“Got lucky?” She shrugged. “I’d started searching the woods, running through them on four legs looking for scents. Anything. A lot of dead ends. I almost didn’t believe it when I stumbled on him.”
“You try it again?”
“We all did. Lennox had the packs out every day the following month, in every forest we could find. He didn’t kill. He went on a nice little sabbatical, and we’ve yet to get lucky a second time now that he’s back.”
Brandt closed the folder, his gaze finding hers, holding steady. She knew what he wanted to ask. Ollie hadn’t talked to him about what happened. She hadn’t really talked to anyone about it. She shook her head. “My luck ran out and he caught me. I tried to tell Rosalie what to do, how to save herself, but she panicked in the end and ran. She ended up dead, I didn’t.”
“It wasn’t your fault.” He whispered those words, and Ollie knew they were true. Logically, she knew it, but way down deep in her soul, she couldn’t bring herself to fully accept it.
Blame didn’t change the facts. Rosalie Myers had died and Ollie had walked away.
She tried to figure out how to answer her brother, to make it sound convincing, when her cell rang, vibrating against the table with a sharp trill. She hopped up to catch it, instantly scanning caller ID. She frowned. Caine Morgan.
The tip of her tongue slid out to wet her lips. “Hello?”
“I have another victim for you. Or future victim. Lydia Marks, age 28, soccer mom. Two kids, divorced.” Anger filled the voice coming through the phone, like a dragon slipping through the lines, full of furor and horrible, dark rage. Brandt shifted on the floor and started to rise, but she held out a hand.
“What happened?” But even as she asked she was blindsided by the knowledge that she’d been sitting on her ass at home while he’d taken another. Another one. How many more had to die before they got lucky enough to catch him?
“I have the pack on daily check-ins. Lydia is always on time; she’s never late for anything.”
“How long has it been? Maybe she forgot or had a car accident.”
Caine snorted at that. “She never made it to her car. According to her scent trail, she left her house, and had barely made it halfway to her car when the Hunter snatched her and dragged her straight towards the street. The trail ends under the scent of burnt rubber.”
Ollie swayed on her feet and Brandt rose, catching her before her knees could give way. “How long,” she started and broke off the question. Taking a deep breath, she tried again. “How long has it been?”
“Two hours.”
She stared at the white board at her feet. He’s never taken two from the same pack or group, she’d told Brandt and now the Hunter had done exactly that. He was tossing out every rule he’d ever played by. Because that was exactly what this was to him now. A game. An extended hunt where he got to play with his prey first. The fresh chill of fear left her shaken, hollow.
But two hours was a small window. The fastest turnaround they’d had yet.
Ollie snatched a marker off the table and knelt. “Her address.”
He relayed the information. Burgundy Street. Half the city away from Sanctuary Falls. “She doesn’t live on site, not all of my wolves do,” he said before she could even ask.
“I’ll keep you in the loop.”
There was that dark, unbelieving snort again. “That would be nice for a change, Holly. But, no, I don’t think you will.”
He hung up, but he didn’t have to say it again. Call me when she’s dead. Ollie hoped like crazy that it wouldn’t come to that. Not again. She couldn’t take much more blood on her hands. On automatic, she dialed Lennox’s number, Brandt watching silently from her side, eyebrows lifted. Questioning.
“He doesn’t like the fact that I can’t tell him everything we know, that he’s not part of the investigation.”
Her brother didn’t say anything, just turned to look at the board, chock full of names. There were so many dead, and in such a short time period. Ollie wondered how many he’d killed before they’d even discovered they had a serial killer in their midst. How many shifter families would never have closure?
“You’re on vacation,” Lennox said when she answered, her voice tired.
Ollie closed her eyes and for the first time wished she’d really been on vacation. It would have been nice. Sipping girly drinks on the beach, wearing a sundress and flats, having nothing better to do with her time than ogle hot men in the water. Most importantly, not having to call her boss and tell her that the Hunter had just taken another victim.
