Clearing his throat, Cam flicked Katy another quick look and then nodded. “Okay, I spent the morning searching the Creek for any hint of McCoy’s scent. Picked up a hint of it, very faint, very old, out near the old Milat house.”
Dean frowned. The house had been abandoned shortly after its last occupant moved out, the Outback doing its best to reclaim the structure and land it sat on.
“Who was last seen at the place?” he asked. “Do you know?”
Cam nodded again. “Grayson. Just over a month ago.”
“Why was he there?”
This time, Cam shook his head. “Don’t know, but I had a chat with a few of his lot a little while ago.”
Dean grunted, a cold sense of approval twisting through him. Cam’s idea of a chat would involve few words.
“And?”
“And if they know anything about McCoy they’re not talking, and you know what Grayson’s pack is like.”
Dean grunted. Merv Sullivan, distant descendant from a European line of wolf shifters and one of the Creek’s longest residents, had been a sniveling lone wolf before Grayson arrived, and Whitlam and O’Brien were almost as pathetic. The three wolves were all at the Creek to escape their less-than-stellar lives in normal society.
It was only when Grayson turned up—a strong shifter with a hunger for power—that the other men found their versions of spines.
Regardless of how much they feared their alpha however, their gutless, submissive personalities would take over when confronted by a dingo on home turf.
A dingo shifter’s connection to the ancient magic of the land made them stronger, especially here in the Outback—Australia’s spiritual heart and soul. It was one of the reasons Grayson and his lot hadn’t attacked Dean and his pack before now.
Before now. Before Katy’s arrival…
He shot Katy another look. She waited at his truck, watching them, expression unreadable.
Was she nervous of Cam? Or waiting for him to gesture her over?
“Merv tried to have a go at me today,” he said, turning back to Cam.
His beta’s eyes widened. “He what? When? Where?”
“A few hours ago. Out by Dead Swaggie billabong.” He waved a settling hand as rage flooded Cam’s eyes. “It’s all good. Believe it or not, Katy saved me.”
“Say that again?”
Dean chuckled. “He came up behind me in wolf form while I was in human form. Katy pitched a rock at him so hard, he bloody well flipped mid-air. Clocked him on the side of the head. It gave me the chance to shift and finish the fight.”
“And you did?”
He flashed Cam a grin. “Let’s just say I’d be surprised if we see Merv surface again for a while. He’ll be cowering somewhere, licking his wounds.”
Cam frowned. “Still, Sullivan wouldn’t attack unless Grayson told him to. You think the Russian bastard’s worried?”
“Yes. And he should be. So, we now know he’s somehow connected to McCoy’s disappearance.”
Cam nodded.
Dean narrowed his eyes. “Guess it’s time he and I had a chat.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Lull him into a false sense of security.” He smiled again. “It’s about bloody time someone put the bastard in his place.”
“Question?”
The hesitancy in Cam’s voice raised Dean’s eyebrows.
“Are you doing this for the Creek? You always said if Grayson became too much of a threat to the town, you’d deal with him. Is that what you’re doing now? Or are you doing it for her?”
Dean looked over his shoulder. Katy smiled at him—shy and playful at the same time.
“She’s my life mate, Cam,” he said, returning her smile.
Cam’s silence drew his attention back to his beta.
“Okay,” Cam said. “I didn’t see that one coming. So you guys have…”
Dean nodded.
“Does she know what you are?”
“She does.”
“Does she know what that means? Does she know for the rest of your lives you’re now bound to each other? Connected? Emotionally and spiritually?”
“She’s human. I don’t know if she is bound to me.”
“But you are to her?”
Dean slapped Cam’s shoulder with a firm hand. “Hell yeah. On every bloody level.”
Before Cam could respond, he turned and walked back to Katy.
She met him halfway, chewing on her bottom lip. “Does he know anything?”
“Quite a lot. He’s actually very smart. Got multiple degrees in engineering and international political sciences.”
She glared at him. “That’s not what I mean.”
