Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1

by N. J. Walters

  “Gwen, stop the car.”

  Oh God, Jacque was on the roof. Not that she’d really had any doubt who it was. How the hell had he gotten there?

  “He’s a werewolf, stupid. He probably has all kinds of tricks,” she muttered.

  “More than you know,” came the wry male reply. He wasn’t exactly yelling, but it was close.

  Shit, he could hear her. Perspiration trickled down her temple and into the corner of her eye. She blinked to clear her vision. Town was about twelve minutes away. She could make it. There was no one else on the road tonight. Damn her luck.

  “Gwen, pull over.”

  Yeah, like she’d listen to him. She jammed the gas pedal down harder. The car bucked and rattled but sped up a bit more. She prayed it didn’t sputter and die before she reached her destination. If she lived through this she was buying a new vehicle. Possibly even a truck, one with a big engine and plenty of power. She should be able to get a used one for a decent price.

  God, she was really losing it. The ribbon of asphalt snaked before her, a dark, lonely place without a glimmer of light other than her headlights. She tried to concentrate on her driving, but it wasn’t easy knowing a werewolf was perched on her roof.

  She thought she heard him laugh. But that was impossible. Only a crazy man would laugh when he was clinging to the top of a speeding vehicle.

  “Turn your head to the left.” She was determined to ignore the muffled command but found her head swiveling a bit before she could stop herself. She caught a glimpse of a dark human-like shape racing in the woods on the far side of the road. Her mind said it had to be an animal of some kind, but she suspected it might be Louis.

  A huge crash was followed by shattered shards of glass spilling into the car as the passenger side window was broken. Her foot automatically came off the gas and she threw up her arms to protect herself.

  The car began to veer off the road and Gwen grabbed for the steering wheel, cursing herself for releasing it. The tires hit loose gravel and the car was pulled to the right, before she could stop it. The vehicle took a nosedive into the ditch and she was flung forward, her face striking the edge of the steering wheel hard as she struggled to control the crash. The car tilted to one side and Gwen went with it, her body slamming against the passenger door. The impact of the car against the bottom of the ditch made the air bags deploy, but they were too late to save her.

  She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but the world was getting darker by the second. Every inch of her body ached and she tasted blood in her mouth.

  “Gwen.” Someone was yelling her name but she couldn’t answer. Had she escaped her captors only to kill herself in a crash? She would have laughed at the irony, but she couldn’t summon the energy.

  Her last coherent thought was to wonder if she’d managed to kill Jacque too. Her heart clenched at the mere thought and then there was nothing at all.

  Chapter Three

  “Is she okay?” Louis peered over his shoulder as Jacque lowered himself in through the driver’s side of the damaged vehicle. His heart skipped a beat as he reached for Gwen. She wasn’t moving and blood covered one side of her face. He could see the low rise and fall of her chest each time she took a breath and he heaved a sigh of relief when he realized her heart was still beating.

  Guilt assailed him. He hadn’t meant for her to crash but had planned to beat out the window and slide into the car beside her. He wanted to try to talk her into stopping before resorting to taking control of the vehicle. Instead, she’d let go of the wheel long enough to lose control. And she hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt.

  Every possessive bone in his body was clamoring for him to get to her. It might be crazy, but he felt as though she belonged to him, was his to protect and cherish. Yeah, he was doing a bang-up job of that so far. Could this night get any more fucked up? Oh wait, it was more fucked up than that. His brother was attracted to her as well. Seemed Mother Nature was screwing with them, making Gwendolyn Jones a potential mate for both of them.

  Jacque maneuvered his big body into the small space. He didn’t know what kind of injuries she might have, but they couldn’t exactly call the authorities, not when he still planned to kidnap her. He knew Gwen thought he was going to kill her, but he could no more harm her than he could his brother.

  Except he had. It had been an accident, but that didn’t negate the fact she was injured.

  “Well?” Louis was getting impatient and would be squeezing in beside him in a minute if he didn’t get moving.

  “Call Armand. We’re going to need help.” Jacque ignored the residue from the deployed airbags and carefully moved her arms and legs, heaving a sigh of relief when she moaned and easily shifted her neck and body. At least there didn’t seem to be a spinal injury.

  “Armand’s not far. He’ll be here in a couple of minutes.” Louis pocketed his phone before leaning in through the opening where the door had been. Jacque had torn the damn thing off in his haste to get to Gwen.

  “Good. You and he will have to pack up her belongings. Everything. Leave the furniture and dishes but take everything personal. Be sure to check for a safe or any hidey hole she might have stashed evidence.” Jacque lifted her carefully into his arms, holding her to his chest for a brief moment before passing her out to Louis. He hated to relinquish her even if it was to his brother, whom he trusted more than anyone in the world.

  “I’ve got her.” Louis eased back and Jacque quickly hoisted himself out of the car. Without hesitation, he took her back from his brother, ignoring the slight resistance in Louis’s arms, and began walking. They’d parked their truck about a mile down the road.

  Louis raised an eyebrow but didn’t question him. Being the eldest had its perks. “What about her car?” Louis asked.

