by R. J. Blain
I squeaked. “Put me down!”
“I think not,” he replied, kicking the car door closed. “Don’t you think you have enough cuts and bruises for one day? If I put you down, you’ll trip over your own feet and eat gravel. I can’t allow that to happen, now can I? You really should eat more; you’re far too light. Obviously Princess Cupcake is an unsuitable name. Perhaps a comparison to a beanstalk is more appropriate. No, that’s not right. You’re far too short. Princess Midget of the Rail Kingdom, for you are skinny and should eat a few more cupcakes.”
“I’ll kill you,” I hissed.
My threat made him smile. “I look forward to watching you try.”
The Scent of Guilt
When Richard is invited to hunt Nicolina’s kidnappers with her father, he jumps at the chance. With Desmond lusting for blood and violence, Richard is forced to toe the line between mercy, justice, and revenge.
The Scent of Guilt immediately follows Hunted.
The fires of hell burned in Nicolina Desmond’s eyes as I held her in my arms. My wolf rejoiced in the challenge of her glare, her hoarse threats as she struggled to break free, and the way she promised me a lifetime of misery if I didn’t put her down right that second.
“I’ll kill you,” she hissed at me, pounding at my shoulder with her fist. Compared to mine, her hands were delicate and fragile, but she didn’t let that stop her from trying her best to pummel me. Her blows lacked strength and weakened with each strike, which worried me.
My wolf, however, wasn’t concerned. He was too enthralled with her, basking in the heat of her attention, in her hatred, and her primitive desire to hunt. His enjoyment outweighed my doubt until I grinned at the audacity of the little firecracker of a young woman viewing me as prey. Her gaze met mine without fear, further enticing my wolf.
He wasn’t the only one interested. Few men were willing to look me in the eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time a woman had met my gaze for more than a moment. When Nicolina gave me her attention, she did so with firm resolve and murder in her stare.
“I look forward to watching you try,” I murmured, and the thrill of the hunt shivered through me.
Instead of blood and meat, my wolf hunted a mate, and he liked what he saw in the eyes of Desmond’s daughter. She glared at me and hit my shoulder again, catching me alongside my neck. Instead of pulling back to strike out once more, she relaxed, her head nodding forward to rest against my chest. She mumbled a final curse before she quieted altogether.
It’d been the same in my car; she had scolded me then as well, but as soon as I had gotten on the phone with her father, she’d fallen asleep. My wolf’s protective instincts once again woke, as it did when my pack was threatened.
I drew a deep breath to catch her scent, and the stench of other males clinging to her roused other instincts, the violent ones that made Normals flinch away and fear me while my kind watched me with wary regard.
It took several deep inhales to isolate her scent. Like other Fenerec-born Normals, there was a faint hint of cinnamon to her, which was hidden beneath a lilac perfume and a crisper aroma, like that of falling snow.
Her kidnappers reeked of Fenerec and lust, and I wouldn’t forget them, not until I hunted them down and satisfied my wolf’s growing need for justice or revenge—I wasn’t sure which.
Clenching my teeth, I carried Nicolina to the door, jostling her in order to secure my hold on her. She didn’t stir, though her hand fell from my shoulder to hang limp at her side. Unable to free a hand, I sighed and bent down, ringing the doorbell with my nose.
Wendy Desmond’s eyes glowed yellow in the dark as she opened the door to let me in. Like her daughter, she had a faint bronze cast to her tan and the same dark hair. She met my gaze long enough to acknowledge me before she lowered her head, staring at Nicolina.
“Is she…?” Wendy’s voice trembled, and my wolf’s anger surged.
A growl slipped out of me. I coughed and cleared my throat. “She’s just tired.”
I wasn’t sure where my confidence—where my wolf’s confidence—came from. Nicolina was bruised, she was hurt, but she wasn’t broken. No one so damaged could look me in the eyes. Under the yellowed glow of the overhead lights, the bruises circling her throat unmistakably came from a large hand strangling the life out of her, leaving behind the black marks as evidence of his deeds.
