“What would they do, if they had it all?” Furio asked.
“What’s with all the fucking questions?” growled Storm.
It was not for any one of them to try and control the others’ usage of this gift. It went against their very nature as magical creatures.
Storm understood this. It was why he’d never looked back after leaving the Black Moon Pack to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps. With his father still ruling and his brother as heir, his life there would have been difficult to say the least.
He was too dominant. More so than his old man, yet the tradition dictated that the second son could not be Alpha.
Leaving was his only option and his grandfather had ensured that he had all the knowledge he needed before his time came. Storm had joined the crusade against those who sought to rule over the entire supernatural world before he was old enough to vote. He knew his duty was no longer to Pack, but to his band of Guardians.
Which was why he was wading through the last thick patch of swampland left undeveloped in Secaucus, New Jersey, home of the best outlet shopping this side of the Hudson River for which he was named, at the behest of one of his own. Fucking Furio.
“Sorry, cump, talking helps pass the time. Anyway, my CI prefers to be away from prying eyes, you know he’s part Goblin, and more than a little skittish.”
“Yeah, well what news does he have anyway?”
“He thinks he found the Loyalists’ new headquarters. It was too good a tip to pass up. He’s supposed to have the GPS coordinates for me tonight.”
“Shit. That is important. But he couldn’t have texted them?”
“Nah,” Furio shook his head, causing his long hair which was bound in a leather thong to sway side to side, mimicking that of his shifted form.
He stopped to touch one of the long overgrown cattails they’d passed and Storm stilled in his tracks. He thought he heard something. Like a woman breathing or humming or something, but how could that be? They were in the middle of nowhere. Furio dropped the cattail and turned in the direction of the soft, and admittedly pleasant, vocals.
“Hey, you hear that?” Furio asked.
Storm raised his hand to quiet the other man. His Wolf was at full attention. A warm breeze blew in their direction, and he breathed it in deep siphoning through the various layers hoping to identify whatever it was making that sound.
Along with the heavy scent of the dense and decaying vegetation, came another, lighter, much more pleasant fragrance. It sifted through Storm’s highly acute olfactory system, teasing and tempting his senses. Whatever it was, Storm wanted more.
His Wolf’s ears worked to zero in on the source of both the sounds and the tantalizing fragrance that seemed too soft, too fine for the misty marshlands of Secaucus, New Jersey.
“It’s like brown sugar and marzipan,” he murmured as the sweet fragrance danced across his senses, like something out of a dream.
“What?” laughed Furio, but he ignored the Stallion.
He knew better than to go traipsing off after a phantom scent, but there was something about it. Something all too tempting and familiar. Storm’s Wolf perked up. He growled low and deep as he took in another breath.
That scent, that crazy good scent was like a shock to the system, but not necessarily unpleasant. More like an awakening. Storm noticed the Stallion Shifter walking through the thicket towards that divine fragrance, and the Wolf inside of him snarled.
“What the fuck, cump?” Furio asked.
Storm shook his head. What the fuck was wrong with him? Furio was his friend and fellow Guardian.
It didn’t matter. The Wolf was upset. Storm shook his head and tried to silence the beast, but his animal was insistent. He needed to beat his friend to the source of that heavenly scent.
“Shit,” he growled.
He hurried past the Stallion using his superior height to gain the advantage, despite Furio’s better speed. The Stallion couldn’t beat him there. Storm would not allow it. He leapt over fallen trees and shrubs, avoiding the holes that had gotten him twice already in the deceptively soft, wet earth, until he reached the edge of what seemed to be a parking lot.
The heavy breathing coming from behind him told the Wolf that Furio had managed to keep pace, but the Stallion needed to hit the gym more if he was out of breath. It was shameful for a Guardian to be so easily exhausted. Then again, when had he ever beaten the Horse Shifter in a race?
“Damn, Storm, I never saw you run so fast,” he huffed and Storm blinked in surprise, “shit, if I’d have known this lot was so close, I wouldn’t have made us park behind the stadium and walk,” the Stallion sucked in air greedily.
“Shhh,” Storm held up his hand for silence.
His Wolf’s enhanced vision allowed him to fully make out the details of the scene before him. They were just outside the fenced in parking lot of some kind of building. There was a municipal sign hanging up not too far away.
It was late at night, so it wasn’t the courthouse, and no cop cars were parked, so it wasn’t a police station either. He looked around for any other indication of just what the older cement building was. Ah, another dented sign.
“It’s a library,” Furio whispered.
“I see that,” Storm growled.
He was angry and on edge and he had no fucking idea why. His entire body vibrated with energy. He was not nervous, just impatient, he realized. That was odd too.
What could he possibly be waiting for here? His Wolf dripped saliva from his fang’s as he waited in that metaphysical plane where he rested until Storm called to him. He tried to think what could have led him there, but all coherent thought fled his brain the second she came into view.
The strange woman was all the way on the other end of the tiny parking lot. A tall security fence and a good fifty feet of black asphalt stood between the female and the place where the two Guardians lurked, but Storm could still make out every detail of the stunning creature.
“She’s a little round, but I always did like a girl with some cushion for the pushin’,” Furio elbowed him jokingly, but his words enraged Storm.
The Wolf inside of him snarled and growled and before he could stop himself, he had Furio by the collar of his shirt. He’d lifted the Stallion a good foot off the ground before shock had him dropping his friend.
“The fuck?” Furio choked and rubbed his bruised neck.
Storm ignored him, eyes glued to the woman in the ankle length skirt and short-sleeved blouse. She wore shiny red shoes with high spindle-like heels. Stilettos, he thought and for the first time he understood why they were called that.
They might not be good for running, but the long, skinny heels were capable of piercing a man’s heart just like the stealthy blade they were named after. As it was, he more than appreciated the way the shiny red heels lengthened her legs and caused her hips to sway seductively in the yellowish glow of the streetlights.
Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun. She’d obviously tried to tame her fiery red locks, but curls still fell around her lovely face. Storm observed the subtle highlights and lowlights in her hair color even in the diminished light, noting with pleasure her eyelashes held the same coppery tinge.
So, she was a natural redhead. Good. He did not like artificial things. Unlike most redheads who leaned towards fair-skinned, this beautiful woman had a healthy bronze glow to her. Her whiskey brown eyes were large and bright in the darkness.