Bad Moon Rising

"Stay out of it, Fang," Vane said under his breath.



His anger snapping, Fang narrowed his eyes on the Sentinels surrounding Aimee. "It's a threatened female."



"She's not one of ours and we need the bears on our side. You break Omegrion sanctuary laws and they'll refuse to help us. Ever. They'll refuse to help Anya."



Fang heard those words and he was willing to abide by them. His sister was the most important thing. . . .



Until he saw the knife.



Vane cursed as he saw it too. Anya or not, it wasn't in their nature to let that go and since the bears seemed to be in over their furry little heads . . .



Vane's hazel gaze locked with Fang's. "I have the asshole in front, you take the one with the woman."



Fury lowered his head in agreement to their suicide run. "We've got your backs."



Vane inclined his head before they teleported to the fight.







* * *







Aimee considered the consequences of head-butting the jackal holding her. But he kept the knife tight to her throat, preventing it. She'd cut her own jugular if she even tried. She looked at her brothers and father, all of whom were standing back, too afraid to move for fear of causing her harm.



Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. She couldn't stand being helpless. The bear in her wanted to taste jackal blood regardless of what it cost her. Even death. But the human side of her knew better.



It wasn't worth the chance.



The jackal grabbed her by the hair and pressed the knife even closer. "Tell us where Constantine is. Now! Or else her blood flows like the mighty Niagara."



Papa opened his mouth, but before he could speak something snatched the knife away from her throat.



Aimee cursed as her head was snapped back and her hair wrenched. Unbalanced, she fell to the floor and landed on her stomach. Sounds exploded all around her as the jackals were quickly and painfully brought down by the wolves. Rubbing her throat where the knife had been, she looked to the jackal who'd been holding her.



Fang had him on the ground, slamming his head repeatedly against the floor as hard as he could. It was as if he were possessed by something that demanded he kill the jackal with his bare hands.



Blood covered both of them.



"Fang!" Vane shouted, pulling him away. "He's out of it."



Growling, Fang rose only to kick the jackal in the ribs. "Cowardly bastard. Pull a knife on a woman." He started back for his victim, but Vane caught him.



"Enough!"



Fang shrugged his brother off before he turned to her with a look so anguished and tormented that it stole her breath. What demon had its spurs sunk deep into his soul? Something tragic lay behind that kind of pain.



It had to.



He turned for the jackal.



Vane spread his arms out to capture him. "He's down. Let it go."



Growling in true wolf fashion, Fang pushed past his brother. "I'll wait outside."



Before Vane could catch him, he got one last kick on the jackal's head on his way to the door.



Fury laughed at Fang's action as he twisted the arm of the jackal he held. "I really should break you in two. It might not brighten your day, but it would definitely make mine."



Vane shook his head at Fang's actions and Fury's words. Turning to Papa, he made his way slowly toward them. "Sorry we broke the covenant." He held money out to Dev. "We'll leave and never come back."



Papa pushed the money back toward Vane. "You don't have to leave. It was my daughter you saved. Thank you for what you did. So long as we have shelter, you have shelter." That was the highest honor a Were-Hunter could bestow on another. It was their oldest saying and only offered to another species as a show of eternal friendship.



No, more like kinship.



Vane seemed abashed by it.



Aimee watched as her family took the jackals from the wolves and led them away, no doubt to give them an even harsher ass-whipping out of sight of the humans.



"Are you all right?" Remi asked her as he helped her to her feet.



She nodded.



He glared at the one Fang had thrashed, who was still lying on the floor in a bloody heap. "Good, 'cause I'm going to skin me a jackal when he wakes up."



Aimee folded her arms over her chest. "I think the wolf already did."



"Yeah, but it's not good enough. I'm going to add my own head pounding to him. That boy will have bear nightmares for the rest of his life . . . which just might prove to be a lot shorter than he ever dreamed."



Normally Aimee would have smarted back at him, but right now she was as shaken as the rest of them. It was rare anyone got the drop on her family, especially Dev, who was renowned for his fighting prowess. Never in all these centuries had she seen anyone pin him before.



A little beating on the jackals might go a long way in ensuring this never happened again. "What about the humans?"



Papa jerked his chin toward the tall blond who was walking around the crowd. "Max is wiping them even as we speak. It's why they didn't scream or move when the jackals attacked you. He heard the commotion and popped in."



She let out a relieved breath. Maxis was a dragonwere who had the ability to replace human memories. It was one of the reasons they kept him here even though it was hard to accommodate his large dragon form. His talents came in handy at times such as this and it meant they didn't have to kill humans who witnessed things they weren't supposed to know about.



