Cole grabbed a pair of jeans from the back of one of the living room chairs, not even bothering to put them on. “Come on. We’ve got extra clothes in the truck if we need it and I can get dressed on the way.”
Armand slammed the door shut behind him and hurried after his friends. He was so grateful to them. And when he caught Anny, if she was okay, he was going to put her over his knee and spank her ass for frightening him so badly.
He jumped into the driver’s seat and jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life. Cole sat beside him and Gator had jammed himself into the space behind the seats.
Armand pushed the gas pedal down and the truck shot off down the driveway. Cole had pulled on his jeans and was on the phone with Jacque letting him know what was going on. Both he and Louis would protect Gwen until they got back.
Armand took a deep breath and tried to calm the almost overpowering sense of doom that flooded through him. No, when he got Anny back, he wouldn’t spank her, knew he could never lay a hand on her in anger. He’d wrap her in his arms and never let her go.
It was past time she understood she belonged to him, was his mate for life. He’d given her time to try to get used to her new situation, knew she had trust issues she had to deal with, but time had run out for both of them.
Armand couldn’t live without Anny in his life. He wanted to mark her as his mate. He only hoped he got the chance to tell her he loved her, that he wasn’t too late.
Inside him, his wolf was quiet, concentrating solely on the task of getting Anny back. But overriding everything was the sense impending doom. Something was going to happen to Anny. He just knew it.
Cole tucked the phone back into his jeans pocket before pulling them on. He didn’t bother with any other clothing in case he had to strip and shift in a hurry. Gator was in his wolf form, ready to fight. He gave silent thanks for his friends and their willingness to put their lives on the line for his woman, his mate.
Armand took a sharp turn hard, the tires squealing as he pushed the truck as fast as he could. He had to get to Anny.
Chapter Eighteen
The house looked the same as it always had. Nothing had changed. But Anny didn’t feel the sense of homecoming, of pride and ownership that she usually did every time she pulled into her driveway. She sat in her car and stared at the bungalow that had been home to her since she’d bought it three years ago. It felt empty, deserted.
“Fifteen minutes tops,” she promised herself. Anny clutched her keys in her hands and climbed out of the car. She inhaled deeply, smelling only the crisp air, the more acidic scent of the pine and fir trees and the earthy scent of the fallen leaves. She was alone.
She needed to rake the front lawn one final time before the snow fell and clean out her flower gardens to get them ready for winter. The rake and shovel were propped against the front of the house where she’d left them the last time she’d worked in her yard. It was time to finish the job and put the tools away until next spring.
And she was stalling. Her hands trembled as she inserted the key in the front door and turned it. She pushed inside and shut the door, locking it behind her.
Home. It hadn’t changed in here either. Same sofa and television. Same lamps and rug. Yet it all felt foreign.
Anny released a deep breath, pocketed her keys and headed to the bedroom. She’d pack first and then clean out any perishables from the kitchen. Anything that had gone bad would go in the garbage. If it was still good, she’d bag it up to take back to Armand’s place.
Now that she had a definite plan, she felt calmer. A discarded pair of jeans was still draped across the chair in the bedroom and the book she was reading sat on her nightstand. Time had stopped here days ago.
Anny was used to being alone and had never minded it at all. She enjoyed her own company. But today she was on edge.
“It’s because of the attack. That’s all.” She went to her closet and pulled out an oversized tote bag. It would hold a few changes of clothing, her book and toiletries. She went to work and in no time had the bag filled.
That chore done, she picked up the bag and turned her back on the bedroom. She set her tote bag by the front door and headed to the kitchen. There was nothing on the counter, which was good. She opened the refrigerator door and screwed up her nose. Definitely a few things here that could go.
She pulled a garbage bag out of one of the kitchen drawers and went to work. In no time, the refrigerator was cleared out of everything but condiments. She had a partial bag of garbage and several cloth grocery bags filled with a variety of food from fruit and vegetables to cheese.
Anny tied off the garbage bag and checked her watch. A little more than ten minutes. She was doing good. Time to leave.
She knew she should put the garbage in the shed out back, but she was suddenly too nervous to head out that way on her own. It wasn’t far from the path where she was attacked.
“I’ll just take it back to Armand’s,” she decided. They had to have some kind of garbage pick up.
It was going to take two trips to get everything to the car. She set everything outside on the front porch and then locked the door behind her. Anny grabbed her tote bag and one of the bags of groceries and hurried to her car. She popped the trunk and set the bags inside. One more trip for the rest of the groceries and the garbage and she’d be on her way back to Armand.
She was almost back to the front step when she realized the woods had gone eerily quiet. No birds twittered and there was no animal movement at all. Fear skittered down her spine. Anny knew she was no longer alone.
Remy LaForge couldn’t believe his luck. After all the bad shit that had happened recently, he was being rewarded. The little bitch had come back to her home by herself. Too bad Travis wasn’t here with him. But the younger Dubois brother was out scouting around the town, searching for the illusive Anny Conrad.
Remy was still smarting over the beating his older brother had given him. The injuries were long healed, but the humiliation remained. And it was all her fault. If she’d died like she was supposed to, everything would have been just fine.
