Force of Temptation

  ALSO BY SUZANNE WRIGHT

  From Rags

  THE DARK IN YOU SERIES

  Burn

  Blaze

  THE DEEP IN YOUR VEINS SERIES

  Here Be Sexist Vampires

  The Bite That Binds

  Taste of Torment

  Consumed

  Fractured

  THE PHOENIX PACK SERIES

  Feral Sins

  Wicked Cravings

  Carnal Secrets

  Dark Instincts

  Savage Urges

  THE MERCURY PACK SERIES

  Spiral of Need

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2016 Suzanne Wright

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle

  www.apub.com

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  ISBN-13: 9781503940482

  ISBN-10: 1503940489

  Cover design by Janet Perr

  To Stephen King.

  You’re never going to know this book is dedicated to you and we’re never going to meet (my loss, your gain, because I’m a social nightmare), but even if you did see it you’d be wondering: Why dedicate a romance book to a horror book writer? The answer is: I think you’re just that awesome, and I’m just that weird. In case, through some unlikely miracle, you do ever see it . . . *big wave*

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER ONE

  Harley Vincent! Harley Vincent!”

  For God’s sake. The majority of the population seemed to live and learn, but apparently this woman just lived. Either that or her ski lift didn’t go to the top of the hill. Not that Harley had much room to judge others, considering her family tree was more like a tumbleweed.

  Clutching her bag of groceries tighter, Harley picked up her pace as she headed to the cute little hotel where she was currently staying. She’d been in California for the past four months, where she’d been working in a club. Harley was somewhat of a drifter, but she liked the place and she didn’t feel the urge to go roaming again. Yet.

  Hearing the click-clack of heels, Harley ground her teeth. The bitch had caught up with her. Shit, she should have taken the car. Her inner cat snarled, not at all fond of the fox shifter.

  Digital recorder in hand, Gabrielle Rowan said sweetly, “Harley, how are you this morning?” Like they were lifelong friends.

  Without slowing her pace, Harley sighed at the reporter. “You know, I’ve flushed and flushed and flushed, but I don’t seem able to get rid of you. Why is that?”

  “If you want me gone, all you have to do is give me some information on your father.”

  “Clive Vincent is old news, Gabby.”

  “He was until people began to speculate that he’s the shifter who founded The Movement.”

  People were always “speculating,” always naming certain shifters as the possible leader. Why anyone would think it was Clive, she wasn’t sure. Harley snorted. “Founded The Movement? He was sent to prison before the group even started. How do you expect him to do anything from there?”

  “Come on, Harley, you have to know the truth. He formed the group to fight the extremists, didn’t he?”

  Harley’s cat snarled at the mention of the extremists. Anti-shifter humans had always existed, but nowadays many of them were part of radical, destructive, and violent organized groups that were the bane of every shifter’s existence. They believed that shifters should be electronically chipped, confined to their territory, forbidden from mating with humans, restricted to having one child per couple, and placed on a register like sex offenders. They’d also attacked and bombed several packs worldwide, “culling” the population.

  If the humans had thought there would be no repercussions to the violence, they couldn’t have been more wrong. A group of shifters known as The Movement hunted extremists and retaliated against their attacks, fighting violence with violence. What else would predators do in such a situation?

  “I did a lot of research on you, Harley.”

  Oh, did she now?

  “For the first sixteen years of your life, you were part of a traveling pride of margay wild cats that—let’s face it—was more like a band of reckless free-spirited criminals that had no use for the word ‘sober.’”

  Correct.

  “Few other prides liked or respected yours. They had no useful alliances or resources.”

  Also correct.

  “It made your pride mates easy targets for prejudiced humans.”

  Damn right it did.

  “And that was exactly what your brother became, wasn’t it?”

  At the mention of Michael, a wave of sadness washed over Harley. But she schooled her expression, refusing to give the bitch anything to work with. Rounding a corner, Harley saw the hotel up ahead. Almost there.

  “His death was horrific. Most fathers would want to hunt down each of the humans responsible and then kill them, one by one. The difference is that your father actually did it. Coldly and without mercy. He didn’t even deny it when he was caught and convicted. He was proud of what he’d done. Saw no wrong in it. One psychologist called him a psychopath.”

  Said psychologist probably wasn’t far from the truth.

  “If I were you, I’d be infuriated with your father. By going to prison, he left you. Left you with your human mother, who was so devastated by having limited contact with her mate that she fell apart and couldn’t take care of you. He left you with a pride that was never sober enough to protect you—they just wanted to party hard and live large. That was when your aunt came for you, wasn’t it?”

  It was. Her mother’s family, who was wealthy and had a high standing in society, hadn’t approved of Lily mating with Clive and joining his pride. As such, they had disowned her when she’d refused to reject him. But Lily’s sister, Tess, had occasionally visited. That was how she’d discovered that Harley was having trouble.

