Chapter 6
Tori clung to Russ’s back as they rode back to her abandoned car. Pines scented the night air as it blew past his face. Her hands fit perfectly around his waist and he wanted her more than anything. He’d been alone for so long, he’d forgotten how good it felt just to be with someone. To talk. Laugh. Share a meal.
There was no way in hell he’d be lucky enough to find that again. He hadn’t been able to protect what he had before. He’d failed to keep the most precious thing in his life safe. He didn’t deserve another chance.
“This the turn off?” he shouted over his shoulder. In the dark, it was hard to tell which road to take.
“Yeah, I think this is it.” Her voice teased at his ear. When he was fifty miles away, would he still be able to hear her voice? Smell her scent? Long for her?
He guided the bike down the dirt road. Once they road deeper into the woods, the darkness surrounded them. Only the single headlight illuminated their way. In the dark, it took longer than he remembered to get to the place, but after about fifteen minutes, his headlight bounced off Tori’s car.
It sat half on and half off the road. The passenger’s door was open, the cabin light on, the dark woods where they’d fled just a few feet away. He pulled up next to it and Tori jumped off.
“I think I can get out of this ditch. It’s not too deep.” She walked around the vehicle as she inspected it.
Russ sniffed the air. “You smell that?” A trace of death hung in the air.
Tori froze, her nostrils flaring, her mouth open to scent the wind. Like a wolf.
“Are your senses heightened?” He narrowed his eyes and stared at her. None of the women in his pack, even those fathered by weres, had wolf senses.
She blushed as if caught with her hand in the cookie jar. “Sort of.” She shrugged. “I do smell something.” She sniffed again. “Like the after taste of a wine, only unpleasant.”
Russ’s chest tightened. “I think he’s been in the car.”
Tori’s gaze shot up to meet his, fear in her eyes. “Oh shit.” She went around to the passenger side and leaned down to look inside. “Fuck.” She slammed her hand on the roof of the car. “My glove box is open.”
He went around and moved her out of the way, and then slid onto the seat. The weak light from the car’s overhead light illuminated the floorboard. He picked up a small white paper. Her insurance card.
“He must have sat in the car, going through your papers. Fuck.”
“You don’t think—” Tori whispered.
“That he knows who you are and where you live? Yeah. That’s just what I think.” He got out and shut the door. Stalking down the road away from her, he ran the options through his head.
He should take her to the police. Let them handle it. Get on his bike and put some mileage between them.
Then he threw those ideas aside. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn’t leave now. That bastard knew who she was, where she lived. And if he’d killed one girl, and maybe others, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill Tori.
“I need to tell the cops. Show them my photos.” Tori bit her lip as she stared at her car as if the killer still sat in it.
Russ turned to face her. “No. You need to get out of town. We need to leave, now.” He strode to her, took her by the arm, and marched her to his bike. “Leave your car, let’s go.”
*
Tori dug in her heels and pulled her arm from his grasp. “What? Are you nuts? Just leave my car?” She should have known he’d go all alpha on her. Typical were.
“Yeah. What do you think the cops are going to do?” He put his fists on his hips and cocked his head at her.
“I don’t know—find him?” Tori shouted. “Arrest him?”
“Right. Just like that. They’ll send the photos out and put everyone on the lookout for him. And send. You. Home.” He stared at her as the truth sank its sharp teeth into her.
Tori’s knees went out from under her, but in a flash, Russ was there to catch her.
She clung to him, to his safety, to his strength. “I can’t go home.”
“Exactly.” He leaned back and brushed her hair from her face with such tenderness, as if she were precious to him. “We need to get out of here. I need to get you someplace safe. Someplace he doesn’t know.”
Tori let a final shiver shake her body, took a deep breath, and pulled away. “Okay.” She looked at her clothes. They’d have to do. She could stop at a Wallyworld and get some clothes later. At least she had her purse. “Where to?”
Russ looked around as if the woods might hear him. “Let’s get on the bike, and then we can decide.” He strode to the bike, swung a leg over, started it up, and held out his hand to her.
“What about my car?” She wanted it, but the thought that the killer had been in it tainted the vehicle. She wavered, unsure of what to do.
“Leave it. The battery is probably dead and you’ll need a tow truck. Let the cops pull it in, if they find it.”
“But—” Damn. This day sucked.
“We don’t have time for this, Tori. We need to put distance between him and you.”
Tori gave her car a last look, and then ran to him, grabbed his hand, and vaulted up behind him. Russ gunned it, slinging red clay behind them as they sped back down the road to the highway. She glanced from side to side at the woods, expecting the killer to jump out at them at any moment.
They made it to the highway and Russ stopped. “Which way?”
She sighed. As much as she wanted to deny it, there was only one place she’d feel safe. “Down the highway. When we hit US 98, head west to McComb.” She leaned into his back, her fingers hooked in his belt loops.
“Hold on, baby,” he caressed her thigh, and she settled on the bike behind him.
* * * *
They pulled into Natchez around ten p.m. Tori clung to Russ, half-asleep. Her adrenaline had run out about fifty miles back. She brushed the hair out of her face as he pulled into a small motel.