Well, he was here to remedy the situation. Today Anny Conrad would die.
He prowled closer to the small house. She was inside. He didn’t know how long she was going to be here, but she was definitely alone. Remy smirked at the thought of his son finding her dead body. That was worth the beating he’d taken from Pierre. Almost.
He was about to move toward the house when she opened the front door and stepped out. Seemed like her trip here was a short one and his visit was well timed. If he’d gone into Salvation with Travis, he’d have missed her.
She carried several bags to the car and went back for more. He stripped out of his clothes and shifted into his wolf form. All the better to scare her. He did so love the smell of fear.
She was almost to the base of the steps when she suddenly stopped. So she was smart enough to realize something was wrong. This could be more fun than last time. Maybe she’d offer more of a fight.
Remy stepped out of the woods and waited for her to notice him.
Anny swallowed hard and took a deep breath. She needed to be calm. Maybe it was nothing. But she truly didn’t believe that. The wolf inside her was agitated, urging her to hurry.
Screw the rest of the food and the garbage. She’d send one of the men back for it later, and if the animals had carted it off by then, so be it.
Anny whirled back toward the car and quickly stumbled to a halt. A huge black and brown wolf stared back at her. Her heart started racing and her palms began to sweat. It was the same wolf that had attacked her.
Don’t show any fear.
She wasn’t sure if the voice was her own inner one or that of her wolf, but either way, the advice was sound. “I didn’t expect to see you again.” She was proud that her voice sounded strong even though she was trembling inside.
Could she get back inside the house before he attacked? She’d locked the damn door and the keys were in he
r front pocket. By the time she pulled them out and got to the door, he’d be on her. He was incredibly fast. That much she remembered.
His brown eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth, emitting a low growl. It was designed to scare her and it was doing a damn fine job. She was utterly terrified.
You must shift.
Anny ignored her inner voice.
You must shift. As a wolf you can run faster.
“I can’t,” she whispered. It was one thing to accept she had enhanced senses. That was kind of cool. It was totally another to believe she could morph into a wolf. And to be quite honest, the whole transformation thing looked painful.
The male wolf growled and inched closer. Anny eyed the car. The front door was unlocked. If she could make it there, she might have a chance. She took one quick step forward and then skidded back, almost slipping on some damp leaves when the wolf launched itself into the air, landing between her and the car.
This didn’t look good.
Anny was suddenly sorry she’d left Armand’s home. Not so much because of the fact she was probably going to die, but because she knew Armand would blame himself for it.
She pictured his beloved face, the dark-chocolate eyes, the severe scars that bisected the left side of his face, his sensual lips and stubborn chin. Oh God, she loved him. What a time to admit the truth to herself. She’d loved him for a while now, maybe even from the first night they’d been together, but she’d been too afraid, too stubborn to admit it.
The wolf shimmered and shifted, turning into a tall, brutish-looking man. Anny could see some similarity between Armand and his father. And what kind of father would do this to his son, knowing it would cause him pain? This man was totally evil.
“You lived.”
She nodded. Maybe she could keep him talking and buy some time until she figured out what to do. She couldn’t count on any rescue. She had no idea just how long Armand and the others would be out patrolling. It could be hours before they found her note. And time was one thing she didn’t have.
Again, the wolf inside her was urging her to strip off her clothes and shift. The idea of becoming a wolf kind of freaked her out, not that she really believed she could do it.
“You wear my mark.” It was said with a perverse kind of pride.
Anny’s hand automatically went to the fading scars on her neck, but she pulled her fingers away when she caught the glow of malicious pleasure in his eyes. She wouldn’t give the bastard the satisfaction of letting him know just how much she hated them.
“Do you always make a habit of attacking those weaker than you, Remy? Kinda cowardly, isn’t it?” She knew she was goading him, but she couldn’t help herself. Anger was warring with fear inside her and anger had just edged out to the forefront.
He frowned and then growled. Even though he was human in form, the sound was all wolf. Anny shivered and took a step back. Remy noted the tiny movement and smiled.
“Only the strong survive, and my son is weak. You are weak.”
Anny thought about all she’d learned about the Louisiana pack. It was run by Jacque and Louis’s father, who was also Remy’s brother. She struck for his weakness. “Is that why you’re not alpha of your pack, because you’re weak?”
She caught a glimpse of the rake and shovel out of the corner of her eye. They were both potential weapons. She could defend herself this time. Not only were her senses better, but she was also stronger now. Not as strong as this full-blooded male werewolf, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Fury radiated from Remy, and she knew she’d struck a blow to his pride.
“I was going to kill you quickly, but now I’m going to take my time.”
Anny lunged for the porch and grabbed the heavy shovel, holding it out in front of her. “Stay away from me.”
Remy laughed, and the sinister sound made her blood run cold. “Do you really think such a puny weapon can stop me?”
No, she really didn’t, but it was all she had.
Shift and run, her wolf demanded.
How? She was crazy to even consider trying, but she was beyond desperate. Flashbacks from the earlier attack were making her sweat. She knew Remy could smell her fear.