"Should we go get Fang?" Keegan asked Vane as they started past her.



"Let him calm down first. We don't need him starting another fight."



Aimee held her hand out to Vane. "Thanks for the assist. I really appreciate it."



He shook her hand gently. "Anytime."



She smiled up at him and gestured with her thumb toward the kitchen. "I'll go put your orders in and have them out shortly."



Her father inclined his head to Vane. "And don't worry, it's on the house. Whatever you wolves need, just let us know."



"Thank you," Vane said as he led his wolves back to their table.



Dev grinned at her. "Never thought I'd say this about any canine species, but I think I like that group."



Aimee didn't comment as she headed to the kitchen where her mother was waiting.



Her features stern, Maman stepped aside to let her pass. "Constantine sits on the Omegrion as their Arcadian Grand Regis. I don't know him well, however I think we should find him and tell him where his friends are being kept-just to level the field a bit since they seem so eager to meet up with him."



It was a subtle way for Maman to say that she wanted the jackals dead and to be able to justify it to the Omegrion should anyone question her. After all, if the jackals were hunting Constantine so ferociously, it was only fair he know about it.



Aimee might have argued it was a harsh sentence, but given what the jackals had done to her, she was in the same sporting mood as her mother. "I'm sure Dev can arrange that."



Her mother's eyes darkened. "No one threatens my cubs. Are you truly all right, cherie?"



"I'm fine, Maman. Thanks to the wolves."



Maman patted her lightly on the arm before she headed back to her office.



Aimee went over to where a rare steak was already up on the order shelf. Handing her orders over to their cooks, she took the plate and grabbed a beer for Fang as she passed by the bar. "I'll be back in a few."



Her older brother Zar, who looked a lot like Dev with short hair, only taller and broader, stopped her. "Are you all right?"



At this point, that question was getting old. She wasn't a fragile doll that would break at the slightest wrong twist. She was a bear with all the strength and abilities inherent in their species. Her family, however, tended to forget that fact. "A little shaken and a lot of pissed off. I don't like anyone getting the drop on me the way the jackals did. But I'm fine now."



A muscle ticked in his jaw, showing her the anger he kept hidden underneath his calm exterior. "I'm sorry we didn't get to you faster."



Those words were haunting as they stirred memories inside her she didn't want to remember. "Really, it's okay, Zar. I'd much rather be the one threatened than to see you hurt." Again. She left that one word unspoken as she saw her own painful memories mirrored in the horror of his gaze.



It was a past they never talked about, but one that scarred them all.



"I love you, Zar."



He offered her a hollow smile before he moved away so that he could continue tending the bar.



Aimee headed out the back door to the alley and then across the street to where Fang was sitting on the sidewalk, waiting for the others. His features troubled, he reminded her of a lost child. Something completely incongruous with his tougher-than-steel aura. Not to mention his prowess at taking down her attacker without even scratching her. His speed and strength were unrivaled and frightening.



Even though he must have used his powers to remove the blood from his clothes, she remembered well the way he'd trounced the jackal.



But what surprised her most was the fact that she wasn't repulsed by his violence. Normally such overkill would have had her showing him the door.



Then again, she'd been the one with the knife at her throat. Personally, she'd like to kick the jackal around a bit herself. Yeah, that had to be it. She was too grateful to him to be angered over his actions.



Fang shot to his feet as soon as he saw her.



For some reason she couldn't name, she was suddenly nervous and self-conscious as she approached him. Hesitant even.



How unlike her. She was always icy cold around men, especially when they were from another species. But with Fang . . .



There was just something different.



Fang swallowed as he saw Aimee pause across the street. She was even more beautiful in the daylight than she'd been inside the dark club. The sunlight sparkled in her hair, turning it into spun gold and making his palm itch to touch its softness. She had to be freezing. All she had on was a thin Sanctuary T-shirt.



He shrugged his jacket off as she finally neared him.



"I wanted to say thank-you again," she said, her voice low and sweet. She scowled as he draped his jacket around her thin shoulders.



Fang lowered his head sheepishly as he realized why it bothered her. "I know I smell like a wolf, but it's too cold to be out here bare-armed."



She frowned even more as she looked at his arms. "You're wearing a T-shirt too."



"Yeah, but I'm used to being outside." He took the food from her. "So I take it I didn't get us banned after all."



She smiled, showing him that beckoning dimple that he would kill to kiss. "Far from it. Anyone who fights for us is always welcome here."



His features relieved, he nodded. "Good. I was afraid I'd have to listen to Vane's shi-stuff for the next few centuries."



Aimee stifled a laugh at the way he caught himself before he cussed in front of her. It was very sweet and charming and also unexpected. "You're not like other wolves, are you?"



