Chapter 6

Matthias narrowed his eyes as one of the vampires stepped forward.

“You’re trespassing,” the vamp said, baring his teeth. His incisors lengthened, and Matthias clenched his teeth as he looked up at the sky. The sun was setting, but here, in the shadows of the mountains, the night had already crept in.

“This is Woodland territory,” he growled at the vampire. “You’re the ones trespassing.”

The vampire smiled, his pale blue eyes lightening with satisfaction. “Actually, no. Woodland ends about two miles back that way, near that great big line of Douglas firs,” he said, waving toward the curve of the ridge. “After that, it’s Nightwing.”

Matthias glanced over his shoulder, frowning. But Trinity... There was no sign of the tracker, or Jax, and his lips tightened. That damned she-wolf. She’d led them into an ambush. They were trespassing. He hadn’t trusted her, and had suspected she was leading them astray, but he hadn’t expected her to employ such an effective strategy.

Zane growled next to him, and Matthias shook his head, holding up his hands in a nonthreatening manner. They were in the wrong, but they could salvage this, and walk away. Hopefully.

“Apologies. We thought we were still on Woodland. Don’t worry, we won’t stay. We’ll get out of your hair.”

He took a step back, but the lead vampire shook his head, making a tsking sound.

“You think that’s going to finish this? A bunch of mutts march through Nightwing, and you think you can just...walk away?” He gestured casually, rolling his wrist. His smile widened. “I don’t think so.”

Matthias frowned. “Well, I don’t care what you think, that’s the way it’s going to happen. Marchetta and I have an agreement. We don’t camp, but we have safe access.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. “I don’t recall agreeing to that at all.”

“Are you going to bail on a deal?” Zane growled from deep in his throat, taking a step forward.

The vampire sprang across the clearing, landing lightly and silently so that he stood toe-to-toe with Zane. “I made no deal.” He lashed out, catching Zane on the cheek with his fist.

His movement was like a signal to the three vampires standing behind him, and they launched themselves at the first row of guardians.

Matthias ducked a kick from one vampire, then flung his arm up to brace himself against the punch aimed at his head. Moving like lightning, and with exceptional strength, the vampires were formidable foes on a bad day. This seemed to be a good day.

Matthias grunted as a leg kicked him in the gut, but he stopped and grabbed the next kick to his head. “Don’t bite them,” he roared to his guardians, fury at limiting his lycans in such a way adding a brutality to his own actions. He twisted the leg in his grip, turning and yanking, grunting in satisfaction at the resulting snap of bone. He heard the grunts and cries of lycan and vampire alike as they fought in the glade.

He sprang at the lead vampire who had Zane’s neck twisted at an alarming angle. He used his full body weight to knock the vampire and Zane off their feet. Zane rolled and rose to his feet, stretching his neck. His friend bared his teeth, and Matthias gave the vampire a quick jab to the face before turning to hold his friend back.

“Let me at him,” Zane snarled, trying to force his way past Matthias.

“We can’t hurt them,” Matthias grated back calmly, then lifted his leg to strike out at an advancing vampire, catching him savagely in the groin before spinning and thrusting his foot into the vampire’s solar plexus, sending him flying back to hit the rock face behind them.

A hand grabbed onto his hair, but couldn’t find purchase in the short military cut. Matthias grabbed the hand and spun, dragging the vampire off his feet and over his shoulder. The lead vampire hit the ground with a loud thud, and his eyes flashed from pale blue to bloodred in the blink of an eye.

Matthias bared his teeth and lowered his head until he and the lead vampire were nose to nose. “I could bite you now and end this,” he grated, “but that would be going back on my deal I struck with Vivianne Marchetta, Vampire Prime, and as such is to be honored by all Nightwing vampires and Alpine lycans.” He glared at the vampire in warning.