I shivered, breathing in the stench of his lust and aggression on the girl my wolf wanted as our mate.
“Where should I put her?” I asked, careful to keep my tone quiet and as gentle as possible, hiding my wolf’s growing fury.
“Her room’s upstairs. Does she need a doctor?” The worry in Wendy’s voice wasn’t just for her daughter’s sake I decided after considering the way she glanced out the window.
With his daughter threatened, it was a miracle Charles Desmond allowed me anywhere near his mate and his puppies. I drew a deep breath, filled my nose with Nicolina’s scent, and held it until my wolf settled down enough for me to speak without growling. “She’s just tired. Where’s Desmond?”
“Hunting,” Desmond’s mate replied, her tone anxious. She growled with each of her breaths.
Maybe Wendy was submissive, maybe she couldn’t look me in the eye, but her wolf seethed beneath her human skin, and if I didn’t take control of the situation—and of her—I’d be alone in the house with two Normal girls with a wolf thirsty for the hunt.
I wouldn’t be able to protect both of her puppies if she ran wild, not while Nicolina was helpless.
“Wendy,” I chided, forcing a hard edge to my tone. She flinched, ducking her head. “Where is her room?”
A shiver ran through the woman’s thin frame before she headed towards the staircase curving up from their living room to spiral to the third floor. I followed in her wake, careful to silence my growls so I wouldn’t antagonize Desmond’s mate.
She came to a halt at a door at the end of the hall, flinching away from the door. “Again? Damn it, Nicolina!”
I sniffed and my eyes widened at the sting of silver’s scent. It took me a moment to realize the source of Wendy’s dismay.
A silver handle, tarnished from age, blocked entry to the room beyond. A bronze doorknob, a match for the others in the house, was lying on the carpet outside of the door. Mrs. Desmond growled, drew in a deep breath, and howled, “Lisa!”
A door opened on the far end of the hall, and Nicolina’s twin poked her head out. “Mother? Ah, Nicolina!”
The girl’s fear smothered even the stench of silver, and through me, my wolf voiced a growl.
“Open Nicolina’s door. She replaced the knob again,” their mother ordered before letting out a gusty sigh. “That girl!”
I backed up, careful not to lose my hold on Nicolina, giving Lisa plenty of space to reach the door without having to come too close to me. She regarded me with narrowed eyes, though she never looked above my chin. Pale and shivering, she padded down the hall, slapped her hand down on the latch as though afraid it would bite her, and retreated well out of my reach.
Pushing open the door with my foot, I froze as I took in Nicolina Desmond’s room. From her straight-laced business attire to the lurid stories of her dressing in rags, the last thing I had expected was something so feminine—or so pink.
At least she had drawn the line at frilly bows, although the chair in front of her oak desk had curled, silvery ribbons dangling from the back of it. Wendy threw back the duvet. While Nicolina didn’t weigh too much, my back creaked in protest as I settled the girl on the bed. When Wendy went to take off Nicolina’s boots, she howled in pain, pulling her hand back.
The glint of silver in the girl’s boot drew my gaze. My wolf delighted in the sight of the weapon, cleverly hidden in a sheath of leather. “Someone’s learned to travel well prepared,” I complimented, narrowing my eyes as I considered how to get her boot off without ending up with a silver burn to match her mother’s.
“Lisa,” Wendy called out, clutching
her hand to her chest. I didn’t think the burn wasn’t too severe, but her fingertips had turned black from the metal’s influence.
I had no idea where Nicolina had gotten the weapon, but it was old—old enough to make her mother recoil and instantly tarnish her skin. It was definitely old enough to kill most Fenerec if Nicolina decided to use the business end of it on one of us.
Lisa hesitated at the entry. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re going to have to settle your sister and get her boots off. She’s put silver in them,” her mother grumbled, heading for the door. “Stay with her. Lock yourself in until Richard or your father tell you otherwise.”
My wolf approved of Desmond’s mate and her wisdom.
Lisa bobbed her head, although she didn’t come in until I slipped out of Nicolina’s room. I wanted to growl, voicing my wolf’s frustration at leaving behind the young woman who had captured our attention.
