Winter of the Wolf

by Cherise Sinclair

voice.

  Bree looked around. Zeb leaned on the wal, his arms crossed. His hair was loose, a black curtain over his shoulders. He looked angry, sounded angry, but she knew him now. That tiny crease in his right cheek meant he was trying not to smile. “So how did you work it out?” she asked.

  “Wel—”

  “Wait.” Shay tugged her hair lightly. “This little wolf is earning her answers with kisses. She pays in advance.”

  “But…” Her voice faded to nothing as Zeb’s eyes darkened. He stalked forward, al predator, making her feel like a defenseless rabbit in an open field.

  He was taler than Shay, she realized, when he took her wrists and put them around his neck. His scent was as dark as his deeply tanned face. Studying her with black eyes, he puled her inexorably closer until she was up against his hard body. His voice was a low rumble. “You wil earn your answers.” He took her mouth.

  Firm, demanding, a little rough, yet gentling immediately.

  When her lips relaxed, he took more, wet and deep and urgent, until al the blood in her body slid down to her lower half. As her breasts rubbed on his chest, her nipples tightened as if someone were pinching them.

  Her arms tightened around his neck.

  When he finaly puled back, he had to steady her. Shay gripped her waist to help. Two sets of men’s hands were gripped her waist to help. Two sets of men’s hands were holding her, and somehow she wasn’t afraid. Al she could see was the fire burning in Zeb’s eyes as he looked at her.

  “She paid, so answer her question, a bhràthair,” Shay said, amusement plain in his voice. His huge hands massaged her waist, and she held her breath, wondering if he’d move them elsewhere.

  The gravely sound of Zeb’s voice rubbed over her nerves, like the sandpaper that lights a match. “A helhound was chasing a little girl. Too close. I emptied my pistol to turn it around. Figured I’d die. But that idiot”—he glanced at Shay

  —“shifted to animal form, even though no wolf can win against a helhound. He ripped at it from the rear.”

  “No one realized that our fangs could get between the smaler leg plates. I was just trying to keep Zeb from getting kiled. Actualy getting through the armor was a surprise,” Shay said. His arm slipped around her waist, and he puled her back against his chest. She felt something—he was erect.

  Oh my goodness.

  Zeb ran his knuckles over her cheek, drawing her attention. “Before that, he’d tried to talk me into using diversions and teamwork. But I wasn’t interested.”

  “You’re more stubborn than a moose in rut.”

  “But when the demondung went after Shay, I used one of his fancy ideas. Dove, gutted it, roled out.” Zeb stroked his lips against hers again, as if he couldn’t get enough. “His plan worked.”

  Shay snorted.

  “So we’re partners,” Zeb finished. “I stil feel like kiling him sometimes.”

  “You and what pack?”

  Zeb stroked around her ribs until his knuckles rubbed the lower part of her breasts. Shay’s hands were stil curved around her waist. The feeling was…indescribable.

  With a slight smile, Zeb glanced over her head at his brother and then whispered in her ear, “Ask us more questions, little female.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Early the next week, Bree scowled as she walked the mile to town. Walked. Not much choice since the car made her itch. Shay had laughed and said, “Shifters and metal don’t get along.” Good to know, but darn it.

  Then again, she might as wel walk. She sure didn’t have much else to occupy her time, aside from wolfy lessons.

  She’d stopped her target practice. What was the point?

  Bulets wouldn’t kil helhounds and cost money she didn’t have.

  have.

  Living in the lodge meant she could use the game room, weight room, and TV room, but even those diversions grew old. She was used to working. She liked working.

  Sure, Calum needed a barmaid for a few hours on the weekends, but that wasn’t a career. She lived at the lodge for free, but what about food? Clothes? Even books? I need a job.

  The few days of warmer weather had melted most of the snow and left the air moist and sweet. As she entered town, she saw a few daffodils were trying to open quickly, as if knowing there’d be more snowstorms before the winter ended. She sighed, missing Seattle.

  On the plaza island between traffic lanes, she turned a circle, frowning at each shop in turn, this time with an eye to employment. So few people, such smal stores. Maybe the Victorian bed and breakfast needed a maid?

  Or… Her eyes narrowed. Next door to the B&B was Angie’s Diner. Hmmm.

