Hungry Like a Wolf (2 page)

But damn it if he didn’t really want to kill him right now.

“You know this can’t go on forever.” The alpha’s voice rumbled deep, raising hackles. “Sooner or later, you won’t be able to ignore it anymore. What happens then?”

Logan’s lip curled, and he wrestled it back into place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t be an asshole. Don’t lie to me, and don’t act like I’m not supposed to figure it out. It’s not like it’s a surprise. I knew it would happen one day, because I know you.”

Graham leaned forward and willed his friend to meet his gaze. Their gazes crashed together like two bighorn sheep on the top of a mountain. Logan could almost hear the echo.

“I know you, Logan, and I know what you’re going through. We can find a way around it—”

“There’s. No. Problem.”

Silence descended, stretched thin, and finally snapped with a backlash that stung.

“Fine.” Graham’s voice indicated things were anything but. He sat back again and picked up a piece of paper, which he tossed across the desk to Logan. “You say you don’t have a problem, that’s terrific. Because I do.”

Logan caught the letter in one hand, but didn’t bother to glance at it. He snarled in satisfaction. “Perfect. Who do I get to kill?”

“No one. It’s not that kind of problem.”

Well, shit. Just when he could have used a little judicious bloodshed.

Suppressing another growl, Logan got up to pace around the office. The restlessness inside made it impossible for him to sit still for long. “Fine. Then what do you want me to do?”

“If you’d read the damned letter, you might have a clue. There’s been a death in Connecticut. The White Paw Clan has lost its alpha.”

That bit of news actually managed to get Logan’s attention. He turned toward Graham with interest. “Ethan Tate is dead?” He paused, letting it sink in. “Challenge?”

Graham shook his head. “Cancer. And apparently he managed to hide it from the pack until the end.”

Logan let out a low whistle. That was old-school wolf, and a hell of an accomplishment. In the old days, any sort of illness that might compromise an alpha’s ability to lead would have been punished by a swift challenge and the likely death of the sick or wounded Lupine. Knowing that, the toughest alphas of the past would hide any sign of weakness, using whatever means necessary to camouflage their vulnerability and maintain control of their pack. But with an illness like cancer, it was damned difficult. Most Lupines could smell the taint of the disease and would have known immediately. He wondered how the old alpha had done it? Tate had been a tough old bird, but hiding cancer…? That took balls.

“So no one guessed at all? Not even his beta?”

“That’s probably one of the things that helped him fool everyone.” Graham nodded to the letter in Logan’s hand. “The e-mail I got is from his beta, who was also his daughter. She probably didn’t want to think her father was ill, so she denied it, and that made it even easier for him to deceive everyone else.”

A female beta? Female alphas and betas weren’t unheard-of in the Lupine world, but they were few and far between, more like myths and legends than actual people. Boadicea had been a pack alpha, but Logan couldn’t think of one more recent than that. The fact was, even if a female Lupine was ten times stronger than the average human male, a male Lupine was twice as strong as that. Females rarely managed to battle their way to the top of the pack structure, and when they did, they even more rarely managed to stay there. A male would always challenge, and males generally won. The old Lupine adage said, “A female alpha is a dead alpha.”

Female betas occurred only marginally more often. Usually they won the position not through challenges, but by appointment, and they kept their places with cunning more often than with strength. Tate had obviously installed his daughter as his beta, either before or after learning of his illness. A wolf strong enough to hide cancer would sure as hell be strong enough to ensure no one protested his decision on that front, but with Tate gone, his daughter would now be fair game. Given the traditional Lupine pack structure and its basis in rule through strength, when a pack alpha died, the logical choice to take his place was usually his beta, the next strongest wolf in the pack, but when that wolf was a female … Well, all of a sudden the old rules didn’t apply anymore.

Again, Logan felt a stirring of genuine interest, interest in something other than another man’s mate or a violent coup d’état even he didn’t really want to see happen.

“Do you think she can hold the pack together?” he asked.

