Otherworld Nights by Kelley Armstrong Page A

delegation to kill the trio of man-eaters. Then they sent another of their own—Wes Robinson—to take care of the girl. That didn’t mean protecting her. Their interest was in protecting the Pack, and the girl posed an exposure threat. She had to die.
    Wes didn’t carry out his orders. He met the girl, fell in love, and ran away with her. All terribly romantic. Unfortunately, the Pack didn’t see it that way.
    Most Packs forbade long-term relationships. The Australian one, though, operated more like a wolf pack. The Alpha—and only the Alpha—could take a mate. When Reese’s parents ran off together,Wes Robinson wasn’t just disobeying a direct order; he’d unwittingly issued a challenge to the Alpha that could not be ignored. So Reese’s parents had spent the last twenty years hiding in the outback, farming and raising their son.
    He’d been born nine months after his parents met. Also nine months after his mother had been attacked. They hadn’t told him that, of course. He’d figured it out when he’d looked up his mother’s story and seen the date.
    Born nine months after a brutal gang rape. He was pretty sure he knew what that meant. He’d confronted his father about it once. His dad had said, “You’re my son.” That’s all he’d say. Wes Robinson was his father in every way that counted.
    If his parents didn’t care, Reese shouldn’t. In most ways, he didn’t. But he still had his hang-ups, like making absolutely sure sex was consensual. And there were things that would remind him, pull him down into his thoughts and fears. The attack on the dark-haired girl had done that. He’d deal, but this would be a long, sleepless night.
    Reese had a rugby game the next afternoon. The Pack discouraged their young sons from playing organized sports, knowing that when they came into their powers, they could get into trouble, being too strong, too aggressive. But Reese had been homeschooled, so his parents had decided he needed all the social interaction he could get. They’d made the two-hour round-trip into town twice a week so he could try out different sports at the community center. Rugby was the one he’d stuck with.
    When he’d started coming into his strength, his parents had watched closely for any sign that Reese might need to restrict himself to skirmishes with his father. But they’d taught him well. He avoided fights and relied on speed and agility instead.
    Now, of course, his parents weren’t there to watch him. But that afternoon, someone else was: the dark-haired girl.
    He didn’t see her until near the end of the game, glimpsing her behind a group of middle-aged men. She seemed to be sitting alone. Was her boyfriend on the team? He felt a flicker of disappointment.
    It didn’t matter. You couldn’t save a girl from rape then ask her on a date. That was all kinds of wrong.
    After the game, when he saw her standing beside the benches, he waved. It was the polite thing to do. She walked over. Also the polite thing to do.
    “How’re you doing?” he asked.
    “Fine.” She made a face. “Well, not really, but I’m holding up. I just … I didn’t get a chance to say thank-you last night. Not a proper thank-you, anyway. If you hadn’t come along … Well, I’m glad you did.”
    “You’re welcome, but honestly, I think you could have handled it. They were pretty far gone, and you put up a good fight. A damned good fight.”
    She blushed. “Maybe. I wanted to come by and say thanks, though. A friend from the party didn’t know your name but said you played on this team.”
    “It’s Reese.”
    She blinked, confused.
    “My name,” he said. “Reese Wilson.”
    Her cheeks flushed deeper. “Right. Sorry.” She put out her hand. “Daniella DuMaurier.”
    One of Reese’s teammates shouted that they were heading to the pub.
    “Going out for a beer after the game?” Daniella asked.
    He’d planned to. And this would be an easy way to ask her out without really asking her