He swallowed a drink of beer straight out of the bottle. "How do you mean?"



"I've never been around wolves who were so . . ."



He arched a brow as if daring her to insult him.



"Mannered."



Fang laughed, a warm, rich sound that lacked any hint of mockery. The expression softened his features, making him even more gorgeous and intriguing. And for some reason, she couldn't quite take her gaze off his well-sculpted arms as they flexed with every move he made. He had the best biceps she'd ever seen.



"Our sister's doing," he said after he swallowed a bite. "She has codes we have to follow and Vane enforces them to please her."



"But you don't like them?" There'd been a note in his voice as he spoke.



He didn't answer as he cut the steak with his fork.



Aimee gestured back toward the bar. "You want to eat that inside with the rest?"



"Nah. I don't like being indoors and I can't stand most of them anyway." He jerked his chin toward the saloon-styled door where Dev was standing guard again. "You should probably go back though. I'm sure your brother doesn't want you out here consorting with dogs."



"You're not a dog," she said emphatically, surprised that she actually meant it. An hour ago, she'd have been the one to hurl that insult at him and the rest of his pack.



Now . . .



He truly wasn't like the others and she really wanted to stay out here with him.



Go, Aimee.



She took a step away before she remembered that she wore his jacket. Pulling it off, she held it out to him. "Thanks again."



Fang couldn't speak as he watched her cross the street and head back into the bar. As he held his jacket against his chest, her scent hit him full force with a wave so strong he wanted to howl from it. Instead, he buried his face against the collar where her scent was the strongest. Inhaling deep, he felt his body harden to a level it had only done for one other female. . . .



He winced as old memories tore through him.



Even though they hadn't been mates, Stephanie had been his entire world.



And she'd died in his arms from a brutal attack.



That memory shattered the heat in his blood and brought him back to reality with a fierce reminder of how dangerous their existence was. It was why that jackal was lucky to be alive. The one thing Fang couldn't stomach was to see a woman threatened, never mind harmed.



Any creature cowardly enough to prey on a woman deserved the most brutal death imaginable. And if it was delivered to him by Fang's hand, then all the better.



Shrugging his jacket on, he picked up his plate and returned to eating.



Once he was finished, he took the dishes to Dev who thanked him again for saving Aimee.



"You know for a wolf, you don't really stink."



Fang snorted. "And for a bear you don't chafe my ass."



Dev laughed good-naturedly. "You going back inside?"



"No. I'd rather stay out and freeze my ass off."



"I hear ya. I like it better outside myself. Too human in there for me."



Fang inclined his head, surprised that the bear understood. Anya had made him human enough, he didn't want any more housebreaking than that. Tucking his hands in his pockets, he headed back to the bikes to wait.







Aimee went outside at Dev's insistent grumblings that kept coming in through the earpiece she wore-all the staff wore them so that the Were-Hunters could appear more human whenever they used their powers to communicate with each other.



"What?" she snapped in the doorway.



He held out an empty plate and beer bottle.



"Oh." She stepped forward to take them from his grasp. Unbidden her gaze went to Fang who was again sitting on the ground with his legs bent and his arms draped over them while he leaned against an old hitching post.



There was something very feral and masculine about that pose. Something about it that made her heart quicken.



He's not the same species, girl. . . .



Yet it didn't matter to her hormones. Gorgeous was gorgeous, regardless of breed or type.



Yeah, that was what she was reacting to. It was nothing more than the fact he was an exceptional specimen of male physiology.



"Something wrong?"



She blinked and looked at Dev who was watching her. "No, why?"



"I dunno. You have this dopey kind of expression that I've never seen from you before."



She made a sound of abrupt disgust. "I don't look dopey."



He snorted. "Yes, you do. Get to a mirror and check it. It's really scary. I definitely wouldn't let Maman see that."



She rolled her eyes at him. "This from a bear who got his ass kicked by a jackal?"



His eyes flared. "I was preoccupied by the knife at your throat."



She gave an exaggerated laugh. "You were on the ground and pinned before I was held."



He started to argue, then stopped. He looked around as if afraid someone might have overheard her. "You think anyone else remembers that part?"



"Depends." She gave him a calculating stare. "How much you gonna pay me to back your version?"



His look turned charming and sweet. "I pay you in love, precious little sister. Always."



She scoffed at his offer. "Love don't pay the rent, baby. Only cold hard cash."



He gaped, his expression one of total offense as he held his hand over his heart as if she'd wounded him. "You really turning mercenary on your favorite older brother?"



"No. I would never do that to Alain."



"Ouch!" Dev shook his hand as if he'd burned it. "Bearswan got 'tude."



