Sadie Hart

by Cry Sanctuary

  “You have two packs poring through countless files, past cases, anything and everything, looking for this man. It’s pretty obvious by now that he has no priors.”

  How, Caine didn’t even begin to understand. This guy was practiced, thorough. He had to have a record, had to have slipped up at least once. But without a fingerprint they were all working overtime with nothing more than a sketch.

  Ollie jerked her chin up a notch, defiant. Caine wanted desperately to kiss the look of desperation off her face. “I could still help.”

  No, she couldn’t. His thumb swept over her lips, an order for silence. “You have that tech whiz genius and her crew slaving over the partial license plate, although at the moment no one is quite sure if Raj remembered the plate right. But still, if anyone could get a hit, it’ll be your girl. Right?”

  And since he’d tossed her earlier words back at her, the only thing she could say was, “Right.”

  “So. You’ve got your bases all covered. I vote we take a walk, get a look at the full moon, and then see about toting your pretty little ass off to bed. Because you do need sleep, Ol.”

  He watched the anger flare in her eyes, the stubborn refusal. Christ, but arguing with a mule would have been easier than trying to get through her thick skull sometimes. She knew he was right, but it didn’t change the fact that she had to be feeling helpless. Cornered. And he knew she’d be damned if she wouldn’t dig her heels in and try to get back to work.

  Slipping out from under his arms, Ollie headed for the woods. He let her go, softly shutting the car door before he headed after her, steps slow. Patient. He’d catch her because she wouldn’t go far. She owned eight acres around this house, but there was only one place she’d go the night before a full moon.

  The place where Claire Rawson had died.

  She just couldn’t stop working. And while he loved her determination, loyalty, every damned thing about her, watching her run herself into the ground was torture. This was how the Hunter was going to win. He’d run her so ragged she didn’t stand a chance, and Ollie couldn’t see past her work and the desire to nail the bad guy to recognize that.

  “What about your pack? Shouldn’t you be babysitting them?”

  “My pack is in the safe and capable hands of my second, in lockdown. They’re divided among three houses and bunked down for the night. You’re the only one I don’t have locked down tight.”

  Ollie shot him a look over her shoulder. “I’m also not a member of your pack.”

  Like hell she wasn’t. Caine moved, closing the distance between the two of them in a lunge. He caught her arm just above the elbow, his grip gentle but firm. Ollie drew up short, and Caine moved to step in front of her. The steel of her eyes was lost in the shadows, but the upward tilt of her jaw had enough steel to slice right through him. She’d argue until she was blue in the face.

  “Caine—”

  “Yeah, you are.” He cut her off, refusing to let her try and wheedle her way out of this. In every way that mattered, she was as much his pack as anyone else. More. Caine stepped closer, erasing the distance between them until he could taste the apple of her shampoo on his breath. “Maybe not up here,” he poked the side of her head. “You think too damn much for that.”

  “Yeah, because I’m a Hound. I already have a pack, and then, when it all comes down to it in the end, I’m also not a wolf.”

  His finger trailed from her forehead, down the edge of her jaw, skimming over her neck until he traced a line down her left breast and held it right above her heart. “But right here,” he leaned in, his breath mixing with hers. The two of them, one. “You’re mine.”

  His lips found hers then, in a kiss that left no room for argument or negotiation. He stormed in, tongue mating with hers, and set siege to her heart. There was no holding back. Fuck, but he wanted her. He dropped her arm, only to find the curve of her hip and hold her close, molding her against his body.

  Ollie didn’t fight. Her hands slid up his chest, found the curl of hair at the back of his neck and stroked softly along the sensitive skin. Her mouth yielded under his, welcoming him inside, and Caine knew it was more than just one damned kiss.

  When he pulled away a small, shuddering gasp slid from her and she closed her eyes. Caine nipped the corner of her lips. “Don’t you dare say I’m wrong. You don’t get to choose how I feel about you.”

  The barest hint of a smile flashed over her lips and he relaxed. Acceptance. It was such a hard thing to get from her, but the moment her mind wrapped around something it stuck. “All right. Whatever you say Mr. Wolf.”

