Wolf at the Door

by Sadie Hart

  Nathan gave a soft growl.

  “He demanded she change him. When she wouldn’t, he started killing. He kept his ‘mate’ alive, and after she escaped he stopped killing. At least, we think he did. I’m not so sure, now.” Not after today. Brandt was now sure if Ms. Dawson hadn’t managed to get away, she’d have been raped and killed just like Wolfe’s other victims.

  There had to be more that had happened between Timber’s escape and when the Wolfman found her again. Brandt just didn’t know how many incidents, or how her escape had affected his routine.

  “His ‘mate’...”

  “Was Timber Kearney. The Bear Creek alpha.”

  Nathan rocked back in his chair. “Shit. I knew the woman had demons but—” He let out a soft whistle.

  “I don’t know all the details of the time spent with Wolfe and—”

  Nathan nodded. “I get it. I don’t need to know. Do you think he’s after her again?”

  “The most recent victim was a member of her pack. He left a gift from that kill at Timber’s front door. I’m certain he’s after her again, but what he’ll do in the meantime, or while he’s thwarted, I don’t know.”

  “Would explain why I ended up with a chunk of her pack.” Nathan drummed his fingertips against his knees. His nostrils flared slightly. “Also explains why you smell like her. Though why you’re playing bodyguard instead of moving her into witness protection...”

  “She won’t go. Believe it or not, Shifter Town Enforcement has pretty crappy track record for actually keeping shifters safe.”

  That drew a soft laugh. Like most shifters, Nathan had experienced his share of shitty run-ins with the law enforcement which was supposed to be on their side. “Nah. Never would have guessed.”

  Brandt was ready to say more when his phone rang. He reached for it automatically. “Just because I believe Wolfe is after Timber specifically doesn’t mean I think your pack is safe.”

  “Doesn’t matter what you think. Until this bastard is dead, I don’t judge my pack safe.”

  Fair enough.

  Timber Kearney flashed across his screen. He frowned. “Excuse me. I should take this.”

  Brandt stood as he lifted the phone to his ear.

  “Brandt?” She sounded broken. Shattered. And suddenly Nathan was standing next to him. There was no such thing as a private conversation in a room with a shifter, and Nathan would recognize the terror in Timber’s voice.

  “Are you okay? Are you safe?” And if not, he was going to fucking kill the Hounds he’d assigned to park in front of Timber’s house.

  “I’m fine.” He heard something slip across tile. “He called. He’s been watching the house.”

  He heard her sharp inhale. He knew she was close to tears, could feel her fighting them. There was a soft swallow on the other end of the line. “Just thought you should know.”

  “What did he say, Timber?”

  She made a low whimper, so full of pain it tore at his heart. Damn it. Hadn’t she been through enough? Hadn’t this bastard tortured her for long enough?

  Then she gave a rough sound, almost like a shadow of a laugh, but it was hollow. No amusement behind it. “That I don’t belong to you. That you can’t stay here every night.” She snorted softly, and then, “I would have thought he’d figured it out when he had to chain me down. I never belonged to him. Ever.”

  Rage slammed through him and Brandt clutched the phone. Every muscle in his body had gone rigid, taut. “No,” Brandt said softly. “The only person you have ever belonged to is you, Timber. Don’t let him make you forget that.”

  “How did he get my number?”

  “I don’t know.” But he was going to find out.

  Brandt’s gaze lifted to meet Nathan’s, the anger inside him fanning to a full-fledged wildfire. Nathan nodded. In some instances, Nathan still had more reach through his military connections than Brandt would ever have.

  “I’ll look into it,” Nathan whispered, and left.

  She’d been happy last night. Content. Free. The idea that Wolfe had been watching the entire time, and Brandt hadn’t known, left him cold. Furious. Fuck, but he wanted to put a bullet in Charles Wolfe’s head. The bastard had stolen enough from this woman; she didn’t deserve to suffer anymore.

  “I’m not safe,” she said finally, softly. “Nor is anyone near—”

  “Remember, he has to go through me first.”