Laughing, she stepped out to give him a quick hug. "Don't worry, big bro, your secret's safe with me so long as you don't annoy me too much."



He tightened his arms around her and held her close. "You know I love you, sis."



"I love you too." And she did. In spite of their disagreements and quarrels, her family meant everything to her. Stepping away, she turned to glance one last time at Fang. Most likely she'd never see him again. A common occurrence really for their clientele and yet for some reason this time that thought hurt deep inside her.



I have lost what three brain cells I have. . . . Bear, get your butt back to work and forget about him.







Fang stood up as he saw the pack leaving the bar. Vane was the first to reach him.



"Here." Vane tossed him his backpack, then handed him a bag of something sweet and rich. "The bearswan wanted to make sure you got that for Anya. She said there was something in there for you too."



That shocked him completely. No one ever gave him gifts. "For me?"



Vane shrugged. "I don't understand bear thought processes. Most days I barely understand ours."



Fang had to give him that-he didn't understand it either. He tucked the sack into his backpack as the rest of the wolves took up their bikes and headed out. They were silent the entire way back to the bayou where they'd made camp for their females to deliver their pups in peace and protection.



As soon as they'd returned, their father met them in his wolf form. Markus shifted into a human just to sneer at them.



"What took you women so long to return?"



As Fang opened his mouth to smart off, Vane shot him a warning glare. "I toured the clinic and have the contact information should any of our females require help."



Markus curled his lip. Even though he'd sent them there, he had to be an asshole. "In my day we let the wolfswans incapable of birthing our young die."



Fang snorted. "Then it's a good thing we're in the twenty-first century and not the Dark Ages, isn't it?"



Vane shook his head while their father growled at him as if about to attack.



This time Fang refused to back down. "Try it, old man," he said, using a term he knew infuriated his father since Katagaria despised their human natures. "And I'll rip out your throat and usher in a new age of leadership to this pack."



He could see the desire in Markus's eyes to press the issue, but his sire wolf knew what he did. In a fight, Fang would win.



His father wasn't the same wolf who'd killed his own brother to be Regis of their pack. He was weak with age and knew that he didn't have many more years left before either Fang or Vane took over.



One way or another.



Fang preferred it to be over the old man's dead body. But other arrangements would work for him too.



It was another reason their sire hated them. He knew his prime was past and they were only coming into their own.



Markus narrowed his gaze threateningly. "One day, whelp, you're going to cross me and your brother won't be here to stop me from killing you. When that day comes, you better pray for salvation."



Fang's look turned evil. "I don't need salvation. There's not a wolf here I couldn't wipe my ass on. You know it. I know it and most important, they all know it."



Vane arched a brow at his comment as if taunting him to prove those words.



Fang gave him a lopsided grin. "You don't count, brother. I think more of you than to even try."



Markus raked them with a repugnant twist to his lips. "You both sicken me."



Fang snorted. "It's what I live for . . . Father." He couldn't resist using the title he knew made the old fart seethe. "Your eternal disgust succors me like mother's milk."



Markus turned back into a wolf and bounded off.



Vane turned on him. "Why do you do that?"



"Do what?"



"Piss off everyone you come into contact with? Just once, couldn't you keep your mouth shut?"



Fang shrugged. "It's a skill."



"Well, it's one I wish you'd unlearn."



Fang let out an irritated breath at the constant bitch-topic that had grown old three hundred years ago. He wasn't the kind of wolf to suck it up. Rather he gave as good as he got, and most times he gave better. "Against the grain is the only way. Stop being such an old woman." He turned and headed for the edge of camp where Anya had chosen to den with her mate Orian.



Fang always had to bite his tongue around them. He hated the wolfswain the Fates had picked for his sister. She deserved so much better than that half-wit, but unfortunately, that wasn't in their hands. The Fates chose their partners and they could either submit or the male would live out his life completely impotent, the woman infertile.



To save their species, most accepted whatever abysmal mate the Fates assigned them. In the case of his parents, his mother had refused and now his father was left impotent and perpetually pissed off.



Not that Fang blamed the old man for that. He'd probably be insufferable too if he had to go centuries without sex. But that was the only part of his father he understood. The rest of the wolf was a complete mystery to him.



Luckily Anya's mate wasn't with his sister. Anya was lying down on the grass in the fading sunlight, her eyes barely open as a light breeze stirred her soft white fur. Her belly was swollen and he could see her pups moving inside her.



It was pretty much gross, but he wouldn't insult her by telling her that.



"You're back."



He smiled at her soft voice in his head. "We are and . . ." He held the bag out toward her.



