Fur and a Badge
Author: Caitlin Ricci; A. J. Marcus
Date: 2017-04-28T07:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Action; Sex Library; Adventure; Interracial; Gay; Urban Fantasy; Erotic Romance; Adult; GLBT; law enforcement; Werewolf; Paranormal; JeanneP
Description: Angel is nothing like his name implies. Since he was thirteen he's been in one of the toughest gangs in Denver, slowly rising through the ranks, and now he has the chance to become an enforcer. Along with his best friend, he's willing to take that plunge. But what he doesn't realize is that the deep dark secret in the gang is that every one of the enforcers is a werewolf. When he's thrown in with a feral, abused werewolf, and bitten, he doesn't recover well. He's left for dead by the people he thought were his family. Quintero is on the hunt for his brother, who was captured a year before. Fin
Publisher: eXtasy Books

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

About the Authors

Angel is nothing like his name implies. Since he was thirteen, he’s been in one of the toughest gangs in Denver, slowly rising through the ranks, and now he has the chance to become an enforcer. Along with his best friend, he’s willing to take that plunge. But what he doesn’t realize is that the deep dark secret in the gang is that every one of the enforcers is a werewolf. When he’s thrown in with a feral abused werewolf and bitten, he doesn’t recover well. He’s left for dead by the people he thought were his family.

Quintero is on the hunt for his brother, who disappeared the previous year. Finding Angel half dead and in the middle of his change is the closest he’s ever come to finding his brother. Angel has all the information this werewolf needs, but Quintero has to help him through the change first. With Angel barely alive and the trail rapidly growing cold, Quintero is running out of time to save his brother before the gang destroys him for good.

The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Fur and a Badge

Copyright © 2017 Caitlin Ricci and A.J. Marcus

ISBN: 978-1-4874-1321-7

Cover art by Angela Waters

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

Published by eXtasy Books Inc or

Devine Destinies, an imprint of eXtasy Books Inc

Look for us online at:

www.eXtasybooks.com or www.devinedestinies.com

Fur and a Badge

To Protect and Serve Book 1

By

Caitlin Ricci and A.J. Marcus

Chapter One

Angel Lucero took a drink of his beer and laughed as his best friend, Dustin, did a handstand beside him. Dustin was just as drunk as Angel and just as happy. Around them, the rest of the gang was drinking heavily too. A football game blared on the big TV that dominated the far wall. Angel liked football well enough, but he was too drunk to care who was winning. The Currs were having a rare good day. For once, money had been decent, the cops had stayed away from them, and none of them were in jail. He’d only gotten out of lockup five weeks earlier. The cops couldn’t get a drug charge to stick, and he’d been let go after they’d held him for as long as they could. He’d been lucky that time—even though he’d slipped, fallen, and gotten caught, Dustin was the one carrying the goods that night, and Dustin had outrun the cops. They never blamed each other when things like that happened. As long as the Currs made money from the one with the drugs getting away, that was all that mattered. The cops rarely got any charges to stick, particularly without evidence. The Currs were good at keeping evidence out of their hands.

Their head enforcer, Mikhail, put his beer down and turned to them. “Angel, Dustin, come with me.” Dustin toppled over, and they quickly followed. Being called to talk privately with Mikhail wasn’t that unusual, but Angel was curious, especially when Mikhail’s girlfriend, Nadia, got up to accompany them, but Mikhail waved her away.

“Where are we going?” Angel asked.

Dustin was having trouble walking straight, so Angel grabbed his arm to keep him upright. Even with years of partying with the Currs under their belt, Dustin was still a lightweight when it came to drinking or drugs. Angel was used to giving him a shoulder to lean on.

“You’ll see.” Mikhail flashed them a dangerous smile and took them to the back of the house, where a black van was waiting for them. “Get in. We’re going for a ride.”

While that wasn’t unusual either, Angel was starting to get a little worried. A strange feeling gnawed at his gut. He didn’t say anything, though. He trusted Mikhail and the rest of the gang. Since Angel had been thirteen, they had been more his family than any of his relatives had ever been. They’d been there for him, cared for him, made his life better. He pushed Dustin into the van ahead of him and took a seat while Mikhail got behind the wheel.

Mikhail started up the van as soon as they were settled. He stayed strangely quiet, making the odd unease deep inside Angel grow worse.

“Are we going to a job?” Angel doubted that was the answer, since Mikhail wouldn’t take just them, and besides, he wouldn’t take someone as drunk as they were. Drunk men made mistakes, and the Currs stayed ahead of the cops and rival gangs by avoiding mistakes. There had to be a different answer, but even as long as he’d been with the gang, he couldn’t figure out what was happening. He suddenly wished he wasn’t so drunk so that maybe he might be able to follow what was happening better.

Mikhail laughed, the dark edge to the sound made him more nervous. “Relax. You two are going to get exactly what you’ve been wanting. Don’t worry.”

Angel didn’t really know what Mikhail would have thought they would want, but he was curious enough to stop asking questions and wait to see where things were going. Maybe they were going to get more beer or some really good weed. The idea of some well-cut coke was nice, or maybe a hot guy, but Mikhail wouldn’t be taking him to a guy. Mikhail was as indulgent with Angel’s sexuality as he was with the straight members of the gang. Angel’s muddled brain wandered around a bit, but he kept his mouth shut even as they left their familiar turf behind, traveling well outside of Denver.

Dustin fidgeted beside him, appearing to grow antsy as the alcohol seemed to be slipping out of his system. “Where are we going?”

He voiced the words Angel wanted to but was too scared to. Since they were leaving their normal part of town behind, Angel was out of his element and doing his best to hide the fear creeping up on him. Sure, the Currs ruled most of Denver, but outside of their territory, with just him, Dustin and Mikhail, things might get rough if they were caught either by the police or a rival gang. Lately, the Currs had been pushing out, taking territory from the other gangs one block at a time. The other gangs were tense and ready to stop them at any opportunity. Mikhail might not be the head of the gang, but he was high enough in the ranks that he’d make a tempting target, and Angel didn’t see any way he and Dustin could defend themselves beyond the pistols they all carried. If there were too many of a rival gang, pistols wouldn’t do much.

“You two have one final test before you get to move up in the Currs. Pass this and you’ll become enforcers. That’s what you want, right?” Mikhail’s voice was mocking.

Of course, they wanted that. The position came with a bigger cut and more responsibilities. They’d wanted to be enforcers ever since they joined the gang.

Angel shared a look with Dustin. He nodded. Whatever this test was, he’d make sure to pass it. He couldn’t go to jail for drugs again. The next one might not be as easy to get out of. And he might not find another cop willing to trade sex for letting him get away.

“I’m in. Whatever it is, I’m going to do it,” Angel said. He was determined, and although this was a surprise to be asked to do this, whatever it was, tonight he was definitely going to give it his all. His gut tightened, but the Currs were his family. He’d do whatever Mikhail wanted, especially if it was going to help him advance in the gang.

“Me too. I want to be an enforcer too.” Dustin didn’t sound nearly as sure as Angel did. Maybe he was still a bit drunk, or maybe he was feeling more nervous. Whatever was going on with him, Angel hoped he figured it out quick. He could become an enforcer without Dustin there beside him, but he didn’t want to. They’d been best friends since they were thirteen and Dustin’s brother had brought them into the gang. They’d done everything together. It was only right that they would become enforcers at the same time, too. If they were together, it would be easier to get through things. Mikhail had said something a few months before about them working toward being enforcers—maybe Dustin was right and their time had come. Mikhail didn’t say anything as he drove south past the loop.

The quiet was as unnerving as the way the knot in Angel’s stomach kept growing. The longer they were without beer, the clearer his head became, and the more his fear increased. He closed his eyes and told himself if he didn’t get himself quieted down, he was going to throw up, and that wouldn’t be cool if Mikhail was taking them to somewhere they would be tested for enforcership. He had to be strong. He was a Curr, and Currs were strong.

Mikhail stopped the van in Castle Rock, just outside of a faded white barn. Most of the paint was peeling off, revealing rotting wood. It looked eerie and strange, like some kind of haunted place. Angel had always thought Castle Rock was all new and shiny, but they’d gone past the outlet mall as they got off the freeway, so there wasn’t anywhere else they could be. He wondered if there was a supplier there they were going to hit. If they took out the supplier of a rival gang, that would be a good thing, particularly if they could get a bunch of good drugs they could sell.

“You two, get out,” Mikhail ordered.

Angel shared a look with Dustin. They weren’t anywhere the gang had ever been before and, as long as he’d lived in Colorado, this was his first time even being close to a barn. He was a city boy, and that meant no barns, horses, or whatever else was here. But when he got out of the van, he didn’t see anything around them for miles. Not even lights from a house. It was like this barn had been abandoned years before and no one had bothered to tear it down.

“Hey, Mikhail? What are we doing here, man?” Angel called out. He was starting to get seriously creeped out. The butterflies in his stomach were fluttering like crazy. Something was very wrong, but he had to be strong. He was going to be an enforcer after he did whatever Mikhail wanted them to do. He couldn’t be an enforcer and be weak.

“You both really need to stop asking such stupid questions. Now, if you want to become enforcers and move up in the Currs and all that good trash, then go into the barn. I’ll be right in behind you.”

Dustin leaned in close to Angel. “What the idiot is going on here?”

Angel didn’t have the slightest idea, but he didn’t want to let Mikhail down. He pulled his piece from the back of his pants and gestured for Dustin to do the same. The heavy metal in his hand made him feel stronger as they walked to the barn. He always felt more powerful when he had a gun in his hand.

The door creaked as he opened it. The sound sent shivers through him and he instantly wished there was another way into the barn. Anyone who was waiting for them would be alerted to their presence. The place smelled funny, like something had died there and was rotting, like the time he’d found the dead dog near Cherry Creek. He wished there was some light to see by, but the barn was pitch black. He was surprised Mikhail hadn’t left the van headlights on or something. He started to turn around when the door slammed shut behind them. Something clanged loudly.

“Hey? Mikhail? There’s no lights in here!” Dustin called out. He tried the door, but it only rattled.

They were locked in.

The ball of fear in Angel’s gut expanded. He threw himself against the door, feeling trapped. Something was very wrong.

“Mikhail! Cut it out, man! This isn’t funny!” Dustin started screaming.

A soft growl came from behind them. Angel tried to peer through the darkness. There were parts of the roof missing, and moonlight and city glow were coming through. It wasn’t much, but he could make out something moving in front of them. Something big, something that smelled like death and rotting meat, and something that was currently growling at them.

“Dustin! Cut it out!” he hissed and grabbed his best friend’s arm with his free hand as he pointed his pistol. He spun Dustin around so that they were both facing the thing. Whatever it was.

“Is that... ? Incredible, are we in here with a werewolf?” Dustin gasped.

Angel backed up fast against the door. He’d known werewolves were real. Everyone did. But he’d never actually met one before. Or, not really met one actually—this was so much worse than meeting. Dustin spun and began banging on the door as hard as he could.

Angel stood frozen, as the monster came closer. He knew his gun was useless. He was facing a werewolf, and he didn’t have silver bullets. There was nothing he could do. He didn’t even realize the werewolf had moved until hot pain sliced through his calf. He slammed his pistol down hard, trying to dislodge the monster, but as his blow landed, his leg crunched between the beast’s jaws.

He screamed and fell, clutching his broken leg.

Dustin fired his gun. The muzzle flashes illuminated the barn and the hulking monster who straddled Angel’s legs. There was no reaction from the beast. It didn’t even flinch as the bullets hit it. There wasn’t any other sound than the wet thud, but the werewolf was unfazed by the attack.

“Idiot. Get out of here.” He pushed at Dustin’s legs, hoping he’d be able to get away. But they’d tried the one door they knew of, and there was no getting out that way. It was too dark to see into the shadows to tell if there was another option.

“An—” Dustin’s scream came out in a gurgle of blood and crunch of bone as he slumped down beside him.

“Dustin?” Angel shook him. “Hey, man, wake up. Come on. No, don’t do this. Get up.”

Angel turned sharply as hot breath caressed the side of his face. “No... please... ” The werewolf didn’t seem to hear his pleas, or he simply didn’t care. He grabbed Angel’s neck, silencing his cries and cutting off his breath just as quickly as he’d done to Dustin.

Chapter Two

Denver Police Officer Quintero Marquez followed the faint scent of human blood through the rolling plains south of Denver. The scent had been barely noticeable back on 25, but once he’d pulled into Castle Rock he’d been able to get a much better idea of where he was headed. He took out his phone to text his captain.

Got a scent. I’ll be in to work after I check it out.

While his boss was human, he knew better than to question a werewolf’s sense of smell. He’d never given Quintero any hassle about it, anyway. It probably helped that Quintero was rarely wrong about a scent, and he was definitely right that day. It took a lot of blood to catch a werewolf’s attention, and wherever this trail led, Quintero was sure he’d find a body at the end of it. He was sick of finding dead people, but he was a cop, and sometimes that was all just part of the job.

It was easier to track a scent while he was shifted, but he didn’t want to spend the time to change, shift, and then repeat the process when he came back. Plus, he’d learned the hard way that if he was lucky enough to find someone still alive and just badly hurt, that they didn’t usually like a wolf coming up to them, and a naked man was even less welcome. Humans had such complicated social upbringings, and they weren’t nearly as easy to understand as werewolves were.

On foot, he headed away from the outlet mall that stood against the highway. He went west, toward the mountains, and after a couple of miles, crossed a large pasture whose fence had long since fallen down. It looked like the only animals who had enjoyed the pasture in the last decade were the dozens of prairie dogs that stared at him as he walked past. They squeaked at him as if they weren’t sure what to make of him. Maybe they couldn’t figure out whether he was a man or a wolf. He shared their confusion. Most of the time he didn’t know himself. Being a werewolf was a very complicated thing, and even werewolves debated it among themselves.

At the edge of the pasture, he crouched down between two sections of rusted, twisted barbed wire. The pasture had belonged to a ranch once, as much of the Colorado plains had at one point or another. There were still faint scent traces of the cattle who had had lived there before. He prowled past the field and through a dry creek before picking up speed. The blood scent grew stronger the closer he came to the barn. It looked deserted, but he knew that didn’t really mean anything, not in his line of work. He’d lost count of the number of deserted buildings that held things he’d rather not recall.