We wanted to stay and guard. Wendy couldn’t; any Fenerec worth his keeping could overpower her without her mate nearby to lend her strength. If she ran wild, if she lost control, neither girl would be safe, not without Desmond around to control her.
What could Lisa do to protect Nicolina? Nothing.
I clacked my teeth until Lisa closed the door and I heard the click of it locking. Voicing my discontent, I stalked Desmond’s mate down the stairs. “Where’s Desmond?” I demanded in order to appease my wolf’s growing displeasure.
“Hunting,” she replied, pulling her cell out of her pocket. She drew long, deep breaths until the yellow gleam in her eyes faded to a more innocent chocolate brown. By the time she dialed and put the phone to her ear, I would’ve doubted her status as a Fenerec bitch if it weren’t for the cinnamon undertones of her scent. “He brought her home,” she said when her mate answered.
“Put him on the phone,” Desmond replied, and I heard the command in his voice.
Wendy held the cell out to me. I took it, careful not to touch her black-stained fingers. The last thing I needed was Desmond hearing his mate cry out when I was the only one with her.
He’d probably kill me and leave nothing more than blood splatter in his wake.
“Murphy,” I answered.
“We hunt,” the Fenerec ordered, and I felt the power of his demand shiver through me. My wolf stilled, bristling that anyone would dare order us to do anything.
I clenched my hand into a fist. “Where?”
“Snoqualmie Pass.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Take two. It’s snowing here,” Nicolina’s father replied. “Come to where the highway meets the trails.”
When he hung up on me, I handed the phone back to Desmond’s mate and whispered, “I have to go.”
She nodded, staring at the floor. “Hunt well.”
My wolf wasn’t happy with leaving the Desmond residence. I lost count of the times I had to pull over, resting my forehead against the wheel and taking deep breaths until I could contain my growing need to turn around and stalk after the girl who had the misfortune of catching my wolf’s attention. It didn’t matter that the moon was set and not even half-full; he didn’t want to go, and he fought me.
My personal desire to stoke the fire in Nicolina’s eyes wasn’t helping me win the battle. I wanted to be there when she woke and find out how far she’d go to live up to her threat. I wanted to thwart her, just so I could see the flash in her eyes, her attention focused on me and me alone.
Only the memory of Desmond’s voice, ordering me to hunt with him, gave me the will to put my Porsche into gear and head up into the mountains, far from where I wanted to be, guarding the girl that so interested me and my wolf.
Instead of heading to Snoqualmie as I had been ordered, I headed south before turning east, driving through Lester to the pass where Nicolina had crashed the van. True to Desmond’s warning, it was snowing heavily by the time I found the spot and parked alongside the ruined guardrail. Snow blanketed the wreck below. I slid down the bank, coming to a halt next to the door.
When I poked my head inside, my wolf honed in on the scent of Nicolina’s fear. The sharp, metallic stench of blood accompanied it. I hopped in, flaring my nostrils as I breathed in deeply.
Four Fenerec males had occupied the space, and one of them had been aroused, his need so strong it almost overwhelmed the other scents in the van. I growled, balled my hand into a fist, and slammed it into the van’s siding. The metal and plastic bowed under the force of my blow.
Perhaps the other three puppies I would forgive, as their scents were tainted with their fear and uncertainty, but the one who had found pleasure in Nicolina’s fear wouldn’t escape me or my wolf. Even if I were inclined to allow him to live, I doubted the wild side of me, the one entangled with the whims of the moon, would consider anything other than blood and violence.
Maybe the young human woman wasn’t my mate yet, but I’d destroy the one who had left so many bruises on her. I snarled, and restraining my urge to strike out a second time, I jumped out of the van and climbed back to the road. My Porsche’s engine rumbled complaints over the cold and wet, and I drove far slower than I could have.
If I ran my car off the road, I wouldn’t be able to hunt the Fenerec who had grabbed Desmond’s daughter right out from under his nose.
