Page 2 of Banished From the Pack

“And you’re going to go kick some ass, am I right?” She stands and sashays toward me, placing her small hand on my bicep.

The too-familiar gesture makes me tense.

Ama regards me through thick black lashes. “Do you think it’s wise to go off all half-cocked like this? Shouldn’t you think things through?”

“You’re probably right, but fuck that. I’m sick of this shit.” I step back from her, and her hand drifts to her side.

She sighs the way she always does when I rebuff her affection. “You know,” she begins, licking her lips. “If you’d take a mate, you’d be the strongest wolf in southeast territory. No one would fuck with our pack.”

“This again.” I tromp to the porch steps and lower myself onto them, with my booted feet two steps down.

The air outside is sultry and thick, like clotted cream, bringing instant sweat to my limbs and neck. Holding my head in my hands, I consider her words. Of course I need a mate. I’m already thirty, for fucks’ sake. I should have mated years ago when I became Alpha of the Jacksonville pack. I just haven’t found the right partner. Holding out hope for a True Mate is a romantic notion that I should have outgrown a long time ago. A True Mate is like a soul mate to a human. It’s a wonderful thing, but you don’t waste your life waiting for one to show up. True Mates are rare. Most of the other Alphas in the country don’t have them. They chose partners who were strong, cunning, and politically connected. I need to do the same. It’s long overdue.

Ama sidles over and sits next to me on the step. “You know,” she says in a dulcet voice. Her fingertips trail along my forearm. “I’m available.”

I withdraw my arm from her ministrations and brush the lingering sensation from my skin. I already fucked Ama and know she’s not my True Mate, but she’d be a good mate nonetheless. The thought sits uneasy in me, though. I blow out a lungful of air. “That’s real sweet. But you know I can be a handful.”

“I can handle a handful,” she says, walking her fingers up my arm.

Abruptly, I stand. “I don’t have time for this right now. I’ve got a vampire problem to deal with.”

Ama stands, too, a frown creasing her brow. “Don’t get yourself killed.”

I hold up two fingers to my chest. “Wolf scout’s honor.”

I head for the beat-up old pickup, not looking back at what is sure to be disappointment painted all over Ama’s face.

Engine roaring, I speed down the wet street, spraying water in a rooster tail behind me. I have a new plan that doesn’t include the fucking vamps.

At least not directly.

Once outside the city limits, I floor it and roar toward Wild Wolf Swamp, aptly named, since our clan used to live there. Now, it’s nothing but a waterlogged cesspool where panther shifters hunt and old-timers like Sterlina Vayzen cling to their tiny plots of land and take refuge at Gideon’s Bar during floods. I wouldn’t be going there at all except that Sterlina’s the most powerful diviner in the area, and though I’m convinced I don’t have a True Mate, I have to make damn sure before I choose someone else to fill the role. I can’t imagine a worse fate than giving up and having a brood of kids with some other woman, only to then find my True Mate.

When I arrive at the witch’s treehouse, a giant gator crawls from beneath her tree and waddles toward the water, where it slips silently into the murky, liquid embrace of the swamp. More gators make their presence known by the bulge of their eyes lining the surface of the water. Spanish moss drapes listlessly from the trees as if exhausted from the incessant heat, and vultures line each branch, watching as if hoping I’ll turn into their next meal.

I hop down from the truck and stride toward the bell dangling from a tree branch, swatting mosquitos as I go. Grabbing the bell, I shake it back and forth, making it clang so loud that birds scatter from the nearby trees and wheel into the sky overhead.

“Think I don’t know you’re here already, shifter?” calls a voice like dried grass.

Shielding my eyes with my palm, I tip my head back to try and find her, but the sun prevents me from seeing anything but harsh light. “My truck’s hard to miss.”

“It’s your scent that makes itself known, wolfie. That and your intention. You projected your desire to come and see me the second you stepped from your porch.” A phlegmy cough rattles her throat. “You’re not going to like the answer to your question.”

I still can’t see her. It’s like asking the sun to give me information. “What’s the answer? Tell me, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Not so fast. I need cash.”

“How much?” My eyes sting from the sun’s assault, but I don’t look away. I’ve heard this lady’s tough, but I’m a match for anyone in the area.

She names her price, and I curse under my breath. “I’ll give you half that. It’s all I’ve got.”

“Full price.”

“I don’t have it.”

“Then I don’t have an answer for you. Go on then. Be off with you!.”

Nearby, birds chitter and rustle in the foliage surrounding her treehouse.