Wolf Hunter

by Jane Godman

But he knew the answer to that question. He would always want her. Forever.

  * * *

  Cleaning wolf blood from the rental car had not been Sebastian’s preferred way to start the day. Driving something that looked like a special effect from a horror movie hadn’t been too bad in darkness, but he wasn’t prepared to take a chance in daylight. Explaining the gore to a highway patrol officer wouldn’t be easy, and werewolves preferred to remain under the radar of the law.

  He had left Cindy sleeping and made his way downstairs just as dawn was streaking the sky with bands of orange and gold. It wasn’t easy to pry himself away from her, partly because she murmured a protest in her sleep and flung one slender leg across his body. That wasn’t the only reason. She was just too damn tempting. With her tousled hair and warm body, it would be so easy to fit himself to her curves and stay there for the rest of the day.

  It had been difficult to force himself out of bed, but he had done it because needed to get the car cleaned. He planned on going for a run as a reward once the job was done. And he needed some thinking time. Pulling on T-shirt, sweatpants, and sneakers borrowed from Lowell’s stash of supplies, he had made his way downstairs and out into the crisp morning air.

  Now the car was gleaming, he had worked up a sweat, and only one thought had occupied his mind the whole time.

  Cindy.

  Four years ago, when he had first seen her, he had known she was his mate. He had been trying to deny it ever since. Had been in his own special hell as he tried to ignore his feelings for her. Four long, lonely years. Every time he had seen her, it had been torture. Every time he had thought about her—and he thought about her a lot—he had tried to push it aside. When he dreamed of her, he told himself it was a betrayal of his friendship with Hendrik. Yeah, hell about summed it up.

  Sebastian never did things the easy way. If there was a smooth path and a difficult one, he always ignored them both and sought an even tougher route. He knew he had been shaped by his experiences, things that had happened in his life that he wanted to keep buried. Part of him had assumed that the intense attraction he felt for Cindy was another manifestation of that. Fall for the girl you can’t have. That would be so typical of him. While he was suffering all this angst about Cindy, he couldn’t go ahead and develop a normal relationship with someone else. Maybe, just maybe, it was all part of something deeper. Could it possibly be that he didn’t feel he was worthy of love? He snorted. He wasn’t worthy of anything good. He had convinced himself of that a long time ago.

  Even though the images were uncomfortable, he forced himself to confront the past. Forced himself to dredge up the reign of terror that had ripped his hometown apart. Images of murder, fear, and recrimination came back to him now as though it was yesterday instead of centuries ago. Guilt—cold, hard, and unforgiving—slapped him in the face.

  I could have stopped it. If I had, they wouldn’t have died.

  Sebastian knew why he kept moving from one place to another. Restlessness? Try running away. But the past would always be with him. A change of scene just kept the memories at bay for a while.

  What happened now? Now he knew his feelings for Cindy were real? His heart wasn’t playing tricks on him. It wasn’t a diversionary tactic to stop him falling for someone else. She was his mate and he couldn’t walk away from this. It would kill him to try.

  How could he expect her to share his life? Cindy knew what being a werewolf’s mate entailed. She had lived alongside a group of werewolves for the last four years. She wasn’t squeamish about the logistics. If they were to have a future together, she would have to take Sebastian’s bite. It sounded scary from a human perspective. From a werewolf point of view, it was erotic as hell.

  But there was more to Sebastian than his wolfness. His past experiences had damaged him, possibly beyond repair. He had never opened up to anyone about what had gone on all those years ago. Could he tell Cindy? There was only one answer to that. He couldn’t ask her to share his life and not tell her the truth about what he was. It had shaped his life ever since. Even though telling her would be like ripping his own heart out. Because that warm look in her eyes would disappear. In its place, he would see contempt and pity.

  And then it would be time to walk away for good.

  Chapter Seven

  Cindy thought Sebastian seemed subdued as he drove the newly cleaned rental car toward Hendrik’s house, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the feeling was coming from. Since Madden was riding with them, she could hardly broach the topic. Samson was following in his car with Valetta, who wanted to pick up any mail that may have been delivered to her father’s house about the sale of his property.

