Dark Wolf (Spirit Wild)

2

“Anything newsworthy?”

Sebastian glanced away from the big bay window with its unobstructed view of the sun slipping into the Pacific Ocean, something he found more attractive than anything that could possibly fill the media screen this time of day. “I have no idea. I’ve not been paying attention.”

His father paused in front of the screen, raised the volume, and then spoke over it. “Maybe you should, son of mine. I don’t understand your lack of interest in events shaping the world. How do you expect to help shape those events if you’re not even aware, if you don’t care, what’s important?”

Sebastian merely shrugged. “I have no interest in shaping events. I’ll leave that to men like you.”

“That’s the coward’s way. No son of mine—”

Sebastian smiled as he interrupted. “Wants to compete with his father. You’re obviously good at what you do, Father. There’s no need for me to fight your battles. You do quite well on your own.”

His father stared at him a moment, and Sebastian wished he could read the man’s mind. He couldn’t even read his aura, something that came naturally to him with most people. The man remained a mystery. Sometimes he wondered if the elder Xenakis wanted to send him away, if he’d rather not claim a son who was so unlike himself. Other times, Sebastian was certain his father was proud of his accomplishments, even a bit impressed by his magical abilities.

The shapeshifting had certainly gotten the old man’s attention. When he’d demonstrated his ability, Sebastian’s shift from man to wolf had left Aldo Xenakis speechless. Of course, with his father’s avid hatred of Chanku shapeshifters, Sebastian possibly could have chosen a creature other than a wolf—one more politically correct—but that was the one that came easiest to him.

He had not wanted to risk failure, and he hadn’t. In fact, he’d grown so comfortable now with the shift that it took less energy every time, but he really should work on some new creatures. He’d watched the Chanku on the neighboring property. Hiding high on the mountain on his father’s land, he’d used a powerful telescope to study them as they went about their daily lives.

Even the children could shift. Fascinated, he’d watched the little ones take the shapes of various creatures, of birds and lions and leopards, always under their parents—or at least an adult’s—watchful eye. And always creatures of prey, whether it be hawk or cougar, wolf, or even, on at least one occasion, a snake.

He’d not ventured beyond the wolf. His greatest fear was finding a shape and getting caught in it, but eventually he was certain his skill would allow shifts of all kinds.

“What do you know of this?”

Sebastian glanced at the digital tablet his father shoved in front of him. The evening news was updating—he read the headlines. Another body had been found, another young woman raped and murdered. Raped by a man, yet murdered by a beast. Or beasts.

He raised his eyes and stared directly at his father. “Not a damned thing. Why? Do you expect me to have inside knowledge?”

“The last murder occurred Sunday in Montana, not far from our home. This one was here in San Francisco. You were in Montana on Sunday. You’re here now.”

He tapped the screen, shutting down the view. Then he turned away from Sebastian and stared out the window.

Silence truly could be deafening.

Sebastian clamped down on the surge of anger. There were some topics he’d rather not argue. This was one of them, but he wasn’t about to let his father’s insult go entirely unanswered. “What’s your point, Father?”

“Are you still shifting? Still running as a wolf?” Aldo continued to gaze out the window as he questioned his son.

“I am.” Sebastian took a deep, controlling breath. “Are you insinuating that I have anything to—”

“Do you?”

The question, the fact the man would actually voice it, startled him. He stared at his father’s back. Stared until the bastard slowly turned and glared right back at him. Energy sparkled in the air between them. Energy and anger unlike anything Sebastian had ever experienced. He felt his wolf stir within, an unnerving, unexpected sensation. For the first time ever he had to consciously hold back the shift. There was no magic in this—it was rage. Pure, relentless rage.

He clenched his jaw, fought for control, and won.

Still the two of them stood there, glaring at each other like two alpha wolves daring one another for control. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to. Anger simmered, a palpable force in the room.

Sebastian was the first to lower his gaze. Seething inside, fighting the wildness reaching for release, he stared at the stone tiles that covered the floor. He didn’t raise his head until he was certain his father had left the room.

Once again, he’d been judged.

Judged, and found wanting, even though he knew he had his father bested.

Sebastian could shift. The wizard couldn’t.

Long moments later, he felt the wolf subside, took a deep breath, and then let it out. He inhaled again, slowly, until his thundering heart settled back to its normal cadence in his chest.