Quintero hung back, listening carefully to the sounds around him and anything coming from the barn before he came closer. He hugged the weathered building and breathed deeply. Whatever bloody person was in there, they were still alive. The sound of their ragged breathing carried easily through the dilapidated building. The scent of their blood was fresh, but there was also a mixture of old blood, as well. It took Quintero a moment to realize that there were two people in there, one still alive, at least for now, and one who had died sometime the night before. He’d have to get a lot closer to the body to be able to narrow down a timeline.

He was about to go in when another smell caught him by surprise. It was so familiar that he’d missed it simply because he was always smelling it. “Tom... ” Quintero shook his head as he pushed the barn door open and stepped into the darkness. His twin had been there, probably for weeks. He’d been missing for nearly a year, and Quintero tried hard not to see the evidence of his captivity all around him. There was blood, scattered bones, and the smell of fear was an acrid cloud around him.

Then he spotted the humans. They were both barely more than boys. The one alive looked up at him with eyes wide with fear. Quintero tried to tell him that things would be okay now, but the words came out slurred. His teeth were too big for his mouth. He reached up and felt his fangs.

With a deep breath, he got himself under control. He couldn’t frighten this human. The human needed his help. This was the last place Tom had been kept. He could tell that easily enough. And that made this human his best lead.

He pulled out his phone and texted his captain the address. “You’re okay now. Help is coming,” he told the young man.

“Monster... There was a monster... ”His voice was a harsh whisper, like his throat was sore from screaming. His long black hair hung lank over his face, giving him a wild, desperate look.

Quintero pursed his lips. He didn’t appreciate his kind being called that, but maybe from the boy’s perspective that’s all they were. “Try not to talk.” It was a wonder he was still alive. The boy leaned forward, and blood so dark it was almost black seeped from his lips and onto his thin goatee.

Quintero knelt down for a better look. It wasn’t blood. Not really, anyway. “Incredible. Hold still.” If he was already shedding his human self, they were in big trouble. He texted his captain to call back the ambulance. They couldn’t do anything for him. Only a werewolf could help another through their change. Quintero lifted him into his arms, and was surprised by the amount of muscle the young man actually had. He’d thought the guy would be light, but he struggled a little under his weight.

He carried him out of the barn and laid him down on the brittle grass outside. The prairie dogs chirped at them, coming closer to investigate. Quintero ignored them, instead focusing on the pale face of the young man beside him. The young man had passed out while they’d moved from the barn. He took the guy’s hand. There was nothing else he could do in that moment. No human medicine could cure him, not this late in the change. Humans had developed vaccines for werewolf bites, but they had to be injected within minutes of the bite, an hour at the longest to be effective. This guy was well beyond hope. He’d be a werewolf by nightfall, if he made it that long. A lot of people didn’t survive their first change—that was why there weren’t more werewolves than humans. When the wolves had first come out to the humans, in World War Two in an effort to help defeat Hitler, they made it illegal to change a human without their permission.

The dead one had a tattoo on his shoulder, marking him as being part of the Curr gang. The living one still had his short sleeves intact, so Quintero couldn’t tell if he had a similar mark or not, but he had the rough appearance of a gang banger. The idea that the Currs might be werewolves bothered Quintero. It made them too powerful, too unpredictable. He’d never actually encountered one of the Currs before—he didn’t work in their part of the city. He sniffed the young man. The scents of multiple wolves clung to him. If he’d asked to be changed, why had they left him alone in the barn to endure his first transformation?

Quintero wouldn’t be going to work that day, not with the situation he had on his hands, but he did have somewhere he needed to be, somewhere the young man could be safe. He took out his phone and called his mother.

Chapter Three

Angel woke up freezing, despite the heavy blankets weighing him down. There was a woman beside him, gently caressing his face, and she smelled like green tea. He wasn’t sure why that mattered so much right then, but her smell was so overwhelming in that moment, it was all he could focus on. The smell of her tea and the warmth of her fingers against his cheek.

“Quin, he’s awake, come, quietly now, come be with him,” she called out to someone nearby. Her voice was soft and soothing, like the blankets he was under, like the smell of her tea and the pale yellow wall across from him.

She got up from the bed, and a heavier body replaced hers. A man who must have been Quin. He didn’t smell like tea at all. Instead, he was dirt and blood. Angel shrank back from the harshness of the scent.

“He doesn’t like me near him.” Quin frowned. His face was so rugged, the look made him almost scary. “Clearly. Look at his face.”

“Well, did you shower after you took the other one to the morgue? If not, that’s probably why. The poor thing. Quin, go shower, now. I can’t believe you. Don’t you remember how hard your own change was? You’re not so old that you wouldn’t remember that.”

The man was gone again, quickly replaced by the woman with the soft hands. “It’s okay now, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe here. Do you need anything?”

“Cold... ” Angel chattered out. He shivered. He couldn’t remember ever being so cold. Even when he’d been standing on a street corner during a blizzard waiting for a drug drop, he hadn’t been that cold. It didn’t feel like he was ever going to be warm.

“Of course.” She was gone in an instant and quickly back with even more blankets, smothering him with their weight and chasing away some of his cold.

He breathed deeply as he warmed up and felt more comfortable by the moment. It sounded like the woman had turned the heat on in the house as well. The warm air blew up around his face. It moved his hair and filtered under the blankets with him. It made the sheets against his skin shift, and he realized he didn’t have any clothes on. “Why am I naked?” Angel asked after a few moments.

“Your clothes got shredded in your first attempt at a shift. It’s instinct while you’re unconscious. It happens to everyone.” Her voice was soothing, but her words only caused him to panic.

“What?” He started to sit up and groaned. The chills racking his body got worse, and he curled into himself to fight off the cold. “Shift?” She wasn’t making any sense. He couldn’t be a werewolf. He just couldn’t. They had a cure for that. Surely if he’d been found in time, someone would’ve given him the cure.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but you’re here, this is our den. We’ll all be around to help you through this. I’m going to go make lunch for everyone now, but Quin will be around for you until I get back this afternoon. You’re safe here.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead, then she was gone. Angel would have thought he was alone, except that he could smell Quin nearby. He wasn’t in the same room, not yet at least, but somehow Angel could smell him as the sound of water running reached him. The bathroom must have been on the other side of the wall.

The door opened and Angel lifted his head. “Quin?”

“Quintero—only my mom calls me Quin,” he corrected. But he didn’t frown again. Not frowning kept his face on the handsome side of rugged.

Angel nodded, and even that slight motion made his head swim and the chills get worse. “Is it true? Am I a... ?” He couldn’t even say the word. He didn’t want to accept the idea that he might be something not human. There had to be some kind of mistake. If he wasn’t human, would the Currs cast him out? But it had been Mikhail who’d locked him in the barn, unless it was some kind of trap set by a rival gang and they’d all walked right into it.

“You are. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t. It’s generally what happens when someone gets bitten, but not everyone survives the change. You’re young, though, and you’re through the worst of it, so there’s hope. When you’re feeling stronger, I’ve got a lot of questions for you.”

Angel tried to sit up, but he wasn’t strong enough to manage it and quickly flopped back down onto the bed. He felt like he’d been on a three day high and still couldn’t see straight. He wondered how long it would take for his head to clear and for him to feel normal, if that was ever going to happen again. “Incredible. What questions do you have?”

“Not yet. When you’re feeling better. I wanted to demand answers from you, but I promised my mom that I’d let you rest, despite the situation.”

“What situation? Exactly?” Angel had to know what else he’d gotten into. This was getting more complicated than life with the Currs normally was. None of it really made much sense.

“The werewolf who bit you? That’s my twin brother. He’s been missing for a long time, and you’re the best lead I have to find him and bring him back home.” Quintero’s face was hard and his tone heavy.

Angel shrank back from his words and the anger in them. Somehow he knew Quintero hated him. It was more than what he’d said or the tone he’d used. It was as if Angel could feel Quintero’s emotions, or the heat of them at least, and it made him uncomfortable. Deep inside, he knew Quintero wasn’t someone he wanted angry. A series of confusing emotions went through him. He wanted to placate the werewolf, wanted to make him happy, not angry, but at the same time, he felt defensive. He often got defensive when he wasn’t exactly sure what was going on.

“It’s not my fault he’s missing,” Angel said.

Quintero pursed his lips and nodded slightly. “I know that.” His voice softened slightly. “Why don’t you tell me what happened? That might help me figure out where he is now.”

Angel sat up though his head swam a little, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been a few minutes earlier. He felt better being upright instead of continuing to lie in the bed and feel helpless as he had been before. He touched his neck and was surprised that there was no bandage there. He pulled back the blankets enough to look down at himself, and there were no bandages on him anywhere. “What the heck?”

Quintero frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I was bitten. I’m sure of it. But I look like I’ve never been in a fight in my life.” He was feeling better by the minute, but didn’t like the disorientation going through him. Nothing was right. It was too strange. People didn’t heal so quickly.

“That’s the change. It breaks you down, then heals you. At least you’re through the worst of it. More or less.” Quintero paused, stood, and then paced from the bed. “Now, what do you know about my brother?” Quintero was starting to sound impatient.

Guessing he wasn’t going to wait like he’d said he was going to, Angel tried to remember as much as he could about that night. “I was with Dustin,” he slowly began. His throat tightened as he remembered how scared Dustin had been, and how quickly he’d died. Angel wasn’t one to cry, but thinking about Dustin right then, he couldn’t help it. He rubbed his eyes to wipe away the tears. He’d thought the years running with the Currs had made him hard. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried. But when he remembered Dustin’s dying screams and the sick wet sound of the werewolf tearing into him, something inside him broke.

“Your friend?” Quintero guessed, handing him a Kleenex after his tears slowed.

Sniffling, Angel nodded. “My best friend. We’d fooled around a bit, too, nothing serious though. We weren’t together or anything.” Angel had no idea why he was telling Quintero any of that. Maybe something about being a werewolf made him want to trust others, like some kind of screwed up version of survival instincts or pack behavior. He wasn’t sure, but he felt like he could trust Quintero, like the guy, as angry as he was, didn’t really want to hurt him. Maybe he wouldn’t hurt one of his own kind, which was what Angel had become. Like a lot of people, he’d heard rumors about how werewolf packs behaved, but werewolves were secretive enough they didn’t let a lot of information out about how they really acted. He wondered if Quintero might be an alpha or something, and the emerging wolf inside him wanted to please him.

“Why were you two in a barn with a werewolf?” Quintero didn’t sound nearly as impatient anymore. His voice had gone soft, like he was confused but also a bit concerned. Maybe Quintero thought he was crazy.

Angel was starting to think he had been, too. For years, the Currs had been his life, and his family, and then he’d been left so easily to die. Just like he’d been garbage, like his mom’s boyfriends had always said. He’d never had a real family, but the Currs had been one for him. And in the end, they’d hated him too. “Mikhail said it was the next step to becoming enforcers. Like it was some kind of a test. But I don’t think we were supposed to kill the werewolf. We didn’t go in with any special weapons or anything.” He thought about his pistol and how Dustin had fired his to no effect. If Mikhail had known there was a werewolf in there and had wanted them to kill it, he should’ve given them silver bullets. Maybe the test wasn’t killing the werewolf but surviving it.

Quintero stopped pacing next to the bed and growled deeply. Angel looked over at him. For some reason he wanted to reach out and touch him, to comfort him. He laid his fingers gently over Quintero’s forearm, over his dark blue uniform. He pulled back quickly, not having realized Quintero was a cop. “Am I going to be arrested?”

“For what? Being stupid? I wish, but unfortunately, that’s not something that’s enforceable.” He sighed deeply. “I think Mikhail, whoever he was, wanted you to be turned. I think you’re right, you weren’t supposed to kill Tom. I’d heard that some wolves had been asked to join in on certain initiation rituals before, but that was all by choice, and no werewolf would accept that kind of bargain, not when we’re trying so very hard to blend in with you all. Or, rather, not you anymore, humans in general. Maybe your gang got tired of asking, or maybe they never bothered to ask in the first place. Either way, this explains why Tom would be kept a prisoner for so long by your gang, and also why you were sent in blind. If you had fared better, they probably would have kept you around. That’s my guess, anyway. The big problem with that, though, is humans never do well with the change. Your bodies aren’t designed for it like ours are, and more often than not, you all end up dead. That’s why making more of us is so risky, and also forbidden for the most part. I guess we’re lucky only born wolves can turn humans—that’s probably why they need Tom. You’re probably not even old enough to consider being turned.”

“I’m twenty,” Angel said absently as his mind swam with the information Quintero was smothering him with.

“Humans aren’t even considered for the change until they’re at least twenty-five. Most people wait until thirty for a lot of reasons, childbearing not being the least of them.” He took out his phone and looked at it. “Stay here and rest. I need to make a few phone calls. Thank you for the information, you’ve been quite helpful. When you’re feeling better we’ll talk about what kind of a pack would be the best place for you and we’ll get you transferred there.”

“I don’t want a pack, I want to go after Mikhail.” He didn’t like the idea that he wasn’t going to get a say in what happened to him. He’d been abandoned, left for dead. He wanted Mikhail to pay for that. It wasn’t fair. How had Mikhail known if he was going to survive or not? He’d been guessing and guessed wrong. That was going to cost him. The Currs never left people behind, or that was what they’d been told. Mikhail had betrayed that.

Quintero smirked, then he put a hand on Angel’s shoulder and pushed him gently back onto the pillow. “No revenge. Not yet, at least. Rest now, like I told you to, and be nice to my mother. She likes you.”

Angel wanted to argue, but something stopped him. Quintero was calm, and his strength was reassuring. “I don’t want to be this thing. I don’t want to be a mon—” He quickly corrected himself. “I don’t want to be a werewolf.”

Quintero nodded. “I know, this life shouldn’t be forced on anyone, but there is beauty in it, if you’re willing to be patient and look.”

