Page 24 of Lone Wolf
Their squad was scattered around the building, killing time and shooting him dirty looks. He only caught the growl he was making when he turned his head and the echo bounced back to him from the building wall—he’d thought it was all inside his head.
Damian took a deep breath and got to his feet. Fuck this. Fuck it all. And stalked into the hut.
“I lost them because I didn’t want to get shot. In case they thought I was hunting them.” He spat the words out at the DEA guy. “You don’t get to put a value on my life, that’s my job.”
“Your job was to make sure they didn’t leave!” the human yelled, pointing a finger in his face.
Oscar grabbed for the man’s arm, but it was almost like watching slow motion. Damian was up in the man’s face before Oscar could even get a hand on him. “You do it then, since you’re so damn good at it,” he growled.
The stink of fear rolled off the man’s body, then was obliterated by a sharp, violent rage. “You fucking dogs are only good for one thing and you can’t even do that! We hired you because you’re supposed to know how to track and how herd a target!” the man reached for his gun, but Oscar got between them and the next thing Damian knew, he was being dragged backwards out of the hut, his heels scrabbling in the dirt.
They threw him to the ground in the moonlight and he lay there, letting the light soothe him.Father Lysoon, Guardian of Wolves, here this the prayer of your children…Any time he twitched, he heard the subtle clack of weaponry, and so he stayed still and listened for…what? An epiphany? He thought he’d already had it.
In the nighttime quiet, he had to borrow from his wolf to hear what was going on around him. Which was how he heard Oscar say, “We need to give him a break. Shifters are pack animals, they don’t do well on their own. I was looking at the records—”
Then, obviously coming in through the satellite phone, “We can’t have them coming and going and have the Bureau poking its nose in.”
“No, but Sir, if you look at the records, even the most successful ones have never made it past ten years. Not cut off from their packs. You can’t deal with them like humans.”
“If he goes feral, just shoot him. He can always be replaced. It’s not a pleasant part of the job, but far more pleasant than explaining to some nice suburban family why their son or daughter was mauled to death in their bedroom some full moon night.”
Damian stopped listening at that point and wondered if he was going lunar. Or if he was just so lonely it felt like it. Maybe they were the same thing.
He didn’t want to die. But after listening to that call, it didn’t seem like he was going to have much choice.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Ma and I argued for days over my going back into the houses again. “The pheromones won’t work for you,” she’d said, over and over.
“It’s two months, Ma,” I’d countered. “I think I can fake it that long. I did at the beginning of this mess.”
She hadn’t been happy, but I wanted that money and that security. Once I’d had the pup, the pack had offered to replace my wages for six weeks; I guessed they were feeling a bit guilty about the whole thing. Whatever. I wanted my wages replaced at my front of house rates, not my floor staff one.
After that… Hopefully the omega bond would have broken by then and I could get back to business as usual.
So now I was here, in one of the rooms at the Mink, getting new pictures done that would show off the curve of my growing belly and practicing nervously for a new video to put on the website. And Ma was there. Grumpy about it all, but there.
The photographer for the houses was off to the side, fiddling with lights and playing with the way they pointed at the deep blue of the bed cover. Unlike my previous pictures, which had just been me draped over a chair, for these we went with the bed and a massive pile of pillows, with the idea that it would let us make the belly more prominent and increase the number of bookings I might get.
Ma was over in the corner with me, putting a few last touches to the makeup on my face and on my belly.
“Can we turn the air conditioning up?” I asked. “I’m roasting.”
“That’s the baby,” Ma said. “Hold still.”
“I’m still hot,” I mumbled while she did something to my lips.
She threw me a severe look then shook her head and looked over at staff manager for the Mink. “Can you turn the temps down a bit for him? He’s finding it warm.”
“We don’t want goosebumps,” he told her. “They can be fixed in post, but it’s a cost I’ll have to pass on to him.”
Her lips compressed and I put out a hand to stop her before she lambasted the man. “It’s fine. We’re not here long.” I knew she was still upset with my choices—she’d been so proud when I’d been accepted into Silver. But this would do, for the two months it would take me to come up with the purchase price for my apartment. Once I owned that, between the apartment and my prydaya, I was set if I should ever decide to stop working and take a mate.
I could do this.
“Okay,” the photographer called. “Let’s get you set up and we’ll take a few test shots, see if we need to change anything.
I nodded to him and leaned in to give Ma a hug. “Thanks, Ma,” I said with feeling. “I’m lucky to have you. I know this isn’t what you wanted.”