  She curled her hand around the back of his neck and looked up into his face, the light of the moon just catching her eyes and making them shine. “But you have to be mine, too.”

  “I already am.” The words came out hoarse, rough, and he swallowed. Caine bent his forehead to touch hers, and they stood there in the moonlight. Shadows blanketed the field around them, the long grass and weeds turned black with the slightest hint of silver. A coyote called in the distance and she stiffened, then felt him, still calm, in front of her.

  He smiled as she uncoiled in his arms, relaxing. Her fingertips played at the base of his skull, dancing down his neck. An owl hooted from a nearby tree, and she let out a soft sigh, another whisper in the night. “You want to know something else?”

  “That depends.” He waited for her to twist this back to work, her focus every bit as unbending as the steel of her eyes, but instead she leaned up and laid her lips against his, slipping the words right into his mouth. “I think I love you, Caine Morgan.”

  Shit. His heart gave a loud thump at the admission, and he curled his hands around her hips, refusing to let go. He dragged her closer, harder. As if he could pull her inside him. “Think?”

  “Well, you’re awfully bossy. Pushy. Absolutely determined to get your way.”

  A sharp burst of laughter spilled out of him, a gruff sound that startled the night into silence around them. “Have you looked in a mirror?”

  “It’s probably too early to know for sure.” She smiled against his lips, teasing, and Caine nipped over the soft skin, drawing a soft mewl of frustration until he finally kissed her. This time, Ollie didn’t wait for him; she swept inside, controlling the kiss.

  Caine pulled away and skimmed his lips up her jaw, finding her ear. He nipped the tender lobe before whispering, “Well, I know for sure. And if you come inside and go to bed with me, I’ll show you exactly how much I love you.”

  “Who said we had to go inside?” Her hand slipped down his back, only to trace the edge of his jeans. “Aren’t you prepared?”

  “You’re liable to get a stick up your butt.”

  Ollie’s grin widened as she pulled away, her hands finding the hem of her shirt. “Not if I’m on top.”

  The green shirt traveled up the pale curve of her belly, the rounded skin making his mouth water, and Caine let out a soft groan as she pulled it off and let it fall to the ground. “So what about it? You got something in that wallet of yours?”

  Her hands went to her jeans, and he tracked the easy way she flipped open the button, pausing over the zipper as her eyes met his, held. He groaned and reached for her, only to have her lightly step away. Her grin flashed white in the light of the moon. “What’s the magic word?”

  One handed, he reached into his back pocket, plucked out his wallet, and withdrew a condom. “Condom?”

  “Very good, Mr. Wolf.”

  He lunged for her then, drawing a startled laugh from her before they both tumbled into the grass. The rough weeds scraped at his arms, and he rolled to pull her on top. Damn, but one of them was going to end up with a burr somewhere precious. Ollie leaned down and snagged the packet from his hands. “Catch me if you can.”

  Then she was gone, running across the yard, straight towards the house, and Caine let out a muffled growl as he struggled to get his feet under him. By the time he’d scrambled to a stand she was already running and gaining sp
eed. She was going to make him work for it. The predator in him relished the chase. He lunged into a run, bolting across the meadow after her.

  Ollie was fast, and every stride he gained on her was hard won, leaving him panting, straining. At this rate, he wasn’t going to catch her until she was sprawled out on her bed waiting for him, and damned if that thought didn’t make his balls contract. The picture of her spread out, ready and waiting, gave him an extra boost of speed.

  Caine had closed another stride between them when a howl split the air. Not the yipping calls of a coyote, but the low, deep bass of a wolf. Caine jerked to a stop, spinning around. Breathing hard, he turned back in the direction of the field, a shudder inching down his back. It was close. Caine took another step toward the field, his head tilted back to breathe in the night’s scents.

  Grass crunched behind him as Ollie approached, the soft slide of her gun drawing from its holster. Caine scanned the darkness, letting the wolf out just enough to add an edge to his night vision. At the edge of a field the dark shadow of a wolf stalked along the forest line, a moving silhouette in the darkness, vanishing and reappearing under the stroke of a mostly full moon.

