First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series) (19 page)

Meredith’s hold on Geneva had been tenuous to start with.
Now this!
And what if this new bonding affected the elaborate spell she’d labored so long and hard to create? “No. No, no, no, no,
no
!” Having almost lost the chance to enact her masterpiece once, Meredith wasn’t going to stand for anything interfering with her plans again. Not her brat sister, not a bonding, and certainly not the werewolf who had stuck both his nose and his dick where it wasn’t wanted. With rage and frustration mounting, she began mouthing the words that would eventually set the bower and all the trees that surrounded it on fire—

And stopped in midsentence as the breeze brought her new information. Her fiery rage gave way to icy calculation, and a sly smile parted her red, red lips. Someone was coming—and she was
so
going to enjoy making his acquaintance.

Travis loped toward the bower, all too aware of how long he’d been gone. He’d have a lot of explaining to do—assuming that Neva was even still there. Goddess only knew what she thought
of him taking off in such a hurry. Regardless, he had things to tell her, things that couldn’t wait. He should have told her first, of course, but who knew that things were going to get physical so fast. Not like he’d made any frickin’ effort to slow it down or stop it…

Hell, might as well have tried to stop an avalanche with a bucket.
The intensity of the attraction, and the raw need, coupled with the lupine instinct to lay claim, had simply overwhelmed all else.

Now, however, his thoughts were clear as crystal. He couldn’t continue, he
would not
continue, without telling Neva what she needed to know about him. It was the right thing to do, even if it meant she never spoke to him again. Funny how doing the right thing often resulted in unpleasant consequences. And these would be soul damaging.
Good thing my soul is ruined already.

He yearned to catch her scent, pull it deep into his lungs until it became part of him, but with the wind behind Travis, it wasn’t going to happen. She would sense his approach, of course. Would she be excited, glad, relieved that he was back—or just annoyed by his disappearance? If he’d been in his human form, he might have laughed a little at that.
Of course
she’d be pissed at him.

Moments later, his heart leaped as he caught a glimpse of her in the bower. Relieved that she was still there, he slowed his pace and shifted form before he approached the part in the trees. “We have to talk, Neva,” he began. “I have things to tell you.” She stood on the far side, facing away from him, hugging herself as if cold. His first impulse was to go to her and wrap his arms around her, but he had things to say, difficult things that he dared not risk being distracted from.

“I know I told you that Changelings don’t kill humans, that it’s our highest law,” he began. She nodded without turning around. Was she mad at him? Jesus, she wasn’t crying, was she?
He hurried on, determined to get the words out. “But that doesn’t mean it never happens. I didn’t tell you about me and my brother. My younger brother, Jackson. Hell, we were both young—I was maybe twenty in human years, he was fourteen.” Travis took a deep breath and tried to steady his voice, but it was so damned hard to talk about this. Hard to even
think
about this, after spending decades trying to avoid the wretched memory. Maybe it was a good thing after all that Neva wasn’t looking in his direction. He might never get the words out if she did. “We were running as wolves, just messing around, you know? Wrestling, fighting, seeing who could jump the farthest, who was the fastest, that kind of shit. And we started chasing a deer, a
mulie
, the biggest buck we’d ever seen.

“It would have all been fine, except we weren’t supposed to
be
wolves. Everyone in the pack was on high alert because it was hunting season. Everyone was supposed to stay on two legs, but when you’re young, you think you’re going to live forever. We thought we were so damn clever that nothing would happen to us. We could outsmart any stupid human hunters.”

“What happened?” Neva asked, her voice soft and quiet.

“We ran straight into a party of hunters. Three were in the trees, just waiting for deer to walk under them. We didn’t even know they were there until the deer went down. We didn’t even hear the report of the rifle until the damn buck just dropped right in front of us. And then Jackson—Christ, my little brother, Jackson—he was taken down, too. One shot, one stupid fucking shot.” Travis’s voice shook, but he kept on going. “I felt it before I saw what happened, as if the bullet had gone through my own heart. I was behind a ways because I was going to let him catch the damn deer—you know, so he’d feel good about himself. Two hunters were already moving in to claim the trophies when I came out of the brush.”

“You must have been wild.”

“I lost it. I don’t even know where my human side went, but my wolf took over. There were three hunters in the trees, two on the ground, and four back at their camp, and I killed every last one of them. Tore them to pieces—young, old, it didn’t matter to me. I don’t remember doing it, but I did it. I came to myself in the middle of the mess, after they were all dead.” The tinny taste of blood had been on his tongue, dripping from his jaws and staining the golden tawny fur of his chest, but there was no point in relating such gory details.

“The bottom line is, I’m a murderer, Neva. I broke the highest and most absolute law that Changelings have.” He paused for a long moment. “I buried my little brother far away from that place, and then I left. I never went back to the pack or to my family. I’ve never seen them since, any of them, and that was a long time ago.”

