Never Cry Wolf (Night Watch #4)(53)
Author: Cynthia Eden

“Sarah.”

She blinked and her gaze zeroed back in on Lucas.

“I need that cure.”

If only she had a cure to give him.

“How’d you find out about the Dust?” Dane wanted to know.

“There was an agent . . . he’d been following a series of demon deaths. I saw some of his files at the FBI. Some demons who’d been . . .” On the list for death. “They were taken out before the Bureau got to them. The agent on the cases suspected Dust was used. The demons . . . they’d attacked some bear shifters near Yosemite, took their pelts . . .”

“Fuck,” Piers snarled.

The absolute insult to a dead shifter—take the pelt before the body shifted back to human form. That left the dead body twisted, malformed. A monster at death’s gate.

“He heard about the Dust then, from some warlock named Skye.” She’d remembered the warlock. She always remembered names that could help her. But this part . . . “The agent also wrote that once ingested, he didn’t know if there was a cure for a demon.”

No cure, just death.

“But Caleb’s not just a demon.” Lucas’s fingers eased their hold. Caressed with a soft touch. A hard smile curved his lips. “He’s also wolf.” He turned away from her and stalked toward Caleb’s heaving body. “At the core,” he said again, “he’s wolf.”

But the wolf wasn’t fighting then, and the demon was dying.

“Time to let the wolf out to play,” Lucas announced with a nod. “Get it, Jordan.”

Jordan. She’d forgotten he was even there, but when she looked back, Jordan stood in the doorway, a silent shadow. “What do you want him to get?” she asked.

But Jordan was already leaving.

“Shit,” Dane whispered. “You’re not giving him the Balkans?”

“Damn right.”

“He won’t be in control!” Dane argued. “He’ll just be wolf, he won’t—”

“He’ll be wolf,” Lucas said, “and the wolf can heal.” Balkans. Yes, okay, she knew the geographical area, but what did that have to do with saving the man’s life?

“Will he even be able to ingest it?” Piers asked.

“He’ll take it,” Lucas promised. “Even if I have to shove it down his throat.” His blazing eyes turned back to Sarah. “Take her out, Dane.”

Her knees locked. “I thought you—”

“You can’t control him, Sarah. You said so yourself.” Lucas’s mouth tightened. “When the shift comes, the beast is going to take over.”

“And humans, charmers—they all smell like prey to us,” Dane told her quietly.

Prey. Was that really what she was to them? To Lucas? Jordan came back, shoving open the door. He had a small vial in his hand. Some kind of clear liquid.

“There’s a white flower in the Balkans,” Dane told her as he guided her back toward the door. “About five hundred years ago, folks believed if you ate that flower, you’d become a werewolf.”

Piers and Michael hauled Caleb up. Lucas caught his chin and pried open Caleb’s bloody mouth. Then the alpha shoved the open vial past the snarling man’s lips.

“They were half-right.” Dane’s breath blew against her ear. “The flower forced an instant shift in those who carried an animal inside. No stopping it, just fast, full on—”

Lucas threw the vial to the floor. It shattered. “Get her out!”

Caleb’s wasn’t jerking anymore. He’d gone still. Dead?

Then his bones began to snap. A howl tore from his throat.

“Get her out!” Lucas yelled again.

You all smell like prey.

Dane pulled her outside just as another howl shook the small guardhouse.

“No matter what happens,” Lucas snarled, his voice roughening as the beast fought for control of his body. “Caleb doesn’t leave this room. He doesn’t get near Sarah.”

Piers still stood as a man, by Lucas’s order. Lucas knew how delicate that shifter’s control was. Now wasn’t the time to test him.

“He won’t get by me,” Piers vowed.

“Or me.” From Jordan.

Good to know, but Lucas didn’t plan on letting Caleb get past him.

Already, the man’s body was gone. The white wolf crouched on the bed, his eyes wild, his fangs bared. Ready to rip and attack at any moment.

Lucas let the change sweep over him. It was such a beautiful pain, savage and brutal, but the power of the beast was a heady addiction. One that had long ago worked under his skin.

He expected an attack from Caleb. It would have been smart for the other wolf to attack while he shifted. But Caleb just stood, body trembling, and watched. Waited.

The fire of the shift began to cool. Lucas stretched in his new body, feeling the pull of muscles, the tensile strength.

He stalked toward the bed—and toward the waiting wolf.

You in there? He sent the question out, searching.

A breeze teased his nose. The scent of grass, of ocean, of . . .

Sarah.

The white wolf’s nostrils flared and he launched off the bed, heading right for Lucas. Lucas twisted, but didn’t let his claws touch Caleb. Not yet.

Poison.

Caleb had been loyal once. Lucas had called him friend. But if he had to, Lucas would kill him. He’d killed other friends before.

But Caleb . . .

Get control, wolf. He snapped out the command in his mind. There was no mental link that he could find with Caleb. He just touched rage, fear, pain.

Get control, he fired again but the white wolf attacked him. This time, Lucas had to use his teeth. He caught the beast around the neck, held tight, then tossed Caleb across the room.

Not a good f**king way to heal.

The white wolf’s ears flattened.

“Lucas, I sure as shit hope you know what you’re doing,” Piers muttered.

Yeah, he did, too.

The white wolf attacked once more, a hard, driving attack. Lucas met him head on, jaw snapping. He didn’t want to kill the other wolf. He needed Caleb to heal. He needed to find out what the hell was happening, but—

They rolled, twisted, and Caleb’s claws dug into Lucas’s side. He growled at the fiery burst of pain. Get control, Caleb. The shift should have pushed some of the poison out of his system, and if the man could just get control of the beast—

Caleb broke away from him and sprang for the door.

“ ’Fraid not.” Jordan stood before the door, arms crossed.