Phantom Wolf. Bonnie Vanak

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ he said in a soft, drawling voice that rubbed against her skin like warm velvet. “But, sweetheart, you are most definitely mine.”

       Chapter 2

      Propping his heavy boots on the table in front of him, Shay took a swig of bottled water and stared at the opposite wall of Phoenix Force’s ready room. Framed photographs of SEALs who’d died in combat stared back. Shay gave them a solemn salute with the bottle.

      Kelly Denning. Even now, years after they’d parted, the memories rushed back in a cascade of searing heat. But now they said she was a scumbag, worse than a pyrokinetic demon. According to the rumors swirling around the SEAL Team 21 compound, she’d used her organization as cover to steal Elemental Phantom Mage children to drain their powers. Billy was the first. Others would follow if Kelly wasn’t stopped.

      The door slammed behind them as Renegade and Dakota paced into the room. The two Draicon werewolves looked ready to take someone down.

      Gods, he knew what they felt. They hated the mass of red tape caused by the senator whose son they’d saved. Everyone on the SEAL 21 compound was on edge. ST 21 was thought by humans to be “norms.” No one in the human world knew of the existence of paranorms. If they did, they’d freak.

      And now the senator had brought an entourage of humans into the compound. “Are they done with her yet?” he asked his lieutenant.

      Dakota shook his head. “Humans are. FBI and brass are letting her go. No evidence she was working with the kidnappers. But as soon as they’re gone, Senator Rogers wants a crack at her.”

      He exchanged glances with a scowling Renegade.

      “The senator wants blood. He says she’s lying, because all Arcane Mages lie.” Renegade shook his head. “Seems we’re in the middle of a damn blood feud.”

      “Rogers is an Elemental Elder on the Council of Mages. He doesn’t trust Arcanes. This little incident fuels his reasons even more,” Shay explained.

      And he had the power to fry Kelly with a flick of one hand. Not if I’m around.

      Stretching languidly, Renegade winked. “That Kelly is hot. Heard you were childhood friends and then lovers.”

      Shay stiffened and then crushed the bottle in one hand. “Not anymore.”

      “Bad parting?” Dakota took a chair, swung it around and straddled it.

      You might say. Shay gave his friend and lieutenant a meaningful look. The Draicon werewolf got it and shut his trap. Thank you.

      But Renegade, a loudmouth and player, shook the topic like a wolf with a tasty bone. “I don’t get this crap about Elementals and Arcanes. You’re all the same race, all Mages.”

      “Long history.” Shay pitched the empty bottle into a waste basket.

      Renegade tapped his fingers on the desk. “I bet you got into it with her father because she’s an Arcane and you’re a powerful Elemental. You seduced her. Classic case of the maid seduced by the nobleman.”

      Shay’s blood pressure rose. The desk began to vibrate beneath his clenched fists. Electromagnetic currents rippled in the air, sparks crackling with magick.

      “And then…” Renegade grinned. “Her father went after you with a shotgun.”

      “No. Her father killed my entire family.”

      Both SEALs stared at him. Shay felt his temples begin to pound as he recognized the troublesome look in Renegade’s eyes.

      “All that over a little something-something? Day-um. That Kelly she must be great in the sack. Those long legs…”

      Shay’s temper snapped like dry kindling. “That’s it. You’re going down.”

      He vaulted over the table, aiming for the SEAL. As Renegade shape-shifted into a wolf, Shay used his Phantom powers to shift.

      Snarling, the two wolves clashed in midair, heavily muscled bodies thunking hard against each other. He raked his claws over the other’s muzzle, heard an answering call of pain. Renegade’s teeth closed over Shay’s left shoulder, biting hard. As the burning agony hit, so did logic. Tearing free, Shay spun around, his large paws digging into the linoleum.

      His Kelly? Since when? The man inside the wolf howled for reason. This was Renegade, a bastard, sure, but his teammate, a fellow SEAL who would give his life for the teams. And Shay.

      Dakota stormed forward, backhanded them both. “Stand down!”

      The two wolves shifted back and Renegade clothed himself by using magick. He looked badly shaken. Blood dripped from three furrows on his face. The coppery scent hung in the air.

      Shay shifted back, feeling deeply ashamed. He conjured on clothing and swallowed hard, looking Renegade in the eye.

      “I’m sorry, man,” Shay said.

      “My bad.” The other SEAL looked abashed.

      A vein jumped in Dakota’s temple. “Are you insane? The senator’s human aides are in this building! We’re pooling all our efforts to make SEAL Team 21 look like just another SEAL team and hide our powers. And you two shape-shift in broad daylight?”

      He turned to Renegade. “You. Fifty laps around the compound. Now. And you…”

      Dakota waited until Renegade left. “Shay, dial it down. I know what it’s like to lose your head over a woman, but you’re not doing her any favors by pulling crap like that.”

      “It won’t happen again.”

      He meant it. Because the feral rage scared the ever-living crap out of him. Gods, he hadn’t shifted into a wolf since the day he’d nearly killed a rancher almost eleven years ago. If not for his uncle’s high standing on the council, Shay would have been executed. They didn’t kill him, because he was a privileged Elemental Mage. After, Shay joined the navy, became a SEAL. The disciplined life had saved him.

      Dakota’s cell rung. The Draicon glanced at caller ID, and his scowl softened to a smile. He answered. “Hey, sweetheart.”

      Sienna, the wolf’s mate. She’d taken this man of brass and turned him into mush with a simple phone call. A hollow ache settled in Shay’s chest. Glancing over his shoulder, Dakota whispered, “Go take care of yourself, Shay. You’re bleeding all over the place.”

      He nodded. “Tell Sienna I said hello.”

      When he returned, Lieutenant Commander Dale “Curt” Curtis, commanding officer of ST 21, sat beside Dakota in the ready room.

      “Curt? What’s the deal?”

      His CO snorted. “Show’s about to start. And I can’t do a damn thing about it. My hands are tied by all this red tape.”

      The door burst open. Senator Robert Rogers walked in, accompanied by his well-groomed wife and a pretty, blonde woman with a tense look and wide, scared eyes. The woman carried a pad and pencil. In the senator’s wake was a parade of dark-suited aides, СКАЧАТЬ