by Jane Godman
“This is David Roth.”
Sebastian jerked his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I was just getting some food.”
He left Samson and Valetta to their business discussion and joined Cindy at the counter in the kitchen. Although his strength was returning and he was feeling less pain from his injury, he still tired easily. As he took a seat, he grinned ruefully at Cindy.
“You wore me out.”
She gave a little gasp. “I wore you out?” She seemed to have more to say on the subject, but her attention was caught by something beyond him. A frown descended on her features as she looked out of the window. “That’s strange. Today isn’t the gardener’s day.”
Sebastian turned his head and followed her gaze. A man was working in the garden. He was too far away for them to make out his features, but, as he looked out of the window, a feeling of discomfort seized Sebastian. He turned back to Cindy and saw the same feeling reflected in her eyes.
They both got to their feet at the same time and were moving toward the other room when Valetta’s scream rang out.
* * *
Cindy’s mind was working overtime as she scrabbled in her pocket for her cell phone and fired off a message to Vigo. If Chastel was in the house, who was in the yard? She had a horrible feeling she could guess the answer. If Fenrir had managed to find a way to occupy Chastel’s body, wasn’t there a chance he could do it with someone else? She hoped the gardener had got his days wrong. But she had a horrible feeling the god of destruction might be out there raking the leaves off the lawn.
With Sebastian injured, there were only two members of the brotherhood in the house. If I can be classed as a full-fledged member? Two of us, plus Valetta, against a trickster bounty hunter and a werewolf god who wants to destroy the world. I don’t like those odds.
As they reached the family room, the scene that greeted them confirmed her worst fears. There was no sign of David Roth. Chastel, his throat horribly mutilated, was holding Valetta around the waist while he pressed a knife up under her chin. A thin trickle of blood ran down her neck.
“He was disguised as the Realtor.” Samson’s expression was tortured.
“Even if I can’t kill her, I can mess up her pretty face.” Chastel’s lips drew back in a smile. “Or give her to my friend Fenrir to play with. He hasn’t had a female for centuries. He might break her in two in his excitement.”
“Let her go, Chastel. Your fight is with the brotherhood not Valetta.” Sebastian spoke from the doorway.
“Oh, the great hero arrives. The guy who gave me these scars.” Chastel pressed the knife deeper and Valetta flinched. “But my fight is with her. You know it as well as I do. She is Samson’s protector. He can only kill me when she is around to take care of him.”
His face shimmered as if Fenrir was trying to break through once more and take over his body. Cindy looked at Sebastian in confusion. If Fenrir was here, attempting to control Chastel, who was in the garden? Sebastian gave a slight shrug, indicating that he understood what she was asking but that he didn’t have the answer.
“If you hurt her . . .” Helplessness made Samson’s voice hoarse with rage and pain.
“Of course I’m going to hurt her.” It was Fenrir who spoke. The green-gold light taking over Chastel’s eyes. “And I’m going to make you watch.”
“No. You won’t.” The man who spoke walked in through the French window that led from the garden. “Let her go.”
“Gunnar?”
Sebastian turned to look at the man who, until recently, had led the brotherhood for centuries. Although they knew him as Gunnar, he was Tyr, the god of honor and justice. He was also the only person who had ever been able to tame Fenrir. Gunnar had cared for Fenrir throughout his early life. He took the young werewolf and raised him as his son, attempting to tame his wild passions and teach him how to love. But Fenrir grew beyond all expectations and his capacity for destruction raged out of control. When the gods decided to imprison him, Gunnar was the only one Fenrir trusted. To prove to Fenrir that the he would come to no harm, Gunnar had placed his hand in Fenrir’s mouth as he was chained. In retaliation for breaking his trust, Fenrir had bitten off Gunnar’s right hand.
Despite that devastating incident, Gunnar was the only person who still retained any control over Fenrir. Even the goddess Angrboda, Fenrir’s mother and Gunnar’s lover, could not contain her son’s wildness.
Gunnar spared a moment to smile at his friends. “Some rumors reached us at Jotunheim. Even though Fenrir was still chained, Angrboda was getting telepathic messages that troubled her. The goddess thought you might need some help.”
Sebastian choked back a laugh. “The goddess was right.”
“You.” Even though Fenrir glared at Gunnar, he let go of Valetta. “Always you.”
“It’s time to go home.” Gunnar spoke to Fenrir with a gentleness that surprised Cindy.
Fenrir gave a howl of fury, but it seemed he was powerless to resist Gunnar’s steady gaze, Gradually, his protests subsided until they became whimpers. Slowly, the werewolf’s features faded and Chastel was left alone. His expression was bewildered.
“What happened?” He turned to Gunnar. “Why are you here?”
“I came to make sure you couldn’t hide behind Fenrir. His spirit has rejoined his body back in his cell.” Gunnar turned to Samson. “Don’t you have something you need to do?”
“Yes.” Samson moved purposefully toward Chastel. “And it’s long overdue.”
Chastel dashed toward the door. Samson was too quick for him. Within seconds, he had wrapped a muscular arm around Chastel’s neck from behind, lifting him so his feet dangled inches from the floor.
