Coyote's Mate

CHAPTER 9

Del-Rey stood at the bar and watched his mate. She wasn’t wearing the black silk he’d bought her and sent to her the month before, though he’d heard she’d definitely claimed it and thanked the Breed that delivered it nicely.

No, his fiery-haired mate was dressed in sapphire blue silk that made every cell in his body ache to feel her rubbing against him again. The bodice cupped and held her breasts like a lover, hugged her trim waist and hips before flowing around her legs.

There was some kind of burgundy trim at the bodice and the straps that went over her slender shoulders. A burgundy wrap had been given to the doorman earlier along with a tiny matching purse.

His coya was exquisite. She moved like a flame, danced over his lusts like a tempting promise held just out of reach.

He glanced over to Brim, with whom Ashley was flirting outrageously. When had his female Breeds learned how to flirt? He would have shaken his head, but it would have indicated his confusion. Never show weakness, he reminded himself as he collected his whiskey and a glass of wine for his mate.

Striding back to her, he hid his smile. She watched him, no matter where he moved. His mate was jealous. Enraged with it. It indicated more than a surface lust, and he craved her emotions as much as he craved her body.

“For me?” She reached out and took his whiskey. “Thank you.”

He watched, cock throbbing, his senses suddenly heightening further as she sipped the smooth whiskey without a grimace. Hell, he should have known better. She had drunk vodka with the same relish at several of their meetings and laughed at him the first time he’d shown his surprise.

As she sipped, she let her gaze slip along the room. A dance floor was set off to the side, and a band was easing into a slow, seductive tune as waiters worked to clear the tables of dinner dishes.

Del-Rey handed the glass of wine to a nearby waiter and turned back to Anya, his fingers covering hers, surprising her, surprising himself. He pulled the glass she held to his lips, tipped it and finished it for her. His lips covered the spot hers had, and he swore he could taste her on the glass.

The sweet taste of her pussy was still in his senses, tempting his tongue. The need to lay her back and lick her slowly and thoroughly was nearly overwhelming. Anger or not, he’d show her, prove to her the pleasure he could give her. He had but one goal. To wipe the memory of that first time out of her mind and replace it with the ecstasy he knew would grip both of them.

Her brow lifted as he finished her drink; her blue eyes sparkled with the challenge. Then she licked her lower lip slowly. “Very practiced,” she murmured. “Who taught you that?”

The clear little jibe pricked, but he shook it off easily enough.

“I had to be taught?” he asked her, moving closer as he took the glass and set it on the table beside her.

“I would imagine,” she drawled, “if you’ve learned moves like that, then someone must have taught them to you.”

Damn her. He should have known she’d pick the worst possible place to tempt him.

His jaw clenched at the memory of that afternoon’s pleasure, and need burned inside him like wildfire.

“That didn’t count,” he assured her, lowering his head to her ear, letting his cheek rub against hers. “Just because I lost control then doesn’t mean I will now.”

“A loss of control?” she murmured. “An interesting excuse.”

She shifted, her breasts brushing against the front of his tux as she spoke. “I don’t remember any reports of sexual training for the Coyote Breeds. Maybe you really just didn’t know any better.”

She was deliberately challenging him and he loved it. She wasn’t going to ask him for anything.

She was pushing him, daring him without saying the words. Pushing to see if he was worthy of her. Damn her, she was invading his soul.

“A man doesn’t need training to know how to touch his woman,” he finally stated, allowing his hand to rest against her hip, his senses to inhale her scent. “But remember, Mate, I was out of those labs for a hell of a lot of years. Trust me, I know well how to please you.”

She stiffened at the reminder. He could feel the fine tension radiating through her.

“Took advantage of it, did you?” she asked. “Perhaps that was where I made my mistake. I didn’t take advantage of any chances I may have had. Maybe I should have gained the experience you didn’t take the time to show me.”

His teeth clenched. He loosened them to nip her ear.

“I would have ripped out the throat of any bastard who touched you.”