Angel closed his eyes and pulled the blankets around his shoulders. He was cold again, and he shivered under the weight. “When do the chills go away?”

“When the heat comes, and with it, the rest of your change. You’ll become aroused, and you’ll be hungry like you’ve never been before.”

Angel blushed and wished he could hide under the blanket forever. “Is there really no cure? Like they say on the news?”

“No, there is a cure, but it’s only effective within the first hour of being bitten, while your body has a chance to still fight off the infection. If you have an immune disorder, or if you’re already sick, then there is no hope of remaining human, but the news stations are controlled by humans, and to make sure everyone knows to stay away from us, they spread the information that suits them best. And that is that once you are bitten, you’re screwed. Unless, of course, you’re one of those people who actually wanted this life.”

Angel turned to look up at him. “Did you?”

“I didn’t have a choice, I was born this way. Some of us are. Most, nowadays. It helps keep our numbers down. Also, the ones who are turned can’t turn others. It’s sort of a checks and balances. We think the virus that makes us what we are just isn’t strong enough in the turned ones to be contagious, but in the born ones it is. Maybe science will figure that out someday. But we don’t need to worry about that right now. For now, you just need to understand from here on out the pack is going to support you—they will be your life.”

Angel had thought of the gang like that, but then Mikhail had turned on him. “Do you trust them?”

“Absolutely. Get some rest.” Quintero got up and moved away from him.

Angel lay back down and tried to sleep, but he was struggling with it. He wished he had more answers or that he even knew what questions to ask. He felt like he was living in some surreal dream world where nothing made sense.

Chapter Four

Quintero hated waiting for Angel to recover from his change, if he was even going to. He needed more answers, and he needed to find Tom. He was wasting time waiting for the man to come around and wake up to his new life.

And he was so young, too. Twenty was far too young to become a werewolf. He remembered waiting for his first change, but that didn’t mean that he’d been ready for it. There were things he hadn’t known, a lifetime of secrets he hadn’t been ready for. Werewolves kept things, even from their children, until they had endured their first change. Not everyone who was born to the pack became wolves, and humans couldn’t know everything about them. Quintero got that. There was a long history between the humans and the werewolves, and plenty of enemies on both sides. Even before the werewolves had come out into the public eye seventy years earlier, humans had known about them, but they’d stayed in the shadows. With everything in the open, it was more important than ever for everyone to be kept safe.

Quintero couldn’t suppress his growl of frustration as he sat at Angel’s bedside. He was asleep, and had been for nearly fourteen hours. That wasn’t unusual, but Quintero needed to get a handle on his annoyance over the man before he woke up again. He tried to do that by finding something he liked about Angel, and it certainly wasn’t his name. Quintero really didn’t like his name at all. If he ever had an actual conversation with Angel, he was likely just to call him Gel and see if the young man would accept that.

He was cute enough, though, if Quintero was looking for a guy a decade younger than him to spend the night. Otherwise, he snored. Not really, but Quintero was finding it hard to see something wrong with Angel. He looked good, and he smelled even better. It was the change working through him, Quintero knew that. Newly made werewolves were irresistible to the rest of them. It was supposed to make bringing them into the pack easier, but right then, Quintero was finding it completely ridiculous. He’d be better off if he could get away from the scent of him, but he’d promised his mother he’d stay by Angel’s side.

So the only thing to do, since he couldn’t think past his sudden unbearable attraction to Angel, was to get closer to him and sate his growing need with him. There was plenty of room in the bed, and Quintero shucked off his shoes so he wouldn’t make the comforter dirty. Lying beside him helped. Holding him would have been better, but Quintero wasn’t about to cross that unspoken boundary between them.

But then Angel turned over in his sleep and laid against him. Quintero’s arm was still between them, and Angel looked sweet and nearly innocent as he laid there next to him. Quintero tried to think of something besides how good he felt against him, or how nice he smelled, but that was nearly impossible. Quintero wanted him, nearly as much as he wanted the truth about what had happened to his brother and where he was now. But he wouldn’t give in to what he wanted. He never had before. It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of the situation. Young new pack members were supposed to be protected, and that was what he was going to do for Angel.

Angel’s breathing became erratic, and Quintero studied him. He sighed and wished he could do something to make his change easier. It wouldn’t get any easier though, not until it was over. At least he was sleeping through it for the most part. He started shaking, and Quintero quickly backtracked on his decision not to do anything more to Angel than lie next to him. He turned and held Angel against his chest. His short hair was against his nose, and Quintero turned away from the back of his head. Touch was important to werewolves, and he hoped his would help ease Angel’s final stage of change. He held him loosely, only tight enough to keep him still in the bed, and only because he couldn’t have Angel hurting himself on his watch. His mom would be pissed. Quintero tried to tell himself that was the only reason he was worried about Angel, to begin with, even though he felt the lie in his thoughts easily and it was a disgrace to want him, especially as young as he was.

“Quin?” Angel softly breathed.

“Quintero,” he quickly corrected.

“Why are you in bed with me?”

Because Quintero wanted him and this was the only way to sate that need. “Because you were shaking. I couldn’t have you hurting yourself. Most werewolves find touch comforting.”

Angel quivered in his grasp. “How long does this garbage last? Feeling sick like this all the time?”

Quintero sighed. “It depends. The change is different for everyone. How do you feel right now?”

“Like trash,” Angel grumbled, making Quintero smile against his hair.

“Just relax, it’ll be over soon enough. You just have to work through this.” He hugged Angel a little tighter, hoping to communicate his support and not the heat rising up in him.

Angel let out a rough cough that left him shaking. “I’ll help you find your brother if you help me kill Mikhail. He tricked us, and I don’t think we’re the only ones that were thrown in with a werewolf. I didn’t ask questions. I was too loyal. But guys have been disappearing for almost a year now. Maybe longer. We just figured it was rival gangs or something. It wasn’t too strange for the enforcers to pick some of us for little things like drug pickups or drops, things that only need a couple of guys to pull off. Sometimes those things go wrong. We all know that. I bet even now, the others just think Dustin and I had something go wrong on a drop.” He chuckled sadly. “I guess something did go wrong, it just wasn’t a drug deal.”

Quintero subconsciously squeezed Angel. Things were starting to fall into place—that was about how long Tom had been missing. He hated to think he’d been a prisoner of the gang for so long. But there were still pieces missing, some very important pieces. “Does anything stick out to you from that long ago? Something that would make sense about how your gang got hold of a werewolf in the first place? We’re not exactly easy to catch or trap.”

Angel turned over in his arms, and Quintero backed up, giving him some room. “I’m sorry. I had no idea that they had him.”

“It’s okay. I’ll find him soon.” Quintero was sure of it. He had to locate his brother. The pack needed him back, especially their mom. She put up a good front, most of the time, but Quintero could see through the cracks in her mask, and he knew how much she missed him and was hurting.

“And you’ll help me with Mikhail?” Angel asked hopefully.

Quintero smirked. “Angel, when you’ve completely gone through the change, you won’t need my help taking down Mikhail or anyone else you want to. But yes, when you’re ready to go after him, I’ll help you, because Mikhail is the best lead I have to find Tom. Now, get some rest.” He didn’t add that if Mikhail was also a werewolf, there might be a major battle to be fought, but something about how Angel smelled, made Quintero think he was going to be a very powerful werewolf who wasn’t going to be afraid of anything.

“I think I’ve rested enough. Can I get up? Maybe take a shower? I reek.”

Quintero didn’t think he did, but Angel’s change was impacting his scent, so Quintero really couldn’t trust his nose when it came to him. “Sure. I can make that happen.” Quintero rolled away from him and got up. “The bathroom is down the hall. Take your time. You’ll find clothes in the closet here. I’ll meet you downstairs when you’re done.” Quintero left him, both eager to get away from Angel’s intoxicating scent and also wanting to be right beside him again as well. It was a frustrating combination, and he felt much better after going downstairs to clear his head, even with the annoyed look his mom gave him.

“Is he dead?” she snapped.

“No,” Quintero answered without looking over at her. There was some already cooked bacon in the fridge, and he took three slices for himself.

“Then why aren’t you up there with him?”

“Did you want me to shower with him, too, or does he get to have some space to get that done on his own?”

She threw a dishcloth at him, but at least it was clean.

Chapter Five

Angel hesitated on the top of the stairs. He had showered, which made him feel marginally better, but he was wearing someone else’s clothes, and doing that had never really set right with him. And the pants smelled weird. Not in a bad way, and they were definitely clean, but he could smell whoever had worn them last, as if the sweats he had on were someone’s favorite pair and they wore them all the time. He’d thrown on a long-sleeved shirt as well, and this one had no deeply embedded smell, so that was good. He was still chilled, but hadn’t been able to find any socks. Maybe werewolves didn’t wear them.

He was struggling with the idea that he was a werewolf. It made sense, but then again it didn’t. When the werewolves had come out, slowly at first but still very much a part of the surrounding community, a lot of people had been in shock, too. It wasn’t every day that a guy found out he was living next to a monster. But things had calmed down in the years since then, and as far as he knew he’d never even met a werewolf before. They were fairly reclusive, and a lot of people still didn’t believe in them.

“Why are you so scared?” Quintero called from somewhere below.

Angel couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like maybe he was talking to him. He didn’t hear anyone else in the house. He hadn’t even heard Quintero until he’d started talking. “Me?”

“Yes, you. What’s wrong? You’re perfectly safe here. You don’t have to fear the big bad wolves once you become one.” He sounded sarcastic.

Angel rolled his eyes and decided to take the plunge and come downstairs, where he found Quintero at the kitchen table with a manila folder in front of him. He didn’t look up as Angel joined him. “There’s bacon in the fridge and plenty of meats and cheeses if you want to make yourself a sandwich. A word of warning, go slow at first. Your stomach might not be able to handle a big meal. You just shed all of your humanity.”

That was a weird way of putting it. “I wasn’t scared.”

Quintero snorted. “Your smell doesn’t lie. In time, you’ll learn to tell when someone’s lying. It’s not hard.”

Angel decided to ignore that for the moment. He sure as trash hadn’t been scared. “Okay. What do you mean by I shed my humanity? That doesn’t make any sense.”

Now Quintero did look up at him. “Not to get too weird or graphic on you, but your organs shed their human lining, their cells, to make room for the werewolf lining, which processes things differently and then you puked it up like black ooze. It’s how I knew that your change wasn’t reversible, since that’s what you were doing when I found you. If you get to that point, there’s no cure. And, since you lived this long, I guess you’re going to make it. Now, go get something to eat. You’re going to need it. Your body burns calories faster now. If you’ve ever had a problem with keeping your weight down, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. Instead, you’ll be downing massive steaks just to keep weight on, and that’s even before you start shifting. Some people joke and call it the hairy diet, since they can have a dozen cupcakes and it doesn’t do anything to them.”

Angel slowly blinked. “I puked black ooze, and you didn’t take me to the hospital? What the heck?” It sounded like the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. Black ooze had to be bad and require immediate attention. Maybe if he’d gotten faster attention he wouldn’t be changing into a werewolf. Anyone with a brain should’ve known that.

“I’m a werewolf, I know what it means. A human might not, unless they’re familiar with us, but I don’t get overly concerned about things like that. There’s no reason to. The only thing to be done for you was exactly what we did. You were kept warm and protected. Now you’re going to be fed, and then when you’re strong enough, you’ll be taught how to shift. Then you’ll be placed in a new pack. But during that time you will be helping me find my brother. Now, are you going to eat, or do I have to force feed you? I’m not above tying you down and prying your mouth open. My mom said I had to help you, she didn’t say how.”

“You’re a donkey,” Angel snarled. But inside he thought it might be interesting for Quintero to hold him down, though he wasn’t so sure about being force fed—at least not food.

Quintero just laughed.

Someone knocked at the front door, and Angel turned at the sound. He smelled a man standing behind the stained glass inlay of a hummingbird, but when he tried to focus on the scent, he only managed to give himself a headache. He didn’t doubt there was going to be a lot about being a werewolf he was going to have to learn. It might take him a while.

“Come in, Wes,” Quintero called out.

Angel glanced at him, then back at the door. He braced himself as a completely naked man a few years older than he was came through the door.

The man sniffed, then grinned at Angel. “Hey. I’m Wes.”

He came closer and Angel backed up against a nearby counter.

Quintero stopped him with a growl that made Angel shiver. “Wes, unless you came to say something useful, Angel needs some space right now. He’s not adjusted yet. Clearly.”

Wes looked completely disappointed as his smile fell. “I can smell him all the way outside. We all can. How can you be so close to him and not all over him?”

Angel stepped closer to Quintero. He didn’t know what either of them was talking about, but he didn’t like the way Wes stared at him as if he were on display in a meat counter or maybe a lingerie store window just waiting to be taken.

Quintero waved Wes away. “I can handle his scent right now because I’m older than you, and I’ve got some control over myself. Now, seriously, bye. The only one who comes in here until he’s done is Mom. He doesn’t need the rest of you trying to rub against him all day and night until his scent wears off.”

Wes glared but Quintero didn’t seem to care as he went back to staring at the papers in front of him. “Fine. I don’t see why you always get to have all the fun. It’s not fair.” He laughed until Quintero was laughing with him. It was a bit unsettling, and Angel wished one of them would let him in on what was so funny.

As soon as Wes was gone, Angel sat down across from Quintero at the table. Then he remembered Quintero’s almost command to eat or be force fed, so he went to the fridge and pulled out some of the bacon Quintero had mentioned. He was hungry, a little, but he also felt pretty queasy too, especially since Quintero had just told him about him puking black stuff. That sounded like something out of a horror movie, and here Quintero was acting like it was nothing and really didn’t matter, as if every werewolf on the face of the planet went through the same thing. Well, actually they did, Angel realized after a moment. Still, it sounded scary.

“Who was that?” Angel demanded once he’d started eating. The food gave him a bit of bravado he hadn’t felt before. “And what did he mean by my scent?”