Two weeks to the full moon. It gave them the longest lead time they’d ever had. It also gave him a long time to play with her. “He’s got another one,” she whispered, hating the quiver to the voice, the helplessness that dragged at her, a constant ride that was slowly beginning to wear her down. “Lydia Marks, another wolf from Sanctuary Falls.”
She relayed her conversation with Caine, did her best to ignore the frustrated growl from Lennox, the muttered curses on the other end. “This is early for the Hunter.”
“Maybe he couldn’t pass up the opportunity? Maybe he just wanted more time to play?”
There was a heartbeat of silence on the other end. “Maybe he’s breaking his time frame.”
Ollie didn’t even want to think about that. Without the full moon cycles, there was nothing to keep him from taking victims willy-nilly. As if reading her mind, Brandt turned and offered, “A spree might cause him to slip up. Leave us something we can follow.”
“A spree means a lot of women could die very, very fast.”
“I know.” He held out a hand for the phone, eyes solemn as he met hers. “Let me talk to Lennox.”
She passed over the phone without a word. “Lennox? I think we need to bring the Sanctuary Falls alpha in on the case.”
Ollie blinked, not quite sure she heard him right, but Brandt didn’t back down. He was serious. And right. Her heart thudded in her chest. So damn right. “According to Ol, the Hunter has never taken multiple victims from the same pack before. He stretches things out, makes it harder to trap him. Now, if we’re going to try to second guess a pattern, I’d say any additional victims will be from Sanctuary Falls as well.
“Caine Morgan might be our best shot at getting this guy, but he needs in on the details.”
Details, Ollie thought, that might have saved Lydia Marks. The guilt must have shown on her face, because Brandt shook his head. “No,” he said, “Don’t do that. This is not your fault.”
“But if I’d let him in—”
Her brother cut her off with a jerk of his hand. “No. Enough.”
Ollie turned and walked for the door, whistling for Star as she let herself out into the back yard. The crisp autumn air triggered goosebumps down her arms, and she huddled against the porch rail, breathing in the scent of crushed leaves. Star darted off the deck for the nearest stand of trees, no doubt hunting for squirrels, and Ollie watched her go, wanting nothing more than to shake off the worry and slip into her canine self.
Why the hell not?
It’d probably do her some good. Get some fresh air, stretch out her legs, maybe even get a bit of distance from the case. She was half off the back deck when the sliding glass door opened and Brandt stepped out onto the porch. “You want to call him?”
She froze, one hand on the rail, and looked up at her brother.
The corner of his lips hitched up in a half smile. “We have a lot to talk about, might as well invite him to dinner. I can tell Nan.”
Dinner? With the Sanctuary Falls alpha? Here? Ollie took the phone and watched as her brother stepped inside, heard the merry way Nana laughed when he cornered her in the kitchen. Dinner would be nice, but not like this, not with another victim hanging over their heads. But afterwards, when the Hunter was locked safely behind bars, she realized that she desperately wanted a real dinner with Caine. Wanted to see if there was something behind those nearly-black eyes besides sympathy, if ther
e could be something more between them than a pity hug.
Ollie stared at the phone in her hand, almost hesitant to call. It wouldn’t be a fun dinner tonight, but Caine deserved to know everything. He deserved to have a fighting chance for his pack. He couldn’t keep them safe if he didn’t know the Hunter’s game. Even knowing, it still might not be enough, but it beat going in blind.
Blowing out a shaky breath, she dialed, her eyes on the spot where the first Sanctuary Falls victim had died. The crime scene tape was gone, but the memory still lingered like a fog over the land, a mist even the brightest sun couldn’t shake. Star gave the area a wide berth in her search for squirrels, as if she could sense the evil that had been there. Watching the long grasses sway in the wind—knowing what had happened out there—Ollie felt herself relax with the certainty.
It was, indeed, time Caine knew everything.
