Chapter Four
The tension in the SUV could be cut with a knife by the time they pulled into an underground garage. The air-conditioning was humming, but she was sweating. Was this what the experts meant when they warned women not to allow kidnappers to take them to a secondary location? Only she was a willing victim and he was no kidnapper.
She’d spent the entire journey watching him when she should have been mapping the route. His skin had an olive cast that glowed like he spent time outside. She wondered if it looked like that all over.
“You okay?” He parked in a spot near an elevator and cut the engine.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She’d also had the presence of mind to check the last street sign and had a good idea where she was in the city. At least her survival instincts hadn’t totally deserted her. Time to pull it together. “Where are we?”
“A safe house.” He climbed out of the vehicle and closed the door.
“Well, that’s as clear as mud.” She hopped out, grabbing her knapsack. “What about the coat?” She didn’t care if she ever saw it, the hat, or wig ever again.
“It will be taken care of.” He locked the vehicle, deposited the keys in the magnetic box, and placed it back in the wheel well.
“Of course it will,” she muttered. Not only was he a lone wolf, he was also the broker, arguably one of the most powerful men in the world. “Must be nice to have people at your beck and call.”
“Doesn’t suck.”
The way he said it made her give him a second look. “Is that a joke? Do you even have a sense of humor?” If he did, she was in deeper trouble than she already was.
“This way.” He motioned to the elevator without answering. His response made her second-guess her previous assessment. His answer had probably been literal rather than lighthearted.
The elevator door slid open as soon as he touched the button, and they stepped inside. His lips twitched as the panel closed. “Ah-ha! I saw that.” She pointed at him. “You are joking.”
“Not really. It doesn’t suck to have people at my, as you put it, beck and call. I pay them well for what they do.”
It was weird to think of him employing a vast army of workers. She’d been alone since she’d escaped Solange’s grasp at fifteen, living by her wits with the help of her magic.
She tensed when he leaned down, his breath tickling her neck. “But I enjoy fun as much as the next man.”
Before she could decide if he was being provocative or factual, the elevator came to a stop and opened on the sixth floor, not the penthouse as she’d assumed. Note to self, don’t make assumptions. This made sense. In an emergency, he could escape through a window. The drop he’d made earlier this evening was only a floor lower, and he’d had no trouble with that.
The lock was digital. He blocked her view and punched in the code. Holding the door open, he waved her in. “After you.”
Gripping the strap of her knapsack tighter, she entered, not knowing what to expect. The decor was done in tasteful shades of brown and cream. The living area flowed into a combined dining and kitchen area. Not overly large but lovely. The art on the walls were framed black-and-white cityscapes. It looked more like an upscale boutique hotel room than a home.
“Now that we’re here, hand over your bag and empty your pockets.”
“What?” She clung tighter to her bag. Everything that was important to her was in it.
“You didn’t think I was kidding earlier, did you? I want any electronic devices.”
“I dumped my phone like you said.”
“I saw.” He held his hand out and gave his fingers a little wave, as if he expected her to hand her belongings over without protest. “I was there. Even rode on the top of the subway car for a few stops.”
There it was again, that odd lightening of his features and the not-quite smile that made her heart flutter. He’d enjoyed himself. “You were there?” She’d discounted the odd sensation in her blood as nerves. “Why the charade?”
“To make certain you weren’t setting me up.” His lips pulled into a thin line, and he motioned for her to hand over her belongings.
“Let’s talk about this.” Nothing was incriminating. She wasn’t sure why she was protesting so vehemently. Yes, yes she did. It was the lack of trust, the sense of violation.
“There’s nothing to talk about. Give it over or we’re done.” It was the night in Romania all over again. His will was implacable, the teasing man from moments before gone. They stared at each other, neither of them giving ground. Finally, his features softened. “Please.”
It wasn’t much, but for him it was a huge concession. This was not a man who ever gave ground. “Fine.” She stalked to the dining table, unzipped the knapsack, and dumped the contents. After giving it a shake for good measure, she threw it at him. He caught it and ran his hands over the material before placing it beside the mound of items.
