The Wolf Within

by M. J. Scott

  So I did what I had to do to ease the conflicting needs of head and heart and screaming-for-release skin.

  I pulled my hands free, pulled his head down to mine as I tightened my muscles around his cock and whispered, “Fuck me.”

  He did.

  With a cry that sounded like it was torn from his throat he pulled back then plunged into me again. Hard. Fast. Over and over. Everything I’d wanted. Everything I needed to send me speeding back toward pure sensation and overwhelming drive toward release.

  It was no longer Dan and me and everything that implied. It was just male and female and the need to claim each other as simply as possible. With flesh and hunger and bodies that spoke things we couldn’t say.

  I don’t know how long it took. But it was glorious and wonderful and I wanted to lie there forever moving with him, rolling and tearing and drinking him in. But my body had other ideas as the slide of flesh quickened and our breathing roughened and the noises and words we spoke grew more frantic.

  Dan slid his hands under my hips, angling me up so he could go even deeper, each stroke hitting some point inside me that sent sparks flashing behind closed eyes.

  Slick skin against slick skin made me shiver as the sensations built and built. His mouth coming down on mine again finally sent me diving into an orgasm so intense I did scream for him as I just held on, muscles spasming and pleasure I’d never imagined flooding every nerve.

  A few seconds later, Dan shouted my name and drove into me again before collapsing against me like he’d forgotten how to breathe.

  I wasn’t so sure I remembered myself so I just held him and drifted until the aftershocks faded.

  Eventually, Dan lifted his head. I opened my eyes to find him grinning down at me. The curve of his mouth did strange things to my stomach. Or somewhere north of that, if I was totally honest. But I wasn’t ready to deal with my heart.

  “You were right. Beds are overrated,” he said in a half growl.

  I laughed though I was starting to become aware that my back didn’t necessarily agree with him. “Doesn’t mean I would object to one for round two.”

  “Round two?” He laid his forehead against mine. “Fuck, Ash. You trying to kill me?”

  “You got some better way to go?” I moved my hips, felt his cock stir to life.

  “Hell, no. Bed it is.” He rolled off me then reached out and took my hand.

  “Your room,” I said as we staggered to our feet and he picked me up again.

  He looked confused. “Why?”

  I summoned my best just-shut-up-and-do-me smile. “It’s closer.” And I wasn’t ready to wake up with Dan in my bed. Tonight was about now. Not forever. I couldn’t cope with forever. If I let Dan into my bed, I was going to have a hell of a time kicking him out again.

  Dan frowned a little but then shrugged and headed for his room. Sometime—about four orgasms—later, I left him sleeping the sleep of the righteously laid and snuck back to my own bed. For a long time I just lay under the covers, staring into the dark and wondering what the hell I’d just done.

  Especially that last time when I couldn’t help it any longer and heat and passion had slowed to something sweeter and deeper, Dan’s eyes almost drowning me as he moved softly inside me until we both melted. Just like we used to before any of this had happened. It was enough to bring back all the doubts and fears about what letting him in would mean and send me scurrying back to my own bed as soon as he’d fallen asleep.

  Eventually, after the answer had come back as “no fucking idea" about fifty times, I managed to convince my brain to take the Scarlett O’Hara approach and think about it tomorrow.

  I fell into sleep like a dead thing and didn’t move until my door crashed open around five am and the light blazed into life.

  “Get up,” Dan snarled, voice like ashes.

  I blinked up at him, trying to get my brain to connect. The look on his face worked effectively as a bucket of ice water over my head, clearing the cobwebs with an icy blast that left me chilled.

  He looked pissed. More than pissed.

  Enraged.

  “What’s going on?” I sat up, hoping my leaving him alone in bed wasn’t responsible for his mood.

  “They found Ben,” He said, staring at me with eyes like shattered silver ice. “We have to go.”

  I abandoned all my planned explanations and rationales for why I was in my bed, not his as the words sank in.

  Found Ben. Oh God.