He turned to the window, breathing slow and steady as he watched the fog rolling in over the dark water, but his thoughts were far away. He wondered about the latest victim—who she was. What she had been like.

What her thoughts had been before she died.

If she had known the one who killed her.


It was a little after ten when Lily paid the cabbie near 19th and Lincoln, got out of the car, and slipped into the fog and shadows at the edge of Golden Gate Park. She wore loose sweats and sandals and carried a cloth bag, well aware she looked more like a homeless transient than the CEO of one of the largest import companies in the city.

It was exactly the look she wanted.

Slipping into the thick shrubbery that bordered this area of the park, she stripped out of her clothing and stuffed shoes and sweats into the bag. Naked, shivering in the cool night air, she bent low and shoved the bag with her stuff under a low-growing shrub.

A branch cracked nearby, sharp and loud as a gunshot. She went totally still, crouched low beneath the brush. After a moment, Lily heard laughter, a feminine giggle, and the soft tones of a masculine voice. She raised her head and sniffed, picking up the faint hint of cologne, a softer, feminine perfume, and the rich cloud of pheromones in the still night air.

She heard the sound of clothing rustling, a soft whimper, and a rough, masculine moan.

Just her luck. She wanted to run, and the dude on the other side of the bush wanted to f*ck. It would be funny if she weren’t so desperate to leave her human self behind tonight, though she almost laughed out loud when she thought of what Alex would make of the situation.

He had a smart-ass comment for everything, and he’d absolutely be loving this mess, which meant she’d probably tell him about it later. She could hear him now, running a riff about her hunkered down in the bushes alongside one of the busiest streets in the city, bare assed and buck naked while some bozo tried to make it with his girlfriend less than two feet away.

She waited, hoping they’d disappear, maybe find a room somewhere. Instead, she heard the snick of a zipper, a soft, “Oh, baby. That’s it . . . that’s . . .”

Shit. Enough already. Lily called on her wolf and felt the change sweep over her body. She paused as all her senses synced with the night around her. Within seconds she’d slipped through fog and shadows without making a sound. The soft gasps and moans faded as she silently left the couple behind.

The fog grew thicker as she ran, muting the ever-present sounds of civilization as well as the soft pads of her paws against the trail. With mouth open and tongue lolling, Lily drew great draughts of air into her lungs. Her wolven brain easily categorized the scents—alder and pine, pungent eucalyptus, and freshly mowed grass. A hint of cigar smoke and the familiar odor of marijuana. The acrid smells of many who had passed through the park earlier, scents of dogs and children, of perfumes and colognes.

Familiar smells, but not the ones she wanted. Not tonight. She missed the smells of home, the sharp tang of cedar and the clean scent of damp earth. The sounds here were lacking as well. Owls hooting in the night, the squeak of bats overhead. There were some small rustlings of mice in the weeds and the occasional slither of a snake or the crackle of voles in the leaves, but no rustle of deer in the brush, no bugling elk.

No pack members to run beside her.

No male who wanted her as his mate.

And that was the crux of it all, wasn’t it? She was damned tired of living alone, though she’d never admit that to her parents. They wanted her to find love and had always hoped it would be with Alex Aragat.

Even Alex found that idea insane. They’d slept in the same crib, and played together as toddlers and beyond, until they each went off to college. Through all their years together, Lily had been the big sister, the one in charge.

She still was. That dynamic would never change.

She loved Alex, and sex with him was amazing, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. He didn’t challenge her, and she would always intimidate the hell out of him. They laughed about it, pretended to go along with the wishes of their parents, but both of them accepted their relationship would never go beyond what they had now: packmates—special friends with benefits.

Lily realized she was growling as she ran. Time to stop thinking about Alex and her lack of male companionship. This run was supposed to relax her, not leave her frustrated and angry.

She put in a fresh burst of speed and raced through the park. Normally she preferred to run in the Marin Headlands or through the tangled grounds of the Presidio, but her time tonight was limited and she needed this run.

Desperately.

She raced past the golf course and circled the soccer fields, keeping to the shadows, out of plain sight. Circling back, she found herself drawn toward the small garden her mother had designed over thirty years ago. Keisha Rialto had been a young landscape architect when her life was turned upside down by a horrible assault and an unexpected shift from woman to wolf.