  Hell, “trouble” was a mild word. Harley had befriended a wolf from the pack that neighbored the land her pride was squatting on back then. Mia was just fifteen years old and already on her way to being a junkie. Mia’s parents hadn’t wanted to face it, so they’d claimed it was Harley’s “influence” that had sent Mia down that path.

  In truth, Harley had tried to steer Mia away from drugs, not wanting her to end up like Kara, Harley’s aunt from her pride. Hell, she’d even dragged Mia into her aunt’s messy motor home—where Kara had predictably been lying in a pool of her own vomit—and made her see what future awaited her if she didn’t get her shit together. It had actually made a difference. For all of three days.

  Harley knew well that you
could only help an addict if they wanted help. Mia simply hadn’t wanted it. But Mia’s pack had blamed Harley, using her as a scapegoat for Mia’s addiction. They’d cornered and ridiculed her, they’d smashed the windows of her motor home, and they’d even tried to physically assault her on a few occasions. Only one wolf hadn’t blamed her: Mia’s brother, Jesse . . . a wolf Harley had had the world’s worst crush on. Although he’d believed her and looked out for her as best he could, he’d been unable to stop the harassment since, as a juvenile, he’d had no power or real say in the matter.

  An emotional wreck, Lily had been in no position to defend or protect Harley, so Tess had taken her away. Harley’s grandparents had eventually accepted her, though they treated her as human and expected her to behave like one. But that had been okay, because she had the fabulous Tess. Her aunt didn’t look at Harley and see someone who was half shifter or half human; she just looked at her and saw her niece.

  “You’ve lived in the human world ever since,” continued Gabrielle. “You are half human, half shifter. You’ve spent large portions of your life in both the human world and the shifter world. That puts you in a very unique position. It gives you two different perspectives. What’s your take on things, Harley? Are the extremists justified in their prejudice? Does The Movement take things too far? What species is in the right in this war—humans or shifters?”

  “I’d answer you, I really would . . . but talking to you is about as appealing as sandpapering a wild cat’s ass while having my nipples chewed off by rabid dogs. You are well known for twisting the facts. I’ll bet that if I had a dollar for every truth you printed, I’d be in debt.”

  “You have a way with sarcasm.”

  Harley smiled brightly. “Just a little service I provide. It’s even free. Now as much as I enjoy our conversations, I have somewhere to be.”

  “I’m going to write that article with or without your help, Harley. Give me something.”

  Damn, she was persistent. It was a quality that Harley might have admired under other circumstances. Without breaking stride, Harley glanced at her over her shoulder. “I suppose I could give you one final thought . . . but I’m not sure you have anywhere to put it.” Smiling at the fox’s growl, Harley walked straight to the hotel.

  The moment she was in the privacy of her room, she dropped the halfhearted smile, took a deep breath, and tried to shake off the memories of her past. She wasn’t ashamed to be a shifter and she didn’t resent her inner cat. As a species, shifters were mostly good and they took care of their own. Harley’s pride mates, however, had somewhat different priorities. Even to this day they squatted on land they didn’t own, caused brawls and bar fights for fun, and spent most of their time either drunk or blitzed on drugs.

  Given her pride’s reputation, she understood why Mia’s parents and pack blamed Harley for their daughter’s addiction—especially since Harley had looked the part of a “bad influence.” Back then, she’d hidden behind a goth “I don’t give a shit” look so that no one would see just how unhappy and angry she was with . . . well, everything.

  What Mia’s parents should have noticed was that their daughter had wandered down a path of self-destruction. Once, when Mia was totally shit-faced, she’d told Harley all about how her best friend, Torrie, had drowned while they were at a lake; both girls had been eleven at the time. Mia not only lived with survivor’s guilt and an unrelenting grief at the loss of Torrie but with the knowledge that Jesse would be without his true mate.

  Mia was convinced that Jesse secretly hated her, despite the fact that he claimed he didn’t blame her for not saving Torrie. As a child, Jesse had been playful and roguish. After his true mate’s death, he became hard, militant, and distrustful; he always wore a blank expression that Mia believed masked a deep loathing of her. And nothing Harley said could convince her otherwise—Mia would just claim that Harley was biased because she loved him.

  In honesty, Harley had loved Jesse. As an adult, Harley could see that it had been an immature, juvenile love as opposed to the fierce, ferocious, all-consuming feeling that every shifter felt for their partner. It hadn’t been any less real, though. And that hadn’t stopped her from melting inside when she saw him at Mia’s memorial . . . or from having him in her bed that night.

  Yeah, well, their emotions had been all over the place, and they’d just wanted comfort. Or, at least, that was what she told herself on those few occasions when she wondered if she’d made the right choice by sneaking out the next morning. Those occasions were few and far between, because Harley was a realist.

  He might have spent a night in her bed, but it hadn’t meant anything to him. Not once in her life had she ever kidded herself into believing he was attainable or could ever care for her. He would always long for the mate he’d lost, which was perfectly understandable.