He gave her a low chuckle, smoothing his palms up her arms. “Trust me, woman. We’ll find your uncle. And to that end, I need you to head inside. Stay there until we get back. I’ll get Lucy to come around.”
“To make sure I don’t come after you?”
“Bingo. I don’t want you in danger.”
Her eyes widened. “Dean…I want to help. Uncle M raised me. He’s loopy, but I love him. He’s my world.”
The declaration scraped at Dean. Her world. If her uncle was alive, Dean had little doubt Katy would leave with him when he went back to the States.
Mated forever to a woman on the other side of the world. Great.
And you’re my world, he wanted to say. And I will kill before I let any harm come to you.
Instead, he cupped her cheek in his hand and touched his thumb to her bottom lip. “Okay. You can come.”
Relief swept over her face, followed by fierce determination. It was too early in their connection to use the word love, but fuck, he seriously could fall in love with her. Very easily and very quickly. Her passion, her sense of family, her courage…
She’s not a dingo shifter, Singo. She’s not meant for your kind of existence.
He threaded his fingers through hers. “C’mon. Let me introduce you to Cam.”
She caught her bottom lip with her teeth again.
“Remember what I said about dingoes not biting?”
He tugged on her hand, and then turned to Cam.
“Cam, you remember Katy?”
His beta smiled. “I do.”
Katy inched a little closer to Dean. “Were you one of the dingoes that stopped…stopped Grayson from…”
“I was,” Cam said. Dean wanted to hug him for saving her the discomfort of finishing her sentence, just as much as he once more wanted to bring a world of pain down on the Russian wolf.
“Thank you.” Pink tinged Katy’s cheek. “I don’t know how to repay you.”
“Cam likes having his belly scratched,” he said, grinning at Cam and then Katy. “And peanut-butter filled chew toys.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
Cam snorted, his lips twitching. “Watch it, Singo. Maybe my days of being a beta are becoming numbered.”
Dean grinned wider. “You’re too much a nice guy to be an alpha, Cam.”
Cam pulled a contemplative face. “True.”
Sliding his arm around Katy’s waist, Dean tucked her closer into his side. She wasn’t going to like what he was about to do. Not at all. He wanted this moment to feel her body against his. “Let’s get inside. We need to plan. Is Lucy around?”
“She’s at work,” Cam said, falling into pace with them as they headed for Dean’s front door. “Want me to call her?”
Dean nodded. Understanding flickered in Cam’s eyes.
“Reckon she can be here in fifteen,” Cam said, withdrawing his phone from his back pocket.
They entered Dean’s home, Cam talking to his wife, Katy holding Dean’s hand. Christ, it felt so perfect there. So wonderful.
Halfway through the living room, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and tugged her back to his body. “Go have a shower, woman,” he growled low, nudging her forehead with his. “Wash off the billabong water and the Outback dirt and grit.”
She looked u
p at him. “Will you join me?”
His body tightened at the thought of sharing a shower with her. “Fucking oath,” he said. “Give me a minute to bring Cam up to speed and I’ll be there.”
“Okay.”
He watched her walk through the living room toward his bedroom. Like her palm against his, it felt so right her being in his house, like she belonged there. Was at home there…
He ground his teeth. How could she be at home here in the Creek? A human? It wasn’t possible. Or even permitted.
Fuck.
“Okay,” Cam said behind him, voice low. “She’s on her way.”
He turned and nodded.
Cam’s forehead creased as he gave Dean an unconvinced frown. “She’s going to be pissed at you. Trust me, an angry life mate isn’t something you want so early in the relationship.”
Dean chuckled, even as a crushing weight wrapped around his chest. “I like your use of the word relationship, Cam, misguided as it is. You know there’s no chance of a relationship. Now, keep her distracted until Lucy arrives. Then come find me.”
Cam’s brow furrowed deeper. “Where are you starting?”
Dean grinned. “How do you say with the head dick in Russian?”
“You think that’s smart?”
“Hell no. But when do I ever do anything smart?”