Quintero glanced at him, then nodded as he slowly munched on the bacon. “Wes is my cousin. Second cousin, actually, not that it really matters. He’s one of many. It’s a pretty big family. Packs are like family groups, and generally we stay with our families forever, except when it makes sense to make an alliance with another pack, either by trading members of the pack or by marrying them off. I have a sister in Oregon, one in Alaska, and another in France. None of them were forced into the marriages. They were all given the choice if they wanted to go or not, and they’re perfectly happy with their lives. And if you ask me, they got the picks of the litters. Nice hot husbands.”

He took a deep breath. “And your scent... It happens with every newly changed werewolf. Your scent is irresistible to other werewolves. It makes accepting you into the pack easier, and it’s another reason we don’t change humans under twenty-five. Now, eat while I work.”

“I’ve got more questions,” Angel protested. He didn’t like feeling like he was being dismissed, and that sounded exactly like what Quintero was doing.

Quintero smirked. “I’m sure you do. Have some food first. Get your strength back. Tonight I’ll start to teach you how to shift.”

He started to eat, but he did have another question, one that couldn’t wait for Quintero to be done reading whatever he was looking at. “Is every guy here gay, or what? How would I be irresistible to a straight guy?”

“Werewolves don’t really work like that. There’s no gay or straight in the werewolf world, we’re just all... interested is the best way to put it, I guess.” Quintero shrugged and turned his attention back to the papers. “Our rules are a lot different than human rules. We’re wired completely different.”

Angel fell silent as he considered that. For a few moments, anyway. “If someone is straight before changing into a werewolf, do they become bi after? I don’t suddenly find women attractive, at least I don’t think I do, and I was gay before your brother attacked me.”

With a sigh, Quintero folded up the file and pushed it aside. “I guess work is going to have to wait for a little bit. When my boss throws a fit, I’ll blame you for the delay. We’re not really talking about sex here. There is that, but it’s more like having a connection with the other members of the pack. It’s emotional even more than physical. I’m probably not explaining it very well, but it’s wanting to be close to another person, to touch them, and be near them as much as possible during this time in your life.”

“That’s why you were in bed with me. Not because you wanted to keep me from hurting myself.”

“I was there because of both reasons.” Quintero got up, and Angel watched as he went to the fridge and pulled out a block of cheese. He didn’t get out a plate, or even a knife, he just took it out of the zip-lock bag it had been in and started eating it in big bites. “Look, the change drew me to you, but you’re a hot guy. You’re going to find the personal dynamics of being in a werewolf pack a bit confusing at first, but you’ll get the hang of it. There are a lot of unmated werewolves in the world. Like with humans, a bunch of us just aren’t cut out for long term relationships or prefer to be poly. I think there are a lot more poly werewolves than single mated pairs.”

Angel shook his head. He’d know some of the guys in the Currs liked getting together for group sex, with girls or by themselves, but he’d really never been comfortable in group situations. When he fooled around he liked to keep it just with one other person. He’d never found anyone he wanted to keep doing things with after a few casual times.

“I’m not saying everyone in the pack is poly. Some of the younger wolves take a while to figure out what they want.”

“I know a lot of guys like that.” Finding a way to see similarities between werewolves and humans helped Angel relax a bit. “How about you, are you part of the poly crowd or do you have a special mate?”

Quintero huffed. “No and no. Now don’t get me wrong. I don’t say no to a lot of fooling around with the unmated guys when the opportunity arises, but it’s nothing serious, just a way to get my rocks off. I guess when the right guy comes around I’ll know it. Also, work keeps me fairly busy, and I’m not around the pack as much as I’d like to be.”

“So being a cop keeps you from home.” Angel welcomed the opening to change subjects and get away from the topic of sex. Quintero might be older than him, but there was something really hot about him. He wasn’t sure if it was just the musky scent of werewolf or something more that made him want to get up close and personal with Quintero.

“Yeah. There always seems to be something going on.” Quintero finished off the block of cheese and started on some of the cold bacon, which Angle had to admit sounded awful but tasted wonderful. “Being a cop always keeps me busy.”

“Why are you a cop?” It was a question Angel had been wanting to ask him since he’d cleared his head enough to recognize the uniform for what it was. “If you’re a werewolf, do you have to have a job at all?”

Quintero laughed and handed Angel a slice of bacon. “Even werewolves need money if we’re going to live in this world. Most of us have jobs of one form or another. Most of us born wolves find things like cops or soldiers where we can use our gifts to the best of our abilities. Wes is a forest ranger. He’s really good at catching poachers and arsonists.”

Since he’d joined up with the Currs, Angel hadn’t given the idea of a legal job much thought, although he understood how money helped life be a lot better. “Am I going to have to get a real job?”

“Yes. We’ll see what we can do about finding you something your talents will be good for. Might even get the pack to send you to college.”

Angel held up a hand. “I never finished high school.”

“Then we get you a GED and send you to college. There’s a way around things like that. What would you like to do with your life? You can be anything you want to be. Becoming a werewolf won’t change that aspect of your life.”

Being anything other than a member of the Currs wasn’t something Angel had given much thought to in years. Even before joining the gang, he hadn’t given much thought to a future, and now that he was a werewolf, his future might be brighter than ever before. He shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m going to have to think about it.”

“Take your time. Nobody’s asking you to figure everything out right now.” Quintero handed him another sliver of bacon. “So how is the food?”

“Good, I guess.” Angel felt like he could keep eating for hours, but didn’t want to tell Quintero that.

“Let’s get some ham sandwiches in you too, then we’ll head outside. It’s time I show you how to shift. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get on Tom and Mikhail’s trail.” Quintero pulled out a tray of sliced ham from the fridge.

The idea of hunting down Mikhail made Angel’s blood race. A deep growl rumbled from inside him, and he suddenly wanted Mikhail to run from him. He wanted to chase him down and kill him like the cur he was. He shivered and felt like fur was running along his skin.

“You’re close.” Quintero rolled up a couple slices of ham and thrust them at him. “I think we’re going to wait for sandwiches.”

Angel inhaled the ham in two bites. He wanted more, but he shivered again. A strange feeling filled him and pushed the hunger aside.

Quintero took his arm. “Not in the house. Mom has rules about changing in the house if we can help it. Wolves belong outside, and having rules helps us maintain our humanity.”

“Rules? Can’t you just install doggie doors?” Angel couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“That would make sense. Maybe when you have your own house you can make your own rules. We’re in Mom’s house, so we follow her rules.” He pushed open the back door and let go of Angel’s arm.

The warm night wind blew across Angel’s skin, bringing a myriad of strange musky scents he could only assume were the other werewolves nearby. “Now what?” Their scents stirred something deep inside him.

“Take off your clothes.” Quintero started by taking off his shirt.

Angel’s breath caught at the sight of the man’s massive chest. He’d felt his strength when he’d woken up in Quintero’s arms, but seeing the beauty of it spread before him was more than he could’ve hoped for. He growled again and wanted to touch him, but the strange stirring deep inside him wanted out. He was growing hot from more than just the sight of Quintero’s body. He pulled the T-shirt over his head, then pushed the sweats down, suddenly not worried about the sounds of feet running toward him.

“Do you feel the heat beneath your skin?” Quintero asked.

“Yeah.” Angel forced the word out around the growl that was becoming almost constant.

“Embrace it. Let it come out.”

Angel wasn’t sure exactly how to do that. He’d never thought about how to control heat. Heat just was. It was part of life. And in that moment, it was engulfing him. He didn’t fight it as the sensation grew stronger. The heat seemed to reshape him. He dropped to the ground. The growl became a scream as the heat consumed him. Even the wind blowing through his hair couldn’t cool him.

Somewhere nearby someone howled, then another voice joined in.

Something bumped against his shoulder.

Turning slightly, Angel blinked. The huge wolf at his side could only be Quintero. Everything about the way he looked spoke of his power and confidence. There were others there too, but Quintero dominated the scene. The others looked like they were waiting for some clue from him for their next move.

Quintero took a couple of steps ahead of Angel and jerked his head toward the stand of trees just beyond several small houses.

Angel thought Quintero wanted him to follow him. He nodded.

Quintero howled and took off running.

As Angel followed him, the others howled, too, and suddenly he was surrounded by a dozen wolves as they ran through the forest. The heat within him died back as they ran. He felt freer than he ever had before. His senses were open in a way he’d never dreamed possible. Each wolf had a separate scent, but it was Quintero’s that kept drawing his attention. He followed Quintero, not minding that the other wolves were running with them. For a while, all that mattered was running and Quintero. The wolf cop was the center of his universe, and that was how he wanted it. He gave in to his need to keep up with Quintero and ran until he couldn’t run anymore. The night was perfect.

Chapter Six

Quintero loved to run wild through the forest, and running with Angel beside him was even better. It was rare to find someone who could keep up with him, and someone who didn’t shy away from a challenge. The rest of the pack had fallen behind them, then finally gave up and returned to the houses. Their fleeting footfalls had been music to his ears. He hadn’t held back when he ran with Angel, and by the time they stopped, he lay panting on the forest floor with leaves and twigs around him. He was laughing as he shifted back to be able to talk again.

Angel plopped down beside him, looking exhausted. He was panting more heavily than Quintero, but he had a very happy look on his dark muzzle. Quintero had seen similar looks on other wolves when they had their first shift and realized the freedom and grace that came with their fur. It made him realize how much Angel was made for the werewolf life. Not everyone was, and those who weren’t didn’t survive long. He didn’t doubt Angel would have a long life and rise quickly in the pack, as long as he could keep him safe through the hunt for his old gang and Tom. Quintero ran his hands over Angel’s back. “Slowly release the heat. You don’t need it anymore. It’s going to be hard this time, but if you relax through the discomfort, you’ll be fine.” He kept petting Angel, not wanting to let go of him, as Angel slowly turned back into a man. He was out of breath and covered in sweat, but as the pain in his face eased, he looked happy too.

“That was great,” Angel said with a grin.

“It’s one of the best things about being one of us,” Quintero agreed. He rolled over him, unable to stop himself from giving Angel a kiss any longer. He felt high from the adrenaline and the happiness running through him. Even though he’d been shifting and running half of his life, it still made him horny, especially when there was a hot guy next to him.

He didn’t expect Angel to kiss him back, or to arch his neck up to him, offering himself up for Quintero’s mouth. Quintero kissed him hungrily, trailing his mouth over Angel’s quickly cooling skin.

Angel tried to turn over, but Quintero stopped him with a firm hand on his chest. “Don’t you want me?” Angel asked, sounding disappointed.

Quintero laughed and continued kissing down Angel’s chest, quickly running the tip of his tongue over Angel’s hard nipples. “Of course I do.” He reached between his thighs and stroked himself, proving just how much he wanted him, in case Angel had any further questions.

“Then shouldn’t I be donkey up?”

Shaking his head, Quintero understood. “I like to look at the guys I have sex with generally. If I want you another way, or if you want to, then we will, but I’m not going to have you on your stomach right now.”

Angel looked confused, but he nodded anyway. “The guys I’ve been with didn’t really care who they were with, generally.”

“Jerks, the lot of them,” Quintero growled before moving his mouth lower. Angel had a short patch of dark hair above the base of his cock, and Quintero breathed him in, taking in Angel’s scent as his own, before he ran his cheek over the side of Angel’s hard cock. He loved the sound of Angel’s sharp gasp as he took him between his lips, and he kept a firm hand on him as Angel began to squirm under him.

Quintero wanted to take his time, to savor Angel in this moment that they had together, because now that he could shift, it wouldn’t be long before he’d be going to another pack that needed him more than the Front Range Pack did. He ran his tongue over Angel’s thick cock and sucked precum from his glistening tip.

“I need you,” Angel hissed.

Quintero nodded. He needed him, too. He was nearly aching with his need to be inside of him. He spit on his hand to get himself ready before he kissed his way back up Angel’s body. His legs became a vice around Quintero’s thighs, proving his need for him even more than before.

He was slow, easing himself into Angel’s donkey, even as Angel roughly kissed him. “Faster,” Angel chided.

Quintero shook his head. “Not right now.”

Angel let out an impatient growl that made Quintero smile. Quintero kept his mouth on Angel’s, kissing away his discomfort as his growl turned into fevered whimpers. He welcomed Angel’s nails on his back, even as his fingers changed to claws. He grew tighter with his need, squeezing Quintero and driving him mad as he thrust into him.

Angel was smaller than him, and far leaner, fitting easily under him. Quintero loved his musky scent as it mixed with the loamy earth and leaves below them. He sank a little farther into Angel with each hard thrust and held onto him tightly, not willing to let him go but knowing Angel wasn’t his to keep for very long. This thing between them wouldn’t last, but for that moment it was perfect.

Quintero let himself go, howling as he climaxed inside of him. Then he shook as he eased himself across Angel’s chest. He slipped his hand between them and stroked Angel. Quintero watched Angel’s face, memorizing each small expression as he pulled his pleasure from him until he came over Quintero’s hand, coating both their stomachs in his release.

They needed to get back, but Quintero didn’t want to leave him just yet. Instead, he moved to Angel’s side, holding him close. He placed his hand over Angel’s heartbeat and felt that soft patter against his palm as he listened to the forest around them. Everything was still, as if the entire world was holding its breath. There weren’t even any distant sounds of traffic from the interstate several miles away.

“What do we do now?” Angel asked after a few minutes.

Quintero shrugged. “A lot of that depends on you and what you want now. My goal hasn’t changed at all. I’m still determined to find Tom, and I could really use your help with that.”

“I’ll help you. Anything to get back at Mikhail for nearly killing me and for what he did to Dustin.” There was a grim darkness in Angel’s tone that was so different from the soft cries of pleasure he’d uttered just a few minutes earlier.

“We’ll find them and figure out what’s going on.” Quintero kissed the hollow of Angel’s neck. Even as the welcoming scent of his first shift drifted away, there was still something very intoxicating in Angel’s scent. Quintero wanted it around him forever, but he didn’t know how that would be possible. The pack was full to bursting, not to mention that he was a cop and Angel ran with a gang. They were a bad fit from the word go. But he didn’t care—he liked Angel and wanted to keep him around.