  It couldn’t be good news. Dan wouldn’t look like he did if it was good news. I pulled the covers closer around me, suddenly freezing. I didn’t want to ask the question. I wasn’t sure I could bear the answer. Natalie’s face at the pack meeting–happy and laughing as she looked up at her husband–floated before my eyes.

  “Found him?” It was as close as I could get to the real question. I prayed in my head, prayed that Dan would say “he’s okay” and everything would be okay.

  But I knew it wasn’t, even before Dan opened his mouth.

  “In pieces,” he said.

  The room spun around me. I half-rolled to the side of the bed and threw up.

  Dead. Dead. Dead.

  Natalie was right. This was my fault. I threw up again. And again and again until I was dry retching.

  When I finally lifted my head, Dan still stood by the door. Which didn’t make me feel any better. It wasn’t just Ben. He was mad about last night. Otherwise he’d be comforting me.

  “Finished?” he said icily.

  I nodded slowly, not really sure.

  “Then get dressed. I’m leaving in ten minutes with or without you.”

  Then he was gone.

  I staggered into the bathroom and ran cold water over my head until the worst of the dizziness and nausea passed. Then I got dressed, hair dripping everywhere and made it downstairs and into the car just before Dan turned on the ignition.

  He didn’t say anything and I couldn’t think of anything to say that could possibly make the situation any better. So I just shut up and hid behind my sunglasses, pretending there were no tears rolling down my cheeks as we sped through Seattle and pictures of body parts filled my head.

  Dan took the exit for Sea-Tac and it dawned on me where we were headed. The Retreat.

  “Oh God,” I said. “Please, not there.” The tears came faster. Tate couldn’t have come up with a better way to attack the pack than to kill one of its members in the place they were supposed to be safest.

  Dan kept his eyes on the road. “Where else?”

  His voice was bitter and I knew whatever I was feeling had to be a thousand times worse for him. He’d been a werewolf for four years. A long time. He was friends—family really—with everyone in the pack. With Ben.

  And he was the one who’d brought me into their lives. Brought Tate into their lives via me.

  Me, who’d just treated him like he meant nothing to me.

  Which was pretty much par for the course for how I’d been treating him since he turned. But finally having sex with him and then stealing away in the middle of the night was a whole new level of abominable behavior. Shame mingled with the nausea still riding my stomach. I clutched the armrest by the window, determined not to throw up again.

  God. What had I done?

  The drive seemed as endless as the chasm that had opened up between us. There were a couple of blue and whites parked at the turn-off to the road that led to the Retreat and an officer flagged us down and made Dan show his badge before the policeman waved us through.

  I was tempted to ask Dan to drop me off so I could just stay up here, away from whatever had happened inside the walls. Away from the bunch of angry wolves I’d be facing.

  Away from Dan.

  As far as I could tell, he’d probably throw me out of the Jeep while it was still moving and not look back.

  I wouldn’t blame him one bit.

  When we got to the main house, Ani and Sam were standing on the front porch, arms around each other. Bu
t I couldn’t see any of the other wolves. Relief eased the knots in my stomach only to be immediately followed by burning guilt.

  Esme stood a little way apart from Ani and Sam. She looked almost relieved when Dan pulled the Jeep to a halt.

  She came over as he climbed out and started a rapid-fire report I tried not to listen to.

  I didn’t want to hear the details.

  They walked toward the house and I stayed where I was, unable to move as I watched Ani and Sam.

  The last time I’d been here I’d been terrified of what was going to happen to me.

  Now I was terrified of what had happened. Because of the pain it caused Natalie and the pack, and because it might take away from me the one thing that looked like it could make being a wolf something I could live with.

  The one thing beside Dan, that is.

  As I watched, Dan and Esme disappeared into the house with Sam. Ani headed in my direction.

  I slouched down in my seat.

  Ani rapped on the window. I forced myself to lower it.

  “Ashley? Are you okay?”

  My guilt intensified. She was asking me if I was okay when she’d just lost one of her family.