In spite of everything, her design had won a contest that resulted in the beautiful memorial to Tibetan Sherpas who had lost their lives guiding climbers into the Himalayas. Her simple yet elegant design had changed so many lives—including her own.

Somehow, the woman who would one day give birth to Lily had included specific plants native to the Tibetan Steppe—plants containing nutrients Chanku shapeshifters needed to shift.

Instinct? The hand of the goddess? Whatever force had lead Keisha to those plants had also led Lily’s father to search for her mother.

If not for that garden, Lily might never have been born, her parents might not have found one another, and the Chanku species could have disappeared forever.

She’d always loved the garden and felt a special connection to the peaceful memorial near Stow Lake. Now, though, as she drew closer, Lily sensed something different.

A darkness that hadn’t existed before. A sense of evil so powerful that the entire area felt tarnished.

How could she have forgotten so soon? A woman had died here just a few hours ago.

Raped by a man, her throat torn out by a wolf.

Lily eased up on her ground-eating lope and slowed to a trot, moving silently among the large stones and softly clumped grasses. The scent of blood hung thick in the foggy night despite the best efforts of the cleaning crews to remove all signs of the assault and murder.

Lily’s sensitive nose picked up the stale scent of fear, of sweat and blood, of semen. Overlaying it all was the powerful scent of wolf.

Not a wolf she recognized, and not just one. She crossed back and forth, breathing in the smells. At least four different wolves. Maybe more, but there was an underlying stench of something wrong, a darkness that didn’t fit with the familiar scent of Chanku.

It made no sense. Man and beast had been here, but had they been Chanku? Or had it been humans and natural wolves—wolves trained to kill?

She was certain she knew all of the Chanku capable of shifting. Over the past twenty-six years, ever since their existence had become public knowledge, they’d searched among normal-appearing humans in hope of finding more of their kind, those who carried the genes for shapeshifting.

Very few had been discovered, but each of them had been brought into the pack, taught to live as a wolf, and encouraged to stay on as part of the ever-growing family of Chanku.

A few had chosen life elsewhere—generally those who preferred solitude to life within the pack. Still, they all kept in contact with her father, and all acknowledged Anton Cheval as the über-alpha, their pack leader.

Just as every one of them looked to Keisha Rialto as the true power over all Chanku. Lily was so proud of her mom, and like everyone else, recognized the quiet strength in the woman who had easily brought über-alpha and powerful wizard Anton Cheval to his knees. Her father might act like the ruler of his own kingdom, but even he acknowledged his mate’s alpha nature.

Of all the known Chanku, none of them, as far as Lily knew, were evil. As wolves they had the power to kill, but they also lived by a code of honor. Evil was a trait that would have shown up very quickly. One thing she’d learned to count on with the pack was the way they watched out for one another. They truly were a family, and if someone had problems, they were the pack’s problems to be dealt with and solved before they were put aside.

But someone was raping and killing young women, and if it wasn’t Chanku, it was someone intending to make it look like Chanku. Lily circled the garden once again.

Her nose wrinkled at the stench of old blood and death, and the overlying sense of something terribly wrong. She couldn’t place it, knew that, if asked, she’d not be able to describe it, but she also knew she would never forget it.

Finally, satisfied there was nothing more she could learn, she turned away and trotted slowly back to the spot where she’d left her clothes.

Her joy in the night felt tarnished, just like her mother’s garden. She was absolutely certain it would be a long time before she ran this way again.


Sebastian adjusted the bow tie on the black silk shirt he’d selected to wear with his tux and once again checked the time. The week had flown by, but he’d spent the hours immersed in his father’s collection of books on magical theory and practice, and he felt as if he’d strengthened his own magic through knowledge. Now it was time to study another kind of magic.

Tonight’s reception was his first truly public event with his father—though why the man had chosen a reception in San Francisco honoring the Montana neighbor he claimed to despise really didn’t make much sense.

No matter. Aldo Xenakis had an amazing, inbred charisma. When he walked into a room, people naturally gravitated toward him and gathered about him. When he spoke, they listened. When he gave an order, no one asked why.

They merely did his bidding.

That was the thing that had stood out the first time Sebastian met his father, the trait that had impressed him the most. He’d since studied the man carefully, watching the way he moved, the words he used, the intonation of his voice.

Tonight Sebastian would do as he always had—he’d keep his mouth shut and stand beside the man he knew he’d never fully understand, and continue to do his best to figure him out.

