit at the target’s feet and exploded, sending
the damned thing to hell. But more and more of them took its place.

Micah went down, his knife in hand, slitting one’s throat. But another jumped on him,
and his struggle was short-lived, his scream terrible. Jax fell next, then their CO,
Prescott, Nix, and so many others. All of them, one by one. Dead or dying.

As Aric unsheathed his knife to fight one, a beast rushed Zan. It hit him with the
force of a runaway truck, knocking him backward and sending him skidding along the
ground. He rolled to avoid the claws that swiped down at him, but they raked his side,
splitting him open through his camos. There was no time to acknowledge the fiery pain
spreading through his torso. He kept moving, dodging several blows.

Suddenly, he heard a cry in his head.

Help me, somebody! Oh, God—

Nearby, he saw Ryon fighting with a creature of his own and losing. Had the plea come
from him? Or was it a figment of Zan’s overwrought imagination? The beast plunged
its claws into Ryon’s stomach, and the man screamed, a horrible sound.

Aric dispatched it, but it might have been too late.

Zan scrambled backward, trying to put enough distance between him and the beast to
level his weapon and fire. But he hardly had the barrel lowered before the beast slammed
the gun out of his hands. Zan quickly drew his knife and went on the offensive, running
into the beast’s body rather than away.

With a powerful upward swing, he thrust the blade underneath the bone of the thing’s
sternum. Drove it at an angle, as deeply as possible. The beast’s screech was cut
off abruptly, and it went down.

Zan staggered and fell. How long he was sprawled and bleeding in the dirt, he didn’t
know. He only knew he had to get up. To use his gift on everyone he could save. His
conscience wouldn’t let him do any less.

He found Aric first. Called forth his healing gift and sent it into his friend. Repaired
torn arteries and shredded skin. “Come on, man. Don’t die. Stay with me.” Painstaking,
exhausting work, and when he was done, he wanted to sleep. But there were so many
left to go.

He got moving, crawling to Ryon. The man was crumpled on the ground, staring into
the sky. His chest was moving, but Zan could see the light fading from his eyes.

“Ryon, hang on,” Zan ordered, touching his shoulder. “I’m a Healer, and you’re going
to be okay.”

Disbelief was reflected in that solemn gaze, normally so full of humor and life. No
one ever believed at first. And then the few who finally did, like Zan’s dad, called
him a freak and an abomination. Told him that he was a minion of Satan.

If the bastard were here, he’d know what Satan really looked like.

Sending his warmth into Ryon, he spent long moments healing him as well. And then
the next fallen brother and the next. When at last he’d helped everyone he could,
his body simply quit.

Burned out, he slumped to the ground, convinced he’d never awaken.

And after what he’d seen today, that was fine by him.

•   •   •

“I’m so sorry,” Selene said, her heart breaking for Zan. For all of them.

How had they managed to get past such horror? It must have been the worst thing imaginable.
Lives ripped apart, families left in limbo.

“Did you ever go home?”

He nodded. “I did, but by the time I recovered and got home to Atlanta, I found out
my grandmother had died four months earlier. I had no family left, so I sold her house
and was trying to decide what to do with my life when General Jarrod Grant and a shifter
named Terry Noble showed up at my motel room door. Grant is a contact high in the
military who gives Nick our assignments.”

“Like, what paranormal beings are wreaking havoc somewhere?”

“Exactly. Who, where, and how dangerous they are. We go out and dispatch the problem.
If we feel there’s a creature or being who’s just confused or scared, we bring it
in to try to rehabilitate it to our world. Like Sariel and Chup-Chup, two of our success
stories.”

“Chup-Chup?”

“Chup is a little gremlin-type creature that we found in a cave on a mission. Nobody
knows where he came from. He used to stay in a cell in Block R, chewing on his chain
constantly and crying to get out. But he was so mean, nobody could handle him, and
we couldn’t let him go.”

“That’s so sad! Where is he now?”

“Jax’s mate, Kira, came to live with us, and she has a way with those being rehabbed.
She worked with Chup and got him to trust her, and the little guy fell in love with
her. He’s great now and has the run of the place. When you meet him, just don’t stick
your hand in his face without letting him sniff you first or you might lose a finger.”