  Even if that night had meant something to Jesse, there could never have been anything between her, a half-human female who had no wish to be in a pride or pack or anything else, and Jesse, a male shifter who was an enforcer and whose family despised her.

  It was a harsh reality, but it was a reality she’d just have to live with.

  Back aching, Jesse Dalton sank into the sofa after a long day of building the outdoor play area. Every single one of the thirteen adult wolves of his pack had helped build it using only natural materials. There was a fort, a tree house, swings, tree stumps, a slide, a sandpit, and log tunnels. And now everyone was relaxing in the main lodge, where the Alphas lived.

  Well, “lodge” wasn’t quite the word, in Jesse’s opinion. The three-story building was more like a rustic mansion—all timber and stone and large glass dove windows. The rest of the Mercury wolves lived in smaller yet similar hunting lodges that were scattered around the vast, wooded land. The place was both wild and peaceful, and it would sing to any wolf’s soul.

  “The kids loved it, didn’t they?” said Shaya, the Alpha female. She had designed the outdoor play area and was rightfully proud of it.

  “They did,” agreed Eli, their Head Enforcer. A dopey-looking Labrador, Bruce, lay at his feet. “Considering we only have two pups in our pack, do you think you might have gone a little overboard?”

  “Hey, if my old pack had a play area like that when I was a pup, I’d have loved it,” said Bracken. The enforcer had grown up in the same pack as Jesse and another enforcer, Zander. Their old pack was nothing like this one. The Mercury Pack was a close-knit bunch that protected their own fiercely.

  Jesse, Bracken, and Zander had been Mercury wolves for over three years now. It was a small pack, but it was by no means weak—particularly since their Alpha, Nick, was powerful and dangerous.

  “Cassidy’s settling in so well,” said Shaya. “Everyone at the shelter warned me that it’s often hard for kids to adjust, but Cassidy already considers this her home.”

  Cassidy was a four-year-old pup the Alphas were fostering, who had been staying in a shelter for lone shifters up until eight weeks ago. A friend, Makenna, worked at the place, having once been a loner herself until she mated with a Phoenix Pack wolf—a pack that was very closely allied to Jesse’s.

  Ally, the Beta female, gave a soft snort. “It’s not like she was reluctant to come with us.”

  That was true. Jesse had accompanied Shaya and Ally when they went to the shelter to donate clothes. Cassidy—who they had never seen before that day—had been waiting for them with her backpack full and announced, “I’m ready to go with you now. Did you bring Willow with you?”

  It turned out that Cassidy, like Ally, was a Seer. She had foreseen being fostered by the pack and was more than ready to come, eager to meet the Alpha pair’s three-year-old pup.

  “Makenna was surprised that Nick was open to fostering,” said Roni, a female enforcer who was also the sister of both Nick and Eli. Roni was mated to a Phoenix Pack enforcer, Marcus. The pair acted as enforcers for both packs. “In fact, I was too.”

  Jesse had been just as surprised. “He doesn’t exa
ctly welcome outsiders.”

  Shaya snickered. “He doesn’t exactly welcome insiders.” Nick was highly antisocial, which was tempered by his mate’s warm nature. As Shaya was a very compassionate and positive person, it often came as a surprise to people that she was also handy with knives and a shotgun—that was thanks to the teachings of her human, ex–Navy SEAL father.

  Knowing there was a small chance that Nick would accept an outsider, Shaya had simply taken the child home. Cassidy had happily skipped into the main lodge and chatted to a confused Nick like she’d known him for years. The Alpha male had just sort of stared at her, totally bemused.

  “I’m glad Nick was okay with it,” began Ally, “because I wouldn’t have had the heart to take her back to the shelter.”

  Derren, the Beta male, leaned into Ally and nuzzled her neck. “And you like the idea of being around and tutoring another Seer.”

  Ally smiled at him. “Of course. She’s a good student. Bright. Tries hard. She just needs help vocalizing what she’s foreseen. It’s hard for a child’s mind to translate an adult situation. I only had someone to guide me for a little while.”

  “But she’ll have you,” said Derren. “And you can also help her learn how to cope with the sensory overload.”

  Being a Seer didn’t just entail visions. They were also highly empathetic, which could no doubt be overwhelming. Picking up emotions caused physical sensations for them; if an emotion was positive, the sensations would be pleasant. But if the emotion was negative, the sensations could be anything from uncomfortable to painful.

  “Where are your mom and sister?” Ally asked Bracken.

  “Sightseeing,” he replied. Bracken’s mother and younger sister had come to visit for three weeks. In Jesse’s opinion, it wasn’t so much a visit as an attempt to lure Bracken back to their old pack in Arizona. The guy’s mother, a person who disliked the majority of the population, adored her son and preferred to have him close. Bracken turned to Ally and Jesse. “Can I just say I’m sorry about my sister?”

  The Seer lightly patted his back. “No need to apologize.”