Jack had to bite his tongue to keep from agreeing outright. “While I appreciate the offer, I can’t say as I think that would be good for her. She needs to find someone who cares about her and will take care with her. Maybe if you could just let her down easy, she’d give someone else a chance. We’ve got some decent young men in the pack.”
The man’s dark eyes were inscrutable, but he nodded and promised, “First chance I get.”
Which could mean that afternoon or when Hazel turned thirty. Oliver had many talents, but verbose communication was not one of them. Of course, like all dominant wolves, the man had weaknesses, too -- weaknesses Jack knew how to exploit, considering he shared them. “Sooner would be better. It’s getting hard to keep her protected. I’ve already had to step on a few of the boys pretty hard to convince them to keep their hands to themselves.”
Oliver’s hands clenched into fists. “Don’t think she’d want me bringing it up in front of Ginny, but I’ll talk to her. First chance I get.”
Interesting. “Good. I’m headed over to deal with Dawson now. Would you mind escorting Ginny and Hazel back to town when you’re done? I’d feel better if they were tucked up with Lottie instead of out there on their own, until I know everything’s taken care of.”
“I’ll ride over as soon as my chores are done.”
He’d already gotten more words out of the man than he usually heard in a week. Jack nodded once and turned his horse around. “Thanks, Oliver.”
“You’re welcome.”
* * *
Dawson met him with a rifle and three strapping men who might have been a threat if they hadn’t all been morons. He spit over the railing of his porch and into the dirt near Jack’s horse. “Surprised to see you up and about so early, Owens.”
“Dawson.” Jack ignored the sign of disrespect and slid off his horse. The mare was well-trained, but even the calmest horse got edgy when werewolves started playing dominance games. And flat on my back is not where I need to be. “You’ve been busy.”
The man’s lecherous grin was chilling. “Could say the same about you, sir.” His tone made the term an insult.
Jack hadn’t even considered the fact that he was covered in Ginny’s scent. “I told you not to bother her again. I made it pretty clear there would be consequences.”
Dawson made a rude noise, and the men on the porch fidgeted nervously. “I’d ask what claim she has on your protection, but I guess you done answered that.”
“I guess I did.” Jack hooked his thumbs in his belt and let the power inside him off its leash to fill the space around him. “But even if that weren’t the case, every wolf in this territory is mine. That includes you and your thick skull, Dawson, which means I don’t particularly want to hurt you. Doesn’t mean I won’t, though.”
Dawson returned his look with a glare. “Ginny Howard runs around, making a big fuss about how she isn’t part of your pack. That she doesn’t belong to you. But here you are. Makes a man wonder, Owens, why in hell he’d want to bother toeing the line.”
“Virginia Howard minds her own business and doesn’t damage anyone else’s livelihood. That’s the line you need to start toeing.”
The three men flanking him lowered their eyes, but Dawson kept staring. “I don’t think I’m much in the mood. So you do what you’ve got to do, but make sure it doesn’t include telling me what I’ve got to.”
And there it was, the challenge he hadn’t wanted.
So much for words. He didn’t want to think too closely about the thrill of satisfaction that claimed him as he gathered the magic that made him the strongest -- that made him the alpha.
When he moved, it was too fast for Dawson to stop him. He cleared the space to the porch in three strides and had his fingers curled around Dawson’s rifle before the man had done more than raise it up. One hard jerk, and Jack curled his other hand in the man’s shirt and hauled him over the railing.
Dawson swung, a hard punch that clipped Jack on the jaw. From the corner of his eye, he saw the other three wolves back away, knowing instinctively they had no place in this fight.
Not that it turned out to be much of one. Dawson was plenty brave with a rifle and a gang, but one-on-one he couldn’t keep up with Jack. He kicked the gun out of the way before wrenching the man’s arm nearly out of his socket. One sharp kick to the back of the leg and Dawson hit the ground with Jack on his back, one knee positioned at the base of his spine.
Jack pulled Dawson’s arm behind him and leaned down. “Give me a compelling reason why I shouldn’t snap your spine right now and save myself a world of headaches later on.”
Dawson made a valiant effort to throw Jack off of him, but he couldn’t muster the leverage. “You don’t deserve to be alpha,” he muttered angrily. He snatched a knife from his belt and slashed it across Jack’s forearm.
