“Whoa, Nick,” Greg cheered. “Score.”
Nick cuffed him on the back of the head.
“What?” Greg rubbed his skull. “I’ve never seen you so defensive over a chick before.”
“She’s a woman,” Kendra corrected. “Not a chicken.”
Greg ignored her and downed his lemonade.
“But seriously, you just broke up with Genevieve.”
“Good riddance.” Nick saluted.
Steph came by with Nick’s food, took Greg’s plate, and left Greg with a slice of cherry pie, all in one flail swoop. Greg stared after her swaying hips for about three seconds before the pie stole his attention.
“I think you should take your time,” Kendra said. “All things considered.”
He appreciated her concern, but he wasn’t quite the bleeding heart she thought he was. Nick took his cue from Greg and purposefully took a mouthful so he couldn’t respond to her right away.
Just because Genevieve Aubrey Stewart had been sleeping with his partner behind his back didn’t mean he wasn’t over it. Just because his partner had been sleeping with Genevieve Aubrey Stewart behind his back didn’t mean he wasn’t over it. He was over it. He’d request a new partner the moment he got back to the city. But he was over it.
The bite mark on his shoulder flared and he rubbed it.
“You do seem better,” Kendra said. “Your shoulder hurt?”
“Comes and goes.”
“I always said squirrels were trouble,” Greg supplied.
“You have never said that.” Kendra took a sip of her coffee.
“I do now. Guess Danielle has her work cut out for her. She might need your help.” Greg grinned. “Too bad you can’t get rid of Stalin there.”
Lothar. “You noticed?”
Greg shrugged. “Kendra’s right, Danielle looked confused when she left.”
This was serious; Greg noticing something other than how hot Danielle was.
“She seemed torn,” Kendra said.
Lothar and Danielle both exhibited the same odd behaviors. And she’d left obediently with the man like she’d follow him anywhere.
Nick felt his blood pressure rising. It wasn’t like him to get into a physical confrontation over a woman.
“Might want to breathe,” Kendra said. “You’re turning purple.”
Greg smacked him on the back and Nick shoved him away. “I’m fine.”
“You were turning colors. You’re not having a heart attack, are you?”
“He’s too young for a heart attack,” Kendra said.
“I don’t know. Jeff Kessler had one and he’s forty.”
Nick glared at Greg.
“What?” He blinked.
“Nick’s only twenty-nine,” Kendra said.
“You guys are old.” Greg chased a cherry around his plate.
“It was easier to be alone in New York,” Nick said. “Surrounded by people.”
“I think that’s our cue.” Kendra stood. She snagged her brother by the sleeve and pulled him along after her. “Why don’t you help Steph wipe down tables?”
“Why?”
“Get to work, kid. You owe me for dinner.”
“Kendra,” Nick called.
She turned. “What?”
“Why don’t you let us take care of things tonight? Go see your mom or something.”
“What, and have you burn down my diner?” She looked at the ceiling. “Where would you live?”
He ignored the jibe. “Steph’s here to oversee.”
“You just won’t let this go, will you?”
“Nope. Might as well humor me.”
“Fine. Just for tonight.” Kendra spun and walked away, untying her apron.
Kendra had always been stubborn. Something they had in common. Nick thought about the messages on his phone, still upstairs. Maybe the NYPD would give him more time. He frowned at his half-eaten plate of food, torn between family and work.
He could look into the sheriff’s position. He knew practically the whole town and could be voted in easily enough. But what was there for him in a small town? How many traffic tickets could he write before he went bonkers?
Unless he had an intriguing mystery like Danielle to unravel. Day after day. Night after night. Assuming he could convince her to stick around long enough for that.
Turning back to the present, he plunged his fork into a dumpling and considered the monumental task ahead of him. Running Kendra’s diner.
Good thing Steph knew what she was doing.
* * *
Lothar shut off the engine. He hadn’t said a word to Danielle the entire drive to the cabin. She couldn’t take the silence between them.
“I fell asleep, that’s all.” She tightened her fingers around the edge of her seat.
“You do not have to explain yourself to me,” he told her softly in Lithuanian. “I should not have taken you away from him.” He opened the van door and got out.
She watched him for a moment in bewilderment, feeling like she’d let him down. God, this had to be so hard on him. She’d told him she hadn’t wanted anything to do with Nick, and then spent the day with him anyway.
Danielle got out of the van and started toward the cabin, expecting him to follow. “You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “You had every right to check up on me. We’ll move on soon, and Nick will go back to New York. Everything will be fine.”
She heard the hood on the van creak open and tuned to see him behind it.
Unbelievable.
She was trying to clear things up between them, and he was ignoring her. Had he, or had he not, challenged Nick for her ten minutes ago? She blinked, her eyes burning.
Lothar had taught her what it meant to be a werewolf. He was just arrogant enough to be sexy, and she’d been dependent on him for her physical and legal protection for years. Maybe what she felt for him wasn’t love, but respect. She really didn’t know.
Danielle took the stairs onto the porch then turned back and watched him fuss with the engine.
