Wolf's Fall (3 page)

The man wasn't going to budge. Anger surged as he tugged the weapon from his waistband and placed it in his friend's hand, butt first. He tamped it down, though. Hammer—
John
—had always looked out for him. He wasn't going to stop, especially now that Nick was in a crisis.

Hammer's gaze softened. “Thanks. See you when you get back.”

“Sure.”

They both understood that if Nick was truly
done, no force on earth could make him stay. Many immortals—vampires and born shifters included—met their demise by their own hands sooner or later. Forever wasn't all it was imagined to be.

But as Nick stripped off his clothing and shifted, then took off through the forest, he knew his friend was right—Nick did care. Maybe too much.

Whether that would prove to be his downfall or his salvation remained to be
seen.

C
alla Shaw swept through the corridors, fuming.

Gods! What the hell has that high-handed, arrogant brother of mine gotten me into now? Who does he think he is?

Just because Tarron Romanoff was the leader of their coven—as well as prince of all the vampires in North America—didn't mean he had the right to tamper with her life. To destroy her hard-won peace.

Even their toughest guards had the good sense to move out of her way as they took in her murderous glare. She usually considered herself a calm, pleasant person, but that flew out the window with the phone call she'd received. Eviscerating her brother with a rusty spike sounded like a pretty good idea.

When she barged in, Tarron was seated behind
his desk in his office, reading some papers, head down, shoulder-length dark brown hair falling around his face. The door banged into the wall and his head snapped up, expression startled.

“Calla! What's wrong?” He stood.

“What's
wrong
?” She stared at him incredulously. “Are you serious? I get a phone call from the Russian vampire prince himself thanking me
very
enthusiastically for inviting him to our party, saying he's looking forward to
seeing
me, and you ask what's wrong?”

“Calm down and have a seat, would you?”

“I'll calm down when you tell me you aren't playing matchmaker.” When he shifted in his chair, surprise turning to guilt, she marched up to his desk. “Way to throw me face-first under the bus, big brother.”

“Rolan Stanislav is a great catch,” he said defensively.

“That old fogie is nine hundred years old!”

“So what? We're over four hundred, which doesn't exactly make us spring chickens,” he said evenly. “You know very well he's quite attractive, and any number of female vamps would kill to mate with him.”

That, at least, was the truth. Rolan was tall, powerful, with long white blond hair and jade green eyes. She didn't know him very well personally, but he was widely considered kind and honorable. Admirable.

Unfortunately, he wasn't Stefano. The thought of replacing her dead mate made her sick with guilt, though it had been decades since he was killed.

She shook herself from taking that nightmare trip down memory lane. “Then they're welcome to him.”

“Just one problem with that—he wants you. Has for ages, Calla, ever since he recovered from his mate's death. How long are you going to avoid him? Hell, not just him but the entire male population?”

“I don't care what he or anyone else wants! European vampires are stuck in the Middle Ages when it comes to just about everything, including their views on women.” That wasn't necessarily true anymore, and it felt like the lame excuse it was. She crossed her arms over her chest. “I'm not mating with him and that's final.”

“I'm not asking you to mate with him. Just
meet
with him, socialize a bit. Give him a chance, for me? He's a suitable match who would bring two vampire covens together as one unbeatable force. Nobody would mess with us then.”

“Nobody would mess with us
now
,” she insisted. “Except for Carter and his band of thugs, there isn't anyone who's dared in the past seventy years.”

“I never take our safety for granted.” His lips thinned in anger.

“Neither do I. But I'm sure there's another way to merge with another powerful coven besides selling me to the highest bidder.”

At that, he looked shocked and hurt. “I would never suggest such a thing. Calla, I love you. I just want to see you happy again.”

“And if you can kill two birds with one stone, all the better?”

“Yes. Is that so wrong?”

No, it wasn't. Her outrage evaporated like smoke as she studied her brother. Tarron truly loved her, and their coven. She had never doubted that. Every day, he put his own happiness on hold to make certain they were all safe and prosperous. He worked harder than anyone she knew.

And she suddenly noted something about him. There was a shadow in his eyes she'd never seen before. Perhaps it was worry, or melancholy.