He smiled at her. “I’m the big bad wolf, little girl,” he taunted. Then he shifted and attacked in one motion.
Anny raised the shovel and wielded it like a bat, swinging the heavy metal end at the wolf’s head. It connected with a thud and the wooden handle cracked off in her hands, leaving her with nothing but a stick to fight with. The wolf was momentarily stunned, but he was still between her and the car. Anny dropped the slender piece of wood, whirled and ran as if her life depended on it, because it did. She jumped off the end of the porch and kept going, not looking back.
Shift, her wolf demanded.
“I’m losing my mind,” she muttered. She yanked off the sweater she wore and dropped it. Her bra followed.
A loud howl split the air and she knew Remy was coming for her.
Anny was breathing heavily, her lungs heaving and her limbs trembling. She stumbled to a stop and kicked off her shoes. She skimmed off her jeans and panties, praying she wasn’t making a mistake and signing her own death warrant.
“Help me,” she demanded of her wolf.
Embrace me. Become me.
Anny heard the heavy thump of Remy’s paws as he bound through the woods. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet. He wanted her to know he was coming for her. She shut her eyes and blocked out all sound, all sight. All her concentration was on the ghostly wolf inside her. She opened her arms and embraced the creature within her.
The first tingles scared her, but she swallowed back her fear and threw herself into the change. If she couldn’t shift, she was going to die. She might die anyway, but at least this way she had a fighting chance.
She should have talked to Armand about this, but she’d been too afraid to ask. Now she was totally on her own.
Her limbs contorted and she fell forward onto the mossy ground. It wasn’t hands that hit the dirt, but wide paws. Her jaw lengthened and her skull reformed. Fur pushed out through her skin until it covered her entire body. It was over in seconds. Anny’s ears twitched and she froze. Her ears could actually twitch.
And they caught the unmistakable sound of another wolf that was almost upon her.
Run.
Her wolf didn’t have to tell her twice. Anny noticed her car keys had fallen out of her jeans pocket. She grabbed them with her teeth and started running. If she could work her way back around to the car, she could escape her attacker. She had clothing in the trunk and, at this point, she didn’t care if she had to drive all the way back to Armand’s stark naked.
Anny ran, letting her wolf guide her. She had no idea where she was going, but her wolf seemed to know what she was doing. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Anny might have enjoyed the breakneck run through the woods. She felt different, but still herself. It was an amazing feeling to have the wind ruffling her fur—for God’s sake, she had fur—as she raced under branches and around trees at top speed.
She was light on her feet—uh, paws. Her sense of the world around her was magnified to an incredible degree. And what those senses were telling her was that Remy was gaining on her. The other animal was bigger and stronger. She couldn’t outrun him.
She hit the stream, not pulling up at all as she bounded down the center of the water about one hundred yards before galloping up the embankment and doubling back. She hoped he’d lose her scent long enough for her to slip around him and head back to the house and freedom.
It was her only chance.
Armand skidded to a stop in Anny’s driveway, slammed the vehicle in park and was out of the truck while it was still rocking to a halt. He was dimly aware of Cole and Gator jumping out right behind him.
He took in the car with the open trunk, the bags on the porch and the broken shovel. He inhaled and caught Anny’s fear and the stench of his sire.
He k
icked off his shoes, ripped off his jeans and shifted, letting his wolf have the lead in this hunt. The porch was where her scent was the strongest. He followed it to the end and off toward the woods. Armand tipped back his head and howled a challenge. He’d kill the old man this time.
He ran faster than he ever had in his life. Cole managed to keep up, but Gator lagged behind. Armand didn’t let up. Anny was out there in the woods, alone and terrified. And Remy was hunting her.
Armand thought he’d understood fury, but not until that moment did he truly comprehend it. It wasn’t hot and frenzied at all. It was cold and calm and dangerous. And incredibly focused. His father would not walk out of these woods alive. Armand could not allow the threat to Anny to exist.
He paused when he came to her discarded clothing. What had she done? Why had she stripped? Or had his father ripped the clothing from her?
His heart skipped a beat before racing again. He nudged her jeans and his sweater with his muzzle. There were no signs of rips, no scent of blood. So Anny had removed her own clothing.
In the distance, he heard something crashing through the woods. Something big and fast. He gave a yip and Cole and Gator fell in behind him as they changed direction.
The house. Whoever it was, they were heading toward the house. He sniffed the air, but it was blowing in the wrong direction for him to catch a scent. He jerked his head to one side and Gator and Cole broke off and continued to follow the original trail. Better to be safe than sorry. If this was his father, Anny was still out there somewhere. There could be more wolves than just his father in these woods.
He didn’t allow himself to even think she might be dead. He couldn’t. Otherwise he’d give in to the black pit of despair that threatened to swallow him whole.
Lungs burning, heart pounding, he pushed his wolf harder than he ever had, and the creature responded, giving him everything. Their mate was out there alone and she was being threatened. Both man and wolf would die to protect her.
He cut back into the yard, racing just ahead of whoever was stumbling through the woods. He positioned himself between the woods and the house and waited.
Wolf in Her Bed: Salvation Pack, Book 2 Page 19
