Chapter One
Keith’s alpha rocked back in his chair and watched the harried-looking man and his young daughter walk out the back door of the bar. Then he cast a weary glance at Keith. “It’s different now. Since you left, I mean. Shit like this happens all the time.”
He’d gathered as much, but hearing Gavin say it somehow made the situation more real, more desperate. “Maybe we shouldn’t have gone out into the world. Humans are a lot more cruel than we are.”
Gavin snorted and let his chair legs hit the floor with a thump. “I wish I could blame it on that. If the alphas were doing their jobs, it wouldn’t matter.” He reached out for his beer and drew a hand through his graying hair. “But they’re not just letting too much slide. They’re abusing the power.”
Keith turned a chair around and sank into it, folding his arms across the back. “Maybe the alphas have been corrupted by the human way. Take what you want and terrify anyone who tries to stop you.”
His alpha just shrugged. “What’s done is done. It’s up to the Lorekeepers now, unless we want to go out, guns blazing, and take over the world.” A tiny smile curled the edge of his mouth. “Sammie tells me I’m too old for that shit. And she’s right. War is for young men.”
War isn’t for anyone. Keith lifted a hand to rub at his chin, the rough stubble under his fingers reminding him he needed to shave. “Then I guess I’m not young anymore, because five years of it made me pretty damn tired.”
Gavin finished his beer and flashed him a knowing look. “Does that mean you’re going to stick around for a while? Maybe settle down?”
Maybe find a woman? Gavin didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. Not when Keith had heard some variation on the refrain a hundred times. The past is past, or Kelly wouldn’t want you to be alone, or the more damning, You have a duty as a dominant.
That last one was what had finally driven him overseas, driven him to spend five years as a soldier in the battle between werewolves and wizards, where his only duty was fighting. He did have a duty as a dominant werewolf, one to guide and shelter and teach. A duty to protect. A duty that comes with too many damn strings.
“Hey, forget I said anything.” Gavin didn’t look the least bit sorry as he returned Keith’s steady gaze. “I don’t make people do things they don’t want to do, remember?”
“Yeah. I know.” Keith changed the subject. “That guy and his kid going to stay in the motel?”
He nodded. “I’ve granted them sanctuary until they can find a safe place to relocate. They can’t go back to Coeur d’Alene, not while that bastard alpha’s still in charge over there.” Gavin tapped his chin. “Who do we know up in British Columbia?”
“Manuel. We should send them to Manuel.” The voice came from the doorway to the back office, and it brought Keith to his feet in an instinctive gesture of respect. Though tall and extremely fit, the woman who stood there might not have seemed intimidating to the mundane eye, but her power swept through the room like a warm breeze and raised the hair on the back of his neck.
Samantha Hamilton walked in, her eyes focused on her husband alone. There were times when even being in the same room as the alpha pair made Keith feel vaguely voyeuristic, and this was one of them. Sam crossed the floor, a walkie-talkie in one hand, and the power that flowed with her found a focus, an answering echo in Gavin. For a brief moment, he could almost feel their emotions, taste the depth of their love in the energy that sparked between them.
Gavin frowned. “Is something wrong?”
Distracted by the magic, Keith hadn’t noticed the expression on Sam’s face. She looked worried, tense. A bad sign for a woman as hard as nails and afraid of next to nothing. She thumped the walkie down on the table and hooked a chair with her foot. “Yeah. Just got a call. Two kids left Helena on their way here, and Alan Matthews is apparently pissed enough at losing his newest girl that he’s sent men after them. Into our territory.”
Her husband bristled as he rose. “He wouldn’t.” It was a blatant challenge, one Keith knew Gavin couldn’t let slide. “Of course he would. Impertinent idiot.” He turned sharp blue eyes toward Keith. “Feel up to it?”
Of all the duties expected of him, this was the only one he felt capable of handling anymore. Keith checked both of his pistols before snapping them into their holsters. He nodded shortly as he shrugged into his shoulder rig. “Always. How far out do you think the kids are?”
Sam slid the walkie-talkie across the table to him. “They should have been here by now. They had a head start, and Justine said Alan didn’t realize they’d slipped out. The girl’s newly changed, one of Alan’s special picks.” Her lips twisted into a disgusted snarl, one Keith had to fight not to echo. “The boy’s one of Alan’s little whipping boys. No one thought he’d have the guts to try to get her out, I guess, even though she’s his friend. But he’s not strong enough to protect himself or her.”