The vampire’s eyelids flickered, and his lips curled in a sneer. “My sister is letting the dogs out?” He shook his head in disgust. “She wouldn’t,” he said through gritted teeth, his incisors gleaming white in the encroaching darkness. “My sister would not make a pact with the dogs.”

Matthias nodded. “She did. Alpine are allowed safe access through Nightwing until we resolve a little dispute with your neighbors. During that time, we don’t bite the dead.” He snapped his teeth in warning, then tilted his head to the side. “Lucien, I presume? You should pay your sister a visit.” He waited until the vampire nodded. “Yeah, you’ll find there have been a few changes since your last visit.”

He levered himself up and off the vampire, stepping back to allow him to gain his feet.

The vampire arched his back, leaping to his feet with a stealthy grace. “I’ll talk to my sister, mutt, but trust me, this little arrangement of yours—it’s not going to last. I don’t know what the hell she was thinking, letting the dogs stink up our land.”

Zane’s stalked forward, fists clenched. “You think we stink?”

Matthias edged between the two, not taking his eyes off the vamp. “Go talk to your sister. I’m sure she’ll explain everything. You might want to tell her you nearly started a war with the wolves,” he added. “Somehow I don’t think she’d appreciate your meddling.” He lifted his chin. “And the agreement stands until Vivianne says otherwise—in person.”

Lucien Marchetta glared first at him, then at Zane. “This isn’t over.” He beckoned his vampires. Two of them had to be helped, and Lucien tucked the arm of one of his injured comrades around his neck. “Now that I’m back in town, things are going to change,” he said, his voice low and menacing. Then as a group they jumped, landing lightly on the ridge above them, and then disappeared into the night.

Matthias turned to his guardians, surveying them. Apart from some scratches and bruises, they looked more pissed than hurt.

“Let’s go find the tracker.” He stormed past them to scan the forest. She was out there somewhere, the traitorous little tracker. He ignored the voice inside his head that reminded him she was doing what any other lycan would do to protect her pack, using every weapon at her disposal. Even though he’d suspected she was somehow trying to trick them, she’d lied to him, which made him angry—but he wasn’t sure if he was angry at her for lying to him, or at himself for not detecting it. She’d played him smart, and he could appreciate that, even respect it—but she’d risked his men, the lycans he was responsible for, and that made him angry. Okay, fine, he was maybe a little pissed she didn’t trust him, although God only knew why he thought she would...and therein lay that tiny little sting. She didn’t trust him, and he wanted her to. So yes, he was hurt, but anger was always a better way to get over it.

But damn it, if things had escalated with Lucien Marchetta, then he’d be facing a war with the vamps as well as Woodland. They jogged back the way they’d come, right up to that fallen tree she’d parked her butt on as she watched them walk into a trap. He’d had no idea there was a curve in the border here, or that they’d be venturing into Nightwing territory. He had to give credit where it was due, though; she was clever.

Zane came up beside him. “She did it on purpose.”

“Of course she did it on purpose. She doesn’t want us anywhere near her pack.” Damn it, the forest was dark, and as they all spread out and peered at the ground, looking for signs of their trail, he realized they were trying to find someone who was very adept at covering her tracks.

“I can’t find any sign of her or the boy,” Zane said, jogging up to him.

Matthias stood there for a moment, thinking. “We have no idea where the den is,” he murmured, “so no clue as to which direction they might be headed in.”

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the immediate area. With the sense of sight removed, his other senses deepened. He could hear the rustle of the leaves in the tree, the slight ruffle of wings in the branches above. A cool breeze caressed his shoulders, and something small and four-footed scampered away from his group.

There. Honeysuckle and vanilla. He lifted his nose, sniffing at the air. Yep. It was faint, and it was laced with pine, as though she’d tried to mask her scent, but he would sniff her out if she dosed herself in pepper.

“There,” he said, opening his eyes and pointing forward and slightly to the right.

Zane frowned. “How can you tell?”

