Wolf-Bound: Unfamiliar Territory Read online

  WOLF-BOUND:

  UNFAMILIAR TERRITORY

  Rachel Bo

  ®

  www.loose-id.com

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable.

  Wolf-Bound: Unfamiliar Territory

  Rachel Bo

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either 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.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © September 2007 by Rachel Bo

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-547-0

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Raven McKnight

  Cover Artist: Anne Cain

  Prologue

  Jake sat up abruptly. The curtains in this seedy dive, worn through by repeated washings over who knew how many years, let in plenty of moonlight. He drew in a deep breath, cataloguing each scent as he scanned the room carefully. A moldy tub, dusty lampshades, his and Johnathan’s sour sneakers. He sensed nothing out of place, saw nothing, and yet something had disturbed him.

  Always one to trust his instincts, he turned to shake his brother awake.

  Glass shattered behind him. Instinctively, he grabbed the edge of the blanket beneath him with his left hand and held on as he rolled, pulling it over himself and Johnathan as shards crashed and tinkled.

  His brother grunted, flailing as Jake’s weight and momentum carried them off the bed and onto the floor. Jake scrambled, crawling out of the blanket. He grabbed Johnathan’s arm and dragged him toward the bathroom. Shadows played over the walls as glass crunched beneath footsteps behind them. Jake tightened his grip on Johnny’s arm, and with a surge of effort, they dove into the bathroom. He slammed the door, clicking the lock just as something heavy hit the other side.

  Jake stood and helped a still-groggy Johnathan to his feet.

  Johnny’s gaze darted around the tiny room. “What are we going to do?”

  Jake thought fast. There was no window in here ‑‑ the hotel rooms backed up against each other. The only way out or in was through the front door or the shattered window, both in the other room.

  Another thud, and the bathroom door groaned. Jake shook his head. “We have no choice ‑‑ we have to change.” He stepped in front of his brother. “I’ll go first, hit the floor running. No matter what happens, you get out.”

  Johnathan nodded, though they both knew he’d never leave his brother behind.

  They arched, lips thinned in concentration. Their bodies rippled, torsos thickening, faces elongating, sprouting fur dark as midnight. In seconds, the bodies of two huge wolves crowded the bathroom. Johnathan backed into the shower stall as Jake crouched against the wall opposite the door, gathered his strength, and leaped.

  The door splintered, a long piece down the middle see-sawing over the body of the person now trapped on the floor beneath it. The moment his paws found purchase on the lumpy body and splintered wood beneath him, Jake sprang again.

  One quick snap of his jaw, and the man he landed on next no longer had a throat.

  “Shit,” a shadow to his left hissed.

  The dark silhouette scrambled away from him. He moved to follow, but a snatch of quiet syllables murmured in an ancient tongue raised his hackles. Turning quickly, he crouched and growled at this new and greater threat.

  Witch.

  Snarling, he squared his haunches, powerful muscles bunching.

  The chant faltered. “Merrill!”

  Jacob vaulted. At the edge of his vision, a shadow outside the window whirled, arms raised. A soft snick sounded, and moonlight glinted off the tip of the bolt whistling toward his throat.

  Something slammed onto his back, and he lost his momentum. Hitting the ground hard, his legs buckled. He heard a fleshy thud, a whimper, and then the weight slid off him. Johnathan.

  Jake struggled to his feet and turned. Johnathan’s eyes glinted in the moonlight, a dark stain growing on the floor beneath him. The witch started chanting again, and Jake swept out his paw, slicing her hamstring with his claws.

  The woman screamed. Another bolt whizzed through the air, but Jake sprang back, and it thudded harmlessly into the wall. The witch turned, groaning as her damaged leg took her weight. The leg buckled. Jake slashed again, and the woman crumpled to the ground, gasping frantically as life spilled from her jugular.

  He turned to the broken window. Curtains billowed, giving him a glimpse of the fourth assailant, who bared his teeth as he thrust another bolt into place and leveled the crossbow at Jake’s chest.

  Jake crouched low, gathered his strength, then surged forward. As he’d expected, the bowman aimed high, anticipating him, expecting him to go for the neck, and the quarrel riffled the fur on his spine as it sailed harmlessly past. Instead, Jake flowed over the low windowsill. He closed his jaws on the man’s right knee and ground his teeth, crushing the kneecap. The man screamed, his bow clattering to the asphalt as he fell backward, aiming desperate punches at Jacob’s muzzle.

  Jake held on, ignoring the blows until a stabbing pain blossomed in his shoulder. He unclasped his jaws and raised his head. Sparing a brief sideways glance for the quarrel now embedded in his shoulder, he slammed one of his massive forepaws onto his assailant’s scrabbling fingers as the guy reached for another bolt. His opponent gasped. His free hand tore ineffectually at Jake’s ruff as Jake lowered his jaws, daintily and precisely snipping the man’s jugular.

  Jake stayed low, scanning the parking lot. There didn’t appear to be any more enemies outside the room. No sirens yet, either. Maybe luck. Or maybe in this part of Vegas, anyone who might have heard them had too much to hide to risk calling the police.

