Kiss of Snow

If he called her, she would come. He hadn’t been an Arrow like Judd, but he’d had his own reasons for learning to read people—he knew that in spite of the fact that their friendship appeared irreparably damaged, Lara had the softest of hearts. The second he mentioned his concern about Sienna, he’d have her immediate attention. And the instant she was in his quarters . . . images of kiss-wet lips, of a warm feminine form under his hands.

His body grew hard.

It was an unwelcome reminder of how she impacted him, how she skewed the rules on which he’d rebuilt his life. He took his finger off the Call button . . . and got up. There was a chance he could catch her at the infirmary.





BY midnight, fighting the constant compulsion to track down Sienna had gnawed Hawke’s temper to a fine edge. It wasn’t the best of times for him to receive a call from the manager of Wild, the changeling-owned bar and dance club that sat in a small but popular nightlife area just beyond the edge of den territory.

“Hawke, I need you to come pick up your pups.”

Hawke rubbed his forehead. The only time José ever called him was when things had progressed to breaking point. “How much?”

“No bill for damages,” José said to his surprise. “But if you don’t get here soon, you’ll probably be bailing a few of them out of jail.” The deer changeling—a dominant bull who could bash heads with the best of them, for all that he was non-predatory—hung up.

“Shit.” Already dressed in jeans and a T-shirt since he’d been wide awake, he pulled on well-worn work boots, then buzzed Riley.

His lieutenant was not impressed. “Do you know what time it is?”

“Yeah, yeah. How many of them went down to Wild tonight?” Riley would know. Riley knew everything.

“Seven, but Ebony and Amos were in San Francisco for a security run”—a small pause—“and the system’s not showing them logging back into the den, so they probably took a detour.”

“Thanks.”

“You’ll need a second driver.”

“Stay snuggled up to Mercy,” Hawke said, already halfway to the garage. “I’ll get one of the night-shift people.”

“Don’t be too hard on them.”

Hawke paused. “What?”

“You’re in a mean mood, Hawke. Don’t take it out on them.”

Growling, Hawke snapped the phone shut. He was alpha for a reason—and part of it was that he knew how to handle his people. Of course, Riley was also his most senior lieutenant for a reason. “Shit.” Jogging the rest of the way to the garage, he volunteered Elias as the second driver. “Were they driving when they went down?”

Elias checked the computronic log. “Yep. Two vehicles. GPS says they’re both parked a five-minute walk from the club.”

“Good. We’ll drive one down—you can bring up the second. One of the soldiers on city security tomorrow can swing by and pick up the other.”

The drive took more than an hour, and Hawke hoped like hell the young group hadn’t gotten into worse trouble in the meantime. Since José’s radar was finely tuned, chances were good he’d alerted Hawke in plenty of time.

Parking the vehicle a block away, he and Elias made it to Wild around one thirty in the morning. The bouncer, one of José’s big, strapping cousins, raised his hand in a wave when he saw them. “That pretty little one with the cherry-tinted hair”—he whistled—“where you been hiding her?”

Hawke went motionless.





Chapter 9


“WHAT’S THE TROUBLE?” he asked, the wolf in his voice.

The other male avoided his eyes, as if aware Hawke was too much on edge to accept even the slightest challenge. “Go in and see.”

Entering the bar, he stayed to the shadows as he took in the lay of the land. The place was full of humans and changelings—leopard, wolf, deer, swan, even a Rat. Their scents were clear threads to him, even entangled as they were in the confined space. Most of the non-predatories stuck together, while the predatories did the same. But wolf and leopard were mingling. Plenty.

Ebony was currently happily pasted up against a cat, while Riordan was all but devouring a leopard girl with his eyes as the two of them stood talking a small distance from the dance floor. Evie—oh, dear God, but Indigo was going to blow a gasket—was dressed in a tiny strapless dress made from some sparkly fabric that only just covered everything that should be covered. She was also giggling and drunk, a frothy pink cocktail in hand. Tai sat holding her against his chest, looking sober. Maybe there was hope for them yet.

Maria, Cadie, and the rest were out front, cheering.

At Sienna.

Who was dancing on the bar.

In fuck-you boots and a shirt that barely contained her breasts.

Eyes going wolf, Hawke began to stride through the crowd. A few aggressive young males turned to give him a talking-to . . . and froze, their gazes jerking away when they met the dominance in his own. Even the humans understood, going pale as they moved out of his path as fast as possible.

He realized part of the reason for José’s call when he saw the human men lined up along the bar, all of them with a look in their eye that said they’d spill blood to possess the woman who danced with such wild, sensual grace. The SnowDancer males would, of course, have defended her with fists and claws the instant anyone tried to touch her.