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Cullen snorted. “Had my way with? What are you? Some flowery, historical romance writer from the last century? And how the fuck do you know where I was and who I was with, much less what we did? If you’re having someone follow me… oh shit, she’s one of yours, isn’t she?”
“Yes, but she was not at the club as an operative. Like you, she needed a release, and you provided her with one—or as she said, more than one.” Colby chuckled and then changed topics. “We need to talk.”
“The fuck we do,” said Cullen, ending the call.
The phone rang again.
“I’m going to leave you to deal with Reynolds. Shall I have Mrs. Badland bring you something for breakfast?” asked Shaw.
“Yes. Thanks, Shaw. Tell her to give me at least fifteen minutes and then I’ll have steak and eggs.” He answered the phone. “Fuck you, Reynolds. What the hell do you want?”
“You arctic wolves are a surly lot, but the fact is we—as in the Resistance and the Shadow Sisters…”
“Oh fuck, no. I’m not dealing with those females again. Somebody should have put an end to them a long time ago. They need to be taken in hand, brought to heel, and mated to alphas who can handle them,” responded Cullen angrily.
Reynolds’s support of the clandestine group of rogue females had become an open secret in the past year. Cullen, on the other hand, had known for much longer than that.
“I know there is no love lost between you and the Shadow Sisters, and for what it’s worth, they’re not thrilled about the idea of working with you, either, but the fact is, you’re the only one who can help them. Or at least, you’re the safest bet.”
“Why?” Cullen asked, beginning, against his own better judgement, to become intrigued and just a bit pissed that the Shadow Sisters might not welcome his help.
“Because as far as anyone has ever been able to tell, only arctic wolves are completely immune to a vampire’s abilities. Shape-shifting, mesmerizing their victims, their bite, everything.”
“Are those daft females now taking in female vampires?”
“Nothing of the sort, but we need your help. The Shadow Sisters have intercepted intel about a potential attack by the Shadow League…”
“The Ghost Moon Pack wants no part of the Resistance or the Shadow League.”
The sound of Colby’s fist slamming on his desk could be heard clearly through the phone. “Damn it, Cullen. If the Shadow League wins, especially if they are colluding—as we believe—with the vampires, I don’t care how far you and your pack fade up into the Aleutian Range. You’ll never be safe, and you won’t survive. At least your men won’t. They have other, far worse plans for your she-wolves.”
Cullen felt a muscle ticking near his eye and sighed. “What do you want?”
“I need you to gather some additional intel so we can get ahead of them and cut them off at the pass, so to speak.”
Cullen sighed and wondered if anyone ever really said no to the lynx-shifter. He doubted it.
“Fine.”
CHAPTER 3
SALEM
The man behind her rushed towards Salem. She stepped back and slammed her body into his, her right shoulder brushing past his chest. With one hand she grabbed his shirt and used her body as a fulcrum to shove and twist him past her, jerking his arm out of its socket and making him stumble. She stabbed Mr. Pointy into his torso, missing his heart.
“You’re dead,” he shouted.
“Not yet,” Salem responded.
The original attacker ran forward. Salem grabbed his arm, twisting it until the heel of his hand pointed toward the sky. Pivoting, she put her right shoulder under his elbow. As the vampire—if that’s what he really was—made a grab for her chin in order to get at her neck, Salem jerked down on his arm. She wasn’t sure which she liked more: the sound of his screaming or that of his arm breaking. She was pretty sure it was the bone snapping.
Pushing her fear and disbelief aside, Salem spun back towards him, punching him twice in the nose and kicking him in the knee. Once again, she was rewarded with the sound of bone crunching. As he bent forward, Salem reached underneath him, shoving Mr. Pointy right into his heart. The thing, person… whatever it was… vaporized before her eyes.
Her blood hummed, the vampire’s death driving some deep, dark energy inside her into a frenzy. She turned toward the other attacker, only to see another man melt out of the shadows and stake the other would-be assailant, who also vaporized.
Salem backed off, giving herself room to fight and moving her weight from foot to foot while holding Mr. Pointy threateningly. The man held up his hands and moved them down the front of his duster, opening it wide to show he was unarmed.
“I mean you no harm, Special Agent Hubbard.”