“Chastel still has the knife.” Cindy cast an anguished look around. She knew the blade wasn’t silver. There was no telltale smell. It meant Chastel couldn’t kill Samson, but he could damage him. Chastel would know that. He would know exactly how to leave his enemy horribly maimed . . .
Before Cindy could move, Valetta had closed the distance between them. As Chastel raised the knife and swung it in an arc to bring it down into Samson’s thigh, Valetta blocked the movement with her own body.
“He can’t use invisibility as a shield while I am here.”
Cindy cried out as the knife plunged deep into Valetta’s shoulder and she crumpled to the floor.
Samson moved fast. With one quick jerk, and a sickening crunching sound, the bounty hunter’s neck snapped. Samson dropped his body to the floor and stooped to take Valetta into his arms.
“We have to do something” Valetta’s injury was bleeding badly. Cindy didn’t see how she could recover from such a devastating wound.
“She is a Shadow Wolf,” Sebastian said. “Watch.”
Samson smoothed Valetta’s hair back from her brow and, after a few seconds, she sighed and opened her eyes. Pressing a hand to her injured shoulder, she winced. “Ouch.”
“Ouch?” Cindy was incredulous. “You’ve just been stabbed.”
Valetta smiled. “I heal fast.”
“Is that it?” Cindy asked as she looked down at Chastel’s body. “Is this really the end of Jean Chastel?”
Gunnar knelt beside the corpse. “It is. This time it’s really him. And Fenrir has returned to his cell.”
“Do I sense a ‘for now’?” Sebastian asked.
“Who can tell with Fenrir?” Gunnar said. “But he is weaker without Chastel.”
“What will we do with our time now we no longer have to look over our shoulders for Chastel?” Cindy wondered.
Sebastian pressed his lips to hers. “With you at my side for the rest of my life, I’ll find plenty of things to occupy my time. And I’m going to start by showing you how much I love you.”
Epilogue
The news item was brief. The man who had publicly claimed to be Senator Hendrik Rickard had been exposed as a fake. The impostor had now disappeared and Senator Rickard’s daughter had asked for privacy at this difficult time.
Lowell switched off the TV and returned to the table where the whole group was gathered. As usual, food and alcohol were plentiful. Even though the nightmare was over, the mood was somber. This time, the fight had taken its toll on all of them.
“I think a toast is called for.” Jenny was drinking water, but she raised her glass. “With everything that’s gone on, we haven’t taken the time to congratulate Sebastian and Cindy.”
“Welcome to the werewolf world,” Samson said. “You’ve always been one of us, but now it’s official.”
Cindy rested her head on Sebastian’s shoulder as everyone joined in the congratulations. “Didn’t any of you suspect I wasn’t a werewolf when you thought I was with Hendrik? You never saw me shift and I never ate red meat.”
Valetta laughed. “We just thought you were weird.”
As they finished their meal, Gunnar spoke. “I will be returning to Jotunheim tomorrow, but there is something I need to talk about before I leave. The goddess didn’t just send me here so I could put Fenrir back in his place. She also sent me to ask you a question. A difficult one.” He raised his beer bottle to his lips. “Is it time to think the unthinkable? Is the brotherhood coming to the end of its life?”
There were shocked glances around the table at his words. That Gunnar, the man who had led them for so long, could voice those words aloud was almost the ultimate betrayal. And yet . . .
Sebastian wondered if they hadn’t all felt it in some measure over the past four and a half years. Ever since their capture of Fenrir in New York, things had been changing.
“Jenny is having a baby.” Gunnar raised his bottle in a salute to Wilder and Jenny. “Will you want to return to this life when you have a cub of your own to care for? Lowell was badly injured three years ago, and now Sebastian has come close to death. Vigo is the only one who doesn’t have a mate.”
“Thank you for that reminder.” Vigo held a hand over his heart in an attitude of mock hurt and relieved laughter broke some of the tension.
“Are you saying we’re too old?” Wilder asked.
“I’m asking if the brotherhood could be too old. It was set up centuries ago,” Gunnar said. “Times have changed. You don’t have to decide now. Think about it.”
“My worry is that, without the brotherhood, Fenrir will find a way to walk out of that cell and storm through the mortal world,” Sebastian said.
Gunnar nodded. “The goddess shares your concern. Maybe the brotherhood needs to engage in one final mission. Your task will be to destroy Fenrir once and for all.”
“I thought that wasn’t possible?” Vigo sat up straighter. “He is a god and can’t be killed.”
Gunnar smiled. “I may have found a loophole.”
About the Author
Jane Godman writes paranormal romance for Harlequin Nocturne and SMP Swerve, thrillers for Harlequin Romantic Suspense, and steamy historical romance for Samhain Publishing.
Jane lives in Cheshire, England, is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown-up children. When not writing, Jane loves to travel to European cities that are steeped in history.
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Epilogue
About the Author
Copyright Page
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
WOLF HUNTER. Copyright © 2017 by Jane Godman. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover design by Patricia Schmitt
Cover photograph: couple © Valery Bareta/Fotolia
ISBN 978-1-250-12000-7 (ebook)
First Edition: November 2017
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