  Jacob turned back to the room, peering over the windowsill, perking his sensitive ears. The other man, the one who had whispered, “Shit,” and scrambled away, appeared to have fled. Johnathan and the witch lay puddled on the floor, but his brother was the only one of the two still breathing.

  The man beneath the splintered door breathed, too. Very shallowly, very quietly, staying very still.

  Playing dead.

  The urge to finish him off was strong, but Jacob hopped the sill and padded over to his brother instead.

  Johnathan’s human form gleamed palely in the moonlight, his body covered in sweat though his teeth chattered. The bolt protruded from his chest, just between the fifth and sixth ribs. Dispatching the witch and the bowman had taken Jake less than a minute, yet an incredible amount of blood pooled on the ground beneath his brother.

  “They got me, big brother.” Jake’s sensitive wolf ears barely registered the pained, hoarse whisper.

  Conc
entrating briefly, Jacob shivered and warped, changing back to human form. Wincing, he tugged the tip of the bolt, only half-buried, from his injured shoulder and tossed it aside, ignoring the blood that trickled from the wound. He knelt by his brother. “You’ll be okay, Johnny-boy. Let’s get you to a doctor.” He slipped an arm under Johnathan’s shoulders, but his brother held up a hand.

  “You’re…the only…one…can…get away…calling me that.”

  “I know.” Jacob blinked back tears. “You saved my life, little brother.” Though they were twins, he had been born two minutes earlier. He was the alpha, the one responsible. For everything.

  “’S nothin’.” Johnathan flung his arm up, grabbed Jake’s neck, and pulled him close. “P-protect…our…sons.”

  “Hush now, Johnny.” Tears trembled on Jake’s lashes as he slipped his other arm beneath Johnathan’s thighs and lifted him in one smooth move. “You’re going to be all right.”

  Johnny clutched his shoulder, eyes wide, demanding. “Promise…me.”

  Jacob nodded wordlessly, and Johnny smiled.

  The guy who had been huddled beneath the splintered wood of the door was now crawling toward the window. He froze as they turned, but Jake ignored him as he stepped over the dead witch and carried his brother outside.

  A warm breath caressed Jake’s ear. “Love…you.”

  Jake sobbed. “I love you, too, Johnny.”

  Before he could reach the car, his brother drew in a sharp, rattling gulp of air, then let it out in a long sigh.

  He didn’t breathe again.

  * * * * *

  Jacob pried his gummy eyelids apart and slapped at the tickle on his arm, sending a small lizard scurrying for cover. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back and stared at the gray, pre-dawn sky.

  He rubbed dirt from his cheek, his chest. He was still naked. His shoulder ached and his fingers throbbed. He glanced over at the fresh grave beside him.

  He’d driven out of Las Vegas, heading west, turning off onto a back road into the middle of nowhere and then cutting across the desert itself toward an area of low mesas. In a shallow arroyo between two of the blunt-topped hills, beneath an overhang, he’d dug as a wolf until his pads bled, and then buried his brother. Afterward, exhausted, he’d wept himself asleep atop Johnathan’s grave.

  His brother shouldn’t have died. Weyr were supposed to be near-invincible.

  But the quarrel had punctured a lung and pierced his heart.

  He wanted to stay. Wanted to lie beside his brother until the sand claimed them both and they hunted together again in the Land of the Goddess.

  But he’d promised Johnny.

  He grunted, pushing himself to his feet. He could feel their presence. His and Johnathan’s sons, inside the woman Johnny had been so sure was meant for them, waiting to be born. He closed his eyes, turning slowly until he felt an abrupt tug on his inner senses. He opened his eyes.

  Somewhere to the north.

  Jake nodded. Out there, a part of Johnny still lived.

  He found the car, pulled a change of clothes from the duffel in the back, and thought while he tugged on jeans and a T-shirt.

  First, he needed to do a little backtracking, lay some false trails. The enemy wouldn’t find him again easily. Not with his and Johnny’s sons at stake.

  He’d lost them before, for nearly six years. He could do it again.

  He had to.

  Unhappy Beginning

  “Top you off?”

  Eden nodded, and Tara tipped a couple inches of coffee into her cup, wincing as she straightened. She flashed a smile at her customer and headed back behind the counter. Setting the pot down, she rubbed at the small of her back. She was only four months pregnant, but carrying twins, already showing, and uncertain how much longer she would be able to keep working as a waitress. The way her back had been hurting lately, she suspected that wouldn’t be long.

  Sighing, she stared moodily out of the diner’s smoky windows. Marshall Loman, the town’s only attorney, had hinted he might take her on as a secretary, but she couldn’t help wondering if he expected more than secretarial help in return. She’d had a crush on him off and on in high school, which would make it even harder to work for him if he had the wrong idea about her. Most of the people in town still treated her kindly, at least to her face, but she knew a few whispered behind her back about her going off to New Orleans and turning up pregnant afterwards. There was a population of the trashier single guys ‑‑ even a few of the married ones ‑‑ who seemed to think she was now the town slut. They mostly left her alone, though, since she’d broken Billy Thompson’s nose.