Chapter Seven

Angel wanted to run back to Denver as fast as he could and find Mikhail to demand answers and avenge Dustin. Quintero insisted they do things smart. That meant planning their moves. He wanted to make sure they found Tom, and to do that they had to be careful and not let anyone slip through their trap when they sprang it. It also meant getting other members of the pack involved. Quintero and his mother, Sofia, spent time talking. If Angel hadn’t been part of the Currs for so long, the delays would’ve driven him nuts, but he knew how important a good plan was for a successful operation.

“As much as I want Tom back... ” Sofia tapped on the wooden table top. “I don’t want any of the rest of us hurt or killed doing this.”

Quintero frowned at her. “Mother, I’m a cop, Wes is a forest ranger, Clyde is a fireman, and when Steph gets here from Fort Carson, she brings her army training. It’s not like we’re a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears cubs who don’t know what they’re doing.”

Even though Quintero had explained how werewolves could be anything they wanted to be, hearing the various pack members listed and the jobs they performed made Angel’s head swim. It really was like the worst night in his life was quickly becoming a defining moment, a turning point that might give him the ability to really make something of himself, and that made him feel good about things. It gave him hope.

He watched as Quintero took charge of everything; he liked the way he did that. Quintero was a natural leader. He asked for things, and people brought them. They had maps of the city, and Angel had already marked where the Currs’ territory was.

“I know you’re a cop, dear,” Sofia replied. “It’s one of the things that keeps me up some nights. But I also know you’re good at your job.”

Quintero’s phone rang before he could say anything more. He glanced at the screen before answering. “Marquez here.”

Angel could just make out a deep male voice on the other side of the call.

“Come over here.” Sofia took his arm and moved him a little away from Quintero. “It’s not polite to listen in on phone calls.”

“I wasn’t... ” Angel started to protest, then her look hardened and he shut his mouth.

“I’ve been around enough newly turned wolves to know how you’re just learning to control your senses. I know how tempting it is, but it’s not polite.” She sniffed slightly. “I thought I caught Quintero’s scent on you. Now I have to figure out what we’re going to do with you when this is all over.”

The sudden urge to get defensive filled Angel. He didn’t want to have things decided for him. He wanted to have his own life, to make his own decisions. “What if I want to stay.” He thought about the way Quintero made him feel. He wanted to get to know him better, to spend more time wrapped protectively in his strong arms.

“That’s up to you and Quintero.” Sofia let go of Angel’s arm when they were far enough away that he couldn’t hear even the faintest part of the man on the other side of the call, although he could still hear Quintero plainly, and it sounded like he was getting information about the Currs’ hideouts.

“Are you sure?” Quintero’s voice raised slightly. Then he looked at Angel and frowned. “All right. Thanks.” He tapped the screen on his phone and put it in his pocket before walking over to Angel and Sofia.

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked before Quintero got halfway across the kitchen.

“We’re still checking the places you’ve given us, but so far, the police in the area are saying they can’t find any sign of the Currs. Is it possible they split?” He paused and leaned against the center island.

Angel had never known the Currs to turn tail and run from anything. Their territory was the most important thing to them. They were still there, somewhere. He shook his head. “No way. They’re here.” He tapped the center of the map. “They won’t have left. They might have changed to a different hideout. Maybe the enforcers have a spot they never took the pups to, but they’ll be nearby.”

Quintero let out a long breath. “That’s going to make it harder to find them.”

“Look, man, the Currs are a major gang here in Denver. We never made it easy for the cops to find us.” Even as he spoke he realized he wasn’t sure whose side he was on. He’d been a Curr for years, and that was a lot to set aside, but Mikhail had betrayed his trust when he locked him and Dustin in the barn with Tom. That betrayal was more than he wanted to deal with, and it had changed his life. He wasn’t a human anymore, he was something more, but it still felt odd working with a cop to track down his old gang. He didn’t like the way it made him feel like he was betraying them.

“I don’t think any gang ever makes it easy for the authorities to track them down.” Quintero straightened from the counter and went to the fridge. They’d been eating ham and bacon sandwiches since they got back from the forest, and Angel was still hungry. It felt like he was going to get fat, but all he wanted to do was eat, and Quintero said it was okay.

“So what do we do?” Angel didn’t want to think about Mikhail slipping through their grasp. He wanted to avenge Dustin.

“We go hit each place you’ve marked on the map and see if we can pick up a scent.” Quintero pulled his phone out, then looked at Sofia. “Go get the others together. The more noses we have on this, the better the odds of not missing anything.”

“I just want you all to be careful,” she said, giving him a quick hug.

Angel stayed quiet, watching the exchange. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen his own mother, let alone the last time she’d hugged him. His family hadn’t been much into comforting touch. Slapping and hitting were more their way, and it had been one of the things that drove him from home and into the gang. He wondered what it would’ve been like to have a caring mother. Not for the first time since waking up with Quintero, he hoped they wouldn’t send him to another pack. He wanted to stay and find a place with them. He wanted Sofia as his mother and Quintero in his arms.

He grabbed another sandwich while Quintero finished more phone calls, and then it looked like Quintero was ready to move out.

Angel felt awful. His steps lagged as he led Quintero, Wes, Clyde and Steph into the Curr’s main lair.

Clyde, a large African American man sniffed the air. “Nobody’s been here in at least twenty-four hours.”

Quintero nodded. “I agree.” He prowled over to the couch where several members of the gang had been watching the football game the last time Angel had been there. That had been the night Mikhail had taken him and Dustin away. The night everything changed. There was still the reek of stale beer. It was a lot stronger now, since his nose was a lot more powerful. Quintero shook his head. “The scents don’t make much sense. Human mingled with werewolf.”

Angel went over to the couch and sniffed. He tried to remember who had been where, who smelled like what, but his heightened senses were so new none of it really made sense. There was the faint trace of Nadia’s perfume—she really liked the expensive stuff from Macy’s, and to Angel’s new senses, the smell stood out something fierce. If Mikhail was also a werewolf, how he could stand being around her? Or was it something she used to cover her own wolf scent?

The smell of werewolf was stronger by the pool table. That was where the enforcers liked to hang out, often telling the pups they weren’t good enough to play. Everyone liked to play when the enforcers weren’t around.

“I don’t think we’re going to find much here,” Quintero announced. “If we’re lucky, we have enough scents that we’ll know them if we cross them. But we’ll have to be really on the ball to make that work. Let’s go check some of the other hangouts.”

“Give me a minute.” Angel turned from the main room and hurried down the hall that led to the small rooms where the members of the Currs had their beds. It wasn’t much, but they never needed much. They had roofs over their heads, food, alcohol, and drugs in their bodies, and loved their lives. He went back to the room he had shared with Dustin. For several seconds he couldn’t bring himself to open the door. He didn’t really want to go into the room and find out what was there, or what was missing from the life he’d led until Mikhail’s betrayal.

Gritting his teeth, he forced his hand to close around the door handle and open it. The room was empty. He stood in the doorway staring into the room lit only by the sunlight coming in through the grimy window that was barely above street level. The noise of the traffic rumbling past, something he’d grown used to over time, assaulted him. He put his hands over his ears and started to walk out of the room when something glistening in the corner of the room caught his attention. He went over, bent down, and picked it up. It was a pin Dustin had gotten the previous summer at the pride fest they’d gone to. There were always lots of people at the pride fest, and Dustin liked picking pockets for extra cash. He’d gotten the pin off one of his marks. It was a small rainbow colored paw. Angel’s throat tightened as his hand closed over the pin. It was the only thing he had left of Dustin. He pushed his hand into his pocket and hurried out of the room. He didn’t stop until he was back at Quintero’s truck parked a block away. He sniffled and wiped at the tears streaming down his face until he smelled Quintero and the other werewolves coming up behind him. He just hoped they didn’t know about his breakdown. He didn’t want to appear weak in front of his new pack. It was going to take strength, not weakness, to bring Mikhail down and save Tom like they hadn’t been able to save Dustin.

Chapter Eight

Quintero wanted to pace, but driving around checking out the Curr’s hangouts didn’t leave him time or room for pacing. They’d been at three places so far, and there was no sign or smell of Tom. He was growing more and more agitated. Tom had been missing for a year, but he’d hoped with a fresh lead in the form of Angel he’d be able to pick up a trail. The fact that it wasn’t happening so easily made him angry. He’d been on enough stakeouts with human cops over the years to know these things never went quickly or easily, but he’d been hoping this time, with the others from the pack along and Angel leading them around, it was going to be different.

“This is harder than running down a line of illegal traps,” Wes said as they walked back to the trucks. “Almost as boring.”

“Nobody ever said cop work would be constantly exciting,” Quintero replied. “I think it’s a lot like any kind of hunting, a lot of lying in wait for something to happen and hoping when it does you’re awake enough to realize something’s going on.”

“Yeah, that way the rabbits never get away,” Clyde said as he opened the door to the truck he and Wes were traveling in. He froze and stared down the alley near where they’d parked. He dropped his voice. “Quintero, eyes.”

As he spun in the direction Clyde nodded, Quintero’s heart raced. He sniffed the air, hoping to get a scent, but the light breeze was blowing the wrong way. Keeping his hands low so the man in the alley couldn’t see them, he gestured for Wes and Steph to circle around. If they were good and fast, they could catch the man and maybe he could give them some information.

“What’s going on?” Angel asked, pausing with his hands on the truck bed, but the passenger side rear door unopened.

“Don’t turn around, but we’ve got someone watching us from the alley behind you.” Quintero kept his voice low, just loud enough Angel would catch it, but soft enough so that even if their watcher was a werewolf, he wouldn’t hear anything.

“Who is it?” Angel started to turn.

“Get in the truck!” Quintero snapped, a bit sharper than he’d planned.

Angel frowned, then did as he was told. “What’s your deal?” he demanded once the truck doors were closed.

“I don’t want to make him rabbit. Wes and Steph are circling now.” Quintero made as if to start the truck, then fumbled with the radio, hoping their observer was just thinking he was having car problems. “If he runs, he either runs into one of them or into us. Either way, we’ve got him trapped.” Quintero didn’t add that was unless the guy knew another way out of the alley. If that was the case, he could be in the wind before they realized he was moving.

His phone rang, and he answered it.

“He’s coming closer,” Clyde said softly. Clyde had also gotten into his truck, and from the look of it was watching out his rearview mirror at their target.

“Thanks.” Quintero hung up, then looked at Angel. He could only think of one thing to do to make sure the man in the alley didn’t get away. “I’ll need you to open the door.” He pulled off his shirt.

“What?” Angel stared.

“The odds are, he knows what we are. He might actually be a werewolf himself. We can’t tell, because the wind is blowing the wrong way. I don’t want him to get away.” Quintero unfastened his jeans and raised his hips to slip out of them. “I’m going to chase him down. Since we’re in the truck, you get to open the door.”

“But shifting isn’t instant.” Angel sounded confused. “And it hurts.”

“It isn’t for you. You’ll learn how to shift faster and less painfully as time goes on.” Quintero willed himself to shift. The heat filled him and an instant later he was a large wolf, all but sitting on Angel’s lap.

“You’re huge,” Angel muttered as he opened the door for Quintero to get out.

Quintero yipped in agreement, then his front paws hit the sidewalk and he took off. The man in the alley turned and ran the opposite direction. He made it almost to the end of the alley before Steph stepped out from behind a dumpster and clotheslined him. He stumbled and crashed to the asphalt. Quintero pounced on him. The smell of scared werewolf filled his nose. He growled, and the smaller man wet himself.

“Dude, you’ve got to stop scaring the piss out of people,” Wes said, appearing from the other end of the alley.

Not being able to answer him back, Quintero glared instead.

Steph got hold of the man’s collar and hauled him to his feet. “All right, little man, you’re going to come with us and talk. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to go back to your pack and explain how you got beat up by a girl.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the man stammered.

“Right.” Steph sniffed along his face. “You’re one of us, don’t try to deny it. Now we’re going to go somewhere a little more private and talk. If you don’t talk, I rough you up. If that doesn’t make you talk, then Quintero here is going to tear chunks out of you until you do. The last guy he tore chunks out of never completely healed. I don’t know if they bothered to tell you damage from one of us lasts a long time.”

Wes leaned over her shoulder and grinned at the man. “I’d talk to the lady. She’s nicer than any of the rest of us.”

Quintero led the way back down the alley. Angel stood next to the truck, wide-eyed. He quickly opened the door so Quintero could jump in and shift back.

“Carlos?” Angel said as Steph shoved the man into the back seat.

“You know him?” Quintero asked as he bucked slightly to get his pants on.

“Yeah, he’s one of the enforcers with the Currs.” Angel stared at the smaller man. “He became an enforcer right before Mikhail had Tom kill Dustin.”

“You were dead too, that’s what Mikhail said,” Carlos snapped.

Quintero pulled on his shirt and motioned for Wes to go join Clyde in the other truck. Steph settled into the backseat next to Carlos.

“Mikhail lied. He left me for dead!” Angel started to go over the back seat as if he meant to do Carlos harm.

Quintero grabbed him around the waist. “Not here. Save it. You’ll get your pieces of flesh when we find Mikhail. We all will.” He felt like he was making a promise that he wasn’t exactly sure he’d be able to keep, but he wanted to see Angel happy. He wanted the darkness that surrounded the young man to go away so he could see the vibrant person he knew in his gut lay under the rough facade.

They reached a park on the far side of Denver that Quintero knew was normally deserted in the late afternoon. He didn’t want to risk taking the man they’d captured to his mother’s house. Angel had turned out okay, but he had no way of knowing what Carlos might do. He wasn’t going to put the pack in any danger he could prevent.

“Park’s clear,” Wes announced as Quintero parked. “Don’t know for how long, so we probably want to move fast. Smells like a few werewolves have been through here.” He glanced up at the mountains to the west. “I know a few folks come this way when they travel across country on four feet.”

Not adding anything, Quintero nodded for Steph to take Carlos out of the truck. He pushed back his doubts about what he was going to have to do to get information out of Carlos. There were things he didn’t like to do, things that his training as a cop said were wrong, but this didn’t have to do with being a cop, this was pack business, and he was the alpha male of the Front Range Pack. Together with his mother as alpha female, he kept things running and made sure everyone was safe. Sometimes that safety meant doing things he didn’t necessarily agree with for the greater good.

