Nadia put her hands on her hips, her breath hurting her. A connection? If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that she’d felt something sliding into place when she and Logan had first gone for that beer. She could talk to him so easily. At least, she’d been able to when nothing was at stake.
Matt Lewis had already gone back on his bargain with Nadia, but the hold he had over her terrified her. She had to make sure Logan stayed alive long enough to complete the deal, or there was no help for her.
“If you go charging in there with nothing but your arrogant attitude, you’ll get the shit kicked out of you,” Nadia said, trying to sound reasonable. “We need a plan.”
“Yeah? Who’s we?”
“I want to get them too, Logan.”
Logan’s mouth turned down, and his eyes went quiet, once again making him look like the L.A. cop who kept himself distant from everyone.
Except now Nadia had kissed his mouth, felt his lips respond to hers, tasted his life essence. The magic of him had singed her, tightening her body and making her crave more.
“I can call for backup,” Logan said. “I have a new partner, a Navajo shaman who’s great at misdirection magic. I hate to drag him into this, but he’d be good if I need help.” He turned to the table and lifted his gun and holster. “In the meantime, I’m going to find this resort. You stay here, lock the door, and get some sleep.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m going with you.”
“Like hell you are.”
Nadia put herself in front of him again. “You aren’t my Packmaster, Logan. We aren’t in L.A., and you have no authority over me.”
Logan’s glare held both anger and surprise. Nadia realized, with a jolt, that Logan wasn’t used to being disobeyed. She suspected that every wolf in his pack had fallen all over themselves to do whatever he said. The perps in L.A. certainly never gave him any trouble.
“Can I point out that it’s common sense?” he growled. “You’re exhausted, and I can look around more easily if I don’t have to worry about you every step of the way.”
Nadia shook her head. “You don’t have to worry about me at all. We’ll be two people going to a mountain lodge. If the only thing the lodge did was hunt demons, I’d think every demon matriarch in the country would know by now, and be up here raising hell—literally. More likely, it’s a secret sideline, or else the hunters are using a van with their logo as a blind. The resort might not even know about it.”
“Or the resort doesn’t exist at all.”
Nadia shrugged. “Another possibility. One way to find out.”
She opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a tattered phone book.
Logan leaned over her shoulder, his breath hot on her neck as she flipped through the yellow pages to hotels and resorts. Not many were listed, and she easily found a small ad for Lodge of the Pines.
“That’s it.” She rested her finger on the logo that had adorned the side of the van. “Oh look, they’ve even printed a helpful map.”
Logan gave her a deprecating glance, then sat next to her to look at the ad. The sagging bed rolled his thigh to hers, and her breath stopped.
Nadia glanced at him to find him looking down at her with glittering eyes, the warmth of him shooting heat all through her body. Nadia’s gaze went to his lips, remembering his kiss, and the spark of his life essence.
Logan looked away and grabbed his cell, frowned at its lack of bars, then tossed it onto the bed and picked up the black land line phone on the nightstand. He punched a number and waited.
“Nez,” he said when a man answered. “Can you do something for me?”
“Sure thing, wolf boy.” A smooth voice come out of the phone plenty loud enough for Nadia to hear. “You got a mountain lion I need to tame for you?”
“No, a suspicious resort. Find out anything you can about a place called Lodge of the Pines in . . . Point Grace, Oregon. Not far from Crater Lake.”
“Got it,” Nez said. “Should I call you back at this number?”
“Try my cell first, then here.”
“Right, partner. Your friend all right?”
“I think so. I found her in time.”
“Good.” Nez sounded relieved, which touched Nadia. “You want backup?”
“Not yet. I’m going up to the resort to check them out.”
“Be careful, my friend.”
Logan glanced at Nadia. “I’ll report in if I find out anything.”
“Me too. Good luck.”
The phone clicked on the other end, and Logan hung up, but not before Nadia heard a second click.
“Someone was listening,” she said, alarmed.
“I know. I heard them breathing.” Logan stood.
He moved to the table and leaned to reach for the things on it. Nadia couldn’t stop herself admiring the view of his jeans-clad backside.
Logan turned around with the .45 in his hands, clicked open the cylinder, checked the bullets, then shoved the gun into his shoulder holster and replaced the witch-spelled blade in his boot. “Nice knife,” she said nervously. “What made you bring it? I thought only silver bullets worked on werewolves.”
The look Logan gave her made her stop. Nadia expected the cold eyes of the Packmaster again, but she saw only sadness, fear, and relief.
“It was for you,” he said. “In case it was all I could do for you.”
Logan turned his back, shutting her out again. He swung on the fleece-lined jacket that he’d let her wear on their ride in, and banged from the room.
Chapter Seven
Logan was very aware of Nadia on the motorcycle behind him, her slim body hard against his back.
The jacket he’d bought her fit her snugly, and the jeans nicely cupped her ass. He longed to turn the bike around and ride straight back to his apartment in L.A., peel the jacket and jeans from her, and kiss every inch of her flesh.
Nadia leaned against his back, her helmet hard on his shoulder as she tried to hide from the wind. It was tempting to make sure she rode behind him the rest of his life.