“You banished yourself?”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” He sighed. He hadn’t known what else to do. He couldn’t change what had happened, couldn’t make it right or make up for it, no matter what. The fact that his inner wolf was responsible for the deed hardly mattered. Lives, once taken, could never be restored. He wished Neva would turn around now, and yet he dreaded it—surely there would be disgust and revulsion, the same things he felt toward himself and his wolf. There might even be fear on her beautiful face. It would devastate him, but it was no less than he deserved. He squared his shoulders and waited for her reaction. For his sentence.

Neva said nothing, and then he saw her shoulders shaking. Christ, not tears, please, anything but tears. “Neva, honey, don’t,” he said gently and reached out to her, stroking her hair and running the long, dark waves through his big fingers.

Abruptly, the hair in his hand became bright gold. “What the hell?” He dropped the suddenly blonde tress as if it were a rattlesnake. Neva turned around then, allowing the icy laughter she’d been suppressing to peal through the bower. Her exquisite face was oh so familiar and yet completely alien to him, and his blood chilled with realization.

It wasn’t Neva.

Baker hugged the ground beneath a nearly impenetrable thicket of hawthorn and prayed that he wouldn’t be detected. His muzzle and ears were badly cut by the long thorns that adorned the branches, but this inhospitable hiding place was his best and only hope. If any of Meredith’s wolves realized he was there, they’d damn well have to come in here after him.

So far they were too busy watching the fun to notice that there was another player on the field. A battle royal raged between the golden wolf he’d been following and the fucking bitch queen herself. Gold and silver fur flew as they spilled out of the shelter of evergreens, biting and clawing, each vying for a throathold. Silently he cheered on the big male, even as he knew it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Sooner or later, just as with Riley, Meredith would pull some of her damned magic out of her ass and gain the upper hand.

This time, however, she simply called in her minions. A dozen powerful werewolves took over what she started, and bore the golden wolf to the ground under their sheer weight alone. It was like watching linebackers dog-piling on a quarterback, but there was no referee to drag them off. Meredith sat back and licked her wounds, and Baker was glad to see that the tawny wolf had managed to do some damage before he went down. Still in lupine
form, the bitch somehow managed a bored expression, as if the outcome of the struggle meant nothing to her. Baker wasn’t buying it. She was a long way from home, and she’d brought twelve goons with her. Not only that, but she hadn’t killed the guy with some scary-ass magic when he’d made her bleed. So whoever this big gold wolf was, he must be important.

Baker shook his head as his earlier prediction came true. The bitch queen lifted a paw, and a thick coil of slender scarlet cord simply appeared at her feet. He squinted to make out details. The cord was thicker than string and thinner than rope—and there was a strange sheen to it. Meredith bent her silver muzzle and daintily picked up the coil in her teeth. With a jerk of her head, she tossed it straight into the midst of the snarling pack.

Although Baker knew the struggle had been futile, he still felt a twinge of disappointment when the thugs stepped away to reveal the tawny wolf lying on the ground. Red blood stained his golden pelt, revealing slashes and bites in countless places, but it wasn’t the wounds that kept him down. The strange red cord bound and muzzled the big werewolf.
Shit.
Not only had Baker wished the guy well, he’d hoped for some information from him. And he wouldn’t mind shaking hands with him either (if either of them
had
hands). Golden Boy had held his own against impossible odds. Despite their size and muscle, several of his opponents were lame and bleeding far more profusely than he was.

Suddenly a voice reverberated in his head. It was anguished and desperate, yet potent enough that Baker winced and his brain recoiled at its strength. Unconsciously, he put a paw over his head.

Neva! Stay away from here—

The words were cut short, and the tawny wolf exhaled as if for the last time.

Neva wandered through the truck stop, wondering if she should take a chance on the busy diner that took up one side of the building, or if she should just grab some prepackaged snacks and get back on the road. The driver who’d given her a lift had been kind, but talkative.
Way more than talkative.
More like evangelistic. He’d called himself a “prepper” and advocated learning survival skills for the coming apocalypse. By the time they’d crossed two state lines, she knew more than she’d ever wanted to know about which bugs were edible, how to filter urine for water, and what everyday items could be turned into weapons.

In the end, she’d lied about her destination and bailed when he stopped for gas. Part of her—okay, a big part—wanted to wait around in hopes of Travis showing up. The more sensible side of her said that was a dumb idea and she ought to keep moving.

Her wolf had a whole different take on the subject. Neva could swear it was pacing inside her, more like a caged tiger than a wolf, and had been ever since she’d left Travis behind. It didn’t like being away from him one bit. She supposed he was the only werewolf that her alter ego had met so far—and since he’d been there when her inner wolf was, well,
born
, so to speak, maybe it had imprinted on him. She didn’t know.