“Would you?” Her hand settled on his arm as his fingers tightened on her hip. “You wouldn’t have known.”

“I would have,” he whispered against her ear. “I would have known. And I would have killed.”

“You’re rather handy at the killing part,” she snorted, pulling back from him, the deep blue of her eyes peeking up through her lashes. “Tell me, Del-Rey, how many times have you used the freedom of the hormonal therapy to touch another woman?”

“This is the wrong place to push me, Anya,” he warned her. “Don’t make the mistake of believing a public event would stop me from throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you out of here. I will. And once we’re back in that limo, I promise you, you’ll learn to not defy me in such a way again.”

Her lips twitched. Sweet, pouty lips. They glistened as though a layer of dew had been laid to them. He was so damned hungry for her kiss that the glands beneath his tongue were now twice their size. He wanted nothing more than to pump it between those lush lips again, feel her suckling at it, meeting and stroking it.

“Del-Rey,” she murmured, her fingers tightening on his arm. “What do you think you’ll gain by wining and dining me at this very social event?” She looked around the room before her gaze returned to his. “Do you think this is going to keep me in your bed?”

He let his lips curl suggestively. “Actually, I was more concerned about keeping the bars safe tonight. I hear the last time you visited one, the accounts in the Coyote coffers dipped drastically to pay for the damages caused.”

She blinked back at him, and he had to applaud how well she kept her expression clear and composed.

“A total misunderstanding.” She sighed dramatically as she waved her free hand. “I didn’t start that fight. I was just there.”

He laid his forehead against hers, moving closer. “You broke a whiskey bottle over that cowboy’s head. He was in the hospital for several days. I believe Sharone made another sing a high note when she stomped his testicles, and Ashley pulled a swath of hair from another woman’s head.

Coya, I’ve been regaled by tales of the exploits the four of you have managed in the past eight months. Just because Sharone didn’t report it didn’t mean I didn’t hear about it. I’m amazed you weren’t locked up for your own safety, let alone the safety of the public in general.”

She rolled her eyes at him. Eyes that were brilliant, highlighted by cosmetics, tempting and mysterious.

“Everyone survived intact.” She shrugged.

“It won’t happen again. It goes on my list of rules to be followed,” he informed her. “Your safety is not to be risked, in any way.”

She frowned, her eyes glittering with irritation now. “Well hell, Del-Rey, why don’t you just lock me up in a padded room and hand-feed me?” she snapped. “Get over yourself and get a clue. I don’t need your permission any more than you obviously need mine to bring another woman to my bedroom. Consider it a trade-off for all those hours Sofia enjoyed your very manly body.”

With that, she jerked away from him, moving smoothly, gracefully, to the small bar that had been set up. Her soldiers followed her, including Ashley, who somehow managed to drop the dumb-blonde act she was giving Brim long enough to realize her coya was no longer with her alpha.

Del-Rey exhaled roughly as his lieutenant moved to him slowly.

“We could make dungeons in the lower caverns,” Brim said thoughtfully. “We could lock all four of them up in them.”

Del-Rey grunted at the observation. “They’d find a way out.”

Anya ordered vodka and sipped at it with an expression of pleasure.

“Have you learned anything during the vastly unentertaining hours that the good city council has spent attempting to show their appreciation of the animals that funded their new school?” Del-Rey asked.

They were there for more than food and drinks. The reports Del-Rey had brought with him linked that Breed drug to Advert and one of the soldiers who had worked at Haven a year ago.

“Not a lot.” Brim shook his head. “The others aren’t learning much either. Mayor Raines is still grieving for his daughter. It seems there’s still no information as to why she disappeared during that attack eight months before.”

Jessica Raines hadn’t disappeared, except from sight. The secured cells in the mountain that rose above Haven had been her new home since the attack she had participated in.

Del-Rey let his gaze wander around the room again. “We have five pack leaders here. Wolfe Gunnar and his mate. Hawke Sanders. Dash Sinclair, his wife and daughter. Myself and my coya.