She sat up immediately and trotted over to him. "What did you bring?" She nosed at the sack as if trying to see through it with her snout.



Fang sat down and opened the sack to see what Aimee had given them. The moment he did, his heart quickened. She'd thrown in two steaks, baklava, beignets, and cookies. There was also a small note in the bottom.



He dug out the cookies and held them for Anya while he read Aimee's flowing cursive.











I really appreciate what you did and I hope your sister enjoys her food. Brothers like you should always be treasured. Anytime you need a steak, you know where we are.











He didn't understand why such a short, innocuous note touched him, but it did. He couldn't help smiling at it as an image of her drifted through his mind.



Stop being a head case.



Yeah, something was definitely wrong with him. Maybe he needed to see one of those pet psychics or something. Or maybe have Vane give him a sharp kick to the hindquarters.



"Do I smell bear?"



He tucked the note into his pocket. "It's from the Sanctuary staff."



She shook her head and sneezed on the ground. "Gah, could they stink any worse?"



Fang had to disagree. He didn't smell bear, he only smelled Aimee and it was a delectable scent. "They probably think the same about us."



Anya paused to look up at him. "What did you say?"



Fang cleared his throat as he realized how out of character it was for him to defend another species. "Nothing."



She licked his fingers as he held out more cookies for her.



A shadow fell over them. Looking up, he saw Vane standing there with a stern frown.



"Shouldn't it be her mate doing that for her?"



Fang shrugged. "He was always a selfish asshole."



Anya nipped hard at his fingers. "Careful, brother, that's the sire of my pups you're talking about."



Fang scoffed at her protective tone. "One chosen by a trio of psycho bitches who-ow!" He jumped as Anya sank her teeth deep into the fleshy part of his hand. He cursed as he saw the blood dripping from the wound she'd given him.



She narrowed her gaze. "Again, he's my mate and you will respect him."



Vane cocked him on the back of his head. "Boy, don't you ever learn?"



Fang bit his lip to keep from snapping at both of them. He hated how they treated him like their mentally defective distant relation. As if his opinions didn't matter. Anytime he opened his mouth, one of them told him to shut it.



Honestly, he was more than tired of their treatment. All they saw him as was the muscle they needed. A loaded gun to be used against their enemies. The rest of the time, they wanted him kept in a box, completely silent and unobtrusive.



Whatever.



Changing into a wolf, he left them before he said something they'd all regret.



But one day . . .



One day he was going to let them know just how tired he was of being their omega wolf.







Aimee paused at the table where the wolves had been. In the corner was a pair of discarded sunglasses. She bent down and picked them up only to catch a whiff of the owner.



Fang.



A slight smile hovered at the edges of her lips as she remembered the way he'd looked leaning back in his chair. Relaxed and lethal.



"What's that?"



She jumped as Wren spoke right behind her. Looking at him over her shoulder, she smiled at the young tigard. Handsome and lean, he had long blond dreadlocks with bangs that fell across his eyes, shielding them from the world. She was one of the very few people he ever spoke to.



She held up the sunglasses so that he could see. "One of the wolves left them."



He scratched at his whiskered cheek. "You want me to put them in lost and found?"



"It's okay. I'll do it."



He nodded before he moved on to bus another table.



Aimee closed her eyes and held the sunglasses tight. As she did so, she saw a perfect image of Fang in wolf form running through the swamp.



Someone sneezed.



She jerked, looking around quickly in fear of someone catching her using a power that no one knew she held. It was something only the most powerful of Aristi could wield and the fact that she had it . . .



It was as much a danger to her as a gift.



And it was a power that had cost two of her brothers their lives. For that reason alone, she could never allow anyone to know what she could do.



But today those powers weren't scary. They would allow her to find Fang and return his property to him. She checked the watch on her wrist.



In thirty minutes she'd be free to take a break and then she'd find the wolf. . . .







Aimee paused next to the cypress tree that jutted out of the water and twisted up toward the sky. The setting sun fanned around the branches, casting a majestic glow as it also reflected the cypress against the rippling black water. It was eerie and beautiful. Haunting.



Even though they'd lived in New Orleans for more than a century, she'd never spent much time in the swamp or bayous. She'd forgotten how beautiful they could be.



Smiling at the image, she manifested her camera and started photographing it. There was nothing she loved more than capturing nature in its purest forms.



Completely captivated by the complexity of the light playing against the tree, she stopped paying attention to her surroundings. The world faded away as she moved in a large circle, tilting the camera for better angles.



The murky water sloshed around her feet as she moved. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a bird take flight. She turned to catch that as well, but as she moved, she heard something. . . .



A low, fierce growl.



Before she could react, a wolf attacked her.