Broken

Frustration

I GAVE ZOE A TEN-SECOND HEAD START WHILE I CHECKED for Clay, then tore after her. I was an above-average runner, as wolf and human, and I started to close the gap right away. She zagged off the path into the bush, dodging trees and ducking under branches with a gymnast’s grace.

Clay stayed on the path, out of sight, racing ahead to cut Zoe off if she got away from me. I wove through the forest, getting close enough to be spattered with clods of dirt thrown up by her boots.

She didn’t trip or falter once. In the woods, I fell behind. My belly made sharp turns and twists near-impossible.

A car horn blared, and my ears shot forward. The rumble of tires, the stench of exhaust, the faint glow of streetlights. Damn! Another hundred feet and we’d be out of the park. I skidded to a halt, threw back my head and howled. Before the last note left my throat, Clay’s answering cry came from southwest…and Zoe was heading due south. He’d never cut her off in time.

I roared back into pursuit, scanning the darkness as I ran. Zoe’s T-shirt bobbed to my left, but I already knew she was there. What I wanted was-There, just southeast of us, an open patch.

I flew forward on a southwest angle, coming up to the right of her. Like anything fleeing a predator, she instinctively turned away from me and headed southeast. When she hit the edge of the clearing, I hunkered down, running as fast as I could, counting off the paces between us and then…airborne.

I hit Zoe between the shoulder blades. She tripped, and as she fell, she twisted so we ended face-to-face, me atop her.

Zoe looked up and met my eyes. Hers widened, surprised and…delighted. A throaty laugh.

“It is you, isn’t it?” She stroked the ruff on my neck. I growled, but she only smiled. “That hair is unmistakable. I don’t know which is more beautiful-the woman or the wolf.” Her eyes glinted. “Equally deadly either way, I’ll bet.”

She buried her fingers in my fur. I snapped. She laughed.

“Tetchy. You prefer the chase to the catch, don’t you?” A wicked grin. “We can have another go. You’ve won this round, so I’ll give you your forfeit-tell you what I know about the letter. But if you’d rather play some more before we get down to business, I’m game.”

I lifted my head to look for Clay. Zoe brushed her fingertips along the fur at my throat. I snapped again.

“Come now, I’m only curious. I’ve never touched a werewolf. The only two I’ve met weren’t the sort I cared to talk to, much less touch.”

She leaned back for a better look. “A female werewolf. There can’t be many of you around. Shame really. Women make the better predators, I’ve always said. Or certainly the more interesting ones.”

She continued to talk. Being unable to speak gave me a good excuse for not participating in the conversation. Zoe didn’t seem to mind, just lay there on her back, pinned by a wolf, chatting as calmly as if we were back in Miller’s, having a beer.

About ten minutes after my takedown, the bushes rustled. Clay stepped through, Changed into human form and dressed in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt. Clothesline pickings.

“Got you some clothes, darling,” he said. “Should fit, but probably not well.”

He laid them just outside a thicket where I could Change. At the sound of his voice, Zoe had started. Then she looked over at him, and her eyes narrowed. Turning back to me, she said, “I think we can keep this between ourselves, don’t you?”

Clay put his foot on Zoe’s sternum. I backed off her and loped to the thicket to Change.

“Thank God,” Zoe said when I returned. “He hasn’t stopped talking since you left.”

She glared up at Clay, who stood exactly as I’d left him, his mouth shut, as it likely had been the whole time I’d been gone.

“You can get off me now,” she said.

He lifted his foot and walked over to me, hand brushing mine. “I’ll scout, make sure we don’t have any unexpected guests. You need me, just shout.”

“I will.”

Clay glanced back at Zoe, then at me. “Have fun, darling.”

“Dah-lin’?” Zoe mimicked as Clay walked away. She shuddered. “Please don’t tell me that’s daddy wolf.”

“Don’t tell her then,” Clay said without turning. “None of her business.”