Jacob and his mate. Only Aiden and his pregnant mate, Charity, aren’t in attendance. You have near the full Wolf and Coyote Breed cabinets and their families in attendance and a lot of social pressure to get them here.”

The others were aware of that as well. Each Breed in the room was on high alert, prepared for trouble. Del-Rey could almost feel that trouble brewing, like a storm easing in, trying to slip up on them.

“Sentries outside aren’t reporting anything suspicious,” Brim murmured. “I can feel the tension, Del, but I can’t figure out where the hell it’s coming from.”

“Any further information from Sanctuary on the drug situation?” Del-Rey asked.

Brim shook his head. “Nothing new so far. We know the drugs went out with specific individuals in mind, but no names. Sanctuary has their own men watching the pharmaceutical and research company involved, but they don’t have much. Plenty of suspicion, not enough to prosecute.”

“Jonas Wyatt is waiting for evidence?” Del-Rey grunted. “That’s a new one.”

“He has a new secretary,” Brim explained. “I think he’s afraid to make a trip to that volcano until he’s certain she knows how to keep her mouth shut.”

In other words, the new secretary Merinus Lyons had hired had the security of knowing Jonas couldn’t fire or kill her. Del-Rey was betting Jonas was loving that one. Breed enemies had a habit of disappearing, proof or no proof. And Del-Rey knew there were several particular volcanoes that had been receiving more than their fair share of human sacrifices over the years since Wyatt had achieved directorship of the Bureau of Breed Affairs.

“Jonas, with said secretary in tow, will be arriving at Haven again tomorrow,” Del-Rey stated.

“She’s breeding. You can smell the scent of the child she’s carrying. I can’t believe Prima Lyons hired a pregnant female to work for Wyatt. It’s certain to scar the poor kid before it’s even born.”

Brim nodded. “Hell, he should send her to Sanctuary. A breeding female has no place around any of us. Even our own females. Our lives are too dangerous.”

With that, Brim strolled away, moving about the room once again as Del-Rey checked for the feel of the weapons he carried beneath his tux. The city council had asked that they come unarmed. They had come with their weapons hidden instead. Unarmed was undefended. Del-Rey went nowhere undefended. Especially where his coya was concerned.

Del-Rey caught Sharone’s eye, gave her a silent signal to make certain Anya stayed close to the three of them, then moved to where Mayor Timothy Raines was holding court across the ballroom.

Raines wasn’t a man that Del-Rey could make himself like. He was deceitful. His blue gray eyes barely hid his malicious-ness, but there was no hiding it from Breed senses. Del-Rey could smell it, a subtle acrid stench that sickened him.

“Ah, Pack Leader Delgado.” Timothy gave him a twisted little smile as he moved toward the group. “Join us. We were just discussing those nasty tabloid stories that are making the rounds again. Really. You’d think if Breeds were so animalistic, they would have never achieved human status.” There was the barest sneer in Timothy’s voice.

Del-Rey lifted his brow. “I don’t read the tabloids, I’m afraid. What are they saying now? Are we eating our meat raw again? Howling at the moon?”

“Knotting your females,” one of the men said and snickered with avid curiosity. “Turning them into nymphomaniacs with some kind of hormonal release from a kiss.”

Avid eyes latched onto him as he scratched his cheek, as though in confusion. Breeds didn’t deny the mating heat, but they didn’t admit to it either.

“They’re still harping on that?” He grinned. “From what I understand there were several of our Breed males that volunteered to prove differently. Did that ever happen?”

Del-Rey knew it had. Some of the younger male Breeds had publicly named lovers for several journalists. It had stopped the rumors for a while.

“That doesn’t stop the gossip,” the gray-haired public works manager chuckled. “Your genetics are still a mystery to too many folks, Delgado. Makes you good gossip fodder.”

Del-Rey shrugged. “Whatever works for them. It does keep the women interested in us though.

I’m sure quite a few of our males appreciate that.”