Cam rolled his eyes.
Holding out his hand, Dean wriggled his fingers. “Give me your shirt.”
Without question, Cam removed the checked shirt he wore over a white T-shirt and handed it to Dean. “Too far to walk into the bedroom to get one of your own?”
Dean pulled it over his own head. “If I go in there, if I smell her, if I see her…I’m fucked. I won’t leave. And I have to go. If Grayson’s worried about her being here, he’ll destroy anything that points to him being involved with McCoy’s disappearance, and my gut tells me that includes Martin McCoy.” He swallowed. “If he’s still alive.”
Cam’s jaw bunched.
“Don’t let her leave,” Dean instructed.
“I won’t.”
Dean strode through the living room for the back door. God knows what Cam was going to say to keep Katy in the house, but he trusted his beta. Cam would make sure Katy stayed put. Where she would end up after they’d dealt with Grayson was another thing.
It took over thirty minutes to drive the distance to Grayson’s place, a sprawling, ostentatious construction on the other side of the Creek that was completely out of place in the Outback. A high, razor-wire topped security fence surrounded the two-story behemoth. Behind the main house was a large shed, its rolling doors padlocked shut.
Dean didn’t stop. He drove past the property, and headed back into the Creek and parked outside the Longyard.
Ipo looked up at him as he entered the quiet pub, expression unreadable. “You responsible for Merv Sullivan’s current condition, Dean?”
“Depends on what his current condition is, mate,” he answered, crossing the empty floor toward one of the back tables.
Ipo grunted, and went back to the paperwork strewn over the counter before him. Topic over.
“Rat.” Dean dropped into the chair opposite the Creek’s resident skin walker. “Got a job for you. When was the last time you drove a car?”
* * * *
Something told Katy Dean wasn’t joining her in the shower long before the water ran cold.
Turning off the faucet, she pulled a towel from the rack and wrapped it around her chest. “Dean?” she called.
No answer.
A lump filled her throat. Her stomach knotted.
Hurrying from the bathroom, she crossed Dean’s bedroom, the carpet soft under her bare feet. The sound of someone moving about in the kitchen reached her ears and she let out a sigh. Okay, he hadn’t left her. For a moment there she’d thought he’d gone to get her uncle without—
The tall man with blond hair she’d met outside stood alone in the kitchen, scooping what looked to be strawberry ice cream into a large bowl. He looked up as she came to a stop a few feet into the living area, a smile stretching his lips. “Want some?”
She checked the integrity of the towel’s grip around her torso with her hands, watching him dump the pink ball of ice cream into the bowl. “Where’s Dean?”
Tossing the scoop into the sink, Cam pulled a drawer open and dug out a spoon. “Fixing something up with the pool filter. He won’t be long.”
He lifted the bowl and held it out to her. “Strawberry. I think there’s topping somewhere in the fridge if you want.”
She caught her lip with her teeth, inching back a step.
Cam chuckled, placing the bowl on the kitchen counter. “It’s all good, Katy. I’m not going to hurt you. Promise.”
Trying not to look like she was nervous, she searched for any sign of Dean beyond the massive glass doors of the living room. None.
“Go get dressed,” Cam instructed. “I’ll put the ice cream in the freezer so it doesn’t melt.”
She looked at him again.
He gave her a relaxed smile. “Lucy, my wife, is on her way here. It’s been a while since she had a chance to catch up with another female from outside the Creek. Hope you’re up to date with…with…” He snapped his fingers. “God, what’s that show she loves so much?” A scowl knitted his eyebrows and then he snapped his fingers again, his grin stretching wide. “Game of Thrones. That’s it. You a fan?”
Katy nodded.
Cam beamed. “Excellent. She’s going to love you.”
“I’m just…” She took a backward step. “I’ll just go get dressed.”
He gave her a thumbs-up. “Sure. Take your time.”
She pivoted on her heel and hurried back toward Dean’s bedroom, shooting Cam a quick look over her shoulder as she did so.