He checked every compartment of her wallet, studying the picture she’d tucked inside. It was worn at the edges from handling and all she had left of her brother. He opened pouches of crystals and sniffed at the boxes containing incense. Her cheeks heated when he picked up a pair of navy blue panties.
“Pretty.”
“I’m sure you get your kicks feeling up women’s underwear.”
“Only when they’re wearing them.” His rough voice skated over her skin, and the panties she was wearing dampened.
She cleared her throat. “You done?”
“Not even close.” He picked through every piece of clothing, including the pockets of the jeans she’d stashed for a change of clothes. Her keys jangled as he examined each one. The man took paranoia to a whole other level, not that she was much better. Neither of them had lived an easy life.
He finally returned everything to the bag and zipped it closed.
“Now are you done?” She was tired, hungry, and desperately wanted a shower.
“I’m only getting started.” He slipped his hand around her wrist and removed the cuff she wore there.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking everything.”
Exasperated, she yanked the cuff off the opposite wrist, followed by her rings, earrings, and necklace. They were all crystals, tuned to her to help with her magic. “What’s next, a strip search?” She was being facetious, but he looked her up and down, dead serious.
“If that’s what it takes.”
…
Hands fisted at her sides, she looked seconds away from slugging him. “Forget it, buddy. No how, no way.”
It was wrong of him to tease, but he couldn’t help himself, not after that crack she’d made about him earlier. “What, can’t take a joke?”
She glanced at the ground and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Her uncertainty hit him like a fist to the gut. It wasn’t fair to provoke her, not when she was at his mercy. She might be a mage, but he was a lone wolf. “I’m being a bastard. In my defense, I’m not good at the humor thing.”
She tilted her head to the side, as if trying to figure out his angle. “You need practice.”
The knot in his gut eased. “I had to be sure.”
She dragged her fingers through her hair, dislodging a few strands from her bedraggled braid. “I get it.” A delightful shade of pink washed over her cheekbones. “Did you have to check my underwear?”
She was joking with him. Warmth expanded in this chest. “It was the best part of the job.” He wasn’t lying. Touching the silky fabric, imagining it on her, would feature in his fantasies for days to come. He wanted to ask about the boy in the picture but didn’t have the right. “Where’s the journal?” That was conspicuous in its absence.
Reaching around behind her, she pulled it out of her back pocket. He didn’t know whether to laugh or scold. Potentially the most valuable tool in their war against their enemies and she was running around the city with it in her back pocket. It was a replica of the one he’d found, the leather covering well worn and supple from years of handling. His wolf bristled at the energy emanating from it.
“Don’t worry. I made a copy but figured you’d only accept the original.”
She understood him well. Come to think of it, she knew him better than anyone in the entire world. Thrown off balance, he strode to the kitchenette and pulled two bottles of water out of the fridge. Without a word, he held one out to her. She hesitated but took it.
“Thanks.” She unscrewed the top and drank deeply. The slight tilt of her head exposed the slender column of her throat and the curve of her shoulder. His teeth tingled, his fangs wanting to drop.
What the hell? He was staring at the area where the mating mark went on female wolves. He shook his head and locked down his primal instincts. She was a mage, not a wolf. They were not mates. They were allies, brought together by a common goal.
As much as he was physically drawn to her, he refused to let it be more than that. Both of them were being manipulated by magic. He wasn’t about to allow his actions to be influenced or directed by an outside source. He hadn’t chosen to become a lone wolf. That had been thrust on him by Fate. Or maybe it hadn’t.
He set down the bottle in his hand without opening it. “You said you know everything. Why there are three lone wolves?” His heartbeat kicked up a notch. Outwardly, his expression showed nothing.
“I told you Charles killed his brother.”
“The previous lone wolf.”
“Yes.” Her fingers tightened around the bottle so hard that the plastic buckled and sent water spurting from the top. “Damn it.” She set it on the table and rubbed her wet hands on the legs of her pants. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s water.” And the least of his concerns. “The lone wolf.”
“The attempt failed. The essence of the lone wolf, the energy or source, or whatever you want to call it, has always chosen its successor. There’s no way to control it. Or there wasn’t until Solange decided to get involved. She tried to force it into Charles, but the spirit of the lone wolf fought her.” Onyx fidgeted with the hem of her top before stuffing her hands in her front pockets. Pockets he hadn’t searched. Considering what she’d had hidden in her back pocket, that was a huge oversight. He watched, ready to react to any attack, but she pulled them out again and rubbed them over her arms.