Zoe made a face as she brushed herself off. “Just brimming with southern charm, isn’t he? You could do so much better.” Her gaze met mine and she stretched again. “No? Why don’t we play a little more chase-and-pounce, and see if I can’t change your mind?”

“If we play chase-and-pounce again, you’re not going to like how it ends. When a werewolf chases, the wolf expects a kill. One frustrated hunt it can handle. Not two.”

“Unless the prey can’t be killed.”

“The predator can sure as hell try.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Touché. As tempting as a chase would be, it clearly won’t arouse the kind of frustration I’d care to relieve. I’ll surrender my forfeit, then. Tell me more about this letter, and I’ll see what I can remember.”

So I did, leaving out how we got the letter, how we opened the portal, how we were still in possession of the letter, and focusing instead on the results and what little information we’d gleaned about it.

After I finished, she leaned back and closed her eyes. “The From Hell letter? I know I should remember more but…” She looked at me and shook her head. “Remembering a job I did eighty years ago is no different than asking a hundred-year-old human to remember a work assignment he undertook at twenty. The letter was historically significant, yes, but the circumstances surrounding the theft were obviously mundane enough that I can barely remember anything more than that I did do this job.”

“There was a spell cast on the original location. Do you remember that?”

She nodded. “A spell to keep the letter-all the letters-from being stolen by any living being. Presumably someone on the police force was a sorcerer, and cast the spell to protect them. That’s why the buyer hired me.”

“This buyer…do you remember who it was?”

“Of course. He is-or was-a regular customer of mine.”

When she didn’t continue, I said, “Can you provide a name?”

She met my gaze. “I’d rather you did, and I can confirm or deny.”

“And I’d rather you-”

“His grandson continues to be a customer of mine, and I don’t babble about my clients, past or present, unless there is a very good reason. Granted, a zombie-spewing portal is indeed a good reason, but if you took that letter, as you claim, then you already know the grandson’s name.”

“Patrick Shanahan.”

She nodded. “The original purchaser was his grandfather, Theodore.”

“Did Shanahan commission the theft himself?”

“I presume so…”

“But you don’t remember.”

She shook her head.

“Do you remember whether your client wanted this letter specifically? Or just something from the Ripper files?”

“I believe any…no, maybe it was…” A sharp shake of her head. “Something snagged there, but it’s not coming free.”

When I glanced in Clay’s direction, she said, “You don’t need to call in the muscle to work me over.”

“That wasn’t-”

“If you want to call your mate over to get his opinion on my sincerity, go ahead, but I have no reason to block you. You’ve just informed me that my city has an open dimensional portal, leaking zombies. I’ve lived here all my life and have no intention of leaving, so I’d just as soon see this portal closed.”

“That may be so, but I doubt Toronto is about to be sucked into a dimensional portal, and these zombies aren’t after you.”

“That’s just because they haven’t run across me yet. Zombies don’t like vampires very much. Jealousy, I suppose-two kinds of undead, one immune to harm, the other dropping body parts with every sneeze. So I have no incentive to lie about this letter. Let me think about it overnight and I’m sure I’ll remember more.”

I didn’t bother asking about Shanahan. If she knew where he’d run to, she was more likely to tip him off than tell me where to find him.

I gave her my cell number.

“So I leave with a phone number,” she said. “Not bad, but it would be nice to have a name attached.”

When I didn’t respond, she laughed and patted my arm.

“No matter. A smaller challenge before the big one, and something to discuss next time.”

She squeezed my arm, shot a look at Clay, then sauntered into the night.

Clay rolled his eyes. “Vampires.”

Jeremy had struck out with Robert and Jaime too, leaving messages for both, but having heard nothing back.

“God, I hate running in place,” I said, stalking into our hotel room. “This is why we don’t have a treadmill. Energy expended and no destination reached. Frustrating.”

Clay walked up behind me and put his hands on my hips. “Almost as frustrating as hunting with no catch.”

“Or a catch that didn’t mind being hunted.”