That was it then, she thought. End of conversation. She was having an existential meltdown, and her alpha needed to change the spark plugs.
She went into the cabin, to her bedroom, and slammed the door. Then she stood there disoriented as she realized her things weren’t in there. Lothar had moved her into the other room because it smelled like Nick. She opened the door, stomped past Lothar—who must have followed her in after all—and went to the other room, slamming that door too.
Danielle fell into bed. Lothar hadn’t changed the sheets or switched the pillows. She smelled both men all around her. She hugged her knees to her chest and closed her eyes. Thankfully, she was tired enough to sleep. After half an hour of tears.
She woke up at dusk, could sense Lothar in the next room. Danielle rolled over and realized her door was open a crack. He must have checked on her.
Standing, she ran her palms over frizzing hair. Soon, she’d have no choice but to take Nick up on his offer of hot water. Her hair could only take so much. She went into the kitchen and saw Lothar sanding a new cupboard door, by hand so he wouldn’t wake her.
He looked at her from over his shoulder, then set aside the sandpaper. “We hunt tonight?”
She cleared her throat and lifted her chin to him. A hunting partner. Yes. After fifteen years, that was all she was to him.
“Of course I will hunt,” she said, willing back the tears swelling her eyes. “It’s all I’m good for.”
His brow creased, brown eyes flicking over her. She knew he was trying to read her through visual and scent cues. Well, he’d be at it for a while, because he didn’t understand her at all.
“Forget it. Just forget it.” She walked past him and threw open the door.
Chapter Seven
During the night, Danielle and Lothar had met up with the local pack. Together, they chased the vampires deep into the forest. Sometime before dawn, they lost them in a labyrinth of caves.
N
ow Danielle stood in a shaft of misty sunlight, whining over the body of a dead moose. It was a female. Most werewolves were selective in their prey. They had too much respect to stand for the slaughter of a species that had struggled so hard to reclaim its territory in recent decades.
Not vampires. Vampires didn’t care about much of anything. She circled the cow, then lifted her head and howled to Lothar, her cry echoing.
A rustling in the leaves behind her caught her attention. She turned to face the sound, and saw a knock-kneed moose calf.
He tried to run, tripping over his legs and falling head first. He struggled to his feet, shaking himself. He was a late-born calf, and now his mother was dead and winter coming.
She shifted immediately into human form. Time to clean up the mess left behind by the vampires. For Lothar, that meant burying the dead moose. She would be feeding and caring for the calf so he could grow to adulthood.
“Easy there, darling. I won’t hurt you.” Danielle reached out her hand, inching closer. “I bet you’re hungry. I have formula in the van. Want some?”
He backed away and sniffed the air. Then he brayed loudly as if hoping Mom would hear.
She looked over her shoulder at what remained of his mother. “She’s not coming back for you.”
There was no convenient way to get the calf to the cabin. Sometimes that was just the way of it. She’d been through this before.
“I’ll have to go on bare feet,” she said, talking to herself, but really crooning to the moose.
She knew Lothar wasn’t far away. Her howl would bring him. “Mr. Black Wolf will be scary,” Danielle warned. “But he won’t hurt you.”
She hooked her arm around his neck, wishing she had some rope. He resisted, shaking his head, but Danielle managed to wrestle him into the shelter of a spruce tree just as Lothar came loping in. The calf brayed an earsplitting protest at her face and she hushed him.
Lothar slunk around the dead moose, picking up the scent of the vampires who’d killed her. Danielle squeezed her arms around the calf’s neck to keep him from bolting.
“I’ve a baby here,” she called.
He lifted his muzzle, ears swiveling forward.
“I need to take him back to the cabin.”
Lothar lowered his head and whined.
“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you soon.”
He snorted once, then began digging a hole. He would drag the dead moose into it, cover the animal, and then hide any signs of a struggle as well as the burial itself. There was no sense in scaring mortals with things they didn’t understand.
She picked her way around tree roots and ducked branches, heading back to the cabin. Her feet were calloused from the times she’d had to walk barefoot.
After what seemed like forever—probably an hour in reality—she was at the tree where she’d left her clothes the night before. It had rained and they were damp. The calf stood with his head hanging in defeat as Danielle shivered into her jeans, sweater, and boots. Just because she couldn’t catch colds like mortals, didn’t mean she liked being wet and chilly.
She emerged from cover finally, nudging the calf alongside her. Catching a whiff of air, Danielle realized she wasn’t alone.
Nick was there. At the cabin.
Unwanted anticipation swept through her. What was he doing here? It had to be for her, right? Danielle ran dirty fingers over her hair. She was coated in fur and smelled like moose. What she wouldn’t give for a warm shower and a comb. Not that it really mattered what she looked like. Nick’s attraction to her was all chemical anyway. She could look like a mountain man, beard and all, and he would still have feelings.
Rounding the back corner of the cabin she spotted Nick leaning against a red pickup, arms crossed over his chest and one booted foot propped on the tire. His gray button up shirt was clinging to his arms and chest, practically forcing her eyes to hover.
Nick smiled when he saw her, then laughed and pushed away from the fender. “You have an admirer.”