  When she walked in, she decided the place was exactly what she’d thought a country diner should look like. With a wooden floor, high ceiling, and square tables covered with blue checked tablecloths, it had a friendly atmosphere. The kitchen was through a door on the left, behind a long counter.

  The glass-fronted shelves held baked goods. She studied the pastries. The pies, obviously, came straight out of a box. No cake or cupcakes or cookies. Oookay, here we go.

  cake or cupcakes or cookies. Oookay, here we go.

  A middle-aged woman with faded blonde hair and sharp blue eyes walked out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a white apron over her jeans. “Would you like a piece of pie?” She looked familiar. “Do I know you?” Bree asked.

  “Not exactly. I’m Angie, and ashamed to admit that I’m part of the pack.” The woman’s lips drew tight.

  Bree’s cheeks heated. Had everyone in town seen her naked? Seen her on the ground on hands and knees? Darn it.

  “You’re the one who yeled, ‘ Leave her alone’.” Angie shrugged. “Like I did any good. Those two cahirs were a lot more effective.”

  Thank God for that. “Yeah.” Bree stopped, unsure how to move on.

  “So, want some pie? Coffee?”

  She got a good feeling from the woman. Blunt, good-hearted, self-assured. Bree wiped sweaty palms on her jeans.

  “Coffee if you’l join me. I’d like to discuss an idea with you.” Angie raised her eyebrows. “Wel. Let me get cups.” They settled down at a table close to the counter in case Angie had to get up.

  “Do you run this place yourself and make al the meals?” Bree asked.

  “Pretty much. You looking for a job?”

  “Not exactly.” Bree took a slow breath. “I was a pastry chef in Seattle, but Calum says I have to stay here for a few chef in Seattle, but Calum says I have to stay here for a few months.”

  “Long commute,” Angie commented in a dry voice.

  Bree grinned. “I noticed your pastries aren’t homemade.

  And there isn’t much variety.”

  “I might be insulted, but I think I see where you’re going with this. Go on.”

  “Maybe you’d be wiling to try offering donuts sometimes, or cakes, or fresh pies? I’m a realy good baker.”

  “And I hate baking.” Angie puled a pencil and paper from her apron. “No reason not to give it a try. Let’s throw some figures around.”

  An hour later, Bree stepped out of the diner and took a deep breath. Pine from off the mountains, narcissus from the B&B’s round planters, coffee wafting from the bookstore’s open door. What a lovely world.

  She had her first order. The thril bubbling in her veins mingled with anxiety. She wouldn’t have a steady paycheck coming in. Don’t think about that.

  Where to start? Supplies. Good, her brain was working…

  kind of. Flour, butter, fruit, sugar. Given the quantities Angie had specified, maybe the grocery owner would give her a discount. Any little bit would help.

  She’d pick up some food for meals as wel. The guys sure didn’t know how to stock a kitchen. Until now, she hadn’t cared. Between healing and long runs as a wolf, she’d been cared. Between healing and long runs as a wolf, she’d been too exhausted to cook more than a can of soup, and sometimes fal asleep before finishing it. But she’d adjusted.

 
Last night, she’d wanted to bake, but hey—no decent fixings.

  As she headed toward the grocery store, a gnome peered up from under the curb gril, its stubby fingers waggling impertinently.

  Gnomes were so—“Oomph.” She hit a body and staggered back, realizing she’d almost knocked a woman over. “Sorry.”

  “Wel, if it isn’t our newest member—the baby rabbit who had to be rescued by cahirs.” Blatantly sneering, a tal, dark-haired woman stared down her nose at Bree.

  Wow. Who spat in your coffee? Bree wondered, then frowned. This was the person who’d shoved her at the pack meeting. Bree tried to shake off her animosity. “Helo.” Was there some etiquette for greeting other shifters?

  Silently, the brunette walked in a circle around Bree.

  Hackles rising, Bree turned to keep her face to the woman. “What is your problem?” Bree finaly snapped.

  The woman got right up close, her upper lip rising. “Don’t get bitchy with me, rabbit, or I’l rip you into stew meat.” She shoved Bree.

  Without thinking, Bree returned the favor. Her palm impacted the woman’s sternum and knocked her back a step.

  step.