Steph and Wes led Carlos over to a tree, and he went without a struggle.

“What are you going to do to him?” Angel grabbed Quintero’s arm.

“Get what information out of him we can.” Quintero hoped Angel wasn’t about to question his motives or his methods. They didn’t have time for him to have to explain everything.

“Can I try first?” Angel’s voice was dark, it wasn’t the tone Quintero had expected.

“If you think you can convince him to tell you something, that would be great.” If it saved Quintero from getting his hands bloody, that would be even better. “Just realize we’re out in public here. We can be interrupted at any time.”

Angel nodded.

“So be quick about it.” He squared his shoulders and marched toward the tree where Wes and Steph held Carlos.

Clyde followed close behind. “I’ll let you know if I hear anyone coming.”

“Thanks.” Quintero flashed him a quick thumbs-up.

“Carlos, come on man, this doesn’t have to be hard,” Angel said. “We’ve got nothing against you. We’re looking for Mikhail and Tom.”

Carlos shook his head. “I don’t know no Tom. Dude, you know all the guys I do. We don’t know no Tom.”

“Tom did this to me.” Angel flashed his claws at Carlos. “I bet he did it to you, too.”

“That wasn’t Tom.” Carlos smiled. “You don’t even know what’s going on here do you?”

“Maybe you can enlighten us.” Quintero put a hand on Angel’s shoulder, hoping the display would remind Carlos, Angel wasn’t alone in questioning him.

“It’s time for change.” Carlos glared at them. “The master is ready for werewolves to show the humans who is in charge of this world. We’ve lingered in the shadows too long.”

Quintero had heard of other werewolves who thought to bring their kind into positions of power in the past. The packs always put them down. There weren’t enough werewolves to overcome the humans. They did their best to patrol their numbers and make sure they didn’t grow too many. Even when they came out during World War II, it hadn’t been to take over as rulers of the planet, it had been to work beside the Allies to defeat a greater darkness.

“Where’s Mikhail?” Angel demanded.

“He’s working on building our numbers. He’s leading the Currs to greatness.”

“There is no greatness in trying to rule the world,” Quintero barked. He couldn’t stand to hear what was pouring out of Carlos’ mouth. It was just madness. It would bring destruction down on all of them. He couldn’t help himself—he stepped around Angel and punch Carlos hard in the gut. Only Wes and Steph keeping him upright prevented him from crumpling into last year’s pine needles that littered the ground under the tree.

Carlos grinned as he lifted his head to stare at Quintero. “You have no idea.”

Something snapped and Carlos breathed in deep. The smell of almonds wafted up from his mouth, and silver frothed from his lips.

Wes and Steph let go of him and jumped back.

“Shoot!” Wes stared as Carlos started to convulse at the base of the tree. “Silver laced cyanide? What the heck?”

Quintero frowned and knelt next to Carlos as his heart stopped and he lay still. “Someone is going to a lot of trouble here. This is all very James Bond, in a werewolf sort of way.” He remembered the way he and Tom used to watch James Bond films as kids. They took turns being 007 in their play, because the only thing scarier than a werewolf was a spy. Now someone was pulling some of the same trash as they’d seen in the movies, and that didn’t make much sense. They hadn’t really found out anything from Carlos, other than he didn’t know where Tom was, and that he’d been willing to die for his master who was turning gang members into werewolves intent on taking over the world.

None of it made much sense, and Quintero hated that. He sighed as he moved back. “Clyde, can you take him? I’m going to look around here a bit more—maybe we can find a clue or something to tell us what’s happening.”

Angel came up close to him as Quintero moved away from the body. “What are you thinking?”

Quintero glanced at him. “That I need answers. We all do.” He started walking, making small circles around where they had worked Carlos over and moving in larger circles as he and Angel walked farther out. He shook his head and crouched down to get a closer look at a deep footprint in the grass. The scent was heavier than the few that had come through from time to time. Those were distant past, almost faded into obscurity. This was fresher. A werewolf had been there recently. It was a good spot for disappearing into the mountains or gaining access to the city. It was also a spot a werewolf could use to go north or south, like toward the barn in Castle Rock where he’d found Angel.

“A werewolf has been here.”

“You mean besides us?”

Quintero nodded. “Yes. And I don’t recognize him, which is weird. We all smell pretty unique, and I’ve met most of the werewolves in the area.” Even as he spoke, he realized the assumption he’d lived with for years, that the Front Range Pack was the only pack in the area, was wrong. There was a born wolf creating an army of new wolves who didn’t care about the rules, who were used to living outside human laws. The very idea of it brought a chill. The rest of the nearby alphas would need to know. They would all demand action. If he didn’t find the werewolf responsible, the others would send their strongest to Denver to kill the rogue, and Quintero would lose his position in the pack and possibly his life. Things were a lot worse than he’d ever thought possible. As much as he wanted to find Tom, he had to deal with the Currs first.

An idea came as he turned and headed back to the truck. The rogue had to be using Tom. There was a possibility it wasn’t even another werewolf, but a human bent on settling things between their two races.

“Wait a minute—” Angel grabbed his arm. “You spot that track and say it’s another werewolf and now you’re just walking back to the truck. What’s up with that?”

“We have to plan things out. We can’t just chase off after a scent, particularly a weak scent. This park connects to the national forest on the western edge. A lot of game come and go through that corridor. It weaves over to Waterton Canyon, through a bunch of houses. Too much to track very far, unless it was a very fresh trail. It’s enough I have further evidence of an incursion into my territory.” Quintero leaned up against the truck’s tailgate. “We have to be smart. Right now they’re two steps ahead of us. I’ve never known a werewolf to take his own life like Carlos just did. This master he was talking about must really have your gang cowed.”

“The Currs don’t cow down,” Angel snapped.

“That you know of,” Quintero corrected him. “You didn’t even know your enforcers were werewolves. There’s something going on here. It might be just what Carlos suggested, or it might be something else. We need to find Mikhail and the other gang members to get to the root of everything.”

Angel pursed his lips and looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end, he kept his mouth shut.

“Come on.” Quintero put his arm around Angel’s shoulders and steered him toward the truck cab. It felt good to have contact with Angel again, especially in such a difficult moment for the pack. They were werewolves. and werewolves liked touching. It made things feel better. He wished they had time for more than just a brief touch, but they didn’t. The longer they took to sort out what was happening, the greater the damage the rogue, or whoever it was, could do.

Chapter Nine

Angel yawned as he settled onto the couch near the fireplace and watched Quintero and Sofia on the phone. He was trying to be good and not listen in on their calls. but it was hard. Several times they both raised their voices trying to explain to people on the other end that they had everything under control and there was no need to send help. They promised more than one person they would ask for assistance when it was needed.

“This is getting a lot more intense by the minute isn’t it?” Wes plopped down on the couch next to Angel.

“Is it often like this?”

Wes shook his head. “Not normally. Most of the time we’re just like a big human family, we just turn furry once in a while. We get together, we have dinner, we go for a run, go hunting, go to the movies, argue over what movies we’re going to go see until Sofia steps in and tells us what we’re going to watch. You know, normal family stuff.”

Angel stopped himself from shaking his head. He hadn’t had a normal family. He’d had his messed up family, then the Currs. It sounded strange that he might actually end up with something like a normal family in a pack of werewolves. “Yeah, sounds pretty normal. So is Quintero always this intense?”

“Quintero.” Humming, Wes glanced over his shoulder to where Quintero leaned against the kitchen counter. “He’s been fairly obsessed since Tom disappeared. He was fit to be tied when it happened. He’d gone to the West Coast for some cop conference. We all figured Tom had just gone up into the mountains for a few days and weren’t too worried about it. A lot of us do things like that—most of us are pretty good about letting Sofia know though. Tom was a bit of a wild card, the rule breaker to Quintero’s line-tower. But when Quintero got home and Tom didn’t show back up pretty quickly, we all started looking for him. He’d been gone long enough we couldn’t find any trail. It was like he’d just disappeared, but that was also at the time of the big fire in the foothills last year. All the smoke really messed with our noses. It didn’t help that Clyde and I were in the middle of that mess.” Wes shook his head and added a curl to his lips. “I hate wildfires.”

Angel remembered the news and how the black smoke had billowed down the mountain heading for Denver for days on end. It had been bad enough when he’d just had a human nose—he couldn’t image how awful all that smoke would smell to his newly enhanced senses. “I guess if he’s a cop, he’s got to keep his nose fairly clean.”

Wes shrugged. “Depends. Pack comes before humans, even to Quintero. I was a little surprised when he took the risk he did with Carlos today. There are other places we could’ve taken him, but they aren’t as close. Time is of the essence right now, and Quintero is bending the rules, even his own at this point, in order to track down any leads on Tom.”

“Then why are we sitting here?” Angel was trying to understand how the pack worked. He’d been with the Currs long enough to know that when another gang did something, you hit back as hard and fast as you could. Then he stopped and thought about it for a moment. They’d spent the day doing everything they could to find the Currs. In many ways, the pack operated like a gang. They’d checked all the logical places and had come up empty. Angel wanted to get his claws on Mikhail bad enough that he’d even started thinking of other spots the gang might be. Then an idea hit him.

“We’re getting information,” Wes replied.

Angel waved him off as he stood. “Quin, I’ve got an idea.”

In the kitchen, Quintero covered the lower part of his phone and glared at him. “It’s Quintero, and just a minute.”

“Sure, whatever.” Angel walked over to where they had maps of Denver laid out on the kitchen table. There were marks on the places they’d checked. There were other marks in places Quintero said the cops had checked for him. It didn’t feel right using the cops to check for them, but he understood using all their resources, and if Quintero was a cop, he might as well use it for something good. He looked at the map and remembered some of the things he’d heard from Mikhail about how the Currs were expanding their territory. Since he hadn’t been one of the enforcers, he hadn’t been in on the planning, he’d just been a foot soldier and courier, but he’d listened. He also knew where some of the other gangs had their territory and safe houses.

He picked up a marker and started a new set of lines and symbols.

“What’s this?” Wes asked, coming up so quietly he startled Angel into making a jerky squiggle where he’d been marking a safe house with a circle.

“The other gang’s territories.” He straightened out the mark as best he could.

“And why are you doing that?” Quintero asked, coming up just as quietly behind him.

Angel vowed to practice the quiet moving, and soon, too. It was unnerving how silently they moved, and he couldn’t wait to make Quintero jump in surprise. “The Currs have been working on expanding their territory. Part of that means taking over new safe houses. We might’ve been looking in the wrong places for them. In the past, we always just moved in slowly, block by block. The odds are, Mikhail is still doing that.”

“Then why the big jump here?” Wes gestured to a point on the map where Angel had gone the equivalent of three blocks.

“Big park and school. Nothing to really annex there as far as the gang is concerned.” Angel paused and stared at the spot. “Unless I start thinking like a werewolf.”

“And a park provides places to hide. A werewolf would value a park a lot more than they would blocks of houses or stores,” Sofia said. “Good idea, Angel.”

“We’ll be back as soon as we’ve checked it out,” Quintero said, already moving away again. He was all business as usual. Angel wanted to have him alone again, but he knew they needed to get this done first. He was feeling just as anxious as the rest of them to find some leads. He was nearly desperate to find Mikhail again as well.

“Be careful.” Sofia gently touched Quintero’s arm. “I don’t like the way this feels. There’s something really wrong here.”

Quintero nodded. “I know. I feel it too. And we’ve got to stop it from getting worse.”

“I’ll get Steph and Clyde, then meet you at the trucks,” Wes said before hurrying off.

“I’d like you to stay here,” Quintero said, fixing Angel with a hard stare.

Angel shook his head. “No way. I might be the new werewolf here, but this is my old gang. I know the way they operate. Not to mention you promised me a shot at Mikhail.” His face hardened as he put his hands on his hips. “I’m holding you to that.”

“You’re the youngest member of the pack. I’m supposed to protect you.”

“So?” Angel shrugged. “I don’t really care about that. And I don’t really need your protection, as much as I appreciate the gesture. It’s not warranted or wanted. What I want is to avenge Dustin, and I can’t do that from here so you really don’t have a choice because I’m going with you.” There was no way he was going to let Quintero leave without him. Even if he had to hide in the truck bed and ride across Denver, he would. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of checking the closest spots to annex before. It made so much sense. He just hoped he was right.

Chapter Ten

To Quintero, the park made a lot of sense as a place for a werewolf to hide out. It bordered on a large high school on two sides that gave the space a good bit of cover. There were a lot of trees and bushes around. A stream ran through the middle of the park. As soon as they pulled up into the darkened parking lot, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. There was something there. When he got out of the truck he realized the street lights for several blocks weren’t working. It gave the area an eerie darkness in the bright Denver night.

“This ain’t right,” Clyde said, coming over to Quintero’s truck.

“I agree.” Quintero scanned the darkness, thankful he wasn’t as put off by it as a human would be.

“What’s wrong?” Angel asked from the far side of the truck bed.

“All the streetlights are out.” Quintero pointed to the darkened poles around the parking lot.

Angel shrugged. “We’re in gang territory. We take out the lights as much as possible. It makes people uneasy, and uneasy people—”

“Are easy prey,” Wes finished, his voice going hard.

Quintero wondered if the gang division of the police department knew about that little trick. He wasn’t on the gang unit, but it made sense for the folks in the division to know that. He made a mental note to tell someone the next chance he had. “But this doesn’t mean it’s the Currs, just that one of the gangs claims this area.”

“Right.” Angel looked across the park. “I guess for us, the lights being out isn’t a huge issue, is it? One of the perks of being a werewolf.”

“Right.” Quintero took a deep breath, letting the night air fill his lungs He could tell there were a large number of humans around, but the distinct musky scent of a pack of werewolves was present, too. It was like they’d just gotten out of the trucks and stepped into a den. He recognized a couple of the scents from the barn where he’d found Angel. He could only assume one was Mikhail, but Tom’s scent was also there.

