Dire Warning WC0.5
Dire Warning
An Eternal Wolf Clan Novella
Stephanie Tyler
NEW AMERICAN LIBRARY
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First E-Book Printing, February 2012
Copyright © Stephanie Tyler, 2012
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ISBN: 978-1-101-56220-8
Printed in the United States of America
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
ALWAYS LEARNING PEARSON
Dear Reader,
I’m thrilled to introduce you to the Eternal Wolf Clan series and the pack of Dire wolves the story centers on in this eSpecial,
Dire Warning
.
The Eternal Wolf Clan series is set in upstate New York in the Catskills area and focuses on the last surviving Dire wolves. They are the ultimate immortal alphas—fierce, bred for war, built for pleasure and completely heroic. Together, Rifter, Vice, Jinx, Rogue, Stray and Harm watch out for the Weres, especially the young ones put in their protection to outgrow their uncontrollable wolf natures. Weres, although immortal in theory, can be killed and will age, albeit slowly, in their human forms, unlike the Dires, who are also far more powerful. The Dires’ enemies—and enemies of the Weres by default—are the weretrappers, humans who’ve held a grudge against them since Viking times.
The Dires and the Weres live among witches, vamps and various other shifters and supernatural creatures who inhabit the world right alongside the humans, who, for the most part, have no idea they exist. As the series opens, the Dires are charged, as always, with keeping the innocent humans and Weres safe as a familiar threat takes a new and unexpected turn, putting them all on full alert.
I truly hope you enjoy this introduction to the Dires, and that you’ll continue into the series with Rifter’s book,
Dire Needs
, which comes out from Signet Eclipse on March 6, 2012, and which will draw you further into the world of these warrior wolves.
Best,
Stephanie Tyler
“What about a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight don’t you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass.”
—Dean Winchester /
Supernatural
/ Heart: Season 2
Chapter One
“Remind
me again why we came here tonight?” Vice asked for the millionth time, unable to shelve his discontent at being forced out during a human holiday celebrating everything the Dire wolves couldn’t have.
Rifter cut his Dire brother a glare as he pushed off his Harley and then turned and walked through the parking lot toward the bar called Bite. He didn’t want to be there either, but he was the one who’d rousted his Dire brothers Vice and Jinx and Stray, along with Cyd and Cain, the young Weres under Jinx’s watch, because he’d had a bad feeling.
Granted, since Rifter’s capture—and subsequent escape—from the weretrappers six months earlier, bad feelings abounded. The weretrappers had hunted Dires and Weres since Viking times, but in recent centuries, their mission had turned far more sinister than simply ridding the world of wolves.
He didn’t know if the recent roil in his gut was a weretrapper omen––but hell, he always felt like shit thinking about them. Now he checked the sky, and the moon tugged his Brother Wolf, a not so gentle reminder that they would owe her a run.
A full moon in four days meant unease in general—and horny-as-hell wolves. Four Dire alphas and two young Weres still in their moon craze phase and Valentine’s Day didn’t mix all that well.
Rifter had been reminding himself of that the entire ride over. He turned right before he got to the front door of the bar and surveyed his wolves, warning, “Try not to draw attention to yourselves.”
“Why do you look at me when you say that?” Vice asked as he reached for the door.
“Gee, can’t guess,” Jinx muttered. “Just listen to your king.”
If Vice didn’t, Rifter knew it wasn’t his fault. The man was built for vice. All of them were wrapped inside his body, ruling him. Each Dire had a different ability that could easily lead their wolves to destruction. Vice tried to keep a leash on his, and when he couldn’t, his fellow Dires did it for him.
“Just be careful—this bar’s a dive,” Vice told them. “There are some crazy-assed motherfuckers who hang out here.”
With that, he pushed open the door to the dark interior and voices rang across the bar at once, shouting, “Vice!”
“And that’s why I’m always looking at you,” Rifter said to the wolf with the spiked blond hair and silver eyes ringed with black.
“No rest for the wicked.” Vice grinned over his shoulder at Rifter. “Remember, this was all your idea.”
“Everyone’s staring,” Stray said through clenched teeth, although they were used to it.
And yeah, six single wolves in human form tramping into a bar together on Valentine’s Day definitely got attention from Weres and humans alike. None of the Dires were under six foot six and they were all big, built for women and war––impressive in more ways than one. And while the humans didn’t know exactly what the Dires were, they sensed the bad boy in them. For most, that was enough of a draw.
Even the twins, who topped out at six feet even, had just about come into their own.
“Humans,” Jinx said, wrinkling his nose.
“Dude, I thought this was a Were bar?” Vice asked Clyde, the owner, who’d stationed himself by the door.