How else was he going to learn how to move within the same rarified social circles? His mother certainly hadn’t had the opportunity. No, she’d spent her life living alone and afraid, focusing entirely on her only son. Loving him.

He sighed. She’d loved him all right, but she’d lied to him, too. He wondered what his life would be like if he’d never found her divorce papers or his original birth certificate with his mother’s real name—one listing Aldo Xenakis as his father.

How different would things be if he’d never hunted for the man, if he’d listened to his mother’s pleas that he leave well enough alone?

She’d asked him to promise. On her death bed she’d begged him to promise he would never search for his father.

He hadn’t been able to do it. Hadn’t even had the guts to lie to her. She’d gone to her grave, telling him he was making a terrible mistake.

Some days he had to agree. But then, some days . . .

“Sebastian?”

“Yes, Father?” He glanced at his father’s reflection in the mirror and corralled his unsettling thoughts. Aldo stood in the doorway, still dressed in his everyday dark suit.

“I’m sorry,” he said, studying Sebastian as if he was some sort of exotic bug, “but I will not be attending tonight’s event after all.”

Sebastian turned slowly and watched his father, wondering what the old man was up to now.

“I’ve had some other business come up,” he said. His stare was direct, his manner as formal as always. “You will go. I understand Mr. and Mrs. Cheval will not be at the reception. Their daughter will represent them.”

Interesting. Why would that matter? Well, two could play this game . . . if a game it was.

Of course, with his father, it was always a game—or a contest—of some sort. “Which one?” Sebastian checked his cuff links as he spoke. “Don’t they have two daughters?”

“They do. The oldest girl, the one who runs Cheval International. Her name is Lily. Lily Cheval. She’s single, very intelligent. She’s also quite attractive.”

That caught his attention. Sebastian raised his head. “You’ve met her?”

Aldo nodded. “This week.”

“Why do you mention her?” He watched his father’s face. As usual, the man gave away nothing.

He shrugged, as if the question meant little to him. “You’re young. You’re not seeing anyone. I thought you might be interested.”

Sebastian raised one eyebrow. “You’re playing matchmaker? With the daughter of the most powerful Chanku alpha alive? A man you openly dislike? Why do I find that so interesting, Father? So unlike you.”

There was the slightest flicker of . . . what? Indecision? Discomfort? Now that was a rarity. He focused on Aldo’s eyes. Dark brown. So dark they almost appeared black. Nothing like his own, but their physical resemblance was still remarkable. The same tall, lean build, the pronounced widow’s peak, a certain intensity . . .

“Matchmaker?” His father chuckled. Unconvincingly. “Not at all. I merely thought you would feel more comfortable attending without me if you knew our neighbor’s daughter would be there.”

“I’ve never met her. Never had any desire to. She is, after all, the enemy, isn’t she? Or at least the enemy’s daughter.”

His father’s eyes went wide. Sebastian almost laughed. The man couldn’t look innocent no matter how hard he tried.

“I’ve never said that. Anton Cheval and I have met on more than one occasion. We are always quite civil to one another. I have issues with the species as a whole, but not any one shifter in particular.”

“I guess I misunderstood. Still, I don’t see how her presence should change things.” Sebastian turned away from his father, but he watched him in the mirror as he finished adjusting his bow tie. “I hope your business goes well.”

Aldo nodded and left the room. Sebastian watched him leave, aware of a faint buzzing in his head. He’d noticed it a lot lately. Almost as if someone pushed at his mind.

From the inside.

It wasn’t until the bedroom door closed quietly behind his father that he remembered to breathe.


Lily stared into the vanity mirror and clipped the diamond studs first to one ear and then the other. Such a nuisance, not being able to pierce her ears, but the holes closed up after every shift, and it was hardly worth the trouble.

She smoothed her hands down over the silky fabric and wondered if this was the right dress for the CEO of the largest import business in the city to wear to an event honoring her father. Dark russet shimmered over her skin. The halter top plunged deep in front and was almost nonexistent in the back. The color shifted with reflected light. Turn this way, the gown looked black, that way, russet. Yet in the direct light it was a brilliant, almost metallic copper.

Almost an exact match to her hair and close to her caramel skin. She’d chosen to wear her hair long and loose tonight. Thank the goddess the tight ringlets of her childhood had loosened into softer waves and manageable curls after so many years of shifting.