He chuckled against my neck. “I thought you liked hunting willing prey.”

“Only one kind. Or, I should say, one specific instance of one kind.”

“Well, then, what if that one specific instance offered to compensate for your loss. It’s not too late to slip back to the park. Change, hunt and…” He nipped my earlobe. “Do as you wish.”

I pressed back, felt him hardening against me and shuddered. “The one problem with that scenario. I can’t do as I wish.”

His hands traveled under my shirt and up my sides.

“Or maybe we could try,” I said. “Just one more time. A change of position perhaps.” I bent forward and thrust back against him. “I know you like it face-to-face, but in an emergency…”

A soft growl. “In an emergency, yes, and if you really want to…”

I slid my pants down my hips and guided his hand between my legs. “Does it feel like I really want to?”

Another growl, harder this time, as his fingers slid into me.

“Maybe if I just…start. Play a bit,” he said. “That couldn’t hurt.”

“Couldn’t hurt at all.”

I reached behind me, undid his jeans and reached inside. As I held him and arched my hips back to meet him, I closed my eyes, imagined him sliding in…and stopping partway.

“Not going to work, is it?” I said.

“I can try, but-”

“Doesn’t matter.” I looked over my shoulder. “You can try stopping, but once we start, I’m going to do my damnedest to get the rest of it.”

He chuckled. “How about we revert to plan A? A jog back to the park, a private hunt, we Change back and you take your forfeit in another way.”

“Once we Change, it’s only going to get worse. The human side might be able to argue logic, but the wolf knows exactly what she wants. Take me for a run tonight, and it’s not rabbits I’m going to want to hunt.”

A growling laugh. “Funny, that’s what I was thinking earlier, watching you run ahead of me. Had a helluva time remembering you were chasing someone, not running away to tease me.”

I leaned over the bed, one hand down to hold myself up, the other reaching between my legs. I found him and tugged him to me. He tensed.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m being good. Just…teasing.”

He let out a low growl as I stroked him, still prodding against me.

“Teasing who?” he said. “You or me?”

I grinned. “Both. That’s the best kind.”

He shifted forward, pushing another half-inch. My eyelids fluttered, and I pushed back. Just another-

“Better stop,” he growled.

I slid my hand up his shaft, fixing a stopper for myself, and stroked him from there, letting him thrust just that inch or so, barely parting me, the teasing so exquisite that I had to dig my fingers into the bed to keep from losing my balance.

When it was too much, and I was ready to just let my hand “accidentally” slip off him and let him slip into me, I arched forward onto the balls of my feet, leaning farther over the bed, and slid his shaft down lengthwise along me. Then I held him there, tight against me, and let him thrust.

Didn’t take more than a few minutes. Then I slid face-first onto the bed, rolling onto my side as my belly touched down. He crawled in behind me, pressing up against my back, breath tickling the back of my head.

“Getting more inventive,” he murmured.

I chuckled. “By the time this baby comes, we’ll have figured out all the tricks.”

Too lazy to move, I pulled down a pillow, tucked it under my head and closed my eyes. Within minutes, I was asleep.

The next morning we headed straight to the airport to pick up Antonio and Nick, the two remaining members of the Pack.

At five, the Pack was at its lowest recorded size. Changing that wasn’t as easy as it might seem. In the past, Packs grew primarily through procreation, with werewolves fathering babies and taking the sons, the gender that carried the werewolf gene. In a modern Pack, with modern sensibilities and a modern Alpha, taking children from their mothers wouldn’t happen. Under Jeremy’s rule, Pack wolves had two options: surrogacy-and take the child regardless of gender-or joint-custody arrangements with the mother, since by the time a boy had his first Change, he was college-aged and old enough to keep that part of his life from his mother.