  She allowed herself a tiny smile. Taught him not to put his hands where they weren’t wanted. Of course, he’d threatened to sue her, but Marshall had refused to take the case. “A big, strong guy like you suing a young woman pregnant with twins, because she broke your nose when you ran your hand up her skirt? They’d laugh us both out of the courtroom.” At least, that’s what Marshall had told her he’d said when Billy showed up at his office. Over his coffee one day here at the café, he had mentioned the visit. That’s also when he had suggested she come to work for him.

  Maybe she would. Even though Marshall had been a bit of a ladies’ man in high school, he didn’t seem to be like that anymore, and she really had to do something about getting off her feet. And besides, she didn’t want to be a waitress all her life. Yes, she made enough money to support herself, and the owner of Times Past Café, Rona, had been good to her, but she wanted a steady eight-to-five job, where she didn’t have to deal with grease, stray hands, rude comments, and being on her feet constantly. Also, she needed a job with an insurance plan for the babies’ sake. Or one that paid enough so she could afford a ‑‑

  Sharp, stabbing pains just below the curve of her rounded belly made her gasp. She gripped the edge of the counter, breath whistling sharply between her teeth. Eden glanced up from her paper. “Tara, you okay?”

  She started to nod, but then the pain came again. Warmth trickled along her inner thigh. She sank to the floor, staring as blood pooled between her legs.

  “Tara?” Eden peered over the counter and gasped.

  “Call nine-one-one,” Tara whispered and doubled over as yet another cramp racked her belly.

  Taps and beeps. Eden scrambled around behind the counter, shouting for Rona between firing off answers into her cell phone. “Yes, she’s conscious. Yes, but there’s an awful lot of blood on the floor. She’s pregnant and ‑‑”

  Rona bustled in from the back, then dashed over and squatted beside her. “Oh, God, honey! What happened?”

  Tara opened her mouth to answer, but Rona’s round face seemed to be sliding away down a dark tunnel, and Tara was too tired to follow, so she closed her eyes.

  * * * * *

  Tara woke to bright lights and a concerned, familiar face hovering near hers.

  “Damien, she’s awake. Get the doctor.” Jenny squeezed Tara’s hand, smiling, but her eyes were bright with unshed tears, and a worried furrow split her brow.

  “A-are the ‑‑” Tara’s voice cracked.

  Jenny grabbed a cup from the bedside table and held the straw while Tara sucked down a sip of icy water.

  She tried again. “Are the babies all right?”

  Jenny shared a glance with Devlin, who was standing near the foot of the bed. Her lips pressed together tight.

  “It’s bad news, isn’t it?”

  Behind Jen, the door banged open and Damien pushed through, holding it while Dr. Tom Byers strode into the room.

  “How are you, Tara?” Tom’s slender fingers felt for her pulse as he watched the second hand on his watch.

  “Have I lost them?” She took a deep, shuddering breath, fighting back a sob.

  Jenny reached out and clasped her right hand. Tom closed his eyes for moment, then met her gaze. “There’s no easy way to say this.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve lost one of the twins, Tara.”

  She close
d her eyes, clinging to Jenny’s hand for dear life. Tom’s voice rang in her head as she struggled to keep breathing.

  “Oh, Tara.” She felt Jenny’s cheek, damp with tears, against the back of her hand. “I’m so sorry. But you can’t give up, sweetie.”

  “That’s right.” Tom’s hands gripped her shoulders. “The other baby’s doing fine, Tara, and there’s no reason you can’t carry him to ‑‑”

  “What happened?” she gasped, opening her eyes to stare at him through a watery haze.

  “Honestly, we don’t know. Everything seemed fine. Carrying twins can be risky, but your pregnancy was progressing normally. I had no concerns at all.” He raked a hand through his graying hair. “The other baby’s doing fine. You seem fine.” He shook his head. “Some doctors believe that unexpected miscarriages like this happen when nature detects something we can’t, but…we may never know what went wrong.” He rubbed his head again. “I’m so sorry.”

  Tara nodded, tears flowing, but her free hand crept to cradle her belly. “But…his brother’s all right?”

  Tom nodded. “I want to keep you a couple of days, run a few more tests, but the crisis seems to have passed. I’ll know more when we have all the test results back.”

  Tara nodded again, and he backed away.

  “Thanks, Dr. Byers.” Damien opened the door and held it as Tom left.

  Jenny’s eyes met hers, and Tara felt her face crumple. Her best friend leaned over and hugged her fiercely. She heard the door click shut as Damien and Devlin gave them their privacy, and then she buried her face in Jen’s shoulder and wailed helplessly. Jenny held her tight, a pillar of support, the only thing keeping her afloat amidst a maelstrom of hot tears and waves of bitter loss.

  Unselfish Friends

  Three days later, she sat staring out the back window of Jenny’s hybrid minivan, worrying. None of the tests performed at the hospital had been able to determine why she’d lost one of the twins, so Dr. Byers had decided the safest course for the baby remaining was for Tara to be on bed rest until he was sure the danger had passed. She had no idea how she was going to support herself.