  “I’m fine,” I said quietly. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Brown eyes looked at me curiously. “You’re pack. I worry about everyone. Come into the house.”

  “I don’t think Dan wants me in there,” I muttered.

  Her expression softened. “Dan’s upset right now, don’t pay any attention to him.”

  “Is Natalie here?”

  Ani shook her head. “She’s with her other family.”

  “Did you have to. . . .” I meant had she been the one to identify the body.

  “Sam did.” She looked down, swallowed. But then her head came back up, her expression fierce.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling lower than dirt. “This is my fault.”

  “This is no one’s fault but Tate’s. Trust me, he’ll be taught to leave the pack alone.” Her eyes burned and I knew she believed it. So maybe I could believe we’d beat him too.

  And to do that, I had to get out of the car.

  When we got into the house, Esme was waiting in the hall. Dan was nowhere to be seen.

  “Ashley, come with me please.” Esme said.

  Ani patted my arm and walked away.

  “What?” I said to Esme, “Where’s Dan?”

  “He’s busy,” she said shortly. “He wants you to keep working on the financial stuff. We’ve managed to trace a few more things back to the Sutton place.”

  I wanted to argue, wanted to go after Dan and the others but I knew I’d only be in the way. So I let Esme lead me upstairs and hid away in a room they’d set up with my computer and a stack of files, trying to think of a new angle. I’d been trying to see if the Synotech connection was real but as far as I, or the Taskforce could tell, they were completely legit with no connection to Tate anywhere. And even though we’d scoured their employee records, none of them, past or present looked like Smith. Without knowing the doctor’s real name, there was no way to track him. It was another dead end.

  To make matters worse, my mind kept bouncing between memories of being held by Tate—Tate, Smith, Rio—and imagining what they might have done to Ben before they killed him.

  ***

  After a couple of hours of torturing myself mentally I went back downstairs, looking for Dan, hoping he might have calmed down so that I could apologize. Or grovel. Do whatever it would take to ease the ice out of his eyes. But I couldn’t see him. I grabbed the arm of the nearest agent. “Where’s Agent Gibson?”

  “I think he went outside.”

  I looked at the crowd of agents, contemplated wading my way through them all to reach the door. Decided I could wait. “Just tell him I was looking for him.”

  “Sure thing, Ms. Keenan.”

  I went back upstairs to the computer, glad to throw myself back into the only escape I had. Until we found another way into the Synotech connection, I’d stick to the trails I’d already been following. I’d already tracked the Sutton property back through a trail of seven dummy corporations and had finally hit what seemed to be a real organization. Not one that had Tate’s name anywhere on any document associated with it but it was a start . . . more than we’d had before.

  I buried myself in the numbers and the online paper trail until my stomach started to growl a protest, forcing me out of my lair in search of food.

  I still couldn’t see Dan when I reached the kitchen. I glanced at my watch. Nearly two hours had passed since I’d first looked for him.

  Esme was standing by the sink, pouring herself a cup of coffee. She looked immaculate as always, not a hair out of place although I knew she’d been up since before five like the rest of us. I didn’t know whether the good grooming was a cat thing or just her, but it didn’t make her any more likeable.

  She was talking to Agent Stevens as she poured. I joined her. My arm knocked hers as I reached for a mug and coffee splashed everywhere—mostly on Agent Stevens.

  “Sorry, Robert,” Esme said.

  Robert? His name was Robert? I froze as her words made me flash on Smith’s face. Why? The memory refused to clear and slid away. I blinked then remembered why I’d come downstairs.

  “Where’s Dan?” I held up my mug. Caffeine wouldn’t stop me feeling scruffy compared to Esme but it would help me think.

  She shrugged and poured. “I haven’t seen him.”

  “I thought you two were working pretty closely?” I gulped coffee, rubbing my eyes to try and convince myself I felt better than half-dead.

  “We are. But he said he was going to talk to the chief.”

  “How long ago?”

  Another shrug. “I’m not sure. Maybe after lunch?”

