Varyk growled the sound of a wolf on the verge of ripping out a throat. Instead of beating Dev, he turned on Stone and grabbed him by the arm to haul him out of Peltier House.
"Do you mind?" Stone snapped as soon as they were on the street. "I'm not your girlfriend."
Varyk grabbed him by the throat in a crushing grip. "Exactly. I have no reason to not slap you down or kill you." He squeezed hard before he let go.
Coughing to clear his throat, Stone glared at him. "What is your problem?"
"My problem is that I had to suffer the stench of those animals to save your spoiled-rotten ass. I'm not your father and there's no genetic coding between us to make me want to save you ever again. Tread carefully, boy. Next time I'll leave you there."
"What about my father?"
Varyk didn't respond as he walked down the street and disappeared into the night.
Stone straightened his jacket with a sharp tug. "Yeah, you keep walking, punk. You ever touch me like that again and I'll beat you down." Of course he didn't say that loud enough for the werewolf to hear him. He wasn't completely stupid.
Looking back over his shoulder, he glared at Sanctuary. "Your days are numbered, bears."
And so were the ones for the Katagaria wolves. His father had no idea they were in town. But Stone was going to make sure he was enlightened immediately.
Then they would rain hell wrath down on the whole lot of them.
Fang lay in his wolf's form, sleeping on a soft grassy bed. But even while he dozed, he was alert to everything around him. He'd been that way since he was a pup. More to the point, he'd had to be that way since he was a pup. Even though he and Vane were the sons of their patria's Regis, they were subjected to the worst from not only their father, but from those under his direct command, such as Stefan.
Their father blamed them for the fact that their Arcadian mother had refused to complete the mating ritual with him. Her rejection had rendered Markus impotent and hostile.
And her refusal to keep her Katagaria children had made them a target.
So when Anya came near, he jumped awake, ready to fight.
Anya lowered herself to the ground. "It's just me, Fang."
He turned human and held his hand out toward her nose. "Sorry, baby. I didn't know."
She came forward to lick his fingers before she lay down beside him and rested her head on his thigh.
He stroked the fur around her ears. "Is something wrong?"
"I couldn't sleep. Orian is out on patrol and I didn't want to be alone."
"Where's Vane?"
"I'm not sure. He's not in his den or camp. I haven't seen him in a while. Have you?"
"He was off helping that Dark-Hunter who lives in the swamp. Talon. I assumed he'd be back by now." Dark-Hunters were immortal warriors who fought for the goddess Artemis. They hunted down the Were-Hunters' cousins, the Apollites, and killed them whenever they turned Daimon and started preying on human souls to live.
It was rare for Dark-Hunters and Were-Hunters to mix, but not impossible, and over the centuries, Fang and Vane had made friends with a number of them.
Anya sighed heavily. "That's the Dark-Hunter you two fought for the other night, isn't it?"
"Yeah, Talon and Acheron." Acheron was the leader of the Dark-Hunters and a longtime friend of Vane's.
"I wish the two of you would leave them alone. Every time a Were-Hunter mixes with one of them something bad happens."
"Ah, don't worry. It was actually fun. Besides there's a lot of Daimon crap going down and the Dark-Hunters have agreed to help us protect you guys should something happen."
"So say you, but I don't trust them."
"Neither do I, but I do trust Vane and you should too. He would never do anything to cause harm to us or to the pack."