“Can’t you smell her?” Even now, her fragrance curled inside him, arousing him, and stirring his beast.

Zane sniffed the air, then shook his head. “Nope. All I’ve got is pine.”

Matthias smiled grimly. “Then follow me.” He turned to the group. “The rest of you, set up camp near that dip in the ridge.”

He and Zane loped off into the forest. They’d gone maybe two hundred yards when Zane tripped over something on the ground. He swore and picked it up, leaning back so the muted moonlight could illuminate the object.

A boot. Her boot.

Three steps later, Matthias found its mate, and narrowing his eyes, he could see the dark shadow of a pair of jeans dumped at the base of a tree.

He toed off his shoes, his hands lowering his fly. “She’s shifted.” He pulled his pants off and handed them to his friend. “Follow the trail. They’re going to need their clothes.” Matthias turned and started to jog into the darkness, shifting into wolf form as he ran.

* * *

Trin raced through the undergrowth, silently urging Jax to keep up with her. Her heart pounding, she kept changing direction, trying to make it as hard as possible for anyone to follow their trail. She’d used a pine sweeper to start, but once she shifted she couldn’t hold on to the sprig of pine to mask their scent. Hopefully it had been enough to prevent the Alpine guardians from picking up their trail.

She wasn’t quite sure what kind of start they had, but she was determined to take advantage of it. Jax tripped and rolled, a soft growl emitting from the little pup. He had a coat that consisted of sandy and brown patches, and she winced. His light colors weren’t exactly blending into the night forest. She paused until he got to his feet, then nudged him with her nose. They wouldn’t be able to get very far, not with Jax’s little legs and low stamina, but she hoped to get him to one of the tunnel entrances. Once there, they could hide and take their time to return to the den.

She thought of Matthias, and a faint sense of guilt rose within her. It had been low, leading them into the Nightwing corner. Low, but desperate. She knew there were always sentries there. It was close to the western border of their territory, and was one of the main thoroughfares east–west for the vampires wanting to avoid the lycan mountain ranges. It was always heavily guarded, and served almost as a stopover for traveling vamps.

How else was she supposed to get her and Jax away from them? Because there was no way she could do what Matthias wanted. The hackles on her back rose. No. Her heart pounding, she fought the instinct to increase her speed—that would leave Jax unprotected, and damn it, he was close by. She could sense him. She didn’t know why, didn’t understand this awareness she had of him, she just knew he was out there, hunting her down in the dark.

She spied a log in the short distance, and started to run for it. She could hide Jax in—

A flash of white was all the warning she had before she was hit in the side and sent rolling across the pine needles.

Jax skidded to a stop and barked as she found her feet, shaking her head. What the—

The white wolf growled, his green eyes flashing in the moonlight, head down. Instinct told her to lower her head, to sink to the ground and submit, and it took all her courage to deny it.

He was beautiful in wolf form, so fierce and graceful, his paws plodding with a lithe agility as he closed the distance between them. His coat was white, glistening like snow-flecked silver in the moonlight.

Jax scampered toward her, but the wolf growled in warning. The pup stopped and sat on his haunches, his head tilted to the side.

Trinity bared her teeth and growled back, lifting her chin. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, damn it. How had he found them so quickly? He stalked past her, walking between her and the pup, and she had to pace to try and keep the pup in her sight.

The white wolf stepped forward, his lips curled back. She planted her feet and tried to catch Jax’s eye, but the pup was focused on the guardian.

She stepped one way, he mirrored it. To get to the pup, she would have to go through him, and he was that pissed she didn’t like her chances.

There was some thrashing in the underbrush to her left, and Zane emerged from behind a tree. Her eyes narrowed. He carried their clothing, a dark bundle in his arms. He paused when he saw the standoff, then dumped most of the clothes on the ground.

The guardian held up Jax’s clothing and whistled to the pup. “Come on, Jax, you’re coming with me. We’ll let these two sort it out.”

She paced, a growl low in her throat as Jax shuddered, shifting from his wolf form back to human, then took the clothing Zane handed him. When he was dressed, he raised his arms and Zane lifted him, hoisting him onto his hip. Trinity bound to her left in a last-ditch effort as he walked back into the darkness, but the white wolf sprang in front of her, ears erect and forward. He snarled at her. She snarled back.

He started walking around her, the gold necklace glinting against the white-silver coat, getting closer to her until his shoulder brushed against her in a not-so-gentle shove. She lashed out with a paw, teeth bared. He circled behind her, and she pranced about to face him.

It took her a moment to realize he was herding her back toward the fallen log. It bent at an angle on the forest floor, and he was effectively backing her into a corner.

She snapped her teeth in warning. She wasn’t going to be backed into anything.

He stared at her for a moment, so close she could feel his breath across her lips. Then he dipped his head and sniffed.

For a moment she was stunned, then she did the same. Oh, he smelled heavenly. Pine, moss and that sexy, alluring musk that was him and him alone. He moved, his body brushing against hers, and she dropped to her haunches. He wasn’t going to bite her. He wasn’t going to attack her. She could still sense his anger, but he’d calmed down. She rose to her feet and crossed to the pile of clothing, shifting as she went.

She felt the shift in air currents behind her, and knew he did the same. He was naked, and so was she. She grabbed up her clothes and turned to face him.

He was...stunning. All muscle, he stood there in the moonlight, a perfectly formed warrior. And he was staring at her.

Lycans always shifted naked. They couldn’t control their clothes, and most of the time stripped before a shift to save on the cost of their wardrobe. The Woodland forest and tunnels were peppered with stashes of clothing for the use of any lycan who needed it. So the naked form was nothing new to her. She’d seen others, and others had seen her, but for the first time, she was vitally aware of her body, as well as another’s.

She stood tall, her shoulders back. The cool wind played with her hair, the tendrils caressing her bare shoulders, making her shiver at the teasing sensation. His gaze skittered over her, from the top of her head, halting briefly at her lips before scanning downward. His gaze paused at her breasts, and they grew heavy under his scrutiny, before he lazily toured over the rest of her body, the indent at her waist, the flare of her hips, and lower past the delta between her thighs and down her legs. It was a while before he raised his gaze to hers, and she sucked in her breath at the clear and visible hunger in his eyes.

She couldn’t ever remember anyone staring at her so openly, so intently, so freely displaying his desire. She stared back at him for a moment, taking in his broad shoulders, wide and deeply muscled chest, narrow hips, and the erection that told her his desire wasn’t her imagination. She swallowed. He was...big. Powerful. Strong. The ring on the chain glinted in the moonlight.

And he bore the brand of another woman.

She turned away from him and dragged on her jeans. He had no business staring at her like that, getting her all hot and hopeful, when he wore the ring of another. She dragged on her bra and snapped it quickly, then pulled her long-sleeve T-shirt on over her head. She scooped up her jacket and turned back to him, her composure in place.

Until she realized he was only now reaching for his pants. The moonlight played over the muscular curve of his butt, and he eyed her closely as he slipped one foot into his pants, then the other. He slid the pants up over his legs, never once looking away from her. She swallowed. How the hell did a guy make getting dressed so damn sexy? It was like watching a stripper in reverse, yet just as provocative.

She slid her arms into her jacket, shrugging it up over her shoulders. She was about to lift her hair free from the collar, but suddenly he was there beside her, his large hand sliding to cup the back of her head, lifting her tresses free of the garment.

He watched the dark curls tumble down her back, and slid his fingers beneath a tendril of hair, rubbing it between his fingers. For a moment he was so focused, so intent on the feel of the hair between his fingertips. Then his gaze shifted to hers, and it was almost a shock when her gaze met his, so close was his face, so blatant was his arousal. He twisted the hair around his fist and gently tugged her closer.