“Stay here. I’ll get us a room.” He parked the bike and slid off, leaving her sitting.
“Let me pay,” she said as she reached for her purse slung over her shoulder.
“No. I’ve got cash. We won’t use your cards. That way, no one can track you. He doesn’t know me.”
It made sense, so she nodded, and he disappeared inside the small office. The temperature had dropped and she rubbed her arms. She was chilled, exhausted, and hungry. Damn, why hadn’t she eaten? Now, the thought of that hamburger made her mouth water.
Russ came out, flashed the key card at her. “Around the back.” He got on and drove around the building.
They pulled up outside a two-story building with a flight of metal stairs.
“We’re on the second floor. Two twenty-two.” He parked the bike, helped her off, and then led her up the stairs.
At the door he ran the key through, it lit up, and he pushed it open.
Tori staggered into the room and froze.
A king bed.
She turned to him. “Seriously? One bed?”
He grinned. “Sorry, baby. They were all out of doubles.” He looked like a wolf asked to watch the flock.
“I’ll bet.” At this point, she was too tired to go back to the office, or fight about it. She pulled her purse over her head and made a beeline for the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a bit. I’m hungry. See if you can find something for us to eat.”
He shut the door and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am!” His chuckle followed her into the small bathroom.
Tori closed the door, plopped her purse on the sink and dug through it. Okay, in the morning they’d find that damned Wallyworld and she’d get a change of clothing. She pulled back the shower curtain and started the water running.
More than anything, she wanted to be clean, eat, and go to sleep. After a quick shower and shampoo, she rinsed off, toweled dry and stared at her reflection in the large mirror.
She was clean. But she didn’t have anything
but her old clothes to sleep in.
In the king bed with Russ.
With nothing between them but her resolve.
Tori put on her T-shirt, pulled up her big girl panties, and went out to face her werewolf and her fears.
*
Russ nearly swallowed his tongue when Tori stepped out of the bathroom. Her T-shirt just barely covered her panties and her nipples pointed at him. Unable to help himself, he inhaled and reveled in her scent.
Fuck. What had he been thinking getting a king? Maybe he should haul his stupid ass back to the hotel office and get a room for himself.
She gave him a shy smile and all thoughts of going anywhere vanished.
Replaced by other, more delicious thoughts. Thoughts of his tongue running over her body, his fingers delving into her honey, his cock sinking into her…
“Russ, what about food?” Tori frowned at him.
He shook his head and stood. “I checked with the clerk—only fast food this time of night. I didn’t want to leave without letting you know. Be back in a bit.” He went to the door and turned back to her. “Don’t open the door for anyone, Tori.” He held up the key card. “I’ll let myself in.”
“Okay.” She pulled the covers back on the bed.
“I’m serious. If someone knocks, ignore them.” He gave her an “I’m not joking” stare that looked suspiciously like her brother Jake.
Her hackles rose and she shooed him off with a flick of her hand. “Go. Get food.”
She crawled into the bed and pulled the covers up, looking so tempting he almost ripped his clothes off and jumped in with her.
Russ gathered his strength and left the room. He trotted down the stairs and got on his bike. After checking out the parking lot, driving slow, and looking for anyone sitting in a car or lurking around, he pulled the bike onto the highway and headed to the first fast food place he came to.
* * * *
Marvin crept around the house and ran to the backyard. None of the lights in the woman’s house were on, except at the rear, where he assumed the kitchen would be located. No car in the drive, so maybe she wasn’t home yet. Or maybe her car had to be towed to a repair shop.
At the back door, he knelt, slipped on his surgical gloves, and checked the lock. No deadbolt. This would be easier than he thought. Get inside, find the girl, and kill her. She’d been with a big guy but he wouldn’t be a problem. He’d use the gun on him, like he had that big dog.
Bang. Problem eliminated.
Marvin slipped an old plastic hotel card into the space between door and lock, and then leaned into the door. With a hard shove, the door popped open and he stepped inside, closing it behind him without a sound.
He froze, listening for sounds of movement, but the house stood silent. Moving along the wall, he peeked around the corner and into the small dining room and living room combo. Empty.
Down the hall and to the first bedroom. The door creaked as he opened it and looked inside. The bed was empty. He went to the closet and opened the door to check inside. Just clothing and shoes. Women’s stuff.
Down the hall again and to the next door. A bathroom, neat and clean. He could smell the shampoo and soap she used; one of those light floral fragrances women loved, but he thought it made them smell like whores.
Next door. Another empty bedroom.
Okay, she wasn’t home. No skin off his nose, it’d just take a little longer to find her and kill her. And he would find her.
He sauntered back to the kitchen and looked around, opening drawers and cabinets. A phone hung on the wall, beneath it a telephone book and a small address book. Now he could work with that.
Marvin picked up the address book and sat at the table. He flipped through it, like it was the Sunday paper and he had all day to read it. So far, nothing looked interesting.
Until he got to the M’s. Her name was there, with her cell phone number. And below that, several other McCallan’s were listed. Mom, Jake, and Mill.
