Raising Hell: A Hellcat World Novel (Hellcat Series Book 7) Read online

  Her wolf surged forward, close enough to sharpen her senses. Her bonded mate, Alpha of the Silver Ridge Pack, and her husband in the human world.

  When they’d first met, he’d been boyishly good-looking, disarmingly affable, a little scruffy around the edges, playful, confident and caring. Three years later he was still all of those things, except perhaps for the scruffy bit. And, though it seemed impossible, she was even more in love with him now than she had been in those early days.

  “Hey, angel, I thought I heard you.” His voice rumbled above her head, and he drew her up against his body with a contented sigh. “Glad you’re home.” His wolf responded to hers as well, making his presence, and his delight at her return, clear. Her wolf rumbled a reciprocal pleasure as she calmed at last. Something about the strength of her relief must have alerted Kyle.

  “What’s wrong?” He pulled her away from him just enough to frown down at her. His eyes had turned from blue to hazel and were bleeding to burnt amber as Trish looked up at him. If he went full wolf, dark red would circle the pupil and shoot through the warm amber. “Is she unsettled again?” Her wolf didn’t only have her on edge these days.

  Trish dropped her head onto his chest for a moment, just needing to breathe in his scent and feel his warmth as she gathered the courage she needed.

  “Not without reason this time.” She sighed. “Make me a cup of tea and I’ll tell you.”

  “So I took Amanda to Derek and Kimberley.” Trish finished recounting the events of the evening. “They don’t have anyone else in the house at the moment; they’ll be able to help her find her feet.” She had been so relieved that her brother and his wife had been able to offer the woman somewhere to stay. Haven was no place for a ‘norm’, a human with no knowledge of the supernatural world. “She’ll be shell-shocked for a few days, but I think she’ll be alright, she’s strong.” She trailed off, her hands wrapped firmly around her empty mug as she sat at the counter, trying to read Kyle’s expression. It wasn’t often she found him difficult to read.

  His own mug of coffee sat almost untouched on the counter between them, a testament to how her story had affected him. She wasn’t anxious about what he would do or say, she knew that he would never hurt her, not physically or emotionally, but she did fear him bottling his emotions up, of being worried or disappointed and not allowing her to see. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by concern for her.

  “I…I won’t do anything like that again, I promise,” she vowed, dropping her gaze to his mug. “I know it was stupid, and I’m lucky nothing went wrong…”

  Before she could finish her addled sentence, he was beside her, his hands forcing her face upward, his lips crushing hers.

  When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, his tightly controlled expression was gone, replaced by the admiring exasperation she had often seen on the face of Gabi’s Vampire Consort whenever Gabi did something amazingly daring but stupidly reckless and somehow emerged unscathed.

  “I will hold you to that promise,” Kyle said at last, one hand warm around the back of her neck. “But I am proud of the way you handled that. I wouldn’t have been anywhere near as subtle or forgiving, and nor would Derek, and probably not Gabi or anyone else from the Pack. Ultimately it was your issue to resolve as you saw fit. And you did it with a strength and grace very few of us could emulate.” He dropped another quick, hungry kiss on her lips. “But please never do anything like that again without telling me what’s going on, or my wolf will never let you out of his sight ever again. I may be reasonable most of the time, but he is an entirely different beast.” His grin was back, and his eyes had bled back to their normal baby blue.

  Trish reached up and brushed a stubborn curl away from his left eye. “You don’t have to worry about that. I’m definitely not cut out for adrenalin and violence. I’ll stick to my keyboard from now on, I swear.”

  “Can you two lovebirds get a room?” an exasperated, but amused, voice asked from behind them.

  Trish jumped guiltily; she hadn’t even heard Flora come down the stairs. They broke apart, Trish trying to tamp down a blush as Kyle chuckled.

  “You finished your assignment already?” he asked the lanky girl.

  She strode over to open the fridge and pull out a canned energy drink. “As if,” she mock grumbled, cracking the seal on the can as she came to lean over the counter across from them. Trish resisted the motherly urge to grab away the energy drink and pour her a glass of milk instead.