Clyde shrugged. “Humans are money makers. So’s this holiday.”
And an excuse for Weres to hook up with lonely human men and women, too, although Rifter wasn’t sure why they bothered. Humans were . . . problematic at best. Fragile.
Then again, so were the Weres.
“I don’t get the heart shit,” Vice continued.
“It’s their fated holiday,” Cyd said for what had to be the millionth time.
Vice rolled his eyes, looked unimpressed. “Yeah, I know. They use love, we use fated. I like our word better.”
The human population obviously didn’t agree, because the bar looked like Cupid exploded. There were red and white streamers and hearts and Cupids everywhere. A man was passing out roses to the single women.
Yeah, this was going as well as Rifter thought it would. This holiday with paper hearts and candy was just too damned much to handle. Everything seemed fake.
“A smart man definitely made up this holiday, because it’s all about getting laid,” Cyd explained. It was easier for the young Were, because if he ever got out of his moon craze, he could mate.
Stray had broken off from the group and headed toward the pool table in the back. Cyd and Cain moved away too, mingling with their Were kind.
“Maybe we should just go home,” Jinx muttered as he stood between Rifter and Vice. As Rifter watched, Vice’s eyes went full-on silver as he stared at Jinx. Thanks to Vice’s ability to
be
the party, Jinx would be singing a different tune quickly. Vice’s excesses influenced Jinx to party hard and forget his troubles.
That was good. Being separated from his twin was killing Jinx, no matter how much of a front he put up. They were all affected, and Rifter was glad he’d decided not to tell his brothers how bad the torture at the hands of the trappers had been. No matter how many times they asked.
Rifter couldn’t forget they were down one, either. Jinx’s brother Rogue remained in some kind of supernatural coma back at their Catskills house. Since it was protected by a spell created by a master witch, the Dires felt safe enough leaving him there.
That same master witch had been the reason Rifter and Rogue had been captured by the trappers to begin with. Thankfully, Rifter didn’t smell weretrapper here—just regular humans the Dires were bound to protect from Weres and other supernatural influences.
But hell, they couldn’t save the humans from themselves.
Rifter could feel Vice’s influence tugging at him, too. But it couldn’t compete with the increasingly uneasy feeling—and the humans surrounding him made it that much worse.
Truth be told, he’d been restless and broodish for the better half of the last year. Even runs through the old country, which usually cheered him, hadn’t helped.
Of course, coming back to New York hadn’t exactly been the greatest thing for them. He and Rogue had been captured almost immediately upon their return by the weretrappers, who’d been aided by the witches, and by his former best friend, Seb, an Adept. Seb was that same master witch who’d gifted them with their house spell many years ago, before everything changed.
Rogue was still paying dearly for the capture.
Now, as Vice drifted off in search of fun, Rifter downed some JD with Jinx at his side to stop the anger from mounting. Both their Brother Wolves would need a lot more than this to get anything resembling drunk. Rifter kept his eyes on the mirror behind the bar as the time ticked by while Jinx faced out toward the crowd.
“The Weres are nervous that there’s been no word from Linus in days,” Jinx said finally.
The Dires had come back from Europe six months earlier at the request of Linus, the King Alpha of all the Were packs who lived in Manhattan, because a Were uprising was brewing and he was trying to quash a rebellion.
Now, things were still not looking good on that end. Rifter didn’t know if his and Rogue’s capture was because of Weres or not, but when he found out who sold them out, they would die. Slowly. Painfully.
“Maybe we should pull out,” he told Jinx, realized he meant it quite literally, as Jinx had a young Were female sitting in his lap he was making out with like there was no tomorrow. But hell, for them, there always was. “Ah fuck it. Have your fun.”
He took another shot, glad that Jinx’s somber mood was broken for the moment. Checked the mirror again to see Vice dancing with several Weres and humans in a manner that was beyond suggestive. None of them seemed to mind.
Speaking of, a few women, Were and human, came up next to him on different sides and ordered drinks. The human ones were pretty and attempted to flirt with him, but he didn’t even give them a smile. Humans did not do it for him. Never had.
It made them work harder for a while but they eventually gave up. The Were women were not run off that easily. Used to the Dire game of retreat then chase, they were much more willing to deal with a snarly alpha—and willing to do whatever it took to soothe one.
The human women were attracted to the danger they perceived him to be. The Were women actually smelled the danger on him and they made no bones about loving it. Wolves were built for pleasure, for embracing their most primal of needs, and they weren’t afraid to show it.
“Rift, so glad you came back to town,” Penny told him now. “Always more fun when you’re here. At least for me.”