***
Cecily Lawrence could cook one hell of a dinner. Caine leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front of him, and patted his very full stomach. He’d eaten enough to sleep for days. Thankfully, they’d had the foresight to follow the night’s more depressing conversation with a bountiful feast that could easily have fed his entire pack. “You sure you don’t want to come live with a bunch of wolves?”
He flashed her a grin, and Holly’s grandmother laughed. “No. I’m good here. But I am glad you enjoyed it.”
She stood, picking up her plate as she whistled for the dog and shuffled over to the large metal bowls sitting at the end of the counter. The collie darted after her, prancing on all fours as though she’d just won the lottery. Then again, if he was ever invited back here for another feast, he’d be drooling and dancing too.
Caine started to rise, reaching for the other plates, but Brandt took over, clearing the table without a word. Caine sank back down into his chair and turned his attention to Holly. Or Ollie as everyone else called her. “How’d you get the nickname?”
“I told you. Nana.” But the blush that crept up her neck and tinged the tip of her ears red told him there was more to the story. Caine leaned forward, bracing his elbows against the large oak table, a wicked smile toying at the edge of his lips.
“And I want details. How?”
Holly smoothed her hands down the tan shirt and his gaze tracked the movement. She was nothing like her wolfhound half. There was muscle to her, but it was buried under a soft roundness that made him want to draw her into a hug again, plaster her tight against his body. Caine shifted slightly in his seat.
Her gaze darted up to his and then away again, blush deepening, and she slid out of her seat. “Why don’t we step outside? Get some fresh air?”
“Lead the way.” Caine slipped out of his chair after her. A quick glance in the direction of the kitchen assured him that Holly’s grandmother and brother were busy laughing and doing dishes. Brandt dried the plate his grandmother had just handed him and glanced up, catching Caine’s gaze. His eyes narrowed for just the briefest second before he turned away.
Not exactly approval, but it wasn’t a “stay away from my sister or else” either. Apparently the wolfhound really did believe in letting Holly stand on her own two feet. Caine grabbed his coat and followed her out the back door, sliding it shut behind him as he turned into the night air. It was chilly enough to make him shiver while he slipped into the leather jacket, turning to see Holly wrapped in a long, fleece coat that hung halfway down her thighs. She tied the belt at her waist and looked up at him.
“You’re not allowed to laugh.”
A grin stole over his face. “I don’t make promises.”
“I could say I’m not telling you, then.”
Caine stepped closer, his gaze skidding from her fierce, blue-gray eyes to her round, red lips. Full. He wanted to taste her. Hell, he’d wanted to taste her since that day in the morgue, when she’d coolly told him no. Maybe even sooner than that. He thought of the metallic glint she’d had in her eyes the first day he’d met her, tough, when she looked so damn soft. Maybe he’d wanted that taste from day one.
“Say it, then,” he whispered. He took another step, the distance between them nothing more than a few inches. If he leaned in, he could steal that kiss. “I could always ask your grandma.”
There was a flicker of a smile on her lips, there and gone, and he knew she was fighting back a laugh. Holly rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Fine. When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a dog.”
He lifted both eyebrows. “Newsflash honey, but you kind of are.”
“Like all the time. When I was six, Nana couldn’t get me to change back for over a month. She finally said if I was going to be a dog, I had to have a dog’s name.”
“So Holly turned to Ollie.”
She nodded. “By the time I shifted back, the name stuck. Everyone was calling me that.”
Caine reached out and caught a curly strand of night-black hair. Holly’s breath caught in her throat, and he smiled, loving how easy she was for him to read now. He twined her hair around his hand, brushing his knuckles against her chin and her eyelids fluttered, the barest hint of a blink. “I like it. It’s cute.”
When she didn’t say anything else, Caine leaned closer, “Are you willing to kiss me yet?”
He hadn’t thought the tips of her ears could get any redder, but they darkened, the blush highlighting her cheeks, and he found himself laughing. A deep, throaty sound that reminded him eerily of a growl, but it was hardly menacing. Caine dropped her hair and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, felt the shiver that danced through her at his touch.