  Sebastian was outlining Cindy’s theory to Madden. “Chastel finds our weakness and pushes it. He’s trying to bring down the brotherhood from within. After we fought together at Jotunheim, we didn’t get together for four hundred years, yet the last few years have been nonstop action for us.”

  “That’s true, but there is one exception to that.” Madden’s measured tones came from the backseat. “Think back to our first case together in recent years. You’re right that we hadn’t been together for four hundred years. Then, four and a half years ago, we were called together again to return Odessa’s father, Santin the Siberian, to the prison cell from which he had escaped. That turned into a fight against the mighty werewolf god Fenrir.” Emotion vibrated through his voice as he said that name. It was always the same. Cindy had heard it so often, she had become conditioned to feel the same way. Fenrir. The name aroused fear, hatred, and contempt. “Wilder led that mission, and it tested him exactly the way you have just described, almost causing him to leave the brotherhood. Yet here was no suggestion that Chastel was involved.”

  Sebastian lapsed into silence. Although Cindy had heard the brotherhood talk about the fight against Fenrir, it had happened before she started working for Hendrik. All she knew was that Fenrir, an evil werewolf god and son of the goddess Angrboda—the one the brotherhood called Mother of All Werewolves—had escaped from captivity and tried to bring about the downfall of all mankind. The brotherhood had succeeded in capturing him and returning him to his dungeon beneath the mystical palace of Jotunheim. Following that event, the brotherhood had been kept busy, with one mission after another, often only months apart.

  Gods, goddesses, and mystical palaces were outside the sphere of Cindy’s experience and she would have been happy to leave them there. But she had met Angrboda, a surprisingly ungoddesslike figure. She supposed if she was going to accept the existence of werewolves, she may as well open her mind to other paranormal beings. Having spent the night wrapped in the arms of a werewolf, she couldn’t doubt their existence even if she tried. The thought made her shiver with remembered pleasure.

  “Doesn’t it strike you as odd, that, ever since we put Fenrir back in his cell, we’ve been working almost nonstop?” Sebastian asked.

  Although she had her back to Madden, Cindy could hear the frown in his next words. “What do you mean?”

  “Just thinking out loud. But it’s quite a coincidence that Chastel emerged with so much force after Fenrir escaped and had a little vacation in the human world, isn’t it?” Sebastian spoke slowly, as though each word weighed heavily with him.

  Madden was silent for a moment or two. “Oh, fuck.”

  “That’s what I was just thinking.”

  Although she wasn’t sure what they were talking about, Cindy didn’t like the note of dread in their voices. “Could someone please explain what you mean?” Although she asked the question, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  “We’re wondering if Fenrir and Chastel may have formed an alliance while Fenrir was on the loose,” Madden said.

  “How long did Fenrir spend out of his prison?” Cindy asked. “Did he have time to start forming the sort of bonds you’re talking about?”

  “Unfortunately, he did. Fenrir was gone for several months before anyone knew he had escaped
,” Sebastian explained. “He was living in the mortal world, posing as a cult leader known as Van Marsh. There was plenty of time to for him to get to know Chastel and for them to hatch a plan together,” Sebastian explained. “I wonder if Fenrir somehow enhanced Chastel’s powers? Chastel has been a werewolf bounty hunter for centuries, but he’s only become really powerful in the last four and a half years. Something must have triggered his newfound confidence.”

  “I’ll call Lowell.” Madden already had his cell phone out. Cindy knew he was depending on Lowell’s knowledge of werewolf history to help them piece together what may have happened between Fenrir and Chastel. “He can meet us at Hendrik’s place.”

  “Tell him to bring the rest of the team.” Sebastian was taking charge. It was how the brotherhood worked. The person with the most knowledge of the current mission stepped up and took command. “Everyone needs to hear this . . . sooner rather than later. If Fenrir is involved, it alters everything.”