Graham shrugged. “I have no idea. I haven’t visited the White Paw since I first took the reins from my dad. Because they’re one of the clans under the Silverback protection, I paid a courtesy visit. But she couldn’t have been more than nine or ten at the time. I’m sure she was introduced, since she was Tate’s daughter, but I didn’t pay her much mind. She could have grown up to be Queen of the Amazons, but even if she did, all it would take is a strong male to bring her down.”

Ironically enough, that wasn’t a sexist comment. If any of the parties involved had been human it would have constituted cause for a new feminist revolution, but when it came to Lupines, it all boiled down to physiology. Lupine males had evolved to be physiologically stronger than females, by a pretty hefty margin. There was no such thing as a fair fight between the Lupine sexes.

“All right. So what’s the situation right now?”

“Tate was supposed to be buried this morning, and according to the daughter, there were already two male pack members making noises about a challenge. One sounds like he’s just a cub, but the other one might bear watching. His name is Darin Major, and apparently he bucked for the beta job before Tate appointed his daughter. History’s only going to make things messier.”

Logan growled a little at the thought of the males calling a young female beta to an alpha challenge. There were just some things a Lupine didn’t do. Which was why females rarely became pack alpha or beta. Females mated with alphas and betas; they didn’t become them. “You want me to make sure the challengers let her live?”

Graham shook his head. “Noises aren’t the same thing as actual challenges. What I need you to do is go up to the clan center and assess the situation. Tate’s already been gone a couple of days, and if they buried him this morning, it may already be a moot point. As soon as he’s in the ground, the laws state that it’s open season on his job. The pack may already have a new alpha. But if the girl is still alive when you get up there, the situation gets a whole lot more interesting. I won’t take the pack away from an alpha that can do the job, no matter what is or isn’t between her legs. But if she can’t hold her pack, I need to know. White Paw is too close for me to let just any wolf take it over. I need someone stable and trustworthy heading that pack. If it’s not a Tate, I want an open challenge, and I’d have to oversee that myself to make sure the pack gets what it needs.”

“Is that what the girl asked for? For you to guarantee a clean challenge?”

“Not exactly.” Graham paused. “She asked for me to formally acknowledge her succession to alpha.”

Logan couldn’t help the eyebrow that shot up at that. “Does she think you saying, ‘Go for it, princess,’ would be enough to keep the challengers away?”

“It might scare off the weaker ones, and it surely couldn’t hurt. Having the backing of the regional alpha makes her a strong candidate to lead a local pack,” Graham pointed out, not with arrogance, but with the cool acknowledgment of the way the world worked. He was the highest-ranking alpha in the northeastern quadrant of the United States. He was stronger than almost every Lupine Logan had ever met. That was just the way things were.

But you’re just as strong,
the voice in Logan’s hindbrain whispered.
You could rule a region just as well as Winters.

Logan clenched his jaw and slammed a lid on the voice. Now was not the time. Now Graham was handing him a distraction on a silver platter, and damn if he wouldn’t grab that sucker like a lifeline and tow himself all the way back to sanity. Maybe someone else’s struggle for rank in her pack would keep him from worrying about his own need to lead.

“For how long?” Logan asked. “Even with your backing, it would take a female version of Genghis Khan to keep the title for more than a few months.”

“I know. Hell, every Lupine on earth knows that. True female alphas come along as often as three-headed wolves.” Graham shook his head. “I don’t want to see a female in alpha challenge, not when it could be prevented. I checked the records. It hasn’t happened in almost two hundred years for a damned good reason. The last woman who took a challenge ended up gang-raped and confined to her bed for nearly a month before she could even stand upright again. And she was widely acknowledged as the strongest female in five generations.” The snarl that passed over Graham’s face at that thought would have scared most people half to death. It just reminded Logan of why he considered this man his brother. “Tate’s daughter can’t be more than twenty-four or so, and I’ve never heard anyone but her own father mention her name. The chances that she’s strong enough to be alpha are slim to none. She’ll be like a rabbit in the lion’s den. If I can keep that from happening, I will. Or rather, you will.”

“Damn right.” Logan growled again and finally glanced down at the printed e-mail in his hand. “Provided someone hasn’t killed her already.”

“Right. Provided that.”

