Werewolf in the North Woods

by Vicki Lewis Thompson

  Aidan nodded. “Close enough.”

  “Cool.” She put one on each wrist and pulled her sleeves down to cover them.

  “Oh.” Aidan handed her his BlackBerry. “If you’ll keep this for me, too, I’d appreciate it.”

  “Sure thing.” She tucked it in the pocket of her jacket.

  “I just thought of another complication,” Roarke said. “There’s the not-so-tiny matter of the Sasquatch. I left them in a cave and they’ll stay there until I come to get them.”

  “That’s handled,” Aidan said. “I contacted the Seattle pack and they’re sending a helicopter to the Portland-Hillsboro airport. The pilot will await our instructions.”

  Roarke wondered if he’d ever truly appreciated the strategic skills of his older brother before. “I owe you one, Aidan.”

  “And never doubt I’ll collect. Okay, we need to move out. Abby, if you wouldn’t mind turning your back, I’m going to strip.”

  “Hold it.” Irrational though it was, Roarke rebelled at having Abby in the same room with any naked man other than him. “Go into the bathroom. I’ll shift out here.”

  Aidan shrugged. “If you say so.” He went into the bathroom, but didn’t close the door all the way.

  Roarke took note. Aidan had more experience at shifting in front of humans than he did. Aidan could teach him some things about conducting human-werewolf love affairs. But that would only be necessary if Roarke pursued such an activity.

  Abby stood there watching, obviously waiting to see how he planned to handle this. “Are you going to make me turn my back?” she asked.

  Roarke began taking off his clothes. “Maybe, under the circumstances, I should give you the choice.” Anxiety gripped him at the thought of shifting in front of her, but she deserved to make that decision.

  “Then I choose to watch. I’ve seen you as a man and a wolf. I want to know what happens when you go from man to wolf. And vice-versa, when it comes to that.”

  “All right.” He hesitated in the act of shucking his clothes as he thought of something he needed to say. Soon he wouldn’t be able to talk to her. “I want you to promise me something.”

  “Depends on what it is.”

  Roarke sighed. She was so damned independent, but then, that was one of the things he lo– Nope, wouldn’t use that word. “Here’s the deal. No matter what happens while we’re trying to escape, just worry about yourself.”

  “I can’t promise that.”

  He glared at her. “I mean it Abby. Aidan and I will be fine. Donald’s a survivor and Gentry doesn’t want him, anyway. You’re the target. Get away the minute you—” Roarke paused as the bathroom door swung open.

  His brother came out, and the look in his golden eyes needed no interpretation. Clearly Roarke was holding up the show. Aidan’s dark, silver-tipped fur seemed to glow in the light from the bedside lamps as he moved toward Abby and Roarke.

  Abby’s eyes widened as she stared at Aidan. “Amazing. Truly amazing.”

  Roarke chickened out and headed for the bathroom now that it was available. This wasn’t the time to put on a demonstration for Abby, especially with Aidan there. She might freak out and they didn’t need that. Or more precisely, he didn’t need that. His nerves were stretched thin as it was, because he wasn’t convinced Abby would do everything possible to save herself. Lying on the bathroom floor, he initiated the shift.

  Aidan led the way through the tunnels, pausing every few feet to sniff the air. Abby buried her fingers in Roarke’s thick pelt and held on as they navigated the dark passageway. Touching his warm fur helped ground her and reminded her that this wasn’t a crazy dream.

  She’d wanted to watch Roarke change into his wolf form, but maybe that was best left to a more private moment, assuming they had another one of those. If she had anything to say about it, they would. Two people—or rather, a person and a werewolf—who shared such intense experiences couldn’t just break off the relationship and go on as if they were nothing to each other.

  Roarke might not want to mate with her because of her handicap of being human, but she thought that was a highly prejudiced viewpoint. If she could overlook his shape-shifting, he could overlook her lack of the ability to grow fur at will. She was prepared to tell him exactly that once he was in a form that allowed for proper discussion.

