Bonnie Vanak - The Covert Wolf

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As loyalties collide, will passions ignite? When a mission gone wrong kills his best friend, Navy SEAL Matthew Parker will stop at nothing to destroy the demons threatening his team. Matt must locate a mysterious magical object before the demons use it to destroy the world. But the only woman who can help him – Sienna McClare – has her own agenda and every reason to hate his kind…Half-blood Sienna hopes returning the magic orb to her people will gain her acceptance back into the only family she’s known. But working with a Draicon werewolf like Matt comes with a high price. And falling in love with him would cast her out of her fae community forever…

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Fair enough. Though he doubted it would change anything. They were too opposite. Too different in their worlds.

Matt closed his eyes, seeing the sand swirl around him, feeling it sting his face. Smelling the heat and the arid air, the sharp tang of metal. He told the story, each word slicing open wounds that were still fresh. When he got to the part where Adam died, he struggled to speak.

“The pyrokinetic demons caught up with Adam outside. I heard him …”

Scream.

Moisture filled Sienna’s eyes. She slid a hand over the table, but Matt pulled back. He couldn’t let her touch him. Couldn’t break apart.

“You tried to help. You were amazingly brave in facing the demons. You did the best you could,” she said gently.

“It wasn’t enough.”

The image came back to him, searing pain from the burns, shoving down the oily panic clogging his throat as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

“When I regained consciousness, I didn’t dare radio back for help. The Darksider Fae could be imitating any one of the troops. Shay was on standby. Called him and made him give me the code of our squad. He came and fetched me, did a glamour so it looked like I was fine. Our C.O.—you met him, Lieutenant Commander Curtis—made sure I had private quarters to recover. Then he did a cleanse of everyone who’d come into contact with Adam. No one remembered him, or that he’d ever come to Afghanistan.”

“Oh, Matt,” she said softly. “That must have been horrible.”

Here was the one person he could talk to about Adam. Sienna, a stranger, who silently forged the connection he’d needed back on the subway. The safety clicked off his hard-won control. Words burst out of him like machine-gun fire.

“It was as if he’d never existed. He was my swim buddy. We went through BUD/S together—we were teammates, best friends. I was closer to him than my own family. I was there at his mating ceremony. And I couldn’t even be there at his damn funeral because I had to pretend I never knew him. Because no one is supposed to know about the Phoenix Force. So when we die, all memories die with us.”

A stray tear escaped, sliding down Sienna’s perfect cheek. Seeing her cry for Adam made him no longer feel alone in his grief, but also made him protective. Made him want to cup her face in his hands and kiss away her tears. He hated seeing her cry. Matt lifted a hand, then dropped it. Gods, he felt so damned confused lately.

“What about his body?”

“We made a promise in the team. No man gets left behind. Shay returned for Adam, but couldn’t find anything. The pyro demons had reduced him to ash, and his ashes had been taken by the wind. There was nothing left of him to return to Tatiana, his widow. Nothing.”

After wiping her eyes with a napkin, Sienna covered his hand with her own. “I’m sorry, Matt, for what the Darksider Fae did to you. To Adam.”

First-name basis. No more Lieutenant Parker. And she’d said Adam’s name again. He struggled against the urge to kiss her senseless in thanks and took a long pull of his water.

Backhanding his mouth, he shook his head. “I should have saved my buddy. We were tight. Always watched each other’s backs.”

She stroked his wrist, her thumb making little circles. Always calm and cool, his rare outburst was alarming. It was Sienna, her soft, sweet smile and genuine air of concern. She dug beneath his defenses, past the emotional berm he’d erected since Adam’s death.

“Too crowded in here,” he muttered, glancing around. “Let’s get back. I’ll arrange for transport, airline tickets.”

“To New Mexico?”

Matt nodded. “Home of your friend Tim. I’ll do some initial recon …”

As she gave him a questioning look, he sighed. “Reconnaissance. Scout out the shop and the lay of the land for a couple of days. And then move in. If the pyro demons know he has the Orb, those guys aren’t patient. I need to retrieve it before they do.”