  “If Fenrir is involved, the whole fucking world is turned on its head,” Madden said. “If Chastel’s best friend is the great werewolf god of destruction, everything we thought we knew about him just got chewed up and spat out.”

  Cindy was struggling with some of the things they were saying. “If Fenrir is a werewolf himself, why would he form an alliance with Chastel, a bounty hunter who has sworn to destroy all werewolves?”

  “Fenrir is destruction incarnate. He was chained and imprisoned by the gods because his hatred of the human race led him to declare war on all mortals. Fenrir swore he would one day destroy the world. He will do it any way he can and use any method he can. If that means working with a trickster like Chastel, he wouldn’t hesitate. And Chastel? He’d sign a pact with the devil himself if he thought he could bring down the Arctic werewolves.” Sebastian turned his eyes away from the road briefly to look at her. “Time means nothing to Fenrir. He has been imprisoned for centuries, and he’ll wait forever, if that’s what it takes, to achieve his goal.”

  Cindy swallowed the sudden obstruction in her throat. “It’s a horrible thought. Knowing that there is a powerful god, lying chained in a prison cell, whose only thought is how to bring about the end of the world.”

  “That’s Fenrir for you.”

  They had reached Hendrik’s house now and Cindy watched in apprehension as the gates opened. The beautiful mansion that had been her home for the last four years suddenly felt unfamiliar. What would she find when she got inside? Would the mystery watcher have tired of the game, or would he be waiting to continue where he had left off?

  Her body was taking her on an insistent roller-coaster ride of emotions that morning. From the high of waking up after the night with Sebastian, she was now plummeting into new depths. Her thoughts splintered wildly, the strong feeling of doom that had taken hold of her mind manifesting itself in a series of irrational thoughts as she stepped from the car and looked up at the house.

  It’s Wednesday, the gardener will be here later.

  I really should do something about getting the windows cleaned.

  My invisible watcher could have been sent by a werewolf god who wants to destroy the world.

  Just as her knees began to tremble, Sebastian came around to her side of the car and caught hold of her hand. “Okay?”

  Cindy took a moment to consider the question. His slightly callused fingers were warm on hers. His golden eyes probed her face, the light in their depths telling her everything she needed to know about his feelings.

  She nodded. “I am now.”

  * * *

  Cindy went in search of the card the two cops who had returned Hendrik’s car had given her while Valetta looked through her mail. Sebastian and Madden filled Samson in on their new theory about the links between Chastel and Fenrir.

  Samson listened with a combination of rage and awe on his face. “Those two fuckers together? It’s like the combined destructive force of every nuclear weapon on the planet.”

  “The more I think about it, the more I believe it,” Madden said. “There are too many similarities in their style. Look at the way they both use mind control as a weapon.”

  Mind control? Sebastian looked up sharply, the words triggering another connection. His conversation with Odessa about Chadwick and Fenk, the gaming geeks behind Byte Me, came back to him. The story was that Chadwick and Fenk were using their gaming channel as a tool to brainwash their followers. Was he seeing coincidences where none existed, or was there a link? He decided not to mention it. Yet. It could be paranoia kicking in. He knew from experience that thinking about Fenrir or Chastel individually for too long could do that. Put the two of them together and who knew what could happen? If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up believing the werewolf god of destruction and the evil bounty hunter were hiding around every corner.

  “And let’s not forget the trickery.” Samson’s expression was beginning to resemble a thundercloud. “Fenrir is the son of the trickster god, Loki. He’s always considered himself a funny guy. Now we’ve got Chastel, who thinks he’s the world’s greatest gift to comedy.”

  “We need Lowell here to answer this question, but I wonder if Chastel always thought that?” Sebastian asked. “He’s been killing wolves for centuries. Normal wolves and werewolves. Did he always see himself as a joker? If that’s a new development, it’s further proof of a link between them.”