I was half an hour late meeting Desmond. Like most Fenerec, age passed him by, leaving him as a man in his prime. I always pegged him to look around twenty-eight; there was a harder edge to him that made him look older than I did by a few years. He crossed his arms over his chest as I got out of my car, careful to close the door gently.
Upsetting the other Fenerec, who could likely flatten me if he wanted, wouldn’t let me sink my teeth into my prey. “I apologize for being late,” I said, barely able to force my voice above a whisper.
I focused my attention on the snow falling around Desmond’s legs.
“What delayed you?”
“I took the long way,” I replied, wondering how much I should tell Nicolina’s father about what I had found. Swallowing, I decided it was better to be upfront and honest; if he caught even a hint of a lie from me, I’d end up like the others who crossed his path. “I returned to the van Nicolina had crashed.”
“What did you find?” the Fenerec growled, his voice turning as deep as mine.
“Blood. Fear. There were four of them. Three were… subdued,” I replied, daring to take a step forward. Desmond didn’t move, so I shuffled closer. When I was within his reach, I halted.
He lifted my chin and forced me to look him in his yellowed eyes. “And the other?”
The anger in his voice stirred my wolf’s ire. Heat spread across my cheeks and down my neck as I trembled. “Lust.”
“And my puppy?”
“Sleeping,” I whispered, lowering my gaze to Desmond’s chin. “Safe with her sister at her side. Your mate guards them.”
I didn’t tell him that I had guarded them from his mate; if he couldn’t scent Wendy’s rage on me, I wasn’t going to remind him that his bitch had a volatile side capable of harming their daughters.
Desmond’s fingers slid around to the back of my neck and up through my hair. With light pressure, he pulled me to him. I shivered and kept still, my wolf as tense as I was while we waited. I’d seen the fury in the Fenerec’s eyes, but when he sighed, the rage building in me was snuffed out.
My wolf warbled a complaint, which I voiced as a whine.
“We’ll hunt them soon,” he assured me, his tone calm and lacking any evidence of the anger I knew had to be boiling within him. “I require you to serve, Richard. I will hunt as the wolf. You will hunt as the human. You must speak with them.”
Defying Desmond was foolish, but I couldn’t let it lie, no matter how much the other Alpha cowed my wolf. “The one dies,” I snarled, flexing my hands as I considered whether or not I could break free of Desmond’s hold on me.
“The one who thought he could violate my daughter’s choice of mate dies,�
�� he confirmed, his tone firm. “Those who carry the scent of guilt will learn their lesson well this day. The others rot.”
I relaxed as my wolf rejoiced in Desmond’s edict.
“You are certain they did not touch her against her wishes?” he demanded, his tone sharp.
When I breathed in deeply of Desmond’s scent, all I could sense was his fury, which joined with my wolf’s. It wasn’t a Fenerec’s way, and the idea that one of our kind would even try to force himself on the young woman broke my calm.
Desmond’s grip tightened on me. “Did they touch her?”
“No,” I growled. My wolf wanted to break free and hunt, and my skin crawled with the need to change and embrace our nature, to feel the snow crunch beneath our paws as we stalked the one who had smelled of lust.
“Richard,” Desmond rebuked. “I will be the wolf. You will be the human.”
I bristled at the order, but like trying to climb up an icy hill, I couldn’t find purchase to defy his demand. My wolf howled, and I echoed him in a growl, but the shivering sensation of impending change faded. My wolf writhed beneath my thin, human skin, unable to break free of Desmond’s control.
When Desmond stood firm, the sound I made was a mix of a whine and a warble, and then I sighed my acceptance of defeat.
The hunt belonged to Desmond, no matter how much my wolf and I wanted to carve out justice from the Fenerec’s hides. “They didn’t touch her,” I confirmed when I could speak without growling. “The one wanted to, but he didn’t.”
“Describe his scent,” Desmond ordered.
I shook my head. “I can’t. Too many, too subtle.”
“Will you know him when you smell him?”
There was no way my wolf would allow me to forget, but Desmond didn’t need to know that. I nodded, closed my eyes, and leaned against him.
