Where was she?
Memories came flooding back. Being chased. Driving. Running out of gas. Fleeing through an unfamiliar forest.
Mud and snow.
Bryce.
Pain.
Gunfire.
She jerked into full consciousness, and the instinctive tightening of her muscles made her gasp at the sudden rush of pain. Damn it, everything hurt.
She opened her eyes and found herself blinking up at four strange faces. Three large men loomed above her, while a woman hovered a few feet below them. It took a second for her fuzzy brain to put together the fact that she was lying on someone’s sofa with three male shifters staring down at her and a female perched on the edge of a coffee table at her left. Instinct made her wary, but she had to admit it beat waking up to find herself surrounded by Bryce and his Merry Morons.
She tried to shift herself a bit more upright but winced and quickly abandoned the idea. Instead, she tried a tentative smile. “Um, hi?”
“Hey there.” The woman leaned forward, her smile casual, utterly genuine, and naturally kind. “Welcome back to the land of the living. How are you feeling?”
Renny focused on her. Compared with the wall of males ringing them, the woman looked tiny. It was hard to tell while she was sitting, but she likely fell somewhere around dead average in height, maybe five four, and built with the kind of softly curved muscles common to cheerleaders and college softball players. The woman had dark blondish hair with a few intriguing shades of red and brown streaking through it. She looked normal and safe and genuinely concerned about Renny’s condition.
“I’m good. I mean, I’m sore,” Renny corrected herself, “and I feel like I got rolled around inside a cement truck full of rusty nails for a few hours, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
One hand instinctively went to her side where a wound continued to ache and burn. She might have worried about it more if she hadn’t noticed just then that she seemed to be stark naked and covered by nothing more than a cotton blanket. She flushed and drew it a little higher around her shoulders. Shifters might not have a lot of hang-ups about nudity, but there was getting naked for a few seconds before and after changing shapes, and then there was lying naked on an unfamiliar sofa in front of three strange men.
The woman, who smelled feline to Renny, noticed the movement and grinned, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she said, “You will be fine. I promise. I’m an EMT, and I gave you a check before I bandaged you up. You’re suffering from some signs of exhaustion—the unconsciousness being one of them—and those wounds are going to take a few days to completely heal, but I don’t think there will be any permanent damage. Just take it easy for a day or two, and you should be back to normal before you know it.”
Renny resisted commenting that “normal” would take a bit more work for her than for the average wolf about town. “Thanks. I really am grateful for the help. I owe you one.”
The woman shook her head. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”
“Renny. Renny Landry.” Deciding that waving would upset her blanket coverage, she just waggled her fingers above the hem in an abbreviated greeting. “And even so, I do owe you.” She glanced around at the other figures in the room until her gaze hit on the only one who looked vaguely familiar. “And you. You’re the one who drove off Bryce and the others. Thank you. You saved my life.”
The man standing at the far end of the sofa had his legs braced wide and his broad shoulders back. Put him in an eye patch and a billowing shirt and she’d have said the man carried himself like a pirate. He had his large hands cupped around a heavy mug of what smelled like coffee and held the drink low against a belly that looked intriguingly firm and sculpted.
Overall, he exuded an attitude so confident and masculine that Renny wondered if it had to shave by the end of the day. Everything about this man screamed alpha to her, and his scent clearly identified him as the wolf who lived in this house.
He had dark hair cut close around the sides but left a little longer on top. Dark sideburns framed blade-sharp cheekbones and only emphasized the dark stubble covering his chin. Either he did have to shave twice a day, or he hadn’t bothered with a razor in at least a week.
His skin had a dusky quality she associated with time outdoors. Not sunbathing or barbecuing, but living and working in the open air. Either that, or the Goddess had just blessed him with a complexion like golden honey.
His eyes looked dark, but she couldn’t quite make out the color across the distance separating them. Or maybe she was just distracted by all the other colors he sported. Despite the chill she could feel around the edges of her blanket, the wolf wore a shirt with no arms, revealing the two full-sleeve tattoos decorating him from shoulders to wrists.
Elaborate, intricate, and boldly beautiful, the shades of red and green and blue and purple twined across the sleek, strong muscles of an athlete. The body art and the chiseled build gave him the look of a rock star or a biker. Definitely the kind of man who could hold his own in a fight. The scar cutting across his forehead and bisecting his left eyebrow didn’t exactly hurt that impression, either.
He watched her with those dark eyes, his expression blank but his gaze intense, until Renny wanted to squirm. She realized she’d been staring for at least a minute or two and felt heat surge into her cheeks.
“Um, anyway, I’m grateful.” She stumbled over the words and cursed her own tongue for working against her. When the wolf said nothing, she glanced nervously to the other two men in the room.
The one to the wolf’s left stood a little over six feet tall and held himself with the kind of lazy, coiled tension of a cat shifter. A few sniffs made her think he might be a mountain lion in his other shape. It would make sense with the tawny gold of his skin and the black-streaked sandy shade of his hair. His eyes looked like the dark green of tree moss, and his chiseled features bore the lines of a man who smiled often. He wasn’t smiling now, though. He watched Renny with a carefully neutral expression and a feline intensity.