He grinned and got out one of his throwaway phones and called her number. Maybe she’d tell him where she hid? Maybe he’d play with her a bit. Like a mouse.
The phone rang, but she didn’t pick up and it rolled to voice mail.
“Hello Victoria. You know who this is, don’t you?” He giggled. “No, you don’t, not really. But I know you. I know all about you.” Then he hung up.
He ripped out the page with the numbers of her family. They had a different area code than here. Marvin retrieved the large phone book, and flipped through it to find the area codes. His gloved finger ran down the list until he found what he was looking for.
Louisiana. The map showed a large area around Natchitoches.
“Did you run home, little bird? Home to Mom and Jake and Mill?” He whistled like a song bird, and then giggled again.
He walked over to the garbage can to throw the address book in it and froze.
Sitting at the top where several gauze pads covered in blood. He leaned closer and stared at a small metallic object. He reached in and picked it up between his fingers, and held it up to the light.
A smashed bullet.
His face scrunched up like it did when he thought, his eyes narrowing to slits. He looked around the kitchen for any signs of a food or water bowl. He didn’t find any, but they could be outside.
A shiver ran through him and his sense of urgency deepened.
He’d only seen a man and a woman get out of the car. No dog. And that dog had been really big, no way could he have missed it in the backseat. No, he’d checked out the car and he hadn’t seen a dog running away with them.
Maybe it was in the woods and she went back for it?
Maybe she took it to the vet?
Maybe he was jumping to conclusions?
Maybe there was no dog.
His stomach dropped and he laid the bullet on the table and pulled out his gun. He flipped open the revolver’s case and picked out a bullet, and then laid it next to the one on the table.
They matched.
After he replaced the bullet in his gun, no need to waste it, hand shaking, he slipped the spent bullet into his pocket.
He’d fired twice, but only one hit its mark. He’d seen the dog go down, heard its cry of pain. But he hadn’t seen it die.
And that was a mistake. His first in a long time.
He’d been frightened off by a fucking dog. And he’d made a mistake—they’d recovered a bullet.
He cursed her and the dog, and kicked one of the chairs across the kitchen. Then he swiped everything off the counters with his hand, smashing a sugar pot and creamer set and a cookie jar on the floor. Marvin stood in the middle of the kitchen, shaking, chest heaving, in white-fisted fury.
Get control, Marvin. You pussy.
He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, and once the anger had subsided, he looked around. This was his game, and he’d finish it on his terms.
Marvin went back to the first bedroom. Her clothes hung in the closet. All her shoes placed in little cubbies. On the wall, framed photographs hung side by side with paintings of the photos.
He frowned, brows furrowed. Something niggled in his brain—an ugly thought.
Marvin walked to the closest pair and leaned in for a better look.
V. McCallan had been signed on both the photograph and the painting.
The ugly thought transformed into an ugly feeling, and he didn’t like feeling ugly. Ugly equaled stupid to Marvin, and he wasn’t stupid. But this wasn’t good.
He went back out into the hall and rushed to the other bedroom, opened the door and turned on the light. Laid out on the bed where a series of photographs of wildlife and landscapes.
Years of training kept him from saying a dirty word out loud, but he said it in his mind, where no one could hear it. Where his father couldn’t hear it and punish him for it.
The answer to why they had run came to him, like God’s word to Paul on the road to Damascus.
She’d taken photos
of him in the woods.
She had evidence of what he’d done.
She knew.
Terror gripped him in its talons and Marvin swallowed, struggling to keep from throwing up. He’d never been so close to disaster than he was at this moment.
He needed to take control again. Somehow.
He spun around, went back to her bedroom, and jerked open the top dresser drawer, searching for what he needed.
Tossing several bras and panties aside, he grabbed what he searched for and giggled. Then he held it to his face and inhaled.
The silk of the whore’s panties teased his lips. He climbed up on her bed and balanced above her pillows and bedspread.
He bit the cloth between his teeth as he unbuckled and unzipped.
Then he used the panties, rubbing them on his heated flesh, standing over her bed, visualizing her throat in his hands. Tighter. Tighter.
Faster. Faster.
Harder. Harder.
He could see her head hitting the wooden headboard, bouncing with each thrust.
Until he whimpered, sobbed, and defiled her safe place, letting her know he would win. He would rise above her, a common whore.
He would prove again that he was special.
Chapter 7
Tori pulled the covers up to her chin. Good Lord, this was going to be hard. Good thing she was nearly asleep. The only thing between her and sleep was the rumbling in her tummy.
She picked up the TV remote, but then put it down. Russ had left the lamp on the small table on, but she knew from the outside no one could know she was inside. The realization that she was alone hit her. She gathered her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, watching the digital clock on the dresser mark the time Russ was gone.
Once again, she was a fawn.
Fifteen minutes went by. This was stupid.
Tori got out of bed and went to her purse. Certainly there had to be something in there she could use to defend herself? But after dumping everything out, the best she could find was her car keys.
Frustrated, she replaced it all and put her purse on the bedside table. Her cell phone sat next to it. She chewed her bottom lip as she decided if she should call.
McCallan's Heart Page 5