  Flora had been living with them for almost two years now, ever since her foster father, an old and powerful Vampire, had been forced into exile for covertly working against those who support the ultimate subjugation of humankind. She fitted into their unconventional family as though she’d always been there. Almost nineteen, she’d started college a few months ago, but hadn’t felt the need to move to campus, instead choosing the half-hour daily commute. Trish knew she would spread her wings at some point, but she was more than content to have the girl around as long as she wanted to stay with them. She had a strange way about her, one that could put some people off. Her Vodun heritage spread like an aura around her, one that either pulled people to her, or gave them the chills. Most days it was difficult for Trish to reconcile this loving, appreciative child with the woman who would one day hold such immense power over life and death. What would she be like when she fully became the Vodun priestess she was born to be?

  Trish pushed away her worries. For now Flora was a normal young woman, finding her way, experimenting with clothes and boys and going to parties and very occasionally pushing her boundaries. Boundaries that were in essence insubstantial and unnecessary; Flora was more than old enough to make her own decisions, even from a legal standpoint, but more by way of her innate natural maturity and a wisdom way beyond her years. Regardless of that, the girl still called to Trish’s maternal nature, in some ways more than even Breanna. Perhaps because Trish knew that she’d been forced to grow up way before her time. Losing her mother to an inhumane death and being cruelly forced from the safety of her tribe into the wilds of East Africa through nothing more than fear and superstition was something no child should have to endure.

  Flora grimaced at them as she set the can on the counter, adjusting the red and gold bandanna she had used to tame her mass of ebony curls. “I’m not even close to finished, but I still have a few nights to work on it.” Her accent was a strangely lyrical mixture of Ewe, her native Ghanaian language, and upper-class British, a result of her private school education in London.

  “You know it’s cheating to get your info from a source like that, don’t you?” Kyle’s tone was teasing as he reached for his mug of cold coffee and downed the contents, making Trish shudder in distaste.

  “There is no rule in any of the university regulations against interviewing someone who was actually at the scene of an historic event. I checked,” she countered with an arch look.

  Kyle snorted as he shook his head. “That’s because they don’t know there are any survivors from the first Anglo-Ashanti war,” he pointed out. “The existence of Vampires isn’t exactly acknowledged by those who govern universities.”

  Flora grinned smugly and shrugged. “If they don’t want to open their eyes and minds to what actually exists out there, that’s their problem, not mine.”

  Kyle sighed in martyred capitulation as Trish wondered if a student had ever turned in a history paper after interviewing the participant of a battle that took place almost two hundred years before.

  “Hey, can you keep an ear out for Breanna for a couple of hours?” Kyle asked her, setting his empty mug on the counter.

  “Sure,” Flora replied, but the smirk was back. “Going to get that room after all?”

  Kyle raised an amused eyebrow. “We just want to go for a run.”

  “Ahh,” she breathed with a conspiratorial wink, “your version of a room, then?” She laughed aloud at their answering indignation. “Go. Breanna will be fine. Adriana had her climbing t
rees all afternoon, she’ll sleep like the dead, and Tabari will be here soon for my lesson.” She turned with a dismissive wave to rummage through the well-stocked freezer for one of Trish’s precooked meals. “It’s all theory this week, so we can study in the dining room.”

  Trish knew that nothing would happen to the girls with Tabari around; he was one of Julius’s oldest and most trusted Clan members. A Vampire of pure African ethnicity, he was almost as rare as a Dhampir, his uniqueness only heightened by his Vodun heritage. Although he had never developed his own Vodun powers, he was an excellent teacher. At first, he’d been coerced into undertaking her training, part of a deal brokered to keep Gabi’s mother safe, but now he did it willingly and with genuine enjoyment.

  Before Trish had a chance to open her mouth, Kyle was pulling her along in his wake towards the back door and the call of their own private forest.