Back at the house, Sienna watched Matt type on his laptop. Since returning, he’d been quiet and aloof. When he snapped the computer shut, she waved a hand.

“Hello? Remember me? The one who’s working with you?”

He gave her a long, cool look. “Not anymore. The stakes have changed. I know who has the Orb, and how to get it back. I’m sending you home.”

A quivering began in her belly. Sienna took a controlling breath. “Not so fast. I understand you’re angry at my people.”

Matt remained silent.

“But I didn’t steal the Orb. We’re a team in this, got it? Those were the terms. We both get the Orb and I show my people it’s safe once more.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “Safe for how long? Your people did a helluva job guarding it. It’s because of them Adam’s dead.”

Sienna’s throat tightened. She felt his anger, his pain and frustration. But she had to convince him to let her stay. If he forced her return, he’d wipe her memories….

Her precious memories.

Worse, the name of her people would be forever smeared with disgrace. Now more than ever, it was crucial she finish this task and restore their honor.

Sienna took his palm and unfolded it, studying the rough calluses and strong fingers. “The Fae believe that when someone dies and their ashes are scattered to the four winds, it doesn’t mean that person is lost. He then becomes part of the earth and part of every living thing. That’s what became of Adam. He lives on in every breath of wind, in the laughter of every child.”

Silence draped the air. His shoulders relaxed, losing the tightly wound tension that knotted them. He lifted his face, his eyes very blue.

“All Fae are not evil,” she said gently. “Even the Unseelie, the Dark Fae, have their good side. The Darksider Fae are rogue, but they are few and live outside the boundaries and clan system of Fae. We Seelie Sidhe Fae are secluded and insular, but compassionate. We respect all living beings.”

His gaze sharpened. “A compassionate people. Then what put the chip on your shoulder about me, Sienna? About werewolves?”

Dropping his hand, she studied the tips of her faded sneakers. Fae preferred bare feet, touching the earth to maintain contact. She never had.

“Hey.” A firm hand cradled her chin, lifting it upward. His palm was warm and strong. “Tell me. What did we do to you?”

The gentleness of his touch made her toes curl inside the sneakers. Sienna took a deep breath for courage. Maybe if he knew, he’d cut her a break and let her stay.

“I’m not pure-blooded Sidhe. I’m only a half-breed. Half Fae and half Draicon.”

At his startled look, she yanked away and grated out the damned truth. “Mothered by a Fae from the Los Lobos colony, and fathered by a Draicon who raped her … and then killed her when his pack came back to try to claim me.”

Panic squeezed her heart as flashes of the past emerged, like a rapid slideshow. “ Probably killed her when he raided the Fae colony to get me.”

“Sweet gods. How old were you?” His voice was gentle, contrasting with the hard edges of his expression.

“I think around five, maybe four. I don’t remember that much.”

“No wonder you dislike Draicon.”

Dislike was a lukewarm term. For years she’d hated them. It was a relief to finally talk about what happened. Among her people, it had been an ugly secret no one ever discussed. “It’s so much easier to hate than try to understand. It’s fueled me for so long that it’s hard to let go.”

“Hate does that to you. It feeds you power to seek justice.” Matt’s expression tightened. “You were just a little thing. I’d kill the bast … the Draicon who did that to your mother. Did she ever say who it was?”

“I don’t remember much. I’ve tried.” Hands curled tight, she watched her knuckles whiten. “Aunt Chloe rescued me during the attack. The Fae beat back the Draicon pack. I think … they killed my father. I don’t know! I want to know, but I can’t remember.” Misery knotted her throat. “I have snatches of dreams, of images. Chloe told me when the time was right, I’d learn the truth. About what, and who, I really am. But I know what I am. The daughter of a vicious killer.” Her voice dropped to a bare whisper. “So what does that make me?”

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