  For now she was grateful for his strong, calming presence in this subterranean maze. The tunnels were cold and damp, but the wolf padding next to her radiated warmth and protection. She figured that he and Aidan were using telepathy to communicate, because Aidan seemed to know where to find Donald’s room.

  Aidan sniffed the floor, too, as if retracing Roarke’s earlier trail. When Aidan stopped and sat, Abby figured they’d reached the right set of stairs.

  She could barely make them out in the darkness, so she used her hands to feel her way up as she had the first time. As she climbed, she rehearsed the big fat lie she was about to tell Donald. She was counting on his fear to make him willing to believe anything that would promise him a way out of this spooky place.

  Rapping softly on the revolving panel, she heard a little yelp of fear from inside the bedroom. She pushed the panel open a couple of inches. “Donald, it’s me. Can I come in?”

  “Abby!” The panel flew open and Donald dragged her into the room. “How’s your leg? I should have asked that before.”

  “Much better. The antibiotics really helped. The bleeding’s stopped and the swelling’s down. I can walk fine.”

  “Good, good.” Donald was fully dressed and every light in the room was on. “Abby, I have a theory about the people living in this place. Gentry and the rest.”

  Her pulse skittered. Now was not the time for Donald to get smart. “You do?”

  “Yeah. You may have figured it out, since Gentry seems to think you know something you’re not supposed to.”

  “Yes, but I really don’t know anything.” Abby groaned inwardly. She hadn’t anticipated Donald stumbling onto the truth.

  “Okay, then I’ll tell you what we’re dealing with, so you’re prepared.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “They’re vampires.”

  “Vampires?” Abby almost laughed, she was so relieved.

  “Keep your voice down. You don’t want them to think we suspect. But it all fits, with Gentry being so secretive and staying up until all hours of the night. I’ll bet the tunnels are filled with coffins.” He looked very proud of himself for coming up with that.

  “I don’t know if you’re right or not,” Abby said, “but I think I can get us out of here, if you want to make a run for it.”

  “God, yes! I don’t want to be their next meal, do you? I mean, snakes are scary, but vampires are worse.”

  “Just so you know, I haven’t encountered a single snake in my travels through the tunnels.”

  “That’s good to know, but I’ll go, anyway.”

  “Okay.” Abby reviewed her story quickly in her head. “I’m not sure if you realize that the Gentrys and my grandfather are neighbors.”

  Donald’s color started returning. “You mean we could escape to your grandfather’s place?”

  “Maybe.

  “Would we be safe there?”

  “Temporarily, at least, until we decide what to do. Anyway, here’s my idea. We use my dogs to help us get out of here.”

  “You have dogs?”

  “Yes. I’ve been keeping them at Grandpa Earl’s until I had a place for them in Phoenix. They dug out of their enclosure and tracked me over here. They got into my room through the tunnels.”

  “Wow. Smart dogs.”

  Abby nodded. “Big dogs. They’re part wolf and they’re very protective. With those two dogs to guard us, I think we can find our way out of here and make a getaway.”

  “On foot? I’m not a very fast runner.”

  She realized this was where the story got really dicey. “I managed to get the keys to a Town Car that’s sitting out in front of the house.”

  Donald
didn’t bat an eye. “Excellent.”

  She relaxed a little. Donald was scared shitless and wouldn’t question anything she told him. “So, let’s go.”

  “Wait. What about Roarke? Is he still here? We can’t leave him. I know he’s a big strong guy, but vampires have superhuman strength. He’d be no match for them if they decided to sink their fangs into his neck.”

  She admired Donald’s loyalty, but wished he hadn’t started thinking again. “Uh…Roarke’s going ahead, to clear the way for us. He told me to take the Town Car, you, and the dogs. He’s meeting up with us later.” She gazed at Donald hopefully. Please don’t question that unlikely scenario.

  Thankfully, Donald nodded. “Just so you two have it all worked out. Roarke’s a good guy, and I would hate to see him drained by a blood-sucker, or worse yet, be turned into one.”

  “We won’t let that happen. Ready to go?”

  Donald straightened his shoulders. “Let’s blow this taco stand, kid.”