He had every intention of the kiss being light, just a quick taste of her to satisfy his curiosity. But when her lips parted, welcoming him inside Caine found he couldn’t stop. The woman was a walking contradiction. Soft in his arms, but hard, unyielding strength when it came to her job. She melted against his body as he pulled her flat against him, her tight nipples rubbing along his chest, and Caine itched to slide a hand under her shirt, to feel soft skin against his palm.
In one kiss Holly shattered what little restraint he’d thought he had. She kissed him back, her tongue slipped inside his mouth, tasting of the strawberry punch her grandmother had made. Passion sizzled between them, her head tilting back as Caine groaned and deepened the kiss, not wanting to let go and knowing that if he didn’t they’d both end up naked on her back deck. He drew her hips against his, reveling in the erotic cushion of her thighs against his before he finally managed to pull his mouth from hers.
A shiver ran through him with all the force of an electric shock, withdrawal and wanting twining themselves inside him. He brushed a thumb down her neck and watched as Holly’s eyes drifted shut. One more kiss, he told himself, knowing damn well it was a lie. He wouldn’t stop with just one. Caine leaned in, unable to stop himself, when the sliding glass door slid open and Star bounded out, barking happily as she dashed off into the night.
Holly jerked, then stiffened as she glanced towards the door. Caine guiltily turned to look, too, but whoever had let the dog out was already back inside. He waited, staring at the door, for her to pull away. Waiting for her to take that step he wasn’t sure he could take. Instead Holly leaned into him, her lips finding a sensitive spot under his jaw, and the rest of the world, her family, the dog, the Hunter, simply vanished.
This time, he kissed her as he’d meant to. Soft and slow, gentle. It was every bit as intense as the last one, but instead of rushing headlong into the passion, Caine held himself back, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her body pressed against his. His hand on her hip slid up under her shirt, delighting in the soft rolls of skin before he found the swell of her breast. His fingertips lightly brushed her lacy bra, and it ignited his languorous exploration of her mouth, into a heated, desperate stroke of possession. Dominance. Cupping her breast in his hand, he trailed soft touches over the nipple, the tender, vulnerable underside.
Holly gasped and pulled away, one hand on his chest as she struggled to ca
tch her breath. Caine bent his head, finding the crook of her neck and dragging teeth over the sensitive skin. A light nip, and she gave an involuntary shiver. “Caine...”
He grinned against her skin, gently squeezing her nipple.
“Caine,” she repeated, stronger, but her back arched, shoving her breast into his hand at the same time. He kissed the hollow of her throat, lapping at the salty taste of her skin.
“Ollie,” he murmured back, a laugh in his throat as he wedged a leg between her thighs, jeans rubbing against jeans as he nestled closer. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself deep inside her, skin to skin. Instead, he slipped his hand from her bra, pulled her shirt back down and kissed her again, just a light, teasing brush of his lips against hers.
“Maybe you should have said no,” he said softly.
A laugh slid from her, just a soft burst of a sigh, and he found himself leaning in to steal her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling. She tasted so sweet. Of strawberries and a savor of something undeniably her. Sweet and bitter at the same time. Caine let her go again, stepping aside. He kept one hand on the small of her back as he led her down off the porch, into the shadowy, purple-tinged land that was lost between day and dusk.
“When this is done I want a real dinner date,” Ollie said, glancing away at the woodlands beyond.
“It doesn’t have to wait.” He pulled her to a stop, turning her in his arms. “Your life shouldn’t have to be on hold because of one sick bastard.”
But it was. Caine could see it, perfectly clearly. She barely slept, and was losing weight because she hardly ate. He’d seen the white board. She’d had a forced vacation courtesy of her boss, and yet she’d still worked on the case at home. Technically she was still supposed to be on vacation, but she’d spent the whole evening giving him a comprehensive briefing of the case, including details of the deaths they hadn’t released.
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