  Shock, then anger turned the woman’s sultry beauty ugly.

  Great. Way to make friends. “Look, I don’t want to—”

  “Is there a problem here?” That voice.

  Bree spun around. Klaus stood in the door of the grocery.

  When his gloating gaze lingered on the fading bruises on her face and neck, bile rose in her throat. She swalowed hard, then lifted her chin and deliberately stared at his stil swolen nose.

  Rage flashed in his eyes. “What’s up, Thyra?” he asked.

  “Did you see, Klaus?” Thyra waved her hand. “She struck me—she disrespected me.”

  “I saw. You want to cal a meeting?”

  “Oh, get real,” Bree said, dismay edging her voice. “You pushed me, I pushed you back. What are you, a five year old?”

  “Insolent bitch,” the woman hissed. “You’l learn your place. I’l deal with you at the pack hunt.”

  “Can’t,” Klaus said. “Gerhard caled off the run since we just had one.”

  “Then right now. The park’s empty this time of the year.” Thyra pointed toward a half-hidden park running along the slope behind the stores. “I’l round up some pack females.

  Klaus, make sure the rabbit doesn’t run.”

  “Wil do.” The man licked his lips. “It’s always a pleasure when you discipline your females. This one especialy should when you discipline your females. This one especialy should be fun to watch.”

  As Thyra stalked down the street, Bree’s stomach churned like a blender set on high. She started to move away. Get out of town.

  “Go ahead, rabbit,” Klaus said from behind her. “Gerhard hopes you’l screw up and give him a reason to order you out of the lodge. To put you under stricter supervision.” The idea sent a bolt of ice through her. So…what was the worst Thyra could do—yel at her in front of everyone?

  Straightening her shoulders, she crossed the street.

  The little park was cold with mounds of snow under the bare branched trees. The empty swings creaked in the rising wind. Bree shivered, staring at the dul gray clouds over the western foothils. Another storm was coming in.

  Klaus stood under a tree nearby. Zeb had caled him a scat-head—a shit-head. Very appropriate.

  As women trickled into the park, a few greeted Bree with a nod. Most avoided her gaze, and two of the younger ones grinned savagely. When Angie failed to arrive, Bree’s last hope of reprieve died.

  As the women formed a circle, Thyra sauntered into the center. “Are you ready, rude rabbit?”

  Bitterness ran through Bree’s veins. Once again, she’d blundered into an idiotic shifter custom. “I’m sorry, but I have no clue what’s going on. Would someone explain?”

  “The humans must have raised you on stupid pils.” Thyra

  “The humans must have raised you on stupid pils.” Thyra sighed loudly, getting a laugh from the two younger women.

  Anger sparked to life in Bree’s gut.

  “It’s like this, rabbit,” Thyra said. “I’m the alpha female, which means I’m in charge of the pack females, including you. You do what I say, when I say, and you do it respectfuly—or I tear you into pieces. Clear enough for you?”

  Where did they get these leaders— Assholes ‘r’ Us?

  “That’s clear. I’m sorry I didn’t know who you were.” The apology stuck like dry bread in her throat

  “I’l make sure you remember for next time.” Criminy. Resigning herself to a fight, Bree dropped into a defensive stance. From the way the woman moved, she should be easy enough to take down. But a person like this would only get nastier if she lost.

  Thyra’s lips curved coldly. “Trawsfur.”

  “What?”

  “We fight as wolves, stupid. We’re pack.” Thyra was stripping as she spoke, and her cold brown eyes raked over Bree. “Shift or I’l take you on in that form.” Fight a ful-grown wolf as a human? The memory of the helhound’s teeth ripping into her arm made her stomach clench. Blinking back tears of frustrated anger, Bree yanked off her clothes. At least, her fur would protect her some.

  As she shifted into wolf, she felt that wonderful sense of As she shifted into wolf, she felt that wonderful sense of belonging from the earth, but it didn’t last.

  She looked at Thyra. A heavy-boned wolf with dark fur.

  A lot bigger than Bree. As her yelow eyes focused on Bree, her lips lifted to show long fangs.

  Bree felt the fur on her neck and back rise. Nervously, she moved sideways. Her front legs got mixed up, and a chil slid through her. I don’t know how to fight in this form.