  “Follow me. My dogs are waiting at the foot of the stairs. And close the revolving panel after you. We need to be as secretive as possible.” She started down the narrow stairs backwards, so that she could feel for each step with the toe of her hiking boot.

  Donald came after her, his feet slipping on the stone. “Vampires don’t have trouble with these stairs because they can see in the dark.”

  “Guess so.”

  “What are your dogs’ names?”

  Her brain stalled. Of course her cherished pets would have names, and she couldn’t very well call them Roarke and Aidan. Whatever lame choice she made, the Weres at the bottom of the steps would hear and probably hate whatever she picked.

  No point in agonizing over it. “Spot and Rover.”

  Muffled groans came from the two wolves waiting for her.

  “I hear them down there.” Donald edged down the stairs on his hands and knees. “This is like those old Lassie movies, you know? Where the dog saves little Timmy who’s trapped in the well.”

  “Uh-huh.” When she reached the bottom of the steps, the tunnel seemed very dark after being in Donald’s room. That might be a good thing, because she couldn’t see the look Roarke probably was giving her as he stood and shook. She took hold of his ruff. “Hey, Rover, how’re you doing, boy? Ready to lead us out of here?”

  Roarke let out a martyred sigh, and despite the desperate situation they were in, Abby wanted to laugh. She didn’t, because Donald wouldn’t get the joke.

  Donald reached the bottom of the stairs and fumbled around until he made contact with Aidan. I’ve found one of your dogs. Which one is this?”

  “That would be Spot.”

  “He feels pretty big. How much does he weigh?”

  “I, ah, haven’t taken him to the vet recently. Maybe around two-twenty, two-thirty.”

  “They’re really serious dogs, huh?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, I’m holding onto Spot, and he’s very quiet, even when I scratch behind his ears. I don’t think he’s even wagging his tail.”

  Abby doubted that Roarke or Aidan would oblige with some doggie tail wagging. “It’s the wolf part of their breeding. They’re too cool to do that.”

  “I can’t feel a collar or tag, either.”

  “I keep telling Grandpa Earl to put those on, but he knows they don’t like them.”

  “Dogs should wear collars and tags, in case they get lost.”

  “Yes, I know.” Abby tried not to be impatient. Obviously dogs that had found her locked up in Gentry’s house weren’t going to get lost. But since the whole thing was made-up, it wasn’t worth pointing that out to Donald. They were legitimate comments and she had to keep up the dog charade or risk Donald finding out he was in the tunnel with two werewolves. “But since these dogs don’t have collars on, just grab Spot’s ruff and he’ll lead you toward the exit. If he stops to sniff the floor or the air, let him do that.”

  “O-kay. Spot has a really nice coat.” Aidan started off towing Donald with Roarke and Abby following behind.

  She wondered what Aidan and Roarke were saying to each other telepathically. No doubt they were griping about being called Spot and Rover. Maybe they would have preferred Thor and Hercules, but it was too late now.

  Thinking about dog names helped keep her from giving way to panic, because this was damned scary, walking slowly through the dank tunnels. Although she’d only seen movies about night patrols during war, this felt like those moments in the film where soldiers crept along, knowing the enemy was all around them, and at any moment a flash of light would—

  Aidan growled.

  Abby’s knees trembled as Roarke pulled away from her and moved up beside Aidan, shouldering Donald out of the way.

  Donald retreated to stand very close to Abby, and his voice shook. “What is it?”

  “Don’t know.”

  “They sense something they don’t like.”

  “Yeah.”

  She strained to see into the darkness ahead of them. A grinding, squeaking sound made her jump, and then light filtered into the tunnel from some sort of doorway. It was pale, early morning light, and the air that blew in was scented with mint and rain.

  But the door hadn’t opened by itself. Roarke and Aidan stood, shoulder to shoulder, hackles raised, growls rumbling low in their throats. Slowly they advanced, stiff-legged, heads down, ears back.

  Abby followed, but a quick glance to her left told her Donald was still back there. She turned around and motioned him forward.

  “Maybe we should wait,” he said.

  “That’s the way out, Donald. The dogs are going to help us get through it.” She didn’t know how they’d make it, but if Roarke and Aidan were advancing, so was she.