  “Call Cole and Gator. Have them tow it back to our place and lock it in the shed. We need to make it look like she simply packed up and left town.” From what little Armand had been able to uncover in the short time he’d had, she just recently moved here. She probably hadn’t made too many friends.

  A black truck rumbled toward them and pulled alongside. A dark-haired man stuck his head out of the driver’s window. “Is that her?”

  Jacque glanced over at his cousin and nodded.

  Armand gave a low whistle. “What the hell happened?”

  “Car accident. She tried to run and Jacque chased her.” Louis shot him a menacing look, leaving Jacque with no doubt that his brother wasn’t pleased to be leaving Gwen in his possession.

  Louis went around to the passenger side, climbed into the truck and started giving Armand orders. Jacque could feel his cousin’s eyes on him but didn’t care. Let him look. Let him wonder. He tightened his arms around Gwen. The pack wouldn’t like him bringing in an outsider, but he didn’t give a shit. Gwendolyn Jones was his and he’d kill anyone who tried to take her from him.

  She was moving. Gwen could feel the vibration of the vehicle as it sank into her aching muscles. What had happened? And why was she having such a hard time opening her eyes. She tried to speak but all that came out of her mouth was a moan.

  “Everything is all right.”

  She could hear the concern in the deep male voice. A hand touched her shoulder and then her head. She winced when his fingers touched a sensitive spot.

  He swore long and loud, practically turning the air blue. “I’m sorry, chère. I know it hurts. We’ll be home soon and I’ll take care of you.”

  That sounded nice. Now if only she could remember who he was and what she was doing in his vehicle. She was drawing a complete blank and she didn’t like it. She licked her dry lips and forced herself to try to remember.

  She’d had a meeting tonight. Had it been with him, the man driving? Somehow she didn’t think so. She needed a visual. Not knowing who the guy was or what he looked like was driving her crazy.

  Gwen forced her eyelids open and swallowed hard when her stomach protested. Okay, so she wasn’t feeling too hot at the moment
. Her head throbbed and her entire body hurt. Had she been in an accident?

  The fog suddenly lifted from her brain, bringing her memories into sharp focus. Reality slammed home. The meeting with Hector Canton, werewolves, the LaForge brothers, her deadly flight through the night and finally Jacque clinging to her car and beating out her window. “I had an accident.” Her voice was weak and thready but she was at least talking. That was a plus. She wasn’t dead either. And that was definitely a major plus.

  “Yes.”

  She managed to lift her head and stare at him. His lips were set in a firm line and his hands gripped the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white. “That was my fault. I’m sorry you were hurt.”

  Gwen was having a difficult time wrapping her brain around everything that had happened. She’d been running from Jacque and his brother because she thought they were going to kill her. She knew their deepest, darkest secret. Not that she could ever tell anyone. And even if she did, they’d never believe her and she’d probably end up on the psychiatric ward of the nearest hospital.

  Now he was apologizing for her getting hurt. That didn’t jive with the whole getting rid of her scenario. Maybe he was lulling her into a false sense of security so she’d tell him everything she knew first.

  “I have people waiting for me to contact them. When I don’t call, they’ll go to the police.” Okay, so that was a bald-faced lie, but he didn’t know that.

  He shook his head, not appearing the least bit concerned. “You don’t have any close family and you haven’t lived in Wayman’s Peak long enough to make any good friends.”

  Her already upset stomach clenched and nausea threatened. How could he know that much about her? She swallowed hard and rallied. “The local sheriff’s office checks on me on a regular basis.” That much was true.

  Jacque speared her with a look that was part pity and part something she couldn’t identify. “I’ll take my chances.” He turned back to the road and kept driving. His lack of concern sent her anxiety skyrocketing.

  “Where are we going?”

  “My home.” He reached out and lightly touched his hand to her face.

  That didn’t make any sense. “You live near here?”

  “A few hours away. You’ve been out of it for a while.”

  Gwen pushed all the way upright in her seat, groaning when her head protested. She looked around but that didn’t tell her anything. The road was dark and there were no signs showing where they were. They were cruising through the night in a rather large truck, the headlights spearing through the darkness.

  “Take it easy,” he admonished. “You should be resting.”

  “I probably have a concussion. I shouldn’t be sleeping.” That much she did know.

  “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Gwen laughed, but it was tinged with despair. “Too late for that.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry you were hurt and scared, but I’m not sorry I met you.”

  Crap. She wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Yes, he was sexy as all get out, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a serial killer, or in this case, a werewolf. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Where’s Louis?” The other LaForge brother had disappeared somewhere along the way. Was he still back at her house?

  “He’s taking care of some business.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what that business was. The less she knew about them and their business at this point the better. “Look,” she began. “We both know I can’t say anything to anyone about what I saw or what Hector told me. They’d think I was nuts. You take the jump drive and just let me go.” That sounded reasonable to her. As far as she knew they didn’t know what she did for a living, or at least she hoped they didn’t. There was still a chance she could talk her way out of this mess.

  Jacque glanced in her direction and the corners of his mouth twitched. Was the devil laughing at her?