“Hey, Tom’s nearby,” Wes said.

“I agree,” Clyde added after taking a deep breath. “But there are several others, too.”

Steph pumped the shotgun she’d brought along. “And I’m ready for them.”

“Keep the shooting to a minimum,” Quintero warned. “We’re in the middle of town. We don’t need innocents hurt. Make sure you have a good target before you fire.” He pulled out his own sidearm. He’d made sure to put in silver bullets earlier. It wasn’t considered fair in a dominance fight to use silver, but this wasn’t a regular fight, this was them trying to stop the Currs and whoever was controlling them from upsetting the balance of power between the humans and the werewolves. In a way it was war, and all was fair when it came to war.

Wes and Clyde shifted and padded along beside them as they headed out across the park, toward the school and the strongest scent. Quintero shivered as they got closer to the school. The idea that a gang of werewolves had their base of operations in or near a school gnawed at him something fierce. He had sworn to serve and protect his community, and this had sprung up in the middle of his territory. He felt like he’d failed everyone and had to make it right. He swore he wasn’t going to leave the park until he was sure the threat had been dealt with.

Wes whined, drawing Quintero’s attention.

“Got a wolf pacing us over by the bushes to the east,” Steph reported.

Quintero looked that direction. It was a large silver wolf who stood out in the shadows. For a moment, Quintero wondered if it was there because it was silver and would be more visible than a darker werewolf. “I see him. Don’t attack until he does.” He kept following the scent.

“But shouldn’t we—” Angel started to complain.

“We follow my lead,” Quintero quietly snapped. “I’m alpha here.” He wasn’t used to his decisions being questioned. He wondered how long it would be before Angel didn’t question things, then he wondered if he would like that or not. Most members of the pack followed his lead without question. It was nice being reminded that he wasn’t the be-all, end-all around and that other people were entitled to their opinions, but in the middle of a raid wasn’t the time for that.

“Fine.” There was a subtle growl in Angel’s words, but Quintero didn’t have time to worry about that. They could address it later. Angel had a lot to learn about being in a pack, and Quintero planned to teach him all of it, but only when they had more time to do so.

The scent trail led straight to the side of the school, then around to the back door. The silver wolf stayed visible as they walked. There wasn’t any evidence of other wolves beyond the scents they followed. That made Quintero nervous. There were too many ambush opportunities as they approached the back door. The dumpsters and storage buildings there provided perfect spots for wolves to pounce on them, but Quintero couldn’t hear any breathing or footfalls beyond their own.

The first werewolf came at them from near the grease trap that masked her scent. She hit Angel and slammed him into the dirty concrete.

Angel kicked her off, then slashed at her with his claws. For a wolf who’d only completely shifted once, he was a natural at using his new gifts, and Quintero was impressed, despite his worry. Angel’s claws left deep grooves in her side while her red fur flew around them.

Quintero didn’t want to be distracted by the fight, even as impressive as Angel was while holding his own against her. He put a bullet in her as soon as she staggered away from Angel. A faint tinge of guilt hit him for killing a female, but he reminded himself she was a turned wolf, not fertile, not important to the survival of their species. It was a good thing to put her down before she could cause too much trouble. Her body shifted back as soon as she was dead, turning into a slim young woman.

“Hey, Nadia should’ve been my kill,” Angel objected as he shook out his hands, sending blood flying against the grease-stained wall.

“I promised you Mikhail, that’s all.” Quintero stared down the dark stairs leading below the school. It was dark enough down there even his keen night vision was useless. “The scent trail leads that way.” He gestured down with his pistol.

“We’ve got point,” Steph said as Clyde stepped next to her and they started down the stairs.

Quintero glanced toward the last spot he’d seen the silver wolf. It was gone. He hoped it was being smart and had left after he saw them kill Nadia. “Who was Nadia?” Quintero asked as he and Angel started down the stairs with Wes stopping to guard the door.

“Mikhail’s girl.” Angel shuddered. “I guess she was important enough to be turned, too.”

“Appears that way.” Quintero knew one of the ways to control someone was to control the ones they loved. Maybe she’d been turned first. He’d never know unless they managed to find the pack master or took time to question Mikhail, although he doubted Angel would give them that opportunity.

The darkness closed in around them, and the musky dust of the basement made following a scent trail difficult. Although he would hate being underground, he knew most true wolves denned in holes they dug as opposed to caves. Even dogs found being in enclosed areas comforting, Quintero hated it. He wanted to be out in the forest and running free where he could see the night sky and know what was around him. The tightness of the basement made him worried someone could get the drop on them.

A soft growl was all the warning they had. A wolf charged as Steph and Clyde stepped off the stairs. Steph’s shotgun barked. There was a flash that illuminated three wolves charging them. Two of the wolves yelped. Clyde howled.

Quintero wished for light. Werewolves didn’t own flashlights. It wasn’t anything he’d ever thought about carrying before. He didn’t even use one when he was on duty, but he wanted to make sure he knew where everyone was. He couldn’t fire his pistol without getting a clear shot.

“Stay behind me.” He reached back for Angel.

“Okay.” Angel’s hand closed on his. It was warm and comforting. The fact that it was more than human warm told Quintero how close to the surface Angel’s wolf was. It wouldn’t take much for him to shift. Being only Angel’s second shift, it wouldn’t be quick and easy. It would take him a minute or so, and he’d be vulnerable while he struggled through the change. With any luck, they wouldn’t get to that point.

Someone crashed to the stairs. Steph’s shotgun reported again. The light from it showed three more wolves closing in to replace the two who lay sprawled and lifeless at the base of the stairs. He wondered how many wolves were in the rogue pack—no, gang. Of all the things he’d asked Angel, the numbers of the Currs hadn’t been on the list. He cursed himself for the oversight.

A howl from the top of the stairs warned Quintero that Wes was engaging the enemy on his side. They were going to need to act fast or they might be overwhelmed. Something brushed against his leg and the scent of a strange wolf filled his nose right before he was knocked backward.

The concrete stairs bit into his back as he crashed down. He grabbed hold of the wolf on top of him and fired his pistol as close to his own hand as he dared. The wolf yelped, then went limp.

“Quin!” Angel shouted, then growled.

Quintero wanted to correct him, but he kind of liked the fact that Angel was using the familiar of his name. Maybe when they got out of the fight they could negotiate things like that, though he’d never want Angel to use that nickname for him with the rest of the pack. It was something private, just for them.

Another strange wolf ran across him. Quintero grabbed hold of it and rolled it onto the stairs under him before shooting it in the chest. He wished he knew how many opponents they had, but if they kept coming in to bring the fight up close and personal, he felt safer shooting them. At least that way he knew he wouldn’t inadvertently shoot a pack member.

The smell of Angel’s fur filled his nose and Quintero realized he’d lost control and shifted. Then Angel rushed past him, down the stairs and into the sounds of heavier fighting where Steph and Clyde were. Quintero surged to his feet and followed into the darkness. He didn’t want anything to happen to Angel.

Chapter Eleven

The fear and anger overwhelmed Angel. It brought his wolf out stronger than it had come the first time. When Quintero had been knocked back on the stairs, the heat had engulfed him. He’d had time to call out, then the wolf roared out and was ready for battle.

The darkness made it hard to get his bearings, but he could smell Quintero below him. Quintero was safe, and Angel knew Quintero would do everything he could to make sure Angel got out of the fight alive, but then he caught another scent. One he’d never fully realized before. Mikhail was nearby.

He rushed past Quintero, stumbling a bit over the two bodies next to him. Then he was past Steph and Clyde. There was the scent of blood coming from Clyde, but he didn’t smell dead. It was impossible to tell in the darkness.

“Steph, don’t shoot Angel!” Quintero shouted from above them.

Angel ignored his call. He had a trail on Mikhail. He was close, and he was going to pay for killing Dustin. Angel was a little surprised when he didn’t meet any resistance as he charged across the dark floor. He couldn’t see where he was going, but his nose told him where he needed to put his feet and that the coast was clear.

A bright light appeared at the end of a long hall. Angel wondered for a moment if it went the whole length of the school building. It felt like he’d been running for several minutes, but his heart was pounding so hard it was difficult for him to tell.

“You weren’t supposed to survive.” Mikhail stepped out of a doorway, blocking part of the light. “You were just supposed to feed him.”

Feed him? What did that mean? Angel didn’t care. Mikhail was on two legs, not four, and that gave Angel the advantage. He sped up, closing the distance between them as fast as he could.

A shot rang out.

Pain lanced through Angel’s shoulder, and he slammed into the doorframe as opposed to hitting Mikhail.

“You really were always so stupid,” Mikhail said. “I should shoot you again, but we were told to always make it look like a war between two packs. The master wants it to look like the werewolves are trying to tear themselves apart. You’re bigger than I figured you’d be.”

Angel struggled to his feet, trying to figure out what Mikhail was going on about. Then the smell of fur filled his nose as Mikhail shifted. He did it quickly and easily, like Steph, Wes, and Clyde did. For a moment Angel wondered how Quintero could shift so easily, then Mikhail was on him.

The first blow made his injured shoulder scream in pain, but as Mikhail’s scent filled his nose, Angel was able to force the pain back. He snapped at Mikhail, trying to get hold of his neck, but Mikhail twisted away from him.

Growling, Angel tried to go under Mikhail’s forepaws, but Mikhail drove his claws down into Angel’s shoulder, hitting the spot the bullet had entered. He yelped and threw Mikhail off, scrambling to the other side of the hallway.

Mikhail lowered his head and huffed at Angel. It sounded like laughter and made Angel madder than he’d ever been. Mikhail had known what was in the barn when he barred the door behind them. He’d expected both of them to die, to feed Tom. That was messed up. He had to be stopped. Angel howled and charged. He made it three steps before his injured shoulder gave out. He crashed to the ground, but Mikhail was already leaping at him. Mikhail sailed over him and Angel instinctively rolled and lashed out with his uninjured hind legs. His sharp claws dug deep into Mikhail, sending him screaming into the wall.

Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Angel rushed Mikhail before he could get back to his feet. The blood and gore on the floor made his footing tricky, but he barreled into Mikhail, smashing him harder into the wall. He found Mikhail’s neck and clamped his jaws down tight. Mikhail’s claws raked his legs, but he held on as tight as he could until Mikhail stopped moving. He had to, Dustin would want him to.

Tears rolled down his eyes as he shook Mikhail. For years all he’d wanted was to be one of the enforcers for the Currs. Mikhail had betrayed him and Dustin. But Dustin hadn’t deserved to die for his dreams, not like Mikhail deserved to die for setting Dustin up. Even when Mikhail was nothing more than a limp piece of meat, Angel kept shaking him. He had to. He couldn’t let go. He had to make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Mikhail was dead.

A hand stroked his head. It took Angel a second to recognize Quintero’s scent. “Let go, Angel. He’s dead.”

Angel stopped shaking the limp form but didn’t drop it. The blood and fur filled his mouth, and as his stomach knotted, he opened his jaws to gag.

Quintero continued to stroke his head. “It’s over.”

The fire inside him died back, and Angel shifted back to human. He was naked in the hall with Mikhail’s blood covering him. “Are you sure?”

“We’ve gotten all the werewolves from here,” Quintero said softly. He continued stroking Angel’s hair.

The motion helped him relax some, but he was still shaking as his adrenaline left him. He felt empty without his anger fueling his actions.

“Quintero, you need to come in here,” Steph called from the room with the light.

“I’ll be right back.” Quintero started to rise, but Angel caught hold of his hand.

“I’m coming too.” The idea of being left in the hall with Mikhail’s remains was more than he wanted to endure. He’d just proven he was a monster—he needed someone to remind him that he wasn’t.

“Okay.” Quintero helped him to his feet and put an arm around his waist.

Quintero’s warmth against his skin helped ground him, helped keep the heat of the wolf down as they walked into the light. Then he stumbled as Quintero stopped dead in his tracks and swore.

Chapter Twelve

Quintero stared at the blood and fur on the floor of the room he’d just walked into. Tom’s scent filled the place. Fur, not exactly a pelt, but more fur than a wolf would normally shed in a year, lay scattered about the room. There were chunks of bloody meat that smelled of wolf and man. With the dust from the basement and the amount of blood and fur from the werewolves they’d killed, it was impossible for Quintero to get a firm scent from the flesh, but the fur was Tom’s—he had no doubt in his mind.

With a howl of grief, he let go of Angel and dropped to his knees. It looked like Tom and Mikhail had fought before Mikhail and Angel had. That was the only possible explanation, although why none of them had heard anything while they stalked across the park he didn’t know.

He picked up handfuls of fur and rubbed them on his face. He knew Tom’s scent better than his own, and here it was, mingled with blood and death. Mikhail had killed Tom and left nothing behind but scraps. If Mikhail hadn’t lain dead a few feet away, he’d have killed him himself. He wanted vengeance, but with Mikhail dead, he was denied that. He suddenly understood how Angel must have felt when Dustin had died at Tom’s claws from Mikhail’s betrayal.

Without a word, he stood, then ran down the hallway and up the stairs. He jumped the bodies he, Steph, and Clyde had left, then nearly barreled into Wes as he went out into the night. His howl sounded strange coming out of his human throat, but it was cathartic. The lack of streetlights made it better for him as he charged across the park. He slowed as he stumbled into the stream. The cold water splashing up around him made him pause and drop to his knees.

He knelt with the water washing the blood downstream until Angel stepped into the stream next to him. Angel was still naked, still covered in Mikhail’s blood, but it didn’t matter.

He hugged Quintero tightly. “I’m sorry we were too late to save Tom.” He kissed Quintero’s hair, and Quintero howled again.

The fact that he was still human didn’t matter. His human throat wouldn’t be able to express the pain he felt in that moment. When the others joined their voices, both human and wolf, to his grief, he clung to Angel as tight as he could and howled until his throat was raw.