“Yeah.” The calf stopped next to her, braying as if in anticipation of his promised meal. “He lost his mom to a predator last night. I have to mix him a bottle.”
“Am I allowed to help?” Dark brows lifted. “Or is this a job for the expert?”
“You can help if you want,” she said, playing it cool. Inside, she was buzzing with energy. Danielle brushed her damp arm across her forehead, feeling every moose hair that coated her skin. She went to the van, the calf following.
“You’re the Pied Piper today,” Nick said.
“And I’m not even playing any music.” Danielle pulled open a metal drawer and took out a canister of formula. “You can help by holding this.” She handed it to Nick, then pulled out a half gallon jug and a large rubber nipple. She popped the lid off the canister and scooped powder into the jug.
“What made you decide to do this for a living?” Nick asked.
Danielle opened a gallon of water and poured some into the jug. She’d been asked that before, and had a rehearsed answer.
“I believe we all have a vested interest in wildlife. I want to preserve it for future generations.”
It was true. It just wasn’t the whole truth. She needed to hunt. So would future generations of werewolves.
She worked the rubber nipple over the top of the bottle and shook it. The moose calf sniffed the air, floppy brown ears twitching.
“Nice Miss America answer,” Nick said, setting aside the canister.
She should have known he wouldn’t buy into her rehearsed lines. Danielle held the bottle for the calf. He struggled with the nipple for a moment, then latched on and drank, almost knocking her over in his enthusiasm. Nick moved behind her and she used him for support.
“This is why I have a hard time with you out in the forest,” Nick said from over her shoulder. “Especially when your partner leaves you on your own.”
“Excuse me?” She turned to glare at him, but the motion brought their faces too close together. Danielle turned away.
“You’re kind of delicate for this work.”
“Your opinion.”
“I’m still not convinced.”
“I handle myself just fine, Shepard.”
“No name calling.” He transferred his hand from her arm to her waist. She knew her pheromones were overpowering his brain. “We napped together. We’re long past that.”
“If you want me to call you Nick, then you have to stop insulting me.” She pushed his hand off her waist.
He laughed and took her arm again. The calf was slowing down, slurping quietly, his dark brown eyes drooping.
“You can make yourself useful by helping me put his pen together,” she said, keeping her voice down so she wouldn’t disturb the sleepy calf.
“Deal.”
The moose finished his meal and let go of the bottle. Nick was still behind her, needlessly, since she was in no danger of being knocked over. The hardness of his chest against her shoulder blades was strangely provocative. Especially for a woman who had spent the majority of her life pretending she had no real use for romantic attachments. Swallowing, Danielle pulled away. Nick let go of her easily enough, but she could sense his gaze on her, following her movements.
“How’s Kendra holding up?” she asked in hopes of distracting him.
“Hard to say. She’s as stubborn as ever. I’m worried she’ll have a breakdown.”
Danielle took the bottle to the outdoor hand pump. Nick cranked while Danielle rinsed.
“It’s never easy, losing someone.” She shook the glass jug out then set it in a patch of sunlight to dry. She looked into the forest and wondered how Lothar was making out and whether or not he’d decided to explore the caves. Their usual routine of hunting all night, sleeping all morning, was all out of whack now.
“I take it you have personal experience,” Nick said, disrupting her thoughts.
It took Danielle a moment to come back to the present. She wiped her hands off on her jeans. “Haven’t
we all, at some time or another?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“And how are you holding up?”
“I want facts.”
“That was your Mr. America answer. The macho male, nothing gets to me answer.”
A slow grin spread over his sculpted face, touching his eyes. “And you’re familiar with that?”
“Maybe.”
“Is that what you think I am? The macho type?”
“You don’t think I can do my job because I’m a woman.”
“No, I just don’t want you getting hurt.”
“Because I’m a woman.”
He shifted closer. She felt like she was dirtying his clean shirt just by standing near him.
“You’re freezing,” he said. Nick looped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. She bunched her fingers into fists against his chest.
“Just damp is all,” she said. “I’m also covered with fur.”
He rubbed her arms. “I should get you back to my place. Why don’t you go grab some dry clothes.”
“The moose?”
Nick turned to look at the calf. “Oh, yeah. I forgot already.”
“Thanks anyway.”
“I saw a cage in the back of the van.”
“He won’t be happy. I have a portable pen. We just have to hammer the stakes into the ground.”
“And then you’ll go with me?”
“I can’t leave the calf. There are predators out there.”
“And I was going to buy you dinner and everything.”
“Don’t you eat for free?”
He brushed a lock of hair off her face. “Yeah, but I have to wash dishes.”
Danielle laughed. She couldn’t help it. He had a way of doing that to her.
“Lothar can watch your little friend here. Where is Stalin, anyway?”
She eyed Nick. “Lothar is my friend.”
“Sure he is.” His tone said, you’re not fooling me. I know he’s more than that.
“Do you really want to be here when he gets back?” she said.
“I think the question is, do you want me to be here when he gets back?”
“Do you want to keep your head attached to your shoulders?”
“He hates me that much?”
Tangled Moon Page 7