  “Not if you walk away now.”

  Brandt closed his eyes. She was giving him an out. She’d been raped and tortured by this man and, instead of clinging to the one bit of protection she dared to accept, she was giving him an out. There was no way in hell he was taking it. “I’m not going anywhere, Timber. You won’t face him alone.”

  Hell, he’d be damned if she had to face Charles Wolfe at all.

  If Brandt had it his way, he was going to be the only person Wolfe got to see for the hopefully brief time he had left.

  Chapter Ten

  Slinking from the trees, the wolf crept behind one bush after another, confident his charcoal coat blended into the shadows, rendering him invisible. This was what it meant to be powerful. To be a beast. Charles bared fangs at the house in front of him. He was as close to Timber as he’d been in years, but the little bitch wasn’t alone.

  His gaze cut to the patrol car parked at the end of her street. A man and a woman lounged against the hood, and even from way over here he could catch their scent. Hounds. Dogs. Filthy little mutts. He forced back the growl that built inside him. The wind was in his favor, but if he made too much racket even a dog would hear him.

  He was pretty sure he could get inside without them noticing, but Timber didn’t give in easily. She’d fight, and then her pesky little guards would come racing to her rescue. One-on-one, when the opponent was without a gun, a wolf should always win. But they weren’t interested in playing fair, so a Hound would never go unarmed. Lowering himself into the thick grasses, the wolf watched them. They were the second set of guards so far today. One patrol didn’t leave until after the next one had arrived and searched the premises.

  They were being remarkably thorough.

  And they were doing it for a wolf-shifter.

  At first, Charles hadn’t understood. He’d met Hounds before, and they’d never given a rat’s ass about shifters. But it made sense now, after what he’d seen last night. She’d run and played with that mutt like he was supposed to be her mate. His growl simmered, and Charles flexed his paws, digging his nails into the dirt. That was why she was so well protected. She was fucking a Hound.

  He was going to have to fix that, and soon. Obviously, he couldn’t get to Timber with so many eyes on her, but no fuck was worth having to watch your own men die. Charles shrank back out of the bush and into the trees, moving fast toward the road that cut across the field behind Timber’s house.

  If there was one thing he’d learned over the years, it was that Hounds always looked out for their own first. The moment a few members of Shifter Town Enforcement died was the moment they’d desert Timber.

  After all, what was one wolf-shifter compared to a few Hounds?

  ***

  Were they blind? Nose-deaf?

  Brandt ground his teeth as he glowered at the bush not fifty feet from Timber’s house. He recognized the scent of the wolf that had crouched there. Hell, he’d never forget that stench, not if he lived to be a thousand. Wolfe had been right here, watching them all, and his Hounds hadn’t had a clue. Brandt whirled on the pair of Hounds standing beside him and they both winced.

  “Boss, we never saw him. Never—”

  Brandt didn’t care. Right now Wolfe was getting the upper hand. He’d watched her last night, contacted her today, and gotten so close he might have been able to get in that house and get her out before Brandt’s pack had any idea what was going on.

  “Do circuits from here on out. Patrols, constantly. One of you by the car keeping an eye on the house, and the other one doing loops, got
it? Change off every half hour, and I don’t give a shit if your legs fall off.” Brandt spun again, assaulted once more by the musky scent of wolf. The bastard had watched from the bushes for a good fifteen to twenty minutes. “And check the wind. He’s smart, and he knows how to use his senses. He’ll stay where the wind is good for him. Make sure he doesn’t have that luxury anymore.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And call Tate and order a phone tap.” Timber might not like it, but Brandt couldn’t think of any other way to keep her safe. He wanted to know where this bastard was calling from, wanted to know everything he said to her. Because somewhere along the line, Charles Wolfe was going to slip up, and Brandt was going to be right there to bring him down.