The men laughed, then looked around as though making certain none of their women were listening. It was amusing at times, and at others offensive. Del-Rey could imagine the furor that would erupt if the world learned the truth. That only with certain women did their animalistic nature show itself, and when it did, for now, there was no permanent escape from it.

Del-Rey caught the mayor’s gaze once more.

“Mayor Raines, when you have a chance, I’d like to discuss the request you put into the Coyote Cabinet last month.”

Timothy’s gaze sharpened, too much, and Del-Rey swore he caught the scent of death on the man. The request was to assign several Coyote males to the local police department and as security guards at city hall.

The little town outside Haven’s boundaries wasn’t large; it hadn’t attained the popularity of Sanctuary’s neighboring town, Buffalo Gap. He wanted to know what made Mayor Raines believe they needed the advanced talents of the Coyote Breeds for any security.

Raines’s gaze moved around the room before a smile shaped his lips. “I didn’t mean to bother you with that decision, Alpha Delgado,” he apologized with the utmost insincerity. “I assumed the lower members of the cabinet would take care of that.”

“There are no lower members of the Coyote Cabinet,” Del-Rey informed him. “I’m but one of six pack leaders, Mayor. Each of us chairs the cabinet.”

“Every army has a general, Delgado,” Raines laughed. “You head it, correct?”

As he did, by strength and by will. That didn’t make any of the others below him, they were his equal, they merely chose to follow him.

“Incorrect, Mayor, but we can discuss that as well when you get a moment. As you’re busy tonight, we could meet in the Coyote base sometime this week if you prefer. I’d like to see the proposal you promised the cabinet.”

Something flashed in Raines’s gaze. Something triumphant, certainly dangerous. “I’ll be sure to do that.” He nodded. “I’ll call soon.”

Like hell. Del-Rey made his excuses and moved from the group. He lifted his wrist and spoke into the small mic beneath the cuff of his tuxedo jacket. “We’re going to have problems. I suggest an exodus.”

“Grounds?” Wolfe murmured into the earpiece Del-Rey wore.

“Instinct, use yours. I’m getting my people out.”

He nodded to Brim and headed for the bar, where Sharone and the other females surrounded Anya, their expressions filling with dangerous tension.

Ashley shifted, hiding the fact that she had reached to the holster strapped to the inside of her thigh and the small handgun she carried there. Sharone was blocking any access to the side and Emma was covering her back.

“This one stays.”

Del-Rey heard the bartender’s voice, dark, ugly with menace through the bodyguards’ comm links.

Emma turned to Del-Rey, her expression icy, and mouthed, Weapon on coya.

“We have a weapon on my coya,” he announced into the mic. “Get your women the fuck out of here.”

He moved for the bar, aware of Brim striding quickly toward it and a young Breed, Carlen, moving for the females. The Breed was Wolf. He wasn’t Coyote, nor was he one of the Wolves assigned to Anya’s small protection detail.

“Jacob, call off your man,” Del-Rey ordered as he heard Jacob screaming through the link at Carlen. He moved faster, breaking into a run as he watched the young Breed jerk a weapon from inside his jacket and attempt to push past Sharone to get to Anya.

“She has to die, Sharone,” Carlen growled, his gray eyes too dark, too dilated. Fuck, they were going to lose another of their people to that fucking drug. “You know she has to die.”

Carlen managed to lift his arm enough to aim.

Del-Rey’s mate was going to die before his eyes.

Sharone pushed Carlen back, then threw him several feet across the room when he lifted the weapon and fired at her instead. At the same time, a knife streaked from her hand and buried itself in his chest as he stared down at it in shock.

Emma was on the floor covering Anya even as she struggled; Ashley had jumped the bar and taken out the bartender. She cocked the sawed-off rifle she’d jerked from him and leveled it on the room as she moved from behind the bar.

“Sharone.” The Wolf Breed went to his knees as Del-Rey jerked Anya from Emma’s hold.