Standing between the mountain lion and the other woman in the room, the largest of the males didn’t bother keeping his expression neutral. He stared down at Renny with open curiosity edging toward suspicion. The dark navy of his sheriff’s uniform might explain that, and the striking resemblance between his features and the EMT’s added weight to the idea that this man was a cop to his bones—protective and inclined toward caution around strangers.
Probably especially around strangers who’d been hunted by other shifters.
He had short hair in an interesting mix of shades from ashy blond to copper gold to chocolaty brown all tumbled together. He looked like the kind of man who cut it to keep it under control, but the strategy failed him. It stood up in tousled disarray, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, or as if he’d rolled out of bed without so much as looking near a comb. It softened the impression of a granite jaw and furrowed brow. Well, maybe a little. His scent told her she could subtract the mountain from his shifter identity. This was a lion-lion, if she’d ever smelled one.
“I’m Molly Buchanan,” the female said, shooting the male beside her a pointed glance. “And we were glad to help. Do you mind me asking what happened, though? Mick said you were chased onto his property by coyotes.”
Renny stole a glance at the wolf, whose expression didn’t change. He continued to brood in her general direction. “Yeah, it’s kind of a long story.”
“Like Molly said, you’ll need a couple of days to heal.” The mountain lion gave her a look that expressed both humor and insistence. He’d get the story from her one way or another, but he was willing to be entertained by it. Or so Renny hoped. “My name’s John Jaeger, by the way. You can consider me all ears.”
The lion scowled at his compatriot and turned a stern face to Renny. “What the mayor means, is that you were attacked within the jurisdiction of the town, so we need to know if there’s any continuing threat from the folks who did this to you.”
Renny felt her pulse jump. “The mayor? Of where?”
“Alpha, Washington.”
“Oh, wow,” she breathed. “I can’t believe I made it.”
“Made it?” The deputy stiffened at her words. “You mean you were heading to Alpha when you were attacked?”
Renny clutched her blanket and shifted into more of a seated position, wincing when the movement pulled at her wounds. “I was headed to town when my car ran out of gas. I knew the coyotes were following me, so I took off into the woods hoping to lose them. I hoped I was still going in the right direction on foot, but I couldn’t be a hundred percent certain. And I was a little preoccupied.”
“Why were they following you?” he demanded in a harsh tone.
“Zeke, quit it,” Molly scolded. “Does it matter why? They chased her through the woods and seriously injured her. Can you think of a reason why she’d deserve something like that?”
“Maybe she committed some kind of crime against their pack,” the lion grumbled, but he looked uncomfortable as he said it. Most shifter communities had their own form of justice, and hunting parties did occasionally pursue fugitives who tried to escape it. But several coyotes against a lone female wolf didn’t paint a very pretty picture.
“Maybe you’re an idiot,” Molly shot back. “Forgive my brother, Renny. Sometimes I think he wears that uniform a little too tight.”
Renny appreciated the lioness’s reassurance, but she understood where the man was coming from. “No, it’s okay. He’s with law enforcement, so he’s responsible for people’s safety around here. The mayor, too. They have a right to ask if I’m a danger to their community.” She looked both men in the eyes. “I’m not, though. I promise. The coyotes who attacked me were working for someone else. Their alpha. He’s … well, he’s been … following me.”
“Following you? Following you where?”
Renny laughed. It had become a habit, because if she didn’t laugh, she’d have to scream, and that scared people. “Everywhere. To work. From work. To and from the store, the doctor’s office, the post office, friends’ houses. Everywhere. I quit my job, I left town. Hell, I left the state, and he just sent his pals after me.”
Molly frowned. “That’s not being followed, Renny; that’s being stalked.”
Mick had to grab his wolf by the scruff to keep it from jumping straight out of his skin. It wanted to feel some coyote throat under its teeth, and it wanted to start now. The she-wolf had a stalker?
Fuck. That.
He heard a click and looked down to see his own claws tapping the side of his coffee mug. He set it down before he cracked it and willed his human nails back.
“Whoa.” Zeke held up a hand. “That’s a serious accusation, Moll. You might not want to put words into Ms. Landry’s mouth.”
The she-wolf shook her head. “She isn’t. I’ve used the term myself. It fits.”
“Women are usually stalked by men they’ve had relationships with in the past. Is this guy an ex of yours?”
Mick’s wolf rumbled its displeasure.
“Absolutely not.” Her mouth firmed as she said it, her eyes flashing. “I never wanted anything to do with him, but right from the beginning, he refused to take no for an answer.”
“Hey, guys, hang on a minute, would you?” Molly pushed to her feet and still had to look up to glare at the men. “You’re questioning Renny like she’s suspected of something while she’s sitting here wounded, naked, and probably in desperate need of some Advil and a glass of water. Can you maybe give her a break and, I don’t know, a T-shirt or something, before you make with the Inquisition routine?”
Immediately—and predictably—three pairs of male eyes focused all their attention on the woman in question. Since Mick’s were one of them, he understood the instinctive response to the possibility of spotting something yummy, but his wolf failed to sympathize. It suggested he shift and let it eat the eyeballs of the other men before they got a peek.