  The wolf paused, twisted its head to look at them, and vibrant gold eyes flashed in the darkness, reflected back like a demon’s. Then, the black head lifted back and another bass howl ripped free, spilling into the night air. Caine was running before he could stop himself, slipping easily into his wolf-half, feeling the added edge of strength and speed. He was halfway across the field before the wolf’s howl died and the animal looked his way. Ears perked forward, interested.

  Their eyes met in a silent challenge, the Hunter’s almost mocking as he opened his mouth and let his tongue loll out. With a quick wag of his black tail, he was gone. Caine pelted after him, not about to let the man get away again. The Hunter had been playing with them for too long. Caine dashed through the thick forest undergrowth, hopping over the trunk of a fallen tree as his nose worked overtime, sifting through the scents of the forest to focus on just one. The wolf running ahead of him.

  Ollie barked from behind him, panicked. Distant. Caine flicked an ear in her direction, but he didn’t stop. For once, one of them was close enough to catch this bastard. Muscles surging, he darted through a shrub. A gun cracked in the night and pain lanced through his shoulder as he stumbled. A man laughed in the darkness.

  A branch snapped and Caine spun, his eyes catching the shadow of a man stepping closer, gun raised. Ollie let out another bark, desperate, and the Hunter sighed. “Maybe another time, alpha.”

  He aimed the gun and fired.

  Caine ducked, instinct driving him to the ground even as the bullet sank into the dirt a few feet to his left. He stumbled to his feet, but the man had disappeared. The skin over his shoulder burned from the bullet, but thankfully it wasn’t silver. Not like the ones he’d used on Claire Rawson.

  Ollie broke through the brush and shifted, staggering. Her face was pale in the dim light as she crashed into the ground beside him. “Did you forget? He wouldn’t have come here unarmed. You wouldn’t have faced him as a wolf.”

  Her hands snatched at his muzzle, holding his head still as she slid around to his side. Fingertips grazed the edge of the wound and Caine couldn’t help the started growl of his wolf. “Flesh wound. You’re lucky.”

  Ollie stood, turning, but Caine still saw the shudder slide through her. Her hands shook before she fisted them against her hips. Fear radiated off of her, a smell of sweat, the pounding rhythm of her heart, the hiccup in her breath, the wary flinch to her eyes when she looked back at him. “That was beyond stupid. That’s how they die, Caine.”

  She shoved her hands through her hair and tilted her face back towards the skeletal overhang of the canopy. The leaves had fallen with the oncoming winter, leaving bare branches to trace patterns across the starlit sky. Caine shifted, ignoring the bite of pain in his shoulder as the wound began to heal, and then he was standing behind her. He reached for her, only to have Ollie flinch away.

  “You didn’t think at all, did you? Just reacted.” He opened his mouth to say something and she jerked her head. “You sure as hell didn’t listen to me.”

  “I was trying to...”

  “Save them. Protect me. Play hero. That’s all fine and dandy, Caine, as long as you remember the rules. Remember how he plays.”

  “He didn’t kill me.” He kept his voice calm, low. It was an attempt at soothing, but she was having none of it. Ollie jerked back a step and turned to head for the house.

  “No. And it wasn’t silver, either. You got lucky, not smart. I don’t need another casualty. The Hunter doesn’t need someone else to make it easier on him.” Her hand slashed out into the night, finger pointed at him. “He’s already winning.”

  Ah, hell. Caine watched her go, the sway of her hips vanishing in the dim light and he closed his eyes against her absence. She was right. He hadn’t been thinking. He’d wanted to do what he’d been failing to do all along...catch this son of a bitch. Stop him. Protect them all. Win.

  Except, the only thing he’d managed to do was put himself in danger and, if he were honest with himself, Ollie too. She’d come after him, to try and keep him safe. Though at least she’d kept her brains attached to her head.

  Muttering a curse, Caine headed after her, fully intending to make things right. By the time he reached her house, the kitchen light was on but the back door was locked. He knocked, but although a shadow moved in the kitchen, she didn’t come to let him in.

  “I want to say I’m sorry. Ollie, come on.”