  The wolf shook herself, throwing off the last vestiges of her human form. She felt strong and confident, an Alpha wolf in her own right, a true Luna, not just an Alpha’s mate. A pleasurable shudder ran through her body as her fur settled into place. The ground felt cool under the pads of her feet, and the warm night air was heavy with scent. Once, the Change had been painful and exhausting, feeling unnatural and somehow alien, but now it was like finding true freedom. In the back of her mind she was aware of the babble of human thoughts and worries, but those were easy to push aside when the call of nature was so strong. She lifted her snout to the sky and let out an exultant howl. Years before, she had been bound to the will of the moon, only able to Change close to the full moon or in times of extreme stress, but now she was strong enough to call the Change at will.

  A presence fell in beside her. A large, warm and dominant one. She pressed against her mate’s massive form.

  Hers. All hers.

  The Alpha wolf licked and nuzzled her face, pawing at her playfully. She responded with a teasing nip, catching his right front paw between her teeth and tugging, trying to roll him over. He whuffed and danced backward, his tongue lolling out. The moonlight caught his rich russet fur, painting it bronze. She paused for a moment to drink him in. He was so much bigger than her slender frame, still one of the biggest wolves she had ever seen, and she had seen many now. When she was in human form, he brought tears to her eyes, there was something so powerful and majestic about him. His tail swished just a little as it perked up, waiting for her next move.

  She stretched slightly, familiarising herself with her other form, and then, without warning, she darted off to her left, dashing through the thick undergrowth on sure-footed paws. He gave her five heartbeats, and then she heard him lunge after her.

  The chase was on.

  He was bigger and more powerful than her, but she was quick and nimble, able to change direction in mid-air and squirm through tight pockets of foliage that he could never hope to fit through.

  Small rustles and snapping twigs heralded the scattering of rabbits and squirrels and other small prey, but she didn’t allow herself to get distracted as the bigger wolf closed in. She put on a burst of speed, leapt a fallen log, scrambled up a muddy embankment and darted right. She was panting a little, but her body could still go for hours; every sinew and muscle was strong and sure. The worries of the world disappeared entirely as she concentrated on the exact placement of her paws, the crunch of every dried leaf, and the warning hoots of airborne owls. She crested a small rise, knowing she was nearly at the far southern boundary of their property. Should she head east into the neighbouring wildlife reserve or west to the thickest part of the forest?

  Too late.

  The huge wolf hurtled out of the bush behind her and smashed into her, sending her crashing down the far side of the hill. They tumbled together with little snaps and snarls, but it was all for show. When they came to rest at the bottom, they were both panting. The male wolf disentangled himself and made an overt display of pinning her down at the neck with his enormous fangs. Knowing she’d lost the chase, she turned in his gentle grip to bare her throat to him. He made a deep, contented grumble and released her, to nip and nuzzle her snout.

  They rested a few moments, the full lengths of their bodies touching as they lay on the rapidly cooling ground. Then her mate rose, loping off towards the east, where the stream ran. He waited for her to catch up, and together they followed their noses to the narrow trickle of water bordered by the ridge of silver birch trees. The trees that their Pack was named for. They drank deeply and then sat silently side by side in the moonlight, simply existing in the sights and scents and sounds of their territory, revelling in the simple existence of each other and everything around them.

  The quiet crunch of a foraging deer broke the spell. She glanced at him in question, but she could already sense that he wasn’t in the mood to hunt. In silent agreement, they rose and began to lope back in the direction of the house. Sometimes they chased down prey on a run, something small, a rabbit or possum; they only took enough to keep the populations under control and healthy. Tonight, they had something else on their minds.

  A half mile or so from the house, they nosed through a copse of bush surrounding a naturally protected rock shelter. The Pack’s rest and recovery site. A place where wolves could sleep off the excitement and exhaustion of a full moon run, Change back to human form in their own time, and enjoy each other’s company in wolf or human form without fear of intrusion or judgment.

  On the other side of the dense foliage, a large flat area of ground was sheltered by rocks overhanging the very end of the ridge. Fresh straw covered the spots that were bare of grass, and a pile of thick, hard-wearing blankets lay folded in a dry alcove. There was more than enough space for a dozen wolves to spread out, but with the size of the Pack increasing all the time, they would soon have to resort to taking turns here or finding an alternative. For now though, with over a week to the next full moon, it was all theirs.