Emma was on her feet, catching a swaying Sharone around her waist as blood seeped from her shoulder. They both stared at the young Breed as he gazed at them in confusion and fear. He didn’t even know what he had been about to do. Del-Rey knew the effects of that fucking drug, and this Breed, it appeared, was a victim of it.

“Why did you hurt me?” He sounded like a child.

Del-Rey was aware of the shouts, the orders filling the room. The Wolves had the city council surrounded, but Del-Rey was watching the death of an innocent young man before his eyes.

“What did I do?” Carlen coughed, blood spraying on Sharone’s white dress as a whimper left her lips. “What did I do?”

He toppled over, still trying to lift the pistol, still trying to focus on Anya as his eyes glazed with death.

“Get this taken care of,” Del-Rey shouted as more of his own men surrounded them. “Grab that Wolf off the floor and get him to the labs at Haven. I want full blood work done. The rest of you surround me until I get my coya to the limo. Emma, Ashley, get Sharone to a transport and get her back to Base. Now.”

They were moving quickly through the ballroom, aware of the Wolves moving just as effectively.

Breeds were covering the humans, weapons drawn, eyes hard as mates and family were whisked from the room and into the late evening cold.

Secured limos were pulling into the drive, then moving out as quickly as they’d come in, as Breed Enforcers worked to get the pack leaders and families out of danger. Enforcers and soldiers stayed behind, covering them while still others took the rooftops, ensuring that snipers weren’t in place.

“I want that bartender in custody,” Del-Rey told Brim through the mic as he pushed Anya into the waiting limo. “I want him ready to be fully interrogated the moment we hit Base.”

“He’s in custody and rolling now,” Brim barked back. “Get your ass back to Base. Ivan should be your driver. There’s no way he could be compromised by that fucking drug; we just had him tested after our return.”

“I have Ivan. I want you at Base ASAP,” Del-Rey ordered him. “Don’t take chances and don’t bother with that fucking city council. I’ll take care of them myself.”

He slammed the door closed as he slid in, and Ivan sped away from the banquet hall. He could feel the fury filling him now. No other mate had been targeted. Carlen had gone after Anya. The bartender had been prepared to hold her there. Why?

He turned to her, his gaze meeting hers and seeing not one iota of fear.

“They have my purse and my wrap,” she stated. “Morons kept my gun and knives. If they had left me alone, Sharone wouldn’t have been wounded.”

Shock resounded through him. Where was the anger, the terror, the sheer fear she should have been showing? His mate shouldn’t be staring at him with furious brilliant blue eyes and a determination that normally only blood could quench. Others’ blood.

“Sharone will be fine,” he told her. “It was a shoulder wound. The worst it’s going to do is piss her off.”

“I’m past pissed,” she snarled. “You didn’t tell me to expect trouble, Del-Rey. That was damned unfair of you.”

Unfair of him? As though he had knocked her out of some sport? His mate was becoming more aggressive than he had ever anticipated. The thought of it made him hard.

“If I’d expected trouble, your ass wouldn’t have been here.”

Before he could stop himself, he was nose to nose with her. “Do you think for a moment I’d take my mate where I expected bloodshed? Expected some crazed fucking bartender and Wolf Breed to take a shot at her?”

He was yelling at her. Anya stared back at him, adrenaline and fury pumping through her. She was shaking with it, desperate with it. She’d fought Emma as the other girl held her down, fought not to protect herself or her soldiers, but to get to Del-Rey.

It had been the only thought in her mind. To get to him, to protect him. As though he needed her protection. As though he really needed anything from her outside of sex. But the knowledge, sudden and swift, had slammed into her. She needed it from him, and right before her eyes, it could have been stolen from her.

“I don’t know what you would do,” she cried. “My bodyguard is wounded and you could have been killed in front of my eyes, Del-Rey. I’m not a happy little camper right now.”

She was terrified for him. She was shaking, desperate; she needed to touch him, just to be certain, as though only touch would assure her that he was actually there with her.