  While Samson made coffee, Sebastian went to check on Cindy. He was worried about the expression he’d seen in her eyes when they’d pulled up outside. As a werewolf, he’d seen genuine terror enough times in his life to know what it looked like. Up until now, Cindy had coped well with everything that was going on. But he’d seen the truth in that brief instant. Although she’d quickly hidden it, coming back in here had terrified her.

  He found her in one of the bedrooms. He didn’t need the clues of femininity about the place to tell him this was her room. He knew it as soon as he walked through the door. His powerful sense of smell told him all he needed to know. This room smelled of Cindy. It smelled delicious.

  Cindy was kneeling on the floor, rummaging through a wicker box filled with papers.

  “I see you have the same organized approach to filing as me.”

  She looked up with a rueful smile. “I’m hopeless. I keep telling myself I’ll sort my paperwork out one day. But I never get around to it.”

  “Can I help?” He knelt beside her.

  “Oh.” She bit her lip. He could tell she was assessing whether she was prepared to allow him to go through her personal stuff. It was a pivotal moment between them. Then she smiled, and his heart did a backward somersault. “Sure. It was a white business card. Nothing fancy. It had the Fairbanks Police Department logo in one corner and then it had the names of these two detectives with their contact details.”

  She handed him a bunch of letters, and Sebastian felt torn between two conflicting emotions. First came a thrill of pleasure that she was prepared to trust him. It was swiftly followed by a feeling of despair. Trust worked both ways. He had yet to share his darkest secret with her. When he did any belief she had in him would be wiped out.

  They worked in silence, opening each piece of paper, shaking it, and checking inside envelopes. Although they didn’t speak, Sebastian didn’t feel they needed to. He had never had this before. This closeness to another person that meant quiet was comfortable. Until now, silence had always felt awkward. Something to be filled and gotten over rather than to be enjoyed. With Cindy, silence was a celebration. It wasn’t searching for the next clever thing to say.

  Now and then, they would make eye contact. Even though he knew she was still scared, her eyes told him she was happy he was there. Her smile was contagious. The silence between them affirmed everything they already knew about their feelings for each other.

  “It’s not here.” Cindy sat back on her heels with an expression of dismay when they had finally been through every piece of paper.

  “No.” Sebastian rose and went to
the window. “But it looks like the rest of the brotherhood are.” He held out a hand and helped her to her feet. “Is there anywhere else you may have put it?”

  “That day, when the two officers brought Hendrik’s car, they came in and we drank coffee in the kitchen. I was standing by the counter when one of them gave me the card.” She wrinkled her brow in an effort to concentrate. “I suppose I could have put it in one of the drawers in the kitchen, although I don’t know why I would do that. I’m being really vague about this and I don’t know why.” She gave a self-conscious laugh. “I’m not usually this much of an airhead.”

  “I know you’re not.” Sebastian couldn’t resist the temptation to draw her closer. “Which makes me wonder if there is a reason why you can’t remember it clearly.”

  “Other than the fact that I was upset because they brought back his car and it reminded me that the last time Hendrik drove it he went to meet his killer, you mean?” Cindy rested her head against his chest and it felt like having her there in his arms was the most natural thing in the world.

  “Maybe. Or possibly this whole thing with Fenrir and Chastel is making me suspicious of every damn thing. Let’s go downstairs. You can check the kitchen out for the card while I talk to the others about the latest conspiracy theory.”

  Cindy raised her head to look at him. “You don’t believe that, do you? That it’s a conspiracy theory?”

  He took her hand as they left the room. “I wish it was. But, no. I think it’s real.”

  Downstairs, Hendrik’s state-of-the-art kitchen was filled with Arctic werewolves. Samson was dispensing coffee and water and the team huddled together while Sebastian and Madden told them their theory.

  When they had finished, Wilder tilted his water bottle at Sebastian. “This will get you the permission you need from the goddess to go after Chastel.”

  “As long as she doesn’t dismiss it as paranoid rambling.”

  Wilder shook his head. “Fenrir is her son. She knows what he’s capable of.”