Her agitation was making his wolf irritable. Not to mention what it was doing to him. “Finish it.”
“When she realized she was losing, she cast another spell. This one split the power into three equal parts and sent it out into the world.”
“I fucking knew it.” Every muscle in his body flexed and tightened. “Being a lone wolf was never my fate.” Anguish gripped him. He wanted to howl in fury for all that he’d lost. Then he wanted to destroy Charles and Solange. They’d taken everything from him—family, pack, the future that should have been his.
“I don’t believe that.” Her matter-of-fact tone made something snap inside him.
He had her back against the wall before she could blink, her hands caught over her head, manacled by his. Her eyes widened, nostrils flared, but she didn’t back down. Their eyes locked in silent combat. “How can you say that?”
She licked her lips. His dick flexed and hardened, responding to her nearness. He fought the reflex with everything he had, not willing to be a slave to his physical body.
“The lone wolf has always chosen its successor. I truly believe no outside magic could change that. I think that at any given time there are several potential candidates for the position. When the lone wolf transitions, the best is chosen. There’s no definitive way of telling which one of you would have ended up as lone wolf if there’d been no interference, but I know with everything I am that it would have been you.”
He shook his head and growled, unable to speak.
When she tugged her hands away, he released them. She traced her fingers over his face. His anger bled away, leaving only uncertainty. “The white and gray wolves are strong, but it was always meant to be you. And if she’d had a choice, she would have chosen weaker candidates as the vessels. Like it or not, you’re the choice of the lone wolf.”
He closed his eyes and accepted the truth that echoed inside him. As much as he’d railed against his life and cursed the forces that had put him here, he’d always known. The other two were strong and fast and dedicated, but he’d studied them, tracked them without them being the wiser. He’d accepted the final fight would come down to him.
When she rested her palm against his cheek, he leaned into it, unable to stop himself. It comforted him and his wolf. Not being a part of a pack had serious drawbacks, the largest being the lack of touch. His species was a tactile one. The loss of that created a never-ending hunger inside him.
Her other hand settled over his heart. The tattoo etched on his chest throbbed, amplifying his emotional pain. He was tired of fighting, constantly trying to stay one step ahead of his enemies, never having a moment’s peace. Not to mention the hunting of rogue wolves that called him on a regular basis. It all took a toll.
Giving in to the yearning tearing at his soul, he brushed his lips over hers. They were so damn soft. It was unexpected given her outward appearance. She was a striking woman, with her unique red and black hair and black eyes, who stood almost six feet tall. She likely intimidated the hell out of most people who met her. An air of toughness surrounded her.
Although he’d searched and tapped all his resources, there were gaps the size of the Grand Canyon in her backstory. Things even he couldn’t uncover. So much of her life was a mystery. What he’d managed to dig out pointed to a hard upbringing, one spent on the run. From who or what, he wasn’t sure. He did know she’d helped the gray wolf, putting herself in danger and pissing off Solange. That took balls of steel.
So did facing him down.
Her fingers flexed, digging into his skin, but she didn’t push him away. She gave a small sigh, her eyelids fluttered closed, and her lips parted. Not questioning the gift he was being given, he ran his tongue over the plump curves before delving inside.
Her tongue met his, tangling and teasing. Groaning, he lifted her off her feet. With the wall behind her and him in front of her, she was trapped. She threaded her fingers in his hair. The gentle sensation made him shiver. The acceptance made him yearn for more.
Some sane part of him argued that this wasn’t smart. He was playing right into the hands of his enemies by allowing himself to get closer to Onyx. She was a weakness he couldn’t afford, not if he expected to win the final battle.
“This doesn’t change anything between us.” He placed a row of kisses along the edge of her jaw.
“I know.” The sadness and acceptance in her reply made his heart ache. She dragged his head back and kissed him. Like the last time they’d met, there was a sense of inevitability wrapped up in desperation. They both understood time was running out, that one of them would likely be dead when this was over and the dust cleared.