“And you think I am?”

That growl sent a shudder up her spine. It sent sensation crashing through her adrenaline-laced bloodstream, and lust and emotion to sear her mind.

She could have lost him. It could have been him carrying a bullet rather than Sharone. Though he would have probably pretended the damned thing had never hit him, despite any blood he shed.

Man of steel. Unconquered. Undefeated. Oh God, she needed him. Needed to assure herself he was alive, that he was hers. That nothing could take him away from her.

“I really don’t care if you are.” She pushed against his shoulders, trying to shove him back, and he wasn’t moving. His hands were braced on the seat at her side, his nose nearly touching hers, his black eyes glaring into hers.

“Oh, I know just how much you don’t care,” he bit out. “To the tune of eight months. Without my mate.”

“Oh yeah, I can really see how you suffered.” She was shaking with emotion now. So many months of loneliness, fear and even, at times, guilt raging through her. “I saw that when I walked into my bedroom and caught you all but fucking Sofia. Damn you to hell.” She shoved harder, and was surprised that he moved back, even more surprised that she followed him.

She was in his face. Nose to nose. “You let that bitch touch you.”

“It’s not as though you attempt to touch me.” He bared his teeth at her. “You ran. Like the child you were, rather than facing what you knew couldn’t be changed.”

“I changed it. I suffered those damned tests and I got what I needed to make sure you couldn’t control me again.” She slapped one hand to his chest, then the other. She gripped the lapels and jerked.

Buttons flew as his gaze reflected surprise, then burning lust.

“And I’ll change it now if I want to.”

Desire and need was like a demon inside her. Not like the mating heat, but like a surge of pure, white-hot lust that didn’t need hormonal help. Like it had been earlier. Powerful. Desperate.

It was helpless emotion, caught in a grip of fearing for his safety, terrified, aware that anytime in the past months she could have lost him. A knowledge that she might never have the chance to touch him again.

Nights of tossing and turning. Dreams that didn’t stop. An aching hunger she couldn’t rid herself of. And fear. In one striking moment she could have lost all those dreams. He could have died in front of her eyes because she wasn’t prepared, because she was a liability. She had to be protected for his sake because she was too damned frightened to accept the place he had made for her. As his mate. As his coya.

Well, he had to be protected too. Because he was hers. Mate, lover, man, whatever. She couldn’t name the possessiveness that rose inside her, not yet.

Her hands pressed against his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath her palms, the muscles that bunched and rippled at her touch. Her fingers curled, her nails scratched across his flesh, and she reveled in the rumbled growl that left his chest.

“Did you want Sofia after me?” She shocked herself with the question, then with the actions that followed it. She bit his lower lip, and it wasn’t a love nip.

“Do you care?” His voice was graveled, so rough it was feral.

Did she care? Oh hell yes, she cared, but she’d be damned if she would give him the satisfaction of hearing it from her lips.

“Do you care if I fuck another?” she asked him. “Maybe I should have found someone else.”

She was challenging him and she knew it. Daring the Breed, part man, part animal, to claim what was his. To claim what she didn’t know how to give him.

He buried his hand in her hair and jerked her head back as he snarled in her face. “Don’t make that mistake.”

“Why?” Her nails scratched his hard abs. She felt the flexing power in them, heard the growl of hunger that parted his lips. “Why would you care?”

He didn’t answer the question. He bore her back until she was beneath him, stretched along the leather seat, arching against him as his lips covered hers, his tongue driving into her mouth.

Fire and lightning sizzled around her. Hunger and need clashed inside her head. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers speared into his hair as she met the kiss, sucked his tongue into her mouth and gave them both what they needed.

He hadn’t fucked Sofia since he had taken Anya. She could feel it. She knew it. Sensed it. The female part of her, the woman who knew when something had touched what belonged to her, assured her of that. And she was going to make damned sure the bitch never touched him again.

The man she held in her arms belonged to her. And she was going to claim every inch of him.