The problem was that, until Clay and me, no one in the Pack had showed any inclination to procreate. Antonio was content with one son-Nick-as Jeremy was with Clay. Maybe someday Logan or Peter would have had children, but they were gone now, killed in a mutt uprising five years ago. As for Nick, no one expected him to embrace fatherhood anytime soon, if ever. Although Clay and I were now doing our part, neither of us had any interest in replenishing the ranks by ourselves.

The other method of increasing Pack ranks was assimilation-taking in mutts who wished to join after they proved themselves capable of following Pack Law. Again, this worked far better under previous Alphas. Back in the days when Pack wolves hunted mutts for sport, there’d been no shortage of mutts clamoring for membership.

Under Jeremy, though, the Pack only harassed man-eaters, who certainly didn’t qualify for Pack membership without serious rehabilitation. Most mutts who’ve developed a taste for hunting humans have no interest in being “fixed.”

So far, the only candidates had proven disappointing: a closet man-eater hoping to escape detection by hiding in our ranks, one randy SOB hoping that the Pack’s communal attitudes extended to communal sex privileges with the sole female werewolf, and a problem gambler hoping the wealthy Pack families would buy his loyalty by paying off his creditors.

Marsten finally seemed serious about getting off the fence and joining the Pack. So our numbers were likely to increase by one. Yet until then, we didn’t consider him full Pack, which is why no one had suggested calling him to Toronto with Antonio and Nick.

So, for now, we were five.

I was the first to spot Nick and Antonio, and I hurried over as fast as I could waddle. Bear hugs, kisses and backslaps ensued, and I’m sure anyone watching would’ve thought we hadn’t seen each another in years, instead of just a couple of weeks.

Antonio had been Jeremy’s best friend since childhood. Nick and Clay were also lifelong friends. Both Sorrentinos were dark-haired and dark-eyed. Nick was a half-head taller than his father, with the polished good looks of someone who doesn’t think hairstylists, fashion magazines and skin cream are only for women, but who draws the line at manicures and facials.

Normally, Nick would have swept me off my feet and kissed me in a way that wasn’t exactly fraternal. Today, though, he stopped short, and settled for a hug and a smack on the lips.

“Am I getting too big to pick up?” I said.

He smiled. “No, I’m just being careful what I do to a pregnant lady in public.” He leaned down to my ear. “Wait until later, and I’ll make up for it.”

“I heard that,” Clay said.

Nick grinned. “Of course you did. And you can see it too, if you want. Maybe learn something.”

Clay made a comment, and Nick turned to answer, but his gaze snagged on my stomach. A look passed through his eyes as if he still wasn’t quite sure what it was, how it got there or, most important, what it would mean.

I grabbed Nick’s hand and squeezed it. Our eyes met, and I smiled. He leaned down to kiss me again. I put my hands on his stubble-covered cheeks.

“Couldn’t find time to shave?” I teased.

“I’m growing a beard.” He tilted his head and posed. “What do you think?”

“Sexy. The gray adds a nice touch of sophistication.”

“Gray?” His hand shot to his cheek.

Behind me, Antonio laughed, then caught me up in a hug that did lift me off the ground. “You realize he’s going to spend the rest of the day in front of the mirror looking for that gray?”

“I think it’s sexy,” I said.

Nick turned to Clay.

“No,” Clay said. “You’re not borrowing my razor. You grew it, you get rid of it.”

“Troublemaker,” Antonio murmured to me.

He kissed my cheek, then leaned back for a better look. The shortest member of the Pack, a couple of inches under my five feet ten, Antonio was also still the brawniest and most powerful. He and Nick had passed themselves off as brothers for as long as I’d known them. Nick had been born when Antonio was a teen, so-combined with a werewolf’s slow aging, and Antonio’s zeal for healthy living-it had been decades since they could have passed for father and son.

“You look more beautiful every time I see you,” Antonio said. “Pregnancy suits you.”

I made a face. “I’m huge. Getting bigger by the hour.”

“You’re pregnant. You’re not supposed to be getting smaller.” One arm still around me, Antonio turned to the others. “So, I hear you have a little adventure for us.”