  It was close to four now. So Dan had been gone a long time. I pulled at my cell and dialed his number. Voicemail.

  Voicemail in the middle of an investigation? A distinct uneasy feeling crept down my spine and the coffee turned to acid in my stomach. “Can you ask around, see who saw him last?”

  “What’s the rush? You two got a hot date tonight?”

  I tried to ignore the aggressive tone in her voice. “Esme, we’re dealing with a psycho who’s been killing vamps and weres. Dan’s the Agent in Charge. You don’t think he’s an attractive target for Tate?”

  She had the grace to look a little shame-faced. Just a little. “All right, I’ll ask.”

  “Thank you.” I dialed another number on my cell. “Have you seen Dan in the last few hours?” I asked when Jase answered.

  “No, he hasn’t been by the office at all.” He sounded a little confused. “Was he going to come by? He left a message about Ben. I’m sorry, Ash.”

  “Thanks.” I couldn’t think about Ben. I had to focus on tracking down Dan. “Have you, uh, felt anything today?” I asked.

  “No. Ash, is something wrong?”

  Apart from the feeling of dread in my stomach? It took me a second to answer. I didn’t trust my voice. “No. I’m just jumpy. Everything’s fine. I call you later.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you know if Dan calls.”

  I hung up the phone before Jase could ask any of the questions that I heard in his tone. It rang again, almost immediately.

  “Dan?” I said eagerly.

  “Sorry, Pretty, Dan can’t come to the phone right now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Rio. His voice made my knees buckle. I’d know it anywhere. I’d heard it often enough in my nightmares. “Where is he?”

  “Safe with us, Pretty,” Rio said mockingly. “For now.”

  They had Dan.

  Fear beat through me, choking my throat and drying my mouth.

  They had Dan.

  They’d do to him what they’d just done to Ben. I clenched my jaw to keep my teeth from chattering and forced myself to speak. “What do you want?”

  “Boss would like to see you.”

  Fear
turned to blind panic and I slid down the wall white noise roaring in my ears. Put myself back in Tate’s hands? How could I?

  How could I leave Dan there?

  I clutched my cell so hard the plastic cover started to buckle, forcing me to ease up before I destroyed the phone entirely. “Where?”

  Rio chuckled. “Ah, Pretty. I can’t make it that easy for you. You’ll have to find him yourself. Your clever Taskforce friends can help you.”

  “I’m going to kill you,” I snarled. “When I find you, you’re dead.”

  “Ooh, I’m scared.”

  I could almost see the smirk on his face. A smirk I intended to tear off. He was forgetting I wasn’t just a helpless human any more. If I could keep him talking, maybe he’d give me a clue. I strained my ears, trying to hear anything in the background of the call beyond the usual cell phone fuzziness. There. Maybe a faint rumble? And a blast of something almost at the edge of hearing. What was that? Keep him talking. “Surely Tate doesn’t want to wait. Tell me where to find you.”

  Rio laughed again. “Sorry, Pretty. Just come alone and don’t take too long. We had fun with that other wolf. Pity we couldn’t put all the pieces back together. Perhaps this time we’ll do better. Offer him all the comforts of home.”

  “If you hurt him—”

  The dial tone buzzed in my ear before I could reply. I tried to think, the urge to scream clawing at the back of my throat. I wanted to hit someone. Hurt someone. But I had to find Dan first. Then there’d be plenty of pain.

  Anger bit deep in the pit of my stomach and the need to change grew with it. The wolf wanted out. But the wolf couldn’t help me now. I shoved myself to a standing position, took a second to make sure my legs would hold me, and went to find Esme.

  Luckily, she wasn’t hard to find. She was right in the foyer talking to a bunch of other agents. They all looked tired and stressed, suits wrinkled, ties loosened around necks. Apart from Esme, of course.

  “Tate has Dan,” I said. No point beating around the bush. I shoved my cell phone into her hands.

  Esme gaped at me, blank disbelief on her face breaking through the feline cool. “What are you talking about?”