It was nearly an hour later when Quintero walked with Angel back to the truck. They’d washed most of the blood off Angel, and he wanted to get Angel something to wear before he had to explain the naked man he had his arm around. Clyde handed them both clothes from the emergency stash all the pack carried for unexpected changes. Part of Quintero didn’t want to take off the clothes that still had some of Tom’s scent on them, but he knew he needed to be more presentable. Until he made it back to their den to tell Sofia what had happened, he had to become a cop again. The dead werewolves in the stairway and hallway had to be called in. He could put off an official report for a day or two since, as local alpha, he was also the police liaison. All the local precincts had known he was on the hunt for rogue wolves, but he’d have to report on it eventually.

He wasn’t looking forward to telling Sofia what had happened. She’d mourn Tom, the whole pack would, but they would at least have closure. Quintero would do what he could to find the master Mikhail spoke of and make the man, werewolf, or whatever he was, pay for Tom’s death.

Chapter Thirteen

Going back home to face his mother was one of the hardest things Quintero had ever had to do. She deserved to know what happened to Tom, and how he’d been only a few minutes too late to rush in and save him. Quintero was barely able to keep back a fresh wave of tears as he walked into the house and pulled her aside.

“We need to sit down and talk,” he quietly said, forcing the words out between quivering lips.

His mom was shaking as she joined him at the kitchen table. The others stayed away, all except for Angel, who hung close. He still smelled of blood and death, and while that didn’t help anything right then, Quintero did appreciate him being nearby. He needed him close, especially considering the night they’d all had. Angel had come to represent the new that was going to happen in Quintero’s life—he saw that—and saying goodbye to Tom was letting go of the old. He was just happy he’d been able to get Angel to shift several times and heal the gunshot wound. He was a little stiff, but almost perfectly whole again.

“What happened?” she demanded, taking his hands.

Quintero took a deep breath as he struggled to figure out where to start explaining everything that had happened during the night. She deserved the truth, and all of it, but she also deserved to be protected from the blood and gore he’d seen. He wanted to spare her from the worst of the details. “Mom, Tom was there too.” Her expression quickly lit up, and she tightened her hands in his. Quintero knew he had to stop getting her hopes up, especially when the news he was about to deliver was so very dark. “We couldn’t save him. There was a fight and we couldn’t... ” He shook his head. There was nothing more to say, nothing that would change what had been done to his brother. He had all the proof he needed. There was no way anyone could have survived being torn apart like that, werewolf or not.

His mom pulled away from him and began to sob loudly. Quintero hung beside her, wanting to comfort her but not knowing how, until the rest of the pack came closer and joined them in the kitchen. Even Angel, as new as he was to their family, found his place on his knees beside Sofia, looking just as lost as the rest of them as he tried to comfort her.

Quintero leaned over and kissed her cheek, then he took Angel’s hand, bringing him to his feet and leading him away. Angel smelled too much like death right then to be around the rest of them, as good as it was of him to try to help in this helpless situation. With werewolves, the blood scent would agitate more than help. That hadn’t started, but Quintero understood things and knew he had to get Angel out of there before the unstable emotions of grief turned to something more dangerous.

“I want to stay with her,” Angel protested as Quintero began leading him up the stairs.

Quintero was glad that he wanted to, but he shook his head. “You can help when you’re cleaned up. Right now you reek of blood and death, and those aren’t smells we need around her right now. Even my mother can lose control at times and we—she doesn’t need that to happen. Come get a shower, and then we’ll see about the best way for us all to help her. She was devastated after we all finally realized Tom was missing, and somehow I expected this to be some kind of a relief, but it doesn’t seem to be at all. It’s almost if somehow knowing is worse than not knowing.”

He led Angel to the largest bathroom on the second floor. “Here. Get cleaned up. I’ll be back with some clothes for you.” Quintero moved away, but Angel slipped his fingers against his palm.

“Stay with me? I’d like your company right now.”

Angel looked lost and miserable, and Quintero wanted to help him get through this night, even as his own heart was breaking. Angel had killed someone, probably someone he’d thought of as a friend once. Quintero had no idea what he would be going through, but he was sure that leaving Angel alone to handle the night himself wasn’t the right answer. Angel had proven to be part of the pack, and Quintero wanted him to be more than just pack. That meant standing by him.

He gave Angel a nod and slipped into the bathroom with him. “We need to get you cleaned up and presentable to the rest of the pack again.”

“You won’t get any arguments from me there.” Angel gave him a smirk, but it quickly died on his lips, as if Angel wasn’t fully feeling the expression. “Will you tell me about Tom?”

Quintero had gone to turn on the water for Angel, but he paused as he looked back at him. “Why would you want to know about him?”

Angel just shrugged. “Because he was your brother, and he mattered to you. Maybe it’ll help you.”

Quintero really didn’t think anything would help in this situation, but he was willing to indulge Angel’s curiosity for the moment. The idea of sharing some of what had made Tom special to him was appealing. Maybe if he gave a little bit to Angel, more of Tom would be remembered by someone else. He turned the water on, then checked its temperature against his wrist before going back to Angel again. “The shower’s ready for you. Use whatever soaps you want to.”

Angel looked at him uncertainly. “Will you stay in here with me? I’d rather not be alone right now.”

Quintero would do whatever Angel needed him to. As the alpha, his pack and their health, safety, and well-being came first. As new as Angel was to being a werewolf, and to being in their pack at all, Quintero would still take care of him regardless. His growing need for Angel made it that much easier to stay. “I’ll be here for as long as you need.”

Angel nodded and pulled the frosted-glass door closed between them. Quintero watched his shape through the glass and was glad Angel had done so well that night, despite the danger he’d been in and the pain he’d gone through. He was a fighter, a survivor, and he’d proven himself to be a vital member of the pack in the few short hours they’d been out there together.

“I used to think Tom had run away to Alaska or Canada somewhere to live as much like a wild wolf as he could manage. It was something he and I had talked about often. We would’ve never left the pack, but it was nice to daydream about running wild and returning to our roots as wolves, as we used to say. It was a nice fantasy to have, thinking about him taking down a deer all on his own out there somewhere. But that was just wishful thinking.” He knew that, and it was a hard truth to swallow. Whatever Tom had been through over the past year, it had surely been hell to be held captive. Mikhail was gone, but he and Carlos had both talked about a master. Quintero knew he had to find the master and put him down too, but first, he had to help his pack lick their wounds.

Angel pulled the glass door open. “Will you join me? You’re not exactly clean yourself.”

Quintero looked down at the mix of blood and fur on his hands. He’d done his best to get clean, but he’d missed a few spots. Hopefully, his mother hadn’t really noticed. “I’ll wait until you’re done. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Quin,” Angel said as he held out his hand, insisting.

“Quintero,” he corrected him, even as he came closer.

Angel shook his head. “You’re Quin to me. You always will be. Everyone else can have Quintero while I get Quin all to myself.” He smiled. “Or maybe I have to share you with Sofia. I’m okay with that.”

Quintero didn’t really mind the sound of that at all. He joined Angel in the shower, then stepped under the warm spray. Angel was mostly clean, so Quintero wasn’t surprised when he started helping him, but he had to bite his lip to keep from gasping as Angel went to his knees in front of him.

“Angel, get up,” he hissed.

He shook his head and gently began stroking his fingers over Quintero’s soft shaft. “It’s okay. Let me do this for you. We’ve both have a crappy donkey night, and I could really use this, too.”

Quintero understood, and then he nodded. He leaned back against the cool tile and closed his eyes. The warm water splashed over his chest and face, and he sighed as Angel replaced his hands with the heat of his mouth. He was gentle, going slow and taking his time in a way Quintero rarely got to enjoy, even though he definitely appreciated the attention when it happened.

He wanted to tell Angel that he’d really held his own out there tonight, that he was proud of him, but he knew it could all wait until later. This moment was just about reconnecting, and about finding each other. They had all been through a lot, and Quintero needed Angel again. He needed the peace that being with Angel brought him and the feeling of connection that he found in Angel’s arms.

As good as Angel was with his mouth, Quintero couldn’t let him continue on for much longer. Not if he wanted to have Angel with him when he came. He slipped his hand under Angel’s chin, silently telling him he’d had enough, and Angel backed up.

“Did you want something different?” Angel asked. He sounded uncertain and maybe even a little worried.

Quintero shook his head. “No, I just need you.”

Angel gave him a weak smile. He looked tired as he got to his feet. Quintero took him quickly into his arms, holding him close. Even as hard as he was, even as much as he wanted to be inside Angel again, holding him was almost as good. Just feeling him there against him, the steady beating of his heart comforting him, it was enough for him in that moment. He needed to have sex with Angel again, and soon, but he needed Angel himself far more. He wanted them to make good memories, and he wanted to show Angel everything that could be beautiful and wonderful about being a werewolf. There was so much to show him and teach him, and Quintero couldn’t wait to do it all with him soon. Remembering waking up in the forest with him, he promised himself they’d go running again. He knew of quiet secluded spots in the mountains where they could disappear for days and not have to worry about anyone disturbing them.

He slipped his hands down Angel’s stomach, taking the head of his cock between his palm and fingers. Giving him such limited pleasure would take longer, but that only meant that Quintero could hold him for all that time as he stood there slowly dragging his fingers just over the swollen head of Angel’s cock.

“Stroke me,” Angel hissed warmly in his ear.

“No.”

Angel tried to thrust into his hand. He probably didn’t even know what he was doing, since his movement was so jerky and erratic, but Quintero quickly put a stop to that with a firm hand on his butt.

“I want to enjoy you,” Quintero explained as he kneaded Angel’s firm cheek.

“And I want to cum,” Angel protested.

Quintero chuckled, and it felt good to be able to be happy, even for such a brief, fleeting moment, in the face of all the darkness they’d been through lately. “You’ll get your chance. Just hold still for now. Enjoy this.” Quintero kissed him gently and listened to each quiet gasp Angel uttered as he worked his fingers over Angel’s sensitive head.

Angel leaned against him, clutching at him as he began to tremble in Quintero’s hold. “You’re mine,” Quintero whispered. They were more than pack. They were mates. Quintero was done playing with other men. He was done wondering if there was someone out there in the world for him and both looking forward to such a wondrous possibility and also dreading it at the same time. The idea of only being with one man for the rest of his life used to give him anxiety. But realizing he wanted that person to be Angel, he wasn’t worried at all. He was looking forward to running with Angel by his side. He wanted to experience life as a mated werewolf with Angel there with him. His place was in the Front Range Pack with Quintero, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Angel nodded. “I am.” He shuddered and released a loud gasp as his orgasm racked through him, taking him off his feet and into Quintero’s arms. He was still whimpering, still coming down from his pleasurable high, as Quintero backed him up against the tile and lifted Angel’s legs to his chest. He held him there as he pushed into him, making Angel groan even as Quintero tried to keep it together. He knew he wouldn’t be long, not after watching Angel cum so beautifully for him with his hand around his cock. Angel fit so perfectly around him. The feeling of that warmth made Quintero quiver, pushing his need to greater heights.

“I never want you to stop this,” Angel gasped as Quintero struggled to steady his thrusts and not lose himself to his pleasure quite so quickly.

He needed it to last as long as he could possibly make that happen. Quintero kissed him as gently as he could. Angel wasn’t delicate. He’d proven that during the fight more than once. But he was special, and Quintero intended to take good care of him from there on out.

“Will you cum in me again?” Angel asked.

Quintero hadn’t been sure if Angel wanted that or not. Some guys did, some guys were definitely against that. “Do you want me to?”

Angel nodded quickly. “I do.”

It was impossible, after such a short period of time, but Quintero knew he wanted to give Angel whatever he wanted for the rest of their lives. He kissed him again, tasting him and teasing him until Quintero couldn’t take it anymore.

He came with a soft cry against Angel’s lips. Emptying himself deep inside Angel’s tight warmth was so much more intense than it had been in the forest. He wondered for a moment if that was just because he was claiming Angel as his, or if it was going to be the way of it from then on. After he let Angel’s legs down, he held him tightly under the warm spray. “I needed that, thank you.”

“I did too,” Angel said. He was trembling, though from what Quintero had no idea, but he held him until it passed. “I want to do what you do. I want to be a cop,” Angel quietly admitted.

It wasn’t what Quintero had expected him to say right then, or what he would have expected Angel to what to do with the rest of his life, but he was going to be supportive of his new pack member, and his mate, in whatever way possible. “I think you’d make a great cop.”

“Thanks. It would be nice to be great at something.”

Quintero kissed the side of his head, then slowly, reluctantly, led him out of the shower. His life was changing rapidly. He no longer had a brother. He had a mate, someone who wanted to be a true part of his life. With the pack around them, he didn’t doubt that he and Angel were going to do great things, but the first thing they had to do was find the master who’d imprisoned Tom and forced him to turn humans. But with Angel at his side, he had no doubt that he’d get vengeance for his brother.

Downstairs the howls began. Sofia was done with her human mourning and the wolves were letting their voices be heard. He took Angel’s hand. “Let’s shift and join them.” For a little while, it would be good to be in fur, to possibly forget the darkness and embrace the light his other side brought.

About the Authors

Caitlin Ricci

Caitlin is the author of over 150 LGBTQ romance books including two Rainbow Award winners. While most of her books include shifters, she does write a little of everything. She was first published in 2012 and since then hasn’t stopped writing. When she’s not writing she enjoys gardening, hanging out with her dogs, and watching movies with her husband. She is a panromantic asexual and she lives in Centennial, Colorado.

www.caitlinricci.com
authorcaitlinricci@gmail.com

A.J. Marcus

A.J. has been writing to pass the time since high school. The stories he wrote helped him deal with life. A few years ago, he started sharing those stories with friends who enjoyed them and he has started sending his works out into the world to share with other people. He lives in the mountains with his extremely supportive husband. They have a lot of critters, including dogs, cats, birds, horses, and rabbits. When not writing, A.J. spends a lot of time hiking, trail riding, or just driving in the mountains. Nature provides a lot of inspiration for his work and keeps him writing. He is also an avid photographer and falconer. Don’t get him started talking about his birds, because he won’t stop for a while.

Web Contact Info:

Website: www.ajmarcus.com

Email: andy@ajmarcus.com

Twitter: twitter.com/#!/aj_marcus

Facebook: http:// www.facebook.com/authorajmarcus