  The escape route beckoned them, but when they were almost there, a shadow moved across the opening. A wolf stood silhouetted against the early morning light.

  Donald pulled back with a moan of fright. “It’s…another…d-dog.”

  Abby didn’t answer. Instead she focused all her attention on Roarke and Aidan. She could almost feel their hindquarters bunch. Snarling, they leapt in unison.

  “Now!” Grabbing Donald’s arm, she hurtled after them.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The first wolf was easy. Of course it was Gentry, grandstanding with that silhouette in the doorway routine. But once Roarke went for his throat, Gentry backed away and let his thugs move in. Two came at Aidan from the side, and Roarke had just enough time to see his brother fend them off before two more leapt at Roarke.

  He might not be able to defeat them all, but he could draw the fight away from the opening. Dodging and weaving, he managed to move the contest to the right side of the stone doorway. Aidan, obviously of the same mind, did the same with his two opponents on the left.

  It was an odd place for a werewolf fight. The formal gardens in the back of the mansion were meticulously groomed, with hedges in geometrical patterns and marble statues dotting the well-tended flowerbeds. The scent of crushed flowers filled the air as Roarke struggled to hold his own and keep the wolves busy so Abby and Donald could escape.

  But that struggle might be for nothing if Abby didn’t get her butt out here. Gentry was making his way back to the door, and soon he’d close it again, sealing her in. Roarke was so busy watching for Abby that one of the wolves got his teeth into Roarke’s thigh and pain shot through his leg.

  Damn it, where was Abby? Then he saw her shove through the opening. She was practically dragging Donald. That little traffic cone was way more trouble than he was worth. Let him go, Abby!

  Just then Gentry leaped at Abby, and Roarke pulled away from his assailants to stop him. But to Roarke’s amazement, Donald threw out an arm and blocked the wolf. Whether it was reflex or courage didn’t matter, because Donald had the element of surprise on his side. Obviously Gentry hadn’t expected any trouble from Donald and he went sprawling backward into a hedge.

  Once again, Roarke had allo
wed himself to be bitten by one of his attackers, this time on his right hind leg. But when he saw Abby and Donald sprint for the front driveway and the waiting Town Car, he turned and threw himself into the fight in earnest. Thank God. She was getting away.

  He, however, was weaker due to his wounds, and a quick check of his brother’s situation wasn’t all that encouraging, either. Aidan was a strong wolf, but so were his attackers, and there were two of them.

  Roarke had even less going for him than Aidan. He’d expended most of his energy running through the forest to get here. He wondered if Gentry would allow his thugs to kill both Wallace heirs. Maybe. Gentry could always claim that the Wallace boys had put the werewolf community at serious risk and thus deserved to die.

  As Roarke tried in vain to throw off his attackers, he noticed that Gentry was up and running to the driveway, too. If Abby had been on foot, Gentry would have caught her, but by now, she should be in the car on her way down the drive. She might have to smash through the gate, but the Town Car was built like a tank.

  But wait, why was Gentry reversing course and running back this way? The roar of a powerful V-8 echoed against stone walls as the Town Car rounded the building right behind the racing wolf. If Gentry hadn’t leaped out of the way, Abby would have run him down.

  And she kept coming, plowing through manicured hedges and knocking statuary right and left. The wolves working Aidan over glanced up as the car bore down on them with a red-headed maniac at the wheel. They ran, and Aidan staggered to his feet.

  The car kept coming, roses and forsythia tangled in the front bumper and multiple scrapes and gashes in the glossy black hood. The rental company wasn’t going to like this. But Roarke loved it.

  As his attackers bounded away, Abby and Donald each leaned over the seat and popped open the back doors. Roarke made for the right side and Aidan leaped for the left. They were both still scrambling for purchase on the leather seats when Abby took off again, the doors swinging wildly.

  “Watch your tails, guys!” she called out. She yanked the steering wheel to the left as they rounded the other end of the house. The car went up on two wheels and the right door slammed shut. She made a hard right around a giant spruce and the left door banged into place.