Slowly, she lowered herself into a chair. “Do you have reason to believe we're going to be threatened?”

“Nothing specific,” he admitted. “But I've been uneasy. There's a feeling of foreboding that I can't quite shake. As though Carter's death was too easy, and there's something waiting in the shadows. Like the old saying goes, if you kill one cockroach in the kitchen, there's a million more behind the walls. I can't explain it better than that.”

His words gave her a chill, and she rubbed her arms. “We've got good allies in the Alpha Pack.”

Unbidden, a mental picture of the Pack's sexy commander popped into her head. She tried to ignore it—and struggled not to think about how he'd spun on his heel and walked away after meeting her. As if she'd offended him with her presence. The dismissal still stung.

Tarron nodded. “Yes. And I'm glad about that. To be honest, I wouldn't mind having them around all the time, but Nick needs his men there. They've got a job to do.”

“True, but their purpose isn't so different from ours. They fight to protect others from harm so we can all live peacefully. They're a family, like us.”

“Yes, but they're not vampires.”

“Elitist much?”

He scowled. “I didn't mean that they're less because they're shifters, just that they don't hold the same loyalty to us as our own kind would.”

“That's your opinion, with no proof to support it.”

Her brother merely shrugged. “I'm grateful for their friendship, and I know they'd come if we needed them. I just don't see the harm in our coven being bigger and stronger.”

“How about ‘the bigger they are, the harder they fall'? Ever heard that one?”

“Gods, you wear me out.” He rubbed his eyes, then leveled a piercing look at her. “So, will you make nice with Rolan at the party?”

“Seeing as you're not going to let this rest until
I do, I'll agree. But only to be cordial, nothing more,” she warned him.

Tarron gave her the brilliant smile that turned other females' knees to jelly. Calla had to admit it was pretty potent. Until she remembered what a jerk he could be sometimes.

Coming around the desk, he wrapped her in a hug. “Thank you. I promise the Russian prince will be a perfect gentleman. And if you really don't have any feelings for him, I won't push. Either way, it still won't hurt to have a strong ally.”

“All right, I can't argue with that.”

“Thank fuck.”

Laughing, she pulled back and pecked him on the cheek. “Talk to you later.”

Throwing Tarron a smile, she took her leave. It was hard to stay angry at her brother. But her amusement quickly faded as she replayed their conversation in her head. Even if she were ready to move on, to take another mate or even simply a lover, she'd never felt a pull toward Rolan.

Not like she'd experienced when she'd met Nick Westfall a few days ago. They'd been introduced and he'd taken her hand—and it was like she'd been pumped with a million volts of electricity. From the shock on the wolf shifter's handsome, rugged face, he'd felt it as well.

And he'd been none too pleased, if his hasty exit was any indication.

Sadness nearly overwhelmed her in that
moment, tears pricking her eyes, and she wasn't sure why. She'd met the man for all of thirty seconds, and didn't know him from Adam. So why was there a gaping hole in her chest?

A desperate need to escape overwhelmed her. Sometimes the coven's mountain stronghold in the Smokies was more of a prison than a home. Going against her brother's standing directive, she used her gift of translocation to avoid her bodyguards and take herself away from there.
Far
away. She knew exactly where she wanted to be, and when she landed a few seconds later, she stood in a gorgeous copse of trees in the middle of the Shoshone National Forest hundreds of miles from the coven.

Home to the Alpha Pack. And the wolf commander.

What was this compulsion? This aching need to be near him? The last time she'd felt this way had been . . . when she met Stefano. Her throat burned with grief at the thought of what that might mean.

There was a certain peace in being cold and numb. In allowing every limb and organ to remain frozen so that the pain could never sneak in again. The idea of finally allowing the thaw was beyond her comprehension at this point. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to let another man inside her heart. Or whether she was capable.

She wandered for a while, enjoying the lush forest with its greenery. Insects buzzed and various
birds chattered. The day wasn't too hot, a balmy breeze moving the leaves and branches. At last she came to a break on a rise and sucked in a breath at the beautiful Rocky Mountains in the distance. The sight was simply gorgeous.