  Thyra charged, snapping at her muzzle. Bree tried to dodge, and the wolf smashed into her shoulder. Bree went down hard.

  Scrambling up, Bree tried to defend herself, but the wolf was al over her, biting at her ears, face, and body.

  Bree reared onto her hind legs to grapple, but the other’s size and weight over-balanced her.

  Bree landed on her side. Jaws closed over her throat, the teeth bearing down.

  “Kil her, Thyra,” Klaus yeled, his ugly voice thick with anticipation.

  Bree struggled, paws scrambling futilely. I can’t breathe.

  “What in the Mother’s name is going on here?” Angie’s firm voice.

  The jaws tightened. Darkness edged Bree’s vision.

  “Thyra, you won. You kil her, and the Cosantir wil banish you. Just sayin’.”

  Thyra growled. After a long second, she let go.

  Thyra growled. After a long second, she let go.

  Air. Tongue hanging out, Bree sucked in air. Half conscious, she tried to regain her feet. Tried again. Finaly, she stood, wide-legged and panting.

  Thyra had already shifted and puled on her clothes. She glanced scornfuly at Bree. “Remember your lesson, rabbit.” As she walked out of the park beside Klaus, the other women trailed behind. Only Angie lingered.

  Thyra turned. “Leave, Angie. Now.”

  Angie’s jaw tightened, but she obeyed.

  Tail drooping, head hanging, Bree stood alone.

  After a minute, she shifted to human. An icy wind whipped around her, and she shivered uncontrolably, her insides as cold as her skin. Clumsily, she puled on her clothes, the fabric painfuly scraping bites and bloody spots. A warm trickle ran down her face—her cheek had a long gash. Thyra had been a thorough wolfy, hadn’t she?

  As the first drops of cold rain fel, Bree walked out of the park on unsteady legs. I hate this place.

  * * *

  Shay jogged up the porch steps and entered the lodge.

  Despite the pouring rain, satisfaction curled like a satisfied puppy inside him.

  Sprawled on the big leather couch in the main sitting area, Sprawled on the big leather couch in the main sitting area, Zeb looked up from his current mystery. “You been in a farmer’s chicken-coop?”


  Grinning, Shay dropped into the adjacent chair. “I rented out cabins five through seven for two weeks.”

  “This early in the season?”

  “Some state office in Olympia closed for remodeling, giving their people unexpected time off. A bunch of accountants wanted to get away from the city.”

  “Good for us.” Zeb frowned. “What’s booked?” Shay stared at the ceiling, doing a mental count. “Cabins three and four have two couples here for a long weekend.

  They leave Tuesday. Ten has the old guy. The fly-tier.”

  “Scrawny. Beard to his belt?”

  “That’s him. Like an underfed dwarf.” Shay smiled. “You know, the season hasn’t even begun. We’re going to do okay, a bhràthair.” He rose and yanked Zeb to his feet.

  “Let’s get a beer and celebrate. Where’s Breanne? I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

  “Sounds like someone’s in the kitchen.”

  “Wel, we don’t have brownies. Must be her. Cooking.” Shay’s stomach rumbled with anticipation.

  “Speaking of brownies, you think we could lure some here?”

  The thought was appealing. The smal OtherFolk would keep a kitchen spotless in exchange for cream and sweets.

  keep a kitchen spotless in exchange for cream and sweets.

  Shay shook his head. “They only move in once a family is stable. We’re not.”

  “Oh. Right.” The flash of disappointment on Zeb’s face was quickly covered.

  His brother wanted to stay in Cold Creek. Guilt settled on Shay’s shoulders.

  Zeb stopped in the kitchen doorway and glanced back.

  “Since it’s your fault we don’t get brownies, you should do al the cleanup.”

  His heart lightened. “Don’t even put a paw on that trail.” With a thump, Shay knocked Zeb sideways and stepped in first. The kitchen smeled like rich roasting meat, and Shay’s saliva glands jumped into action. “What are you cooking, a leannan? Are you going to share?”

  “Roast beef.” Breanne was bent over, peering into the oven, and her ass in the tight jeans made a shape like a plump heart. Shay hardened as other appetites wakened. His fingers curled, wanting to grip her hips, to hold her for his thrusts. He forced out a slow breath.