  Her mate’s Change was almost instantaneous; if you weren’t watching him, you’d miss it. No other Werewolf was capable of a Change that fast. He put it down to the fact that he had been born a Werewolf. Something that seemed to be unique to Kyle. At least they’d never come across anyone else making that claim.

  His mother had been bitten right at the end of her pregnancy, she’d gone into labour within hours of being infected, and her baby son had miraculously survived. His mother made it through as well and had managed to keep them both safe and undiscovered for nearly two decades. She’d done it by moving often and teaching Kyle to hide his unnatural strength, speed and healing abilities. It had been easier for him than for most, as he had been able to control the wolf from an early age, not needing to Change at full moon, as almost every other wolf needed to. In fact, he could go for years without Changing. It was an anomaly that still made others of their kind uneasy.

  In the early days of her infection, Trish had been forced to relinquish control to her wolf entirely when she Changed, relying on Kyle to pull her back and force the wolf to step back. Now, when they ran, she existed in tandem with the wolf, though her human side took a mostly passive role, only retaking control when it was time to reverse the Change.

  Trish took her time, knowing better than to rush the transformation. Forcing it was incredibly painful for her. It was different for each of them, she’d discovered using her own subtle version of interrogation. Some found it harder to Change from human to wolf, and some found it difficult to Change both ways. Years of experience helped up to a certain point, but old age seemed to hamper it again. Not that many of them made it to old age.

  She lay on the blanket Kyle had spread out for her, and closed her eyes as she coaxed the wolf into retreat. Kyle’s presence always helped, his own content wolf making her acquiescence easier. The slow rearranging of bones and muscles and tendons was uncomfortable but familiar; it happened in a kind of order, which she had learned to predict. Legs lengthening, arms shortening, muzzle and fangs retracting, tail disappearing and fur fading away to nothing.
r />   When the shift was over, she found herself lying with her head on Kyle’s bare chest, one arm over his abdomen while his hand trailed tantalising patterns up and down the sensitive skin of her back.

  Her skin was always more sensitive after a Change: fresh, delicate and flawless. Kyle’s naturally coarser skin was a pleasurable roughness against hers, leaving a warm tingling sensation wherever he touched her.

  She’d been such a sexual neophyte when she met Kyle. All she’d known was how to try to please a man and that sex seemed to be the best way to keep a man in a good mood. Brendan had been her first real relationship and her only sexual partner beyond a few clumsy teenage heavy-petting sessions. She’d had no inkling of the physical pleasure she could experience, of the way her body could react to the right touch combined with the love and respect of someone she trusted with her life and her heart. The first time Kyle had brought her to full orgasm, she’d been so overwhelmed that her eyes had filled with tears. He’d kissed them away before taking her with a gentleness she’d never guessed was possible from a man, let alone one who was as much wolf as human.

  A sensual rumble vibrated from his chest as she reached to stroke his hard shaft, flicking her thumb over the smooth, sensitive tip. She lifted her languid limbs and shimmied down until she was close enough to take him in her mouth. His rumble turned to a groan as she allowed her tongue to roam and explore. He hissed in pleasure, his hands digging into the rough blanket, fighting for control as one of her subtle fangs grazed across the very tip.

  Only when his breathing had grown ragged, when his hips had arched uncontrollably off the ground towards her did she relent. Breathing raggedly, he laced his hands into her hair, pulling her head up to meet his gaze, his liquid amber eyes holding hers as she made her way back up the length of his body, slowly enough that she could trail tiny biting kisses over the warm expanse of his chest. When their mouths met, it was with a clash of teeth and tongues, their breath mingling, their bodies knitted together. When he turned the tables on her, laying her down and finding that most sensitive nub with his masterful tongue, she lost all sense of time and place, giving herself over to the ecstasy, not caring that those patrolling the house and grounds, those with uncanny hearing, would hear her sounds of pleasure. At that moment, nothing else mattered.