But not nearly as breathtaking as the man sitting in the grass on the edge of the knoll, looking out over the vast expanse as though trying his best to ascertain the secrets of the world. His profile was strong and almost regal, with a square jaw and dark eyebrows arching over a straight nose that sat perfectly on his rugged face. His inky hair was touched with silver at his temples. He had a set of broad shoulders, and she remembered he was tall when standing, well over six feet.

One of his jean-clad legs was stretched out in the grass, the other bent at the knee. Compelled by some unnamed force, she approached and spotted a wicked-looking dagger with a pearl handle sitting on the ground at his side. Frowning, she studied it, then looked back to the commander. She could have sworn she scented blood—a sweet, heady aroma that she recognized was pure Nick. But she didn't
see
any blood.

Finally, he lifted his wary gaze and acknowledged her presence. “Calla.”

“Hello, Nick,” she said, glad her voice gave away no hint of how hard her pulse was racing at the sight of him. “Out for a run?”

“I let my wolf out earlier, but now I'm just out
for a walk and taking a break to do some thinking.” He studied her intently. “You're about the last person I expected to see out here.”

She shrugged, and decided to go for honesty. “I was drawn here. I'm not one hundred percent sure why.”

Instead of addressing that, he asked, “Ditched your guards again, did you? Your brother will be pissed.”

Moving around in front of him so she could see him better, she narrowed her eyes. “How did you know about that? Has Tarron been talking about me?”

One corner of his full, succulent mouth kicked up. “He didn't have to. I've seen you do it.”

“What? When?” She stared at him in surprise.

“A few weeks ago, when the team and I stayed at your stronghold. Before I was . . .”

She didn't have to ask
Before what?
She knew he was referring to when he had been kidnapped by Carter, and tortured. She let it go for now, to his visible relief. “What was I doing when you saw me?”

“Pretty much the same. You were out for a walk in the woods, and you'd decided to sit by a pond for a while. I was in wolf form and I watched you until Tarron yelled, obviously upset and looking for you.”

She blinked at his frank admission. “I'm not sure how to feel about you spying on me.”

“I was just making sure no harm came to you,” he said, then looked away. “And maybe admiring the view as well.”

“Really, now,” she murmured, a tiny thrill dancing through her body. Making a decision, she took a seat beside him on the grass, uninvited. “You could have at least made yourself known so I could've had the same pleasure.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest and he seemed to relax a fraction. “You don't mince words.”

“Never saw the point.” They were silent for a moment. Her gaze fell on the knife again and she nodded at it. “I'm not thinking a born wolf shifter needs a blade for an afternoon stroll. Were you planning to harm yourself? I smelled blood when I approached you.”

His shoulders tensed. For a while she thought he wouldn't answer. Then he held out his arm and turned his wrist over, showing her a red line, the slice still a bit bloody. The implication washed over her like ice water.

“Why isn't it healing?” She couldn't hide the tremor in her voice.

“Silver blade,” he said simply. “But if I wanted to do the job right, I'd have to drive it into my heart.”

Truly alarmed, she placed a hand on his thigh, noting the hard muscles bunching under her palm. The spark of attraction threatened to ignite again, but she fought it down. This wasn't the
time. Focusing on his emotions, she could see that anyone would think he was completely calm—if it wasn't for the desolation in his dark blue eyes.

She kept her voice gentle, nonjudgmental. “Why would you contemplate such a thing? Because of what Carter did to you?”

His eyes snapped to hers, piercing her to the core. “What do you know? Has Tarron given you the sordid details?”

“No,” she assured him. “My brother and his men are not prone to discussing others' misfortunes, especially when it involves a mission or a battle. The only ones who are privy to everything are the ones who were there, or those who need to be told.”

Dropping his chin, he blew out a breath. “That's good to know. Thank you.”

“I'm here, however, if you want to talk.” She paused, biting her bottom lip with one fang before admitting, “I've been where you are now. At the lowest point in my life, I was ready to give up.”

That got his undivided attention again. Startled, he laid a hand over hers. “For God's sake, why? I can't imagine a woman as smart and beautiful as you having a reason to feel that way.”

She gave him a sad smile. “Thank you. But I had every reason, or so I believed at the time. I lost my mate over seventy years ago, and I almost didn't survive his death.”