“So, if the girl is still alive, you also want me to make sure she doesn’t get into trouble while I scope out who’s likely to take Tate’s place?”

“Yeah.” Graham’s grim expression said he didn’t hold out much hope. But then again, neither did Logan. “And either way, I want you to keep an eye on the pack until the matter’s settled.”

Something about Graham’s tone made Logan look up and meet the other man’s gaze. He felt his mouth quirk in a reluctant smile. “What you want is to get me the hell out of your hair until I calm down, brother.”

“There is that.” Graham’s expression turned rueful. “Look, I don’t know how this is all going to play out, brother, but I’m hoping a week or two in the country will give you the space to settle your damned nerves or something. ’Cause you’re starting to get on mine.”

Logan clenched his teeth, drew a deep breath, and blew it out through his nose. “Hell, I’m starting to get on my own nerves. I don’t blame you for making me go stand in the corner.”

“It’s not like that. You’re the one I want handling this for me. Period. That would be true even if you were acting perfectly normal.”

“But I’m not.”

Graham didn’t answer, and Logan flipped him an obscene gesture on his way out the door. Just because Graham was right, didn’t mean Logan couldn’t call him a dick.

Two

Honor Tate bolted through the front door of her home and straight into the bathroom. There, she proceeded to throw up her breakfast, her lunch, and several of her internal organs. It didn’t help. The taste of blood in her mouth was strong and metallic. It should have been familiar. Instead, it was sickening—sweet and sticky—and it coated her tongue in a thick, persistent layer like an oil slick.

She clutched the rim of the toilet bowl and heaved again, so violently she almost missed the sound of footsteps padding across the wooden floor of the big cabin’s great room.

“Honor? Honor, are you okay?”

She bit back a moan, her fingers clenching, as another dizzy wave of nausea swept through her. Her cousin’s voice sounded as soft and concerned as always, and it was the next to last thing she felt like dealing with right now. She spat into the toilet, trying to rid herself of the taste of blood and bile.

“I’m fine, Joey.” As fine as a Lupine could be after chewing off the hand of one of her oldest friends and pretending to enjoy it. “I just wanted to wash off some of this grime.”

There was a pause, then she heard a soft question. “Why don’t you go upstairs, then? Take a proper shower? I can make you some dinner and bring you up a tray.”

The word “dinner” set her stomach racing toward the back of her throat, and she quickly shoved on the faucet full blast to mask the sound of more retching. Trembling violently, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and forced her voice to sound steady as a rock and calm as Sunday church. “Well, I was going to finish up delivering this week’s wood to the cabins on the lumber road…”

She let her voice trail off and crossed her fingers that her tenderhearted cousin Josephine would reply as she hoped.

“Don’t be silly. You’ve done enough today.” Joey’s voice sounded firm and soothing, and made Honor’s shoulders sag in relief. “Michael can finish the deliveries. You should take a shower and relax this evening. Or if you have to, work on the books. But stay in and get some rest. It’s been … a difficult few days.”

Honor stifled a laugh and flushed the toilet, grabbing a neatly folded towel from the bar beside the sink. A difficult few days? Why? Just because her previously healthy, arrogant, indestructible father had died, she had inherited his position as alpha over the White Paw Lupine pack, and had fought three alpha challenges in the same number of days? Pshaw.

She cupped her hand to her mouth and rinsed away the last taste of bile. Then she wet one end of the towel and used it to wipe her pale, chalky face. Damn it, she looked like hell, and that was not the sort of face she could let anyone in the pack see. Not even Joey. If Honor was going to assume the title of alpha, she would need to act like an alpha at all times. Even when she felt more like a sniveling, whimpering puppy.

Even when she felt like crying.

Stuffing down those very dangerous thoughts, she draped the towel around her neck and used one hand to hold it to her face as if she were cleaning up, then reached for the doorknob with the other. One deep breath later, she stepped out into the great room with a false smile and the towel half concealing her face.

Joey stood just beside the door, her hands clasped nervously together, her brow wrinkled in concern. “I’m sorry it was Paul,” she said in that soft, come-down-from-the-ledge voice she thought was soothing. “I know how close you two always were.”