He gave her another thumbs-up, grin wide, but not before she caught him watching her, frown deep, jaw bunched.
Shit.
Where was Dean? Why was his…his, what had Dean called him, his beta acting so gushy and friendly?
“Won’t be long,” she said, the words tripping over each other.
He nodded.
She fled to the bedroom, gripping the towel as tight as she could. It took her longer than it should to get dressed. Mainly because she tried to yank her shorts on without drying her legs first. The denim grabbed and dragged against her damp skin, slowing down the process with infuriating torment. It took her a few seconds of scouring the room for her bra before her frantic mind remembered Dean had ripped hers apart beside the billabong. Biting back a curse, flicking the closed bedroom door constant harried glances, she snatched up the shirt he’d given her earlier to cover-up, pulled it on, and buttoned it over her boobs with fumbling fingers.
Her heart pounded, a thumping sledgehammer trying to smash its way out of her chest.
With every second she tried to calm herself down, even as she kept checking the door.
She didn’t expect Cam to come running in, butcher’s knife in hand, screaming for her blood, but she didn’t know him. She trusted Dean—a surreal concept, given how few hours she’d known him—and he trusted Cam, but still… Dean wasn’t here.
And she didn’t really know why.
Which meant, when it came down to it, she was alone. Alone with a dingo shifter she didn’t know, and an uncle who was searching for dingo shifters still mysteriously missing.
Scraping her fingers through the damp strands of her hair, she shoved her feet into her Chucks, and hurried to the door.
She opened it a crack, the sound of music wafting down the hallway to her. Frowning, she listened to it over the pounding of her heart and pulse. Mumford and Sons. One of their earliest hits.
Whatever Cam was—good guy or bad—he at least had good taste in music.
“Don’t fuck this up, my dear,” she whispered, closing the door with barely a click, teeth gritted.
She crossed the room to the windows, unlocked the big one in the middle of the row, pushe
d it open, and, stomach a churning knot, climbed through it.
The outside heat, hotter than a damn furnace, blasted at her.
She squinted into the glaring afternoon light, scanning the never-ending emptiness beyond the glass perimeter fence. She didn’t know what she was thinking to see: Dean riding towards her on a white freaking stallion?
“Okay,” she muttered, scrubbing at the tops of her thighs with her palms. “Pool. Let’s see if he is, in fact, doing something to the pool before you panic too much.”
Too much? Getting close to it already, aren’t you? You just climbed out of a window, for Christ’s sake.
Bunching her hands into fists, she half-walked, half-ran around the edge of Dean’s house until she saw the pool, pausing to peer into the large glass doors of the living room.
Cam was still in the kitchen, bopping his head to music she couldn’t hear as he worked on making what appeared to be a stack of sandwiches. He glanced up once, a frown pulling at his forehead as he looked in the direction of Dean’s bedroom.
Katy held her breath, watching him.
He returned to the sandwich making, head once again bopping slightly.
She let out a choppy sigh. Okay. Onto the pool. She couldn’t see Dean anywhere, but there was a cabana-type thing at the far end of it. He could be in there.
He wasn’t.
Okay. Okay. What did she do? What did she do?
Throat tight, her stomach a churning mess of sick tension, she hurried out of the pool yard, stare locked on the glass doors and Cam’s dark shape inside the house.
He continued moving around in the kitchen. By the time she’d scurried beyond the view of the living room and kitchen, he was searching the refrigerator for something.
Perspiration stinging her eyes, the sinking sun’s heat burning her lungs with every breath she pulled, she made her way around the side of the house to where Dean had parked his truck.
And blinked at the empty driveway.
It was gone.
Dean was gone.
Dean had left and his beta had lied to her and what the fuck did she do now? Why did Cam lie to her? Where was Dean? Where was—
Movement in the corner of her eye jerked her stare to the left and a cold fist squeezed her heart.
Wolves. A few feet away from Dean’s property. Crawling slowly toward the house.
Dingo Wild (The Dingo Pack Book 1) Page 8