  Brandt left them both on the lawn and strode up to Timber’s porch. The door was locked, and he had to knock several times before he heard the lock turn over. Timber opened it for him, her shoulder braced against the hallway wall. In the dim light of the narrow room she looked so vulnerable. Shaken.

  Brandt took a step closer and she stiffened. “You okay?”

  “Better.”

  She shoved away from the wall and walked toward the kitchen. The smell of citrus teased at his nose, but underneath he caught the acidic reek of vomit. Shit. She shouldn’t have been alone for that call. Brandt saw the mop and bucket sitting beside the refrigerator. “We’re still looking into how he got your number.”

  “He knows where I live, knows how to call me, how long before he makes it the rest of the way in?” She didn’t look at him while she asked the question. Instead, she stared out at the pair of Hounds still standing on her lawn. Hell. Brandt couldn’t help wondering just how much she knew. Had she seen Wolfe out there today?

  “He was here, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah.” Because lying to her wasn’t an option. She deserved better than that.

  She turned so that her back was to the counter, her palms braced against the edge, and looked at him. “Teach me how to shoot.”

  A spurt of surprise slammed through him. “Timber...”

  “I’m not asking, Brandt. You’ll teach me, or I’ll find someone who will. But I won’t have him coming up on me before I’m at the point where a gun feels comfortable in my hand. When he comes for me...and you know he’s going to...I want to make sure he’s the one lying dead instead of me. I want to be able to fight back. I will not be weak. He doesn’t get another chance to break me.”

  “All right.” A niggling voice in his mind tried to convince him he was being an idiot, that he’d regret this. But right now Timber needed confidence. Not necessarily in him or the Hounds who worked for him, but in herself. She needed to know she stood a chance. “Have you thought about self-defense classes?”

  “I took a few shortly after I got far enough away from Charles to feel safe. Time encourages you get lax, though.” She shook her head. “I thought this was over.”

  Brandt studied her a moment. The skin around her eyes was drawn tight, pale. She’d been holed up in this house like a trapped rabbit. She needed to get out, get some space, some air, and feel like someone who could defend herself.

  Sitting here at home, she had to feel like bait.

  If he took her to Shifter Town Enforcement, she’d be safer there for the next several hours than anywhere else, and just maybe she’d lose that hunted edge to her eyes. Hell, it was worth a shot.

  “Do you want to go now?” He tilted his head for the door and saw the flash of relief shoot through her. She’d expected a refusal, expected to have to fight for it.

  Timber jerked her head in a small nod. “Please.”

  “Then let’s go.” She started for the door when he caught her arm. This time she didn’t flinch. Already, some small ounce of confidence was bleeding back into her. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “You’ve done well up to now, Brandt, making sure you don’t make statements or promises you can’t keep. Please don’t—”

  He couldn’t help but smile. She’d seen that, understood his hesitancy. “This isn’t a promise of protection. I’m telling you, you’re going to be okay. You beat him once, you can do it again. And I know you don’t want to have to do it again. I know that. But the woman you are right now, right here, is ten times the woman you were when he first grabbed you.”

  “You didn’t know me then.”

  “I’m getting to know you now. And the woman standing in front of me will fight harder and longer than the woman you were four years ago. Sometimes fear isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it makes us stronger.”

  Her gaze met his, her eyes glinting with tears. “Are you ever scared?”

  “Yeah.”

  “About what?”

  Brandt let her arm go. There were a thousand things he could say, little white lies that were tempting, just to make her feel better. But she’d been nothing but honest with him, so she deserved nothing less in return.

  Brandt glanced at the window. He could see the bush where Charles Wolfe had hidden and watched this afternoon. Wolfe had been so damn close to her. “Right now? I’m scared that no matter how hard I try, no matter how badly I want to keep it from happening, he’s going to get to you before I can stop him.” Brandt forced himself to look back at her, his gaze meeting hers. “I’m worried that, no matter how much I want to keep you safe, how much I want all of Shifter Town Enforcement to have your back, that he’s going to beat us all, and that, in the end, it’s really going to be up to you to save yourself.”