He channeled the urge into motion. “I’ll get her something to wear.”
The others continued their discussion as he stalked down the short hall to his bedroom. Thanks to his shifter hearing, he didn’t even need to strain to keep track of their words.
“That’s a start, anyway. And you.” From the way she emphasized the pronoun, the lioness could only be referring to her brother. “Go get her some water. I’ve got meds in my kit. There’s no reason she should be naked or in pain while you guys break out the rubber hoses.”
“But, Molly, we figured the interrogation light would keep her warm,” Jaeger teased. “And the waterboarding would wash the rest of that blood and dirt right off her.”
“Very funny, Mr. Mayor, but I notice you seemed perfectly happy to let my brother give Renny the third degree.”
“He was doing his job.”
Jaeger’s words overlapped with the softer tones of the she-wolf, and Mick’s wolf did not like the way their tones blended or the soft chuckle they shared when they realized they’d responded in unison. He grabbed a long-sleeved shirt from his closet and started back to the living room before they could get any cozier. Then he thought better of it and turned back to add a comfortable old T-shirt, a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring waist, and his thickest socks to the pile of fabric.
Layers. Layers would keep her (covered) warm.
He returned to the other room to find the wolf accepting some tablets and a drink from Molly’s hands.
“Here.” He thrust the clothing toward her. “You can change in the bathroom. First door on the right.”
She looked up, and for the first time he got a good look at her eyes. They were wide and soft and the color of green tea, a pale shade with almost tawny undertones. Beth’s eyes had been brown, like sweet milk chocolate.
Molly intercepted the clothing and stepped protectively toward the injured woman. “Come on. I’ll help you up. You just hang on to the blanket. I’ll give you some privacy, but I’ll be right outside the door if you need me, okay?”
Mick’s wolf huffed a reluctant approval in his head. It would prefer to be the one picking their mate up off the sofa, but at least it wasn’t one of the males trying to touch her—
Shit.
He winced and smacked the animal back. They didn’t have a mate. Not anymore. Beth was dead.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Renny protested as she leaned on the other woman and made her slow, stiff way toward the bathroom.
“And I’m sure that I’m the EMT here. You’re injured, and you were unconscious for almost an hour. I don’t take chances with my patients.”
When the door closed behind her, sealing Renny in the bathroom alone, Zeke turned toward the others and kept his voice low. “If what she says is true, I doubt tonight will be the end of it. Stalkers don’t give up easily, especially not ones willing to follow their victims across state lines and involve proxies in the stalking behavior. That’s some serious shit.”
“Agreed.” Jaeger angled his body slightly away from the deputy, the move subtle but deliberate. It didn’t take more than a glance back at Molly’s crossed arms and fierce scowl in her brother’s direction to explain it. Or for Mick to follow the mayor’s example out of the direct line of fire between the siblings.
“Then you realize that by coming here, that girl has brought her problems right onto our doorstep,” Zeke said. He wore a grim look, the one Mick called his cop face. “If she stays in Alpha, they could spill over onto our residents.”
Jaeger didn’t look much happier than Zeke, but he shrugged. “And what’s the alternative? We get her gas tank filled up and send her on her way? Tell ourselves it’s not our problem? I can’t do that, and I doubt you could, either.”
“What if someone else gets hurt?”
“Then we have twice as many reasons to make it clear to some coyotes that just because Alpha takes in shifters with problems doesn’t mean that assholes get a free pass,” Jaeger said. “I’m not going to turn the girl away.”
>
Zeke frowned. “I’m not saying we shove her out the door with our boots on her ass. I’m just saying we need to know more about her situation before we commit ourselves to getting in any deeper.”
“Zee, we’re in. Deal with it.”
Mick’s wolf agreed, both with protecting the female and with kicking coyote ass. It thought the mayor had the right idea.
The click of the door opening drew his attention, and he watched as Renny emerged from the bathroom with the blanket draped over her arm and the rest of her fully covered. He experienced a surge of satisfaction at seeing her in his clothing, as huge as it was on her. The sight made his possessive wolf nearly purr like a house cat. It wanted to get closer to see if she smelled like them now, if the lingering scent of their clean laundry would be enough to mark her as theirs.
Fuck. Not ours. She’s not ours, he snarled.
His wolf ignored him.
She padded back toward the living room, her sock-clad feet silent on the wooden floors. “Thank you again,” she said, laying the blanket down over the arm of the sofa. “I have a feeling I’m going to keep saying that a lot tonight, but I mean it every time.”
Mick managed a curt nod while his wolf kept trying to sniff her. It wasn’t even being discreet about it, the fucker.
“You’re very welcome,” Jaeger said, giving him an odd look, but stepping naturally into the role of gracious host. “Why don’t you sit down, Ms. Landry. You’ve been through a lot tonight. And, I suspect, for well before that.”
Renny sank down onto the edge of the sofa and rubbed her hands over her face. It looked pale and bruised, but clean, as if she’d washed up before she dressed. She’d also done something to tie her disheveled hair back from her face, and when she turned her head to look around the room he thought he saw a strand of unwaxed dental floss wrapped around the auburn strands.
Baby, I'm Howling for You Page 3
