Trey’s tone conveyed his desperation. “What’s it going to be?”
He glanced at Emory, taking note of the alarming changes that had overtaken the once proud, dangerous and powerful Alpha. His eyes were crazed, his appearance unkempt and his behavior odd. It happened when a shifter found his or her mate and was forced to deny the connection. In Diskant’s case, it had been easier to mask his longing for Ava during her absence as he could take relief from all of the packs, relying on their strength and calm. Emory, however, was a lone wolf without anyone beneath him to shoulder the burden.
If it had been five weeks since he’d seen Mary, he was likely going mad.
“I want an explanation from the vampire and your word that if the shit hits the fan you’ll take care of Emory. He’s on the brink, Trey. I can’t risk having a crazed wolf in the city.”
“Done.”
Trey’s eyes shifted to the area behind his shoulder, alerting him into the fact that they were no longer alone. Diskant knew the breeds of those approaching by the various beasts inside him who answered the call, all of which were four-footed, feline predators, which he expected. When it came to shifter breeds, two species were prominent—feline and canine. Those were the two that held most sway in things, including snafus such as this. Taking that into account, it was too dangerous for the birds of prey, reptiles or scavengers to show themselves. In a hand-to-hand scuffle they didn’t bring much to the table, and things could quickly become deadly. More than likely they’d make an appearance later in the evening, when the crowds died down, or appeal for a private audience.
Trey sat back and Diskant turned, keeping Pinkie seated firmly on his lap, his hand possessively placed across the vulnerable softness of her stomach. She fidgeted for a moment before she settled against him, so tiny in his embrace that her head was nestled comfortably beneath his chin.
The Alpha and Betas for the New York prides entered—jaguar, leopard, cheetah, lion, tiger, panther and lynx—identifiable by their sleek, elegant gaits. Unlike humans, their hair wasn’t simple blonds, browns, or blacks. They retained the same hair color as the cat they shifted into, and the best dye job in the world could only hide their natural tresses until their next shift. Unlike the wolves, they weren’t loud or brash. The cat shifters were refined, cunning and arrogant. Their expensive, tailored clothing was rich and lush, the materials intentionally chosen to allow range of movement.
One broke away from the group, taller and more distinct than the rest and, if the feline Alphas in the vicinity were being honest, the most powerful.
Kinsley MacGregor, a sixth-generation black panther, or if one wanted to be technical, one of the rarest breeds of puma in the world. Of all the feline shifters, Kinsley was the one Diskant knew and trusted most. He was always honest, fair, and managed to keep the rest of the Alphas in line. His raven black hair fell to his shoulders, offsetting his bright, emerald green eyes. For a second those jeweled irises flicked to Pinkie, but very smartly, and respectfully, turned the fuck away. Like the other cats, he was swathed in leather from hip to toe—his being black instead of tan or white—although his shirt was of the casual, white button-down variety.
“What news do you bring, Omega?” His accent, though faded by the years spent in the States, was heavy. His thick, twin brows came together as he stopped a foot away from the table, blocking out the roomful of shifters behind him.
No sense in delaying the inevitable.
“Shepherds are in town. They’re responsible for the missing shifters. The bodies are down in a warehouse in Red Hook.”
Kinsley didn’t mince words or waste time. “Who’s to blame for their visit?”
“It’s not necessary to reveal that.” Diskant kept Ava where she was when she wriggled her lush little ass against him and tried to move. Like this—seated in a bar amongst his pack, with his mate in his lap—he appeared at ease with his decision. Placing her where he wanted her most—in another, safer location—would only send out warning signals. “I’m asking you to take my word that it’s under control.”
“Which is a roundabout way of saying it’s a wolf matter,” Kinsley retorted wryly and nailed Emory with a seething glare. “Considering he’s back in town, why am I not surprised?”
“I need your backing on this,” Diskant continued as the remaining pride members came to the table, the implication clear. All of the cats trusted and supported Kinsley, who was older than most of them by several hundred years. If he supported Diskant’s decision, they would quickly fall in line. Cats weren’t as nitpicky about who got the job done, so long as it was done to their satisfaction.
“If I give you that, I’ll expect you explain everything to me privately.”
“I figured you would.”
Kinsley’s attention drifted to Pinkie, his appreciation evident. The puma breed loved smaller females, the more delicate and lithe the better. “Is this the wee lass I’ve been searching for?”
“Aye,” Diskant mocked and shifted his body, rotating Ava in his lap until her legs dangled outside of the booth and she was gazing up at his face with lips parted and eyes wide.
“Say hello to Kinsley MacGregor.” He lifted his hand and cupped her jaw, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. “He spent a lot of time trying to help me find you.”
“H-hello,” she stuttered but didn’t sever eye contact, gazing into Diskant’s face as the heady scent of her arousal engulfed his nose.
Naturally, he reacted to the fragrant spice, cock growing firm against her plush bottom, filling out the lush line between her rounded cheeks until she inhaled raggedly and her eyes clouded. She pressed her head into his hand, turning until her lips were flush against his palm. A warm, wet lick caressed his skin, followed by another, longer swipe of her tongue.
Sexy little minx.
He considered lifting her up, spreading her across the table and returning the favor. What would she do if he swiped the drinks off the surface, ripped away her clothes and went to his knees before her in front of the entire room? Would she allow him to pleasure her in front of them? To lap away the succulent cream of her cunt as everyone watched? Public displays cemented the union among shifters, reinforcing the strength of their bond. The pack would accept her with open arms at such a display, welcoming her among them as a sister kind.
Nothing would please him more.
As if she knew exactly what he was thinking, she met his lust-filled stare and, after a hesitation, fucking winked as if daring him to do it.
“Pinkie,” he growled a low warning and tightened his hold. Her breath caught and her beautiful, heavily lashed lids dipped as her pupils flared wide, until a rim of midnight blue was all he could see.
Damn the second mark.
Already the fire in his blood refused to abate. He could taste her need, feel it all the way to his bones. From here on in there’d be no stopping them. He wanted to bury his dick from crown to hilt inside her, over and over again until neither could differentiate between the hot satin walls of her pussy and the unrelenting slickness of his cock.
“I hate to break up your fun,” a crass and unwelcome voice intruded, “but we didn’t come here to watch you fuck your mate.”
The luscious expression on Ava’s face evaporated, along with the scent of her desire. She blinked rapidly as if catching herself before a committing a serious and unforgivable fall. Her pupils readjusted until they were tiny pinpoints and she ripped free of his palm. Turning her head, she brought her arms to her midsection and tried to pull herself into a ball.