It hurt like hell, but Jack didn’t release his grip. He grabbed Dawson’s wrist with his free hand and used the strength he usually kept so carefully in check. Bones gave way beneath his fingers with a grind and a sickening crunch. Dawson screamed a curse and jerked his injured wrist away. Then, insanely, the man began to laugh.
Jack’s blood chilled. “What?”
His laughter died with a wheeze. “You think those three idiots up there helped me cut the fence? You’re stupider than you look.” He snorted. “I sent the rest of them out to her place already to take care of things.”
With the blood pounding in his ears, he didn’t hear Dawson’s spine snap. A furious growl tore free from him as he rose to his feet, leaving the limp body on the ground as he shifted his gaze to the three men on the porch. “This is your only warning.”
None of them lifted their eyes, and all of them murmured their understanding.
Fury rode him hard, and it was impossible to get within five feet of his horse. He tore his clothing free instead and channeled that rage into the change. As soon as his paws hit the ground he launched himself in the direction of Ginny’s property and prayed.
Chapter Five
“Hazel, where are the rest of those .30-30s from the hall closet?” Ginny swore and worked the lever on her rifle, sparing Oliver a quick glance. “You’re bleeding.”
Oliver rose up on one knee as he stuck his rifle through a shattered pane of her front window and fired. “It’ll stop soon.”
“Here.” Hazel appeared around the corner with her arms full of boxes. “I think these are all of them --”
Oliver made it halfway across the floor and dragged Hazel down before Ginny could even speak. “Stay down,” he hissed. “Unless we’re covering you with fire, you keep your ass below window level, got it?”
The tension in the room twisted into something hot and feral as Hazel let out a low snarl. Her shallow, quick breaths were audible even over the gunfire from the front yard. For a moment, Ginny was afraid the girl was going to lose it then and there, in the middle of a firefight.
Hazel rolled away in the next instant, coming to her hands and knees a few feet from Oliver. “Ginny.” Her voice sounded high and frightened -- a lot more frightened than it had a few seconds ago. “Where can I go?”
“Get to the washroom in the back hall.” Ginny caught the boxes that Oliver kicked her way and tore one open with one hand. “Stay there until I come get you.”
The girl scurried away, and Ginny made a face at Oliver as she reloaded her rifle. “Nice, Ollie.”
His own chest heaved, and he growled at her as he made his way back to the window. “Cut me a little slack, Ginny? I’ve been shot.”
“Not a lot of time for slack, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
She could have sworn he smirked. “Again, shot.”
She blew her hair out of her eyes and peered out the window. “Only four left. Not bad.” We won’t wonder how many Jack ran into over at Dawson’s, will we, Ginny? “Unless someone flanked the house and is about to bust through the back door.”
“Doubtful.” His dark eyes studied the front yard. “I think they planned on numbers and surprise.”
“And catching me and Jack with our pants down.”
He made a small, choked noise. “I wasn’t going to say that.”
“You were thinking it.” It was Ginny’s turn to growl. “What the hell are they waiting for?”
“Bet they’re almost dry.” He slid the barrel of his rifle slowly through the window. “Doubt they carry much extra ammunition when they’re going to f**k somebody up. Your average posse depends on brute force and numbers.”
Leave it to Oliver to get downright loquacious when talking about the strategy involved with successful vigilantism. “They can’t sit out there all day.”
“They won’t.” He sounded sure. “They’ll either come up with another plan, or they’ll bum rush us.”
The third option announced itself with a furious howl. A wolf barreled into one of the men, his powerful jaws closing on the back of the man’s neck. A furious surge of power roared through the house, leaving no doubt that the wolf who had joined the fight was the alpha.
And he was pissed.
God damn it. “Jack.” Ginny snatched up her revolvers and scrambled to her feet.
Oliver caught her arm. “If I let you go out there, Jack’ll skin me alive.”
Only the knowledge that he was trying to do what Jack wanted kept her from tearing his arm out of its socket to get away. “I like you, Ollie. Now turn me loose.”
“All right.” He did, only to yank his own revolvers out of their twin holsters. “But I’m going first.”
They made it out into the yard a moment before one of the remaining men fired at Jack. The wolf rolled out of the way just in time to avoid the bullet that dug into the ground an inch from his body.
Rage gripped Ginny, and she emptied both of her pistols into the man. Oliver yelled something, but she couldn’t understand him through the blood rushing in her ears. More gunfire exploded around her, and a hard hand wrapped around her arm like a vise.