The map to the Lodge was easy to follow—Logan remembered passing the turnoff to the narrow numbered road. A small sign beyond the intersection proclaimed that Lodge of the Pines was five miles away.
It all looked legit. Logan’s bike hummed under the trees, his headlight picking out the road under the tall trees. The woods were so thick the snow hadn’t gathered on the road yet.
Around a few bends, the road widened a little and ended in a parking area in front of a cluster of buildings. A wooden sign with burned-in, stylized lettering proclaimed LODGE OF THE PINES.
Logan parked the bike next to a line of SUVs. He waited for Nadia to hop off, then swung his leg over the seat and settled the bike on its stand.
“It looks nice,” Nadia said, taking off the helmet and ruffling her hair. “Like a place humans would have a honeymoon, if they were into hiking, or snowshoes and skiing.”
Or cuddling in front of a fire, the words ran through Logan’s thoughts. He imagined lounging on a sofa with Nadia curled up next to him, her head on his shoulder. Her warm curls would tickle his cheek, and he’d have his arms around her waist.
His imagination shifted to them being naked on the sofa under a blanket. Her bare body would be flushed with warmth, her soft bottom rubbing his hip.
Logan banished the picture before his swift physical reaction could embarrass him.
Inside the resort, they found a huge lobby with split-log walls and a fire warming one end of the room. An elk’s head peered down from above the fireplace, and other unlucky deer decorated the walls. Chairs and tables were scattered across the wooden floor. It was about seven or so now, and people had come in from daily activities. They wore sweaters and jeans, and were reading, talking, and drifting into and out of the restaurant.
The clerk looked up as Logan approached the check-in desk in the corner, then he did a double-take. Logan realized he must look like hell, pale and dirt-stained from
his long trip and then the hunt through the woods for Nadia. He put up his hand and felt the beard growth on his face.
Nadia looked better for her shower and clean clothes, but dark shadows of exhaustion marred the delicate skin beneath her eyes. Logan half-expected the clerk to call security and throw them out.
Logan jerked out his badge and ID. “LAPD, paranormal division,” he said, laying the ID down so the clerk could see it clearly. “I need to speak to Dan Martin.”
“Dan?” The clerk looked at Nadia, then Logan, obviously not recognizing Nadia. “I’ll see if he’s free.”
The man disappeared through a door into the back, and Nadia looked around. “On second thought, I don’t like this place.”
“I know. It smells wrong.”
“No werewolves, though.”
Logan shook his head as he scanned the room. Everyone here was human. Ordinary, average, everyday humans. No witches, no demons, no vamps, no werewolves. So why did his hackles rise?
The clerk came back with an apologetic smile and told them Dan would be out in a moment. He turned to a newly arriving customer, banishing Nadia and Logan from his sphere of attention.
Logan moved to the window and looked out at the darkness, feeling Nadia stop beside him. It would be the most natural thing in the world to slide his arm around her.
“Must be a great view at sunrise,” she said. “From in here, that is. Trying to survive being hunted through a beautiful landscape changes your perspective of it.”
Logan imagined her alone, frightened, hurt, running for her life. When he found Matt, he’d punish him, brutally and slowly.
A man in a black suit and navy blue tie approached them. “Can I help you? My clerk said you were with the police?”
His tone and look, though polite, requested they prove it. Logan flashed his ID again, and the man didn’t change expression.
“You Dan Martin?” Logan asked. “Manager?”
“Yes.” He motioned them over to an isolated corner. “Why?”
Logan believed in the direct approach. “Do you know why one of your resort’s vans was used to kidnap my friend and take her out into the woods to be hunted?”
Dan Martin’s face paled. “What?”
“I’m not mistaken,” Nadia said in a hard voice. “It was a Lodge of the Pines van. And they were werewolves. One human.”
“Couldn’t have been. Not werewolves.”
“Why not?” Logan asked.
Dan had trouble meeting Logan’s gaze, but that might not be because he was lying. Logan was ready to take the place apart, and he could feel his wolf’s rage glowing out from him. Not all humans could stare down a wolf.
“Paranormals aren’t allowed here. Humans only.” Dan lifted a brochure from the rack next to them and showed them a tiny symbol at the bottom, a horned head with an X through it. “That means this is a haven from vampires, demons, werewolves and the like.” He gave Logan a disparaging look.
“I wasn’t planning to check in,” Logan said. “I’m looking for someone to arrest for kidnapping, assault, attempted murder, and maybe conspiracy to assist in all these crimes.”
Dan went even more pale. “Well, I can’t help you. All our vans are accounted for, and no werewolves are guests at our lodge.”
“I can check that, you know, with a warrant.”
“Go ahead.” He tried to sound nonchalant. “You won’t find anything.”
“Then you won’t mind if I talk to the drivers?” Logan asked. “If you have a van driver conspiring with paranormals to commit crimes in your pristine community, wouldn’t you like us to find him?”
Dan hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Fine. The garage is in the back. Tell them I said you could speak to them.”
“You’re not coming with us?”
“I’m busy. I guarantee, it wasn’t one of my drivers. Anyone can copy a logo and paint it on a van. The sooner you figure that out and leave, the better.”
