The Wolf Princess: The Wolf PrincessOne Eye Open (The Pack)

by Karen Whiddon

  Carson felt his face heat. “I have good reason—”

  “Sure you do.” Scorn sharpened her tone. “Even Ted Bundy thought he had good reason.”

  “Give me a break.” He ran his hand through his hair, his earlier expectation of a peaceful drive evaporating. “You can’t compare me to him.”

  “Why not? He’s a murderer. You could be. Do you intend to kill my brother?”

  A low growl rose in his throat. It sounded enough like an animal to cause the puppy to raise his head from Brenna’s lap.

  Oddly enough, Brenna smiled as though she found comfort in the sound.

  “I’ll bring The Wolf to justice. By whatever means necessary.”

  Brenna forced her jaw to relax. She would simply have to wait and see what other lies he might have told.

  Carson turned his head, looking directly at her for the first time in what seemed like hours. Holding his gaze, she resisted the strange, shivery sensation she got whenever their eyes connected. She didn’t know if it was because of the threat this human represented or some other, inexplicable reason. Whatever the cause, she didn’t like the feeling. She focused on the threat.

  “I will not let you harm Alex.”

  His lips twisted into a mocking smile. “Hmm.”

  Brenna let that pass. Carson had no idea what he was dealing with. Most men took one look into her eyes and knew better than to toy with her. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

  He laughed. “Should I be?”

  She tried a different tack. “Are you afraid of anything?”

  Instantly he sobered. “I told you. I live for one thing only. Finding the people who destroyed my life and making them pay. Nothing and no one can keep me from that goal.”

  Back to that. Fine. “You want answers, right?”

  “I want the truth.”

  “Then we’re on the same side.”

  He quirked a brow in question, alternating his attention between her and the road. “How do you figure?”

  “We both want facts.”

  “Yeah.” A shadow of savagery remained in his tone. “That’s why we’re heading toward the Vermont border.”

  All right, she would bite. “Why? What’d you find out?”

  “My informant told me that Hades’ Claws is having a big meeting. Hundreds are assembling in a week’s time in a place they have north of Hawk’s Falls.”

  “How do you know you can trust him?”

  “Trust who?”

  “The informant.”

  “I’ve worked with him before. His tips have always panned out. As long as I pay, he tells me the truth.”

  “I thought you didn’t pay for information,” she said.

  “Seldom.” He smiled. “Sometimes I bluff.”

  “And if you don’t pay?”

  “Then he’d sooner let me die.”

  For some reason that touched her. “You live a sad life, Carson Turner.”

  His expression froze, the falsely pleasant mask slipping slightly to reveal hard ruthlessness underneath.

  “Sad?” He shook his head. “Angry, maybe. Mad. Oh yeah, definitely furious. But not sad, not anymore. Not ever again.”

  She saw that her words had hit some deeply hidden mark. “I meant,” she said, “it’s sad that you have to pay people to help you.”

  He shrugged, a quick jerk of his shoulders. “Not in my line of work.”

  “And this?” With her hand she indicated the road ahead. “Is all this work, too? Pretending to be an active DEA agent, lying to other law enforcement guys, making me a captive?”

  Holding her breath, she waited to hear his answer. Though he’d lied to her initially, since she’d caught and confronted him, perhaps now