Wolves' Bane (The Order of the Wolf, #3)

“Are you two at it again?” Lance’s teasing drawl had them both jerking their heads toward the door. “You guys need to get a room.”


Cal stormed over to him, one fist raised as if to punch, the other aiming to grip Lance’s shirt. Lance saw it coming and ducked under Cal, easily moving closer to Morgan. Cal spun to face him, his anger boiling over at the loss of a target. “What the fuck were you thinking? Why would you leave Morgan alone out there?”

Lance frowned as he tilted his head to the side and scanned Morgan slowly from head to toe. “Why? She looks fine. Nothing’s going to happen to her, Cal. She’s protected, remember?”

Cal took two steps toward him, his fist raised again. “Something called her name, Lance.”

Lance’s eyebrows shot up as he looked from Cal to Morgan. “No shit?”

Morgan rested her hand on Lance’s arm and Cal’s temperature rose even higher, his attention riveted to that hand.

“It’s okay, Lance. It wasn’t your fault.”

Cal jerked his gaze back to Lance. “Like hell it wasn’t.”

Lance raised his hands in defense. “Whoa there, Cal. I mean, yes, it’s very disconcerting that something was in the woods this morning.” He turned to Morgan and gave one of his usual lopsided grins. “The beasts don’t usually venture out during the day.” When he turned back to Cal, the smile was gone. “It couldn’t have been Lazarus. He wouldn’t risk it. He’s too weak this time of day.”

“That’s exactly why I’m so pissed. That boundary is only protection against werewolves. Not humans. What if someone else is after her?”

Lance shook his head, his expression one of utter disbelief. “Oh, come on. What or who would even know she’s here?”

Cal unclenched his fist and began to remove the tape that still bound his right hand. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

“I want to come,” Morgan piped up, meeting his look of warning without flinching.

“No,” Cal said as he tossed the last of the wrappings in the garbage. He quickly grabbed his hoodie from the rack behind him and pulled it on. “No fucking way, Morgan. You stay here.”

Morgan clenched her jaw and glared at Cal, folding her arms. “I’m supposed to be the Huntress. Shouldn’t I be allowed to hunt with you?”

Cal shook his head, not believing they were actually having this conversation. “You’re not a Huntress yet,” he snapped.

Lance laid his hand on Morgan’s shoulder and gave her another wry smile when she looked over at him. “Listen hon, it’s not safe. Cal’s right. You should stay here with Candy. Why don’t you go upstairs and get some real breakfast,” he said, rolling his eyes toward what was left of the energy bar.

Cal’s stomach churned when Morgan’s scowl dissolved into a defeated smile for Lance.

“Do me a favor and keep this quiet,” he added. “I don’t want Candy to get freaked out, okay?”

Morgan nodded and with one last angry look at Cal, she headed out the door. He knew she was doing it to spite him—she would never have agreed so easily if it was just the two of them.

Once she was gone, Cal’s anger flared again and he charged Lance, lashing him with a surprise upper cut to the jaw. It was a cheap blow, but Cal didn’t care—Lance had it coming.

The shot knocked Lance back a few steps, staggering him as his head rolled to the side. Once he regained his footing, he swung around, his hands raised to defend, not to counterattack.

“You son of a bitch. I trusted you.” Cal lunged again.

Lance knocked Cal’s next shot away and pounded a few quick jabs into his shoulder. “Oh yeah, you’re really keeping things tamped down, aren’t you? No problem keeping your emotions in check, huh, buddy?”

Cal flinched at the sarcasm and took another swipe, too angry to heed the underlying message. “You don’t understand what I’m feeling.”

“I may not understand what it feels like to have found my Huntress, but I do understand how badly you’re fucking things up with her. You’re acting like an ass, man.”

Cal growled as he launched himself again, his one fist easily deflected while the other hit home.

Lance groaned as he bent over double, sucking in a deep breath and holding his left hand out to stop another attack. “Listen, Cal,” he gasped. “You can beat the shit out of me or we can go and check this out. It’s up to you.” He pulled himself halfway up, his hand still cradling his midsection. “But if it were me, I’d rather use my energy to fight the real enemy.”

Cal lowered his fists slightly as Lance’s words sank in, and his anger deflated. “Shit.”

“You’re right. I shouldn’t have left her. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I didn’t see the harm in her turning back toward the house. She hadn’t made it very far before she got a cramp.” Lance rolled his shoulder as he straightened himself out. “I screwed up, okay? But she’s not hurt, and she can’t be too scared if she’s willing to go out there and search for whatever spooked her.”