Logan felt Nadia looking sideways at him, but he shrugged as though he didn’t care one way or the other what Dan did. He thanked the man, gave him a half smile, put his hand on Nadia’s shoulder, and turned away.
“He sounds sure,” Nadia said as they descended the steps outside. “But it still smells wrong.” She glanced at the stone balustrade of the wide porch, the rising moon throwing the mountains beyond into sharp silhouette. “Guess I won’t be staying here for my honeymoon.”
“You planning on getting married anytime soon?”
She shrugged, her slim shoulders moving under the thick coat. “Who knows? I might meet someone.”
A basic, primal instinct made Logan want to turn around, gather her against him and tell her like hell he’d let her meet “someone” let alone marry the bastard.
They walked around the lodge to the garage. The garage had four bays, all open and lighted, with a van parked inside each one. Men in coveralls were checking the vans, or making repairs. An office lay on the left.
Nadia scanned the identical vans, her expression puzzled. “I can’t be sure, but I don’t think any of these were the one that picked me up. It was smaller. My memory is fuzzy—I was tranquilized, and I’m working on no sleep.”
“Let’s see if you recognize a driver.”
But she didn’t. Logan introduced himself in the office, which was warmed by a space heater, and said he was making a routine inquiry about their vans. He didn’t mention werewolves.
Dan Martin had apparently called them, because the head driver readily showed Logan the log of when each van had been used in the last few days. None had gone to the bus station at the time Nadia had arrived.
When they headed back to motorcycle, Nadia shook her head. “I didn’t see the guy who picked me up.”
Which left them back where they’d started. “All right.” Logan took up his helmet. “We tried this the polite, legitimate way. Now let’s do it the werewolf way.”
“What’s that?” Nadia asked, her one hand on her hip sending Logan’s need soaring. “Glare at everyone until they confess?”
“Very funny.” His heart beat faster as Nadia absently ran one hand over the motorcycle’s handlebars. “Where did you get such an adorable sense of humor?”
“I’ve always had it, Logan. You just haven’t noticed.”
Logan put his hand on her shoulder and turned her to him. “Believe me, I notice everything about you, Nadia.” He tightened his grip as he bent down and gave her a swift, intense kiss.
Chapter Eight
Logan’s mouth on hers was hot and bruising, and Nadia bit back a whimper when he too soon took it away.
Gods, if he kept kissing her like this, she would follow him anywhere and do whatever he told her to. The urge was strong. The need to taste Logan’s incredible life essence again was even stronger.
Logan’s eyes glittered behind half-closed lids as he curled his fingers through her hair. He leaned down and gave her another kiss, lips burning, before he finally released her.
Logan mounted the bike, adjusted his weight to let Nadia climb on behind him, then he started up. The bike throbbing under her punctuated the wanting rocketing through her. She’d never get through this.
Nadia slid her arms around Logan’s waist as he guided the Harley onto the road. It scared Nadia how safe she felt hanging on to him, but feeling his solidness made her yearn to relax all her worries. How wonderful if she could. She’d lay everything bare to him, let him hold her, kiss her, touch her, and everything would be all right.
Logan took them through winding roads back to the campsite near where Nadia had been held captive. The fire the hunters had started had long since been buried, but the motorcycle Logan had put out of commission still lay there, useless.
Logan crouched by the remains of the fire. “They didn’t bother to cover scents. I can track them easily from here.”
Nadia felt a prickle of fear, not for herself, but for Logan. “Why do you want to track them? They’re werewolves, Logan, out to get you.
”
Logan shot her a feral smile. “So, now I’ll hunt the hunters.”
Nadia’s heart beat faster with worry. “And then what? Attack four men on your own? What kind of a plan is that?”
“I’m not going to attack them,” Logan said calmly.
Could have fooled her. Logan’s eyes sparkled with raw intent, the blood thirst pouring off him. He might claim to have gone civilized in Los Angeles, to be an integral part of the paranormal police, but right now Logan the Packmaster was ready to rip the disobedient wolves of his pack apart. By himself.
“So you’ll morph into a naked man and scold them instead?” Nadia demanded.
He shrugged. “I’ll locate them and then decide what to do.”
No, Logan would attack. Nadia knew enough about paranormals to know that an angry werewolf, especially an über-dominant one with a score to settle, wouldn’t let anything like bad odds slow him down.
“This isn’t your fight,” Nadia tried.
“’Fraid it is.”
Nadia stepped in front of him. “You don’t have to take vengeance for me, Logan. I’m not a little wolfie in your pack.”
Logan’s smile died, his eyes going hard. “They have to be stopped.”
“Sure they do. So round up the paranormal police and help them stop it.”
Logan’s stare would have sent a weaker woman scrambling for cover. Nadia lifted her gaze to his and held it.
Logan growled. “Don’t keep telling me this isn’t personal. It’s damn personal. It always will be with you.”
The intensity with which he studied her made Nadia’s body hot. “Just promise me you’ll be careful,” she said in a low voice.
Logan gazed at her a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before he finally turned away. The flicker in his eyes as he did so made her heart pound.
Wolf Hunt Page 5