It was, especially because the Dires threw parties and reveled in their primal ways during the moon call. Just because they had to protect humans didn’t mean they had to give up all their baser instincts.
Chrissy gave him a big hug, whispered provocatively in his ear something about how
big wolves were so much better
as her hand moved up his leather clad inner thigh. All the Weres knew about his and Rogue’s capture, and how the Dires blew the shit out of a weretrapper facility that made them even bigger heroes than before.
“Come run with us, Rift.” Chrissy rubbed against him, her eyes glowing a little. “Penny and I know you can satisfy us both.”
The offer was more than tempting, no doubt about it, but he hadn’t come here for sex.
The problem was, he couldn’t pinpoint why he
had
brought his brothers here, because there didn’t appear to be an immediate, imminent danger. Maybe a run
was
in order, as Vice suggested earlier, and Penny and Chrissy would make it worth his while.
Brother Wolf howled in his head, his agreement obvious.
Penny and Chrissy were actually good wolves. Strong. They’d make excellent mates for deserving Weres, but like most young women, they didn’t want to tie themselves down too soon. It was a new era for the Weres, and tradition was butting heads with the modern world.
Rifter didn’t mind modern trends, but hell, there was something to be said for tradition. Forgetting the past meant you were doomed to repeat its mistakes, and the wolves had made an awful lot of them over the years. The fact that they’d been able to remain mostly hidden up to this point was amazing in itself.
Jinx was still in a lip lock with a weregirl he didn’t know and Vice was . . . dancing. Although it really looked an awful lot like fucking.
He really hoped Vice didn’t start stripping. Not with all the humans trying to celebrate their nice little holiday.
Rifter nearly let the Were women lead him to the back exit, because a nice, hard orgasm could only help right about now. The fact that it would hurt afterwards, since it wouldn’t ever lead to mating, was something he’d learned to live with. Pleasure and pain were the finest of lines for him. And as he covered Penny’s mouth with his, he became vaguely aware of a commotion, totally ignoring it until Clyde tapped him on the shoulder.
“Control your wolves,” Clyde told him, his tone respectful. “Vice is scaring the humans.”
Humans, for the most part, still believed that Weres were part of a supernatural mythology. Guaranteed, the humans Vice was making nervous believed he was part of a motorcycle gang, with his tats and piercings and all around sinister looks, and they didn’t seem as much scared as interested. But the human males, now they were pissed at the sudden lack of attention they were receiving since the Dires walked in.
Rifter cut Vice a glance, and the wolf shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t invite them to this bar,” Vice mouthed and went right back to whatever he’d been doing.
In his defense, they were at a Were-owned bar. Humans were invading. Not purposely, but suddenly the Catskills had become the new hotspot for vacationers and for celebrities seeking privacy.
The Dires sought it too. They were the last Dires in existence, save for the one who’d gone off on his own, most recently gaining fame as lead singer in a hair metal band. But they rarely spoke of their Dire brother, Harmony, and hadn’t seen him in person in centuries.
They’d been around a hell of a long time. Seen and done everything. They couldn’t die.
Getting shot still hurt like a bitch, though, Rifter mused as he finished off a beer and ordered another, hoping it would be enough to take the edge off. So would a run, and he realized that’s exactly what he needed. It was time to let Brother Wolf take the reins, scent the danger. He tapped Jinx on the shoulder, hard enough for the wolf to look up from his current act of near copulation on the bar stool.
“Dude, a little busy here,” Jinx murmured, his eyes already changed to lupine.
Definitely time to roll out, especially when he heard the new disturbance behind him and had little doubt where it had taken root. When he turned, all suspicions were confirmed.
Vice and Stray were in the middle of a circle of angry Hells Angels. What the biker gang members were doing here on Valentine’s Day was beyond Rifter, but he guessed that bikers needed love too.
Vice had no doubt flirted with one or more of their old ladies, just for the hell of it. And he looked pleased as shit to be surrounded by four angry meathead humans who had no idea how close they were to slaughter.
“I’m on it,” Jinx slurred, more from arousal than alcohol.
“We don’t like people who try to infringe on our territory,” one of them told Vice.
“Us either. And trust me, we’ve been around a hell of a lot longer than you,” Vice said calmly. That calm was so deceiving, could turn to rage at any second.
Rifter saw Jinx clamp a hand on Vice’s shoulder even as the calmest wolf of them all spoke. “You should all go now, before you get hurt.”
The crowds, the impending fight and the soon-to-follow police would usually give him a rush akin to shifting. Tonight, it gave him a headache, and the urge to leave.
Not soon enough. Vice flipped the pool table toward the plate glass front window, and the humans moved in, excited as the testosterone rose in seconds and the sounds of shattering glass obliterated anything else.