Even so, it hung almost to her hips when it was dry, but stretched past her butt when wet. Leaving it loose when the back of the dress dipped to the upper curve of her buttocks kept her from feeling half naked, though she loved the sensual feel of her thick hair sweeping over her bare back and arms.

Arousal blossomed, and she took a deep, controlling breath. Probably not a good idea to run again this afternoon, but damn, she’d felt so trapped this week. Trapped and frustrated by too many pressures coming from too many directions.

The murders, the press hounding her for comments, this reception. Damn, she really didn’t want to go to this event tonight. She’d rather be running through the tall grass on the flanks of Mount Tamalpais than forcing her feet into these damned high heels and worrying if her dress was apropos or not.

She wished Alex had been able to come. He’d have had her laughing by now, but he hadn’t been able to make it down for the reception. She really needed him tonight, if only to burn off the rush of sexual need that always followed a shift.

But Alex was trapped on the investigation in Montana, and it was up to Lily to represent Cheval International tonight. She wondered what he’d discovered, if anything. After the bombshell he’d dropped on her this morning, she’d been so upset she’d walked out of her office and headed straight for Mount Tam. She’d badly needed a chance to breathe some fresh air and think.

Sebastian Xenakis had been in Montana last weekend, when that body was discovered. He was in San Francisco the night the latest victim had died. But could he shift? The only thing they had was Tinker’s nose, the fact he’d followed the scent of a strange wolf and it had led directly across the Xenakis property.

Right to the staircase leading up to the huge Xenakis home.

Her father’s warning floated through her mind, and she looked longingly at the beautifully designed grotto in the bathroom behind her. Natural stone with live ferns and orchids growing from carefully camouflaged pots, a series of showerheads designed to mimic falling rain, and a deep pool off to one side with the option of soaking in an inexcusable amount of hot water with lots of bubbles and all the jets going—it sounded so much more appealing than tonight’s event.

It was definitely preferable to meeting someone who might be a killer and a rapist, of having to carry on polite conversation. What would she do if she recognized his scent? She knew she’d never forget the mix of wolf and man, the stench of pain and death she’d smelled on her run through Golden Gate Park a couple of nights back.

She was certain she’d be introduced to Sebastian Xenakis tonight. The fact they were both young and single, the offspring of very powerful men, made it a given that someone, somewhere, would be pushing them together.

If only for the photo op.

She really wasn’t cut out for this. All the publicity, the schmoozing with people who’d stab her in the back as easily as they’d buy her a drink. Who the hell did she think she was kidding?

You can do this, sweetheart.

Dad? What are you doing in my head? Usually she knew when he was hanging around. She must be more concerned about the evening than she’d realized.

Listening to you worry. You must have inherited that trait from me. Your mother never worries.

Lily snorted. Not a very ladylike response, but her father was right. That’s because she knows you’ll do it for her.

True. Relax. Enjoy yourself tonight. Don’t make a special effort to meet young Mr. Xenakis. It will happen in good time.

It’s going to happen tonight.

There was a long pause. Lily heard her own heartbeat. She could practically see her father nodding as he considered his response.

Okay, he said. How do you feel about that?

I’ll be fine. I probably won’t call you until tomorrow.

Is that a hint for me to stay out of your head?

Yes. Good night. I love you, Dad. Now go. Give Mom a hug for me.

He didn’t answer, but his laughter echoed in her mind.

And Lily realized her nervousness was gone. Someday she’d figure out how he did that.

She just hoped this sense of calm lasted.

She was dressed to the max and running late. Her libido was working on overtime and her imagination wasn’t much better. So be it. Grabbing her handbag, Lily slipped out the door. The company limo she’d called for earlier waited in front of the house.

The driver opened the door, and she slid into the backseat. “Museum of Modern Art,” she said, checking her handbag for the speech she’d prepared.

The notes were there. She’d done this sort of thing a hundred times. So why was she so uptight about tonight?

And what if Aldo Xenakis approached her with his slimy comments, the way he’d done when she’d met him on Monday? And how the hell was she going to deal with his son?

Somehow, she just couldn’t drag up any good feelings about the coming evening. As they drove into town, she found herself turning in her seat, looking back in the direction of the mountain.

What kind of CEO would rather be running as a wolf across the grassy hillside? With a deep sigh, Lily turned and faced forward. Time to put on her business face and act like a grown-up, whether she wanted to or not.