He didn’t plan on it being him.
It was a punch in the gut. Gasping, he released her and took a step back, grabbing her around the waist when she started to slide to the floor. Every cell in his body yearned for her. He wanted to strip her naked and learn every inch of her, taste and touch every slope and hollow and commit it all to memory.
Even if they both survived the coming confrontation with Solange and Charles, she was human. Yes, she was a mage, which meant her lifespan would be slightly longer than a normal human’s, but unless she delved into dark magic—and he instinctively understood such a thing would be abhorrent to her—she’d be gone in a matter of decades.
No matter what happened, he’d lose her. Sooner or later, it didn’t matter. It was too much to bear either way. The other wolves had claimed their women. That was their decision. This was his. Better to keep a distance than risk his emotions being used against him. He needed to remain cool and steady, his heart unmoved by emotion, if he hoped to win the coming battle.
As soon as she was steady, he managed to command his fingers to release her. It was harder than it should have been. He took several steps back, putting physical distance between them.
She watched his every move, her eyes unreadable. Her face was flushed, her lips slightly swollen and damp. She looked like a woman who’d been thoroughly kissed. A hint of arousal perfumed the air.
He was the first to look away. The taste of her lingered in his mouth. He grabbed the open bottle of water and drank. It was then he realized his mistake. This was her bottle, not his. Her lips had touched the rim. Instead of washing away the taste of her, he was amplifying it.
Mistake or on purpose? He couldn’t honestly say. He offered her the remainder. She took it and drained the bottle before clearing her throat. “Solange’s biggest mistake,” she picked up their conversation as if the torrid kiss had never happened, “was expecting the energy of the lone wolf to be weakened because it was shared among three. It was supposed to make it easier for her to steal it from you all, one by one.”
A tingle ran down his back to the base of his spine. Inside him, his wolf stilled. This was important. “All of us are lone wolves. All of us are strong.”
“Yes. Her actions somehow amplified the energy rather than dissipating it.” She pushed away from the wall and placed the empty bottle on the counter. “But she’s had decades to study and learn. When you were all teenagers, she managed to steal samples of your blood. Not much, but enough to create a weakness for all of you.”
He pointed at her. “In my case, that would be you.”
“Yes. She chose human women, ensuring we had a drop of lone wolf blood in ours when we were born. A woman for each of the lone wolves. One who mimics your coloring. One you’re drawn to. One you’ll protect at all costs.”
Snarling, he stalked to the window and looked out over the city lights. The truth of her words was undeniable. He’d witnessed what the other two wolves had done to save the women in their lives. They survived the battle with Solange and Charles but didn’t win the war. He feared that would take the ultimate sacrifice.
If he died, the evil mage might find a way to trap the essence of the lone wolf and use it against the others. He had to live.
That meant Onyx had to die.
…
Charles set his phone down and smiled. Solange leaned forward, gripping the arms of the chair she was seated in. “You have news?” It was about time. The white and gray wolves had slipped through her fingers, but not this time. This time, she had more control over the situation.
He rose and rounded to the front of his desk to sit on the edge. He was back at full strength after almost dying at the hands of that bastard white wolf. She’d had almost as serious a run-in with the gray. This time, nothing and no one would stop them.
“The black wolf is in the city.”
“Confirmed?” Excitement churned in her belly.
“Yes. Seems he’s made his presence known to the Brooklyn Pack. One of my informants had a slight altercation with him.”
“And he lived?” The black wolf had been the most difficult to track over the years, but he had a reputation for being ruthless.
“Seems he was with someone.”
“It was her, wasn’t it?” The girl was Solange’s greatest creation to date. The only thing that would top it would be using the girl to gain her heart’s desire—immortality.
“Not according to the description, but it reads like a disguise. I think it’s fair to say they’ve made contact.”
She casually crossed her legs, trying to contain her eagerness. Charles was watching her closely, gauging her reaction. She needed to be in total control. “This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for.”
“What we’ve been waiting for,” he corrected.
“Of course.” She rose from her chair and wrapped her arms around her lover’s neck. “Once we have the black wolf’s power, the others will fall like dominos. Everything we deserve, everything we’ve worked for will be ours.”