  He watched her throat squeeze as she swallowed. “I’m scared of that too.”

  He didn’t tell her he was terrified that she’d die if Wolfe caught her this time. And not just her, but others, too. How many were going to die before he caught this bastard? How many families would he have to talk to?

  Instinct, the same kind that motivated his inner canine, demanded he protect those around him. It was a desire imprinted in his bones, into every fiber in his body, into his soul. It was the reason he’d been driven for as long as he could remember to be the alpha, to be the one to make sure everyone around him was safe. But dominance, power, it all came with a price.

  And the price of failure could weigh heavier than anything else.

  “Timber,” Brandt said softly, and he waited for some of the fear to ebb from her face. “I don’t give up.”

  “Nor does Charles.”

  Brandt shook his head and stepped closer. The heat of her skin warmed his as he leaned into her. He didn’t want her able to look away, not right now. “I don’t care about him. What I need to know is, are you going to give up?”

  Strength flooded back into her then. There was an edge of steel to her eyes, a hardened line in her jaw, a tension in her shoulders. “No,” she whispered, and that one word came with all the determination anyone could wish for.

  Brandt couldn’t help it, then. He ran his knuckles along her cheek. Her skin was soft, but he could feel the cord of muscle in her jaw, still locked and tense. “Then you’re going to be okay.”

  And, God, he hoped he wasn’t lying.

  “And know this,” he continued. “If he does get you out from under our protection, you won’t be alone, because I’ll still be fighting to get to you.”

  The corners of her mouth edged up in a small smile. “I’ll hold you to that.”

  “Good.”

  Because that was one thing he could guarantee. He wouldn’t leave her to fend for herself like the Hounds before him. That was one faith she could cling to. That, even if every other thing they feared came to pass, at least this time there was someone fully committed to getting her back.

  Chapter Eleven

  Timber thrashed awake, her legs tangled in sweat-stained sheets, a scream lodged in her throat. She fisted her hands against her pillowcase and bit down on the fluff, refusing to scream. Just a dream. It was just a fucking dream. And she was so tired of having them. She closed her eyes, ignoring the wet streak as a tear slipped down her cheek.

  She couldn’t keep doin
g this.

  Couldn’t keep hiding. She felt like a kicked pup, constantly feeling sorry for herself, whimpering in the corner. Today had been a start, at least. She flexed her hands, remembering the feel of metal against her palms, the kick of the gun when it went off. The stink of gunpowder. Brandt had made her wear earmuffs, but it’d done little to muffle the noise.

  Timber gusted out a long breath. She’d ripped that target to shreds, until there was nothing but a gaping hole in the silhouette’s chest. For the first time in a long time, she’d felt powerful. Strong. Unbeatable. She’d never been much of a gun person. She could shift into a wolf, had fangs and claws that could tear a person apart. But at the Enforcement’s shooting range, she’d felt more powerful than she could have imagined.

  Yeah, it was a start. No more letting nightmares ruin her life. She’d locked herself in solitude. Oh, sure, she’d helped people. But Bear Creek had never been a permanent pack. The women had come and gone throughout the years, the pack just a stepping stone to a different life. She hadn’t had a friend, someone constant in years.

  Not until Brandt.

  Her fingertips brushed her cheek, and she could almost feel his rough knuckles skimming along her skin. He made her want to have someone in her life again, made her want to be touched. To laugh and smile and have someone to share new memories with. Her breast tingled as she remembered how close he’d gotten, his breath against her lips, when he’d made her that promise.

  Her fingers slid to her lips, recalling his kiss, and heat pooled between her thighs. She wanted to kiss him again. Timber leaned back in her bed with a groan. And now she definitely wasn’t going to sleep. At least this time it wasn’t because of the nightmares.

  With a sigh, she shoved off the bed. Slamming her feet into her slippers, she made her way down the stairs. Brandt was sprawled out on her couch. A loose sheet hung around his hips, his bare feet sticking out one end.

  It was the other end that made her mouth dry.