  “Let me go.” God, she wished she didn’t sound so desperate, but she was at the end of her rope. She didn’t want to die.

  “I can’t.” His stark words fell between them, the finality of them descending on her with the force of a hammer on an anvil.

  Gwen reached for the passenger door, clawing at the handle. Better to jump and take her chances. Maybe she could give him the slip in the woods. Right now she was less afraid of the wildlife in the trees than she was of the man sitting next to her.

  “Gwen!” he yelled, swearing as he brought the truck to a screeching halt on the side of the road. The door was locked and nothing she did worked. She pressed the button to lower the window. She was halfway out the opening when he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her back.

  “No!” She swiveled and beat at his head and chest and whatever other part of him she could reach. He didn’t fight her, didn’t hurt her. Instead, he closed his arms around her and held her against his broad chest.

  “Shh,” he crooned in his deep, mesmerizing voice. “Don’t fight me, Gwen. I won’t hurt you, I promise. And I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.” His slow drawl wrapped around her like an embrace and his words fell between them like a vow.

  She almost believed him. Wanted to believe him. But years of cynicism made it impossible. She fought him until her strength ran out, which wasn’t long. Her injuries and her woozy head made it almost impossible to put up much of a battle. Still, she tried. It wasn’t in her nature to give up, to quit.

  When she finally stilled in his arms, he tilted her so that she was looking up at him. Even in the dark cab of the truck she could see the intense expression on his face. He didn’t look angry so much as he appeared concerned. She didn’t understand him. She didn’t understand any of this mess she found herself in the middle of.

  She blinked and he was closer. He was lowering his head, his gaze locked onto her face—no, not her face, her lips. Was he going to kiss her?

  He was. Before she could decide what to do, his mouth was touching hers. There was no demand, no aggression, simply a light press of his lips against hers.

  Gwen groaned as heat rushed through her body. This wasn’t fair. The first guy she’d met in months that rocked her boat and it was her kidnapper. She slapped her hand against his chest, intending to push him away. Instead, her fingers spread wide, exploring the thick mass of muscles beneath his T-shirt, feeling the heavy thud of his heart.

  He leaned back slightly, breaking the contact. Their eyes met—his dark and hers light. She could still feel the moist heat of his mouth against her lips and his earthy, woodsy scent filled the air around her. He swept his hand over her hip and settled it against her waist. Even through the layers of her clothing she could feel the heat of him penetrating her skin.

  She licked her lips again and he gave a tortured groan and swooped in to claim her mouth again. He was still gentle, still cognizant of her injuries, but he took control of the kiss and set his stamp of possession on her. Gwen had never been so thoroughly kissed in her life.

  Jacque probed his tongue deep, touching her teeth, the inside of her mouth, her tongue. He probed every corner, every crevice and invited her to do the same.

  Gwen knew she shouldn’t be kissing him, should be pushing him away and trying to escape. Whether it was the slight concussion from the accident, the shock of everything that had happened tonight or the man himself, she couldn’t say. All she knew was she wanted to kiss him, wanted to feel his mouth against hers, needed it more than she’d ever needed anything else.

  That was downright scary and gave her the impetus to finally shove him away. A lock of his shaggy brown hair had fallen into his eyes and she pushed it aside before she thought better of it. He smiled and it changed his entire face, pushing him past sexy into downright lethal to her senses. Oh, he was dangerous all right. If he got her out of her clothes and into bed, she’d tell him whatever he wanted to know.

  She scrambled out of his lap and over to her side of the truck. Her breathing was ragged and her head throbbed w
orse than a toothache. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. This wasn’t good. Not good at all.

  She’d read about stuff like this, about kidnapping victims relating to their kidnappers. That’s all it was. Nothing more. There couldn’t be anything else between them. He was a werewolf, for God’s sake. She’d forgotten that when he’d been kissing her senseless.

  “Are you cold?” He reached into the space behind the seats and drew out a jacket, shook it out and wrapped it around her shoulders.

  It was his. She could smell his outdoorsy scent on the jacket and wanted to cuddle into it and push it away at the same time. Common sense won out. She was cold so it stayed. So what if she happened to rub her nose against the fabric closest to her. Didn’t mean that she took comfort from his smell. Not really.

  “We’ll be there soon.” He put the truck in gear and started driving again. The window on her side went up. “The door is locked and you know you can’t escape through the window. I’ll stop you.”

  Reality slammed back into place and she closed her eyes to shut it out. He wasn’t her boyfriend or her date or even a friend. He was her kidnapper. She’d rest for a few minutes and come up with another plan of escape.

  But where would she go if she did get away? They knew where she lived. The life she’d planned for herself crumbled around her. All her hopes and dreams of having time to write her novel disappeared in a puff of smoke.

  She’d have to sell the cabin and lose herself in a large city somewhere. It wasn’t fair. But life seldom was. You rolled with whatever it threw at you and made the best of it. A lone tear rolled down her cheek and she swiped it away before Jacque could see it. No way did she want him to see he’d upset her. She was strong and resourceful. She would get out of this.

  The motion of the truck and the ache in her head combined to make her sleepy. She’d rest for a few minutes. Just a few.