  The shadow stilled, and he could feel her watching him through the blinds, her eyes on him, a physical weight he couldn’t shake. But she didn’t come to let him in. With a sigh, Caine pressed his forehead to the glass. “I was stupid, okay? But you shouldn’t leave me standing out here, I’m liable to get myself killed, because we both know I’m not going home.”

  That got her moving. She swept the blinds aside and unlocked the door, opening it just wide enough to poke her head through. “I’m staying,” he said softly, stepping closer. “Please don’t make me sleep on the deck.”

  “I love you, Caine.” The raw pain in her voice hit him harder than any sledgehammer. He cursed himself when he saw her steel gray eyes swimming with unshed tears. She blinked and twisted her head away, looking back over her kitchen. “I don’t want to have to bury you, too. I don’t want to go to your funeral.”

  Her knuckles had gone white against the handle, the muscle in her jaw bulging as she clamped her teeth together, as if trying to bite back the words. He touched her arm, just a soft stroke of his finger down her bicep.

  “You won’t have to.” The words were out of him before he could take them back, and the moment they hung there in the air, he wanted them back. They were a lie. He couldn’t make that promise. “Shit. Okay, I’m messing this up.”

  “You think?”

  “What I did out there was stupid. Fucking stupid. I get that. I didn’t think, and it could have cost us both more than we’re willing to lose.” He touched her cheek, brushing away the single tear that escaped. His voice grew lower, hoarse. “I don’t want to die, Ol. That was not my goal.”

  “You could have. He doesn’t miss unless he wants to play.”

  “I know.”

  Caine slid a foot in the door and she moved back, letting him inside. He slipped it shut to ward out the night chill, and crossed the kitchen to her. Carefully he enclosed her in his arms. “Next time I take your lead. You have my word. No more playing hero.”

  His hands skimmed up her back, holding her against him, and Ollie tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder. She inhaled on a soft, half-caught sob. “I begged her not to run that night. Don’t you get it?” Her head tilted back so she could look at him, strength and vulnerability shining out of her gaze as she stared him down. She might be the strongest woman he’d ever met, but there was something about the rounded softness to her face, the pout
of her lips, that made him want to keep her safe.

  But that was an illusion. She didn’t need a protector. An alpha. She needed a partner. He’d been an idiot all along.

  “I trust you,” he whispered, letting her see him grimace. “And I know you’re right, Ollie.”

  “You’re just used to being the big, bad wolf and keeping everyone safe, but I—”

  “You don’t need it.” He slid a hand under her jaw and tilted her head back to steal a kiss, soft, ghosting over her lips. That was all the kiss was supposed to be. Just a light, tentative brush of lips. Meant to reassure.

  But when Ollie’s teeth skimmed over his bottom lip, followed by her soft, firm, “No,” something more intense ignited between them. A flare that sparked into a wildfire, blazing hot as her hands skimmed up his neck and pulled his mouth down harder against hers. A growl slid free. From him, from her. Ollie shifted closer, bumping his hip into the counter, and Caine bit back a snarl as he slid his arms around her hips and hefted her up.

  “Christ, Ollie.”

  “Shut up.” She kissed him, a smile on her lips. “I forgive you, you big oaf. Idiot. Stupid, deranged—”

  He deepened the kiss just to shut her up, and felt the laughter that bubbled up through her chest, the happy giggle that spilled out between their kisses. Damn clever woman. Caine pressed her hips against his and skimmed a nip over her jaw, teasing. “Wrap your legs around me, sweetheart. You’re catching a ride to the bedroom.”

  “Last door on the left,” she murmured as she complied, her legs wrapping around his hips, even as her lips found the hollow of his throat. Her tongue darted out, and Caine shivered at the moist touch.

  “I might drop you if you do that again.” Teasing, knowing damn well she’d do it. Sure enough, her tongue swept over his pulse and he let her go, watching as she gave a startled squeak and bounced on the bed. “Right room?”

  It smelled like her, the apple scent of her shampoo, and he leaned in close to breathe her in. He shoved her down against the bed. “So, am I forgiven?”