“Get them here, Keith.” Gavin’s words were soft, but an unmistakable order. “Do what you have to do.”
***
For the seventh time in as many minutes, Abigail Adler checked her cell phone’s display. “Still no service.”
“I told you.” Dylan grunted as he tried to wrestle the blown tire off his car. “I don’t think you can use cell phones up here. Even if you got reception, the magic they use to keep humans out would screw it all up.” He spoke calmly, but the tension in his voice provoked a reaction she didn’t understand.
Abby took a deep breath and distracted herself by counting the lug nuts lying in the upturned hubcap. Finally, when she had her frustration under control, she spoke again. “Does anyone know where we are?” Do you know, Dylan? Please say yes.
The tension grew worse, prickling tangibly against her skin. “I told someone we were coming, but I didn’t exactly have time to call ahead and make hotel reservations, Abby.”
“I know.” She closed her eyes and leaned against the side of the car. “I know this wasn’t easy for you.” He’d put his life on the line to get her out of Helena, defying his alpha. It was something she could still barely wrap her brain around. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” he responded, his voice almost harsh. “It’s my damn fault you’re in this situation. My fault you’re—” He wrenched the tire free and sent it skittering back down the road in a show of temper and inhuman strength that would have shocked her a few weeks ago. “Damn it, I should have protected you before it happened.”
She closed her eyes again and tried to calm her pounding heart. “It’s not your fault.” He couldn’t have helped what happened. He couldn’t have stopped it.
Only a month earlier, Abby had lived a quiet life. She’d had work and family and friends, and she’d known nothing of Dylan’s secret. In the years they’d been friends, she’d known him as a funny, sensitive, compassionate man.
She hadn’t known Dylan Gennaro was a werewolf.
She’d met Alan Matthews one night at a restaurant. Dylan had gone out with Abby and a group of friends, and Alan had come over to the table. He was tall, blond and gorgeous, and she’d been mildly flattered by the attention he’d shown her that evening. Only Dylan’s obvious discomfort had kept her from accepting the date he offered.
Then, two nights later, something attacked her in the parking lot outside her apartment building, and her world exploded.
She wanted to scream at the injustice of it. Instead, she helped Dylan roll the spare tire into place and lift it onto the axle. “It’s not your fault,” she repeated. She touched his shoulder lightly.
He stiffened under her touch, and she knew he was fighting not to shrug her hand away. He’d been drowning in guilt for weeks now, choking himself with it as he struggled to help her adapt to the life that had been thrust upon her.
The hardest part had been watching his reactions change, as if some instinct that had lain dormant while she was nothing but human had shoved its way to the surface. He acted antsy whenever she got too close, and withdrew when she touched him. Their easy, open friendship was gone.
Dylan focused on the spare tire and said nothing until he had it fixed into place. The line of his jaw tightened as he took a breath. “Hand me the lug nuts?”
She wiped her palms on her jeans and gathered them with both hands. “Have you ever been to Red Rock before?”
“No.” The word came out short and rough. “Alan would have killed me. Even talking about Gavin Hamilton is treason, as far as he’s concerned.”
She handed him the first lug nut. “Because Hamilton takes people in?”
“Yeah. Because he’s fighting for the old ways.”
He’d tried to explain it to her before, but it hadn’t made much sense. She opened her mouth to question him, but a faint noise tickled her ears. A car or a truck was somewhere down the road and coming closer. “Dylan—”
He was already on his feet. “Do you know how to use a gun?”
“No.” The thought that Dylan did shocked her. “I-I can try.”
Dylan strode around the side of the car and reached through the passenger window to open his glove compartment. He pulled out a small, compact gun, and the ease with which he handled it alarmed her even more. “This is the safety.” He showed her how to switch it off. “If someone gets close to you, point and squeeze the trigger. I’m going to deal with whoever’s in that car, and you’re going to run. If anyone comes after you, do your best to shoot them.”
Something inside her balked at running, wanted to stand and fight, though she didn’t know how. “What about you?” she demanded, her teeth nearly chattering despite the warm evening air.
He didn’t say anything, but the bleak look in his eyes made words unnecessary. Dylan didn’t expect to survive the confrontation. He recognized her sudden understanding and turned away, his gaze going to the road behind them. “I mean it, Abby. You run. The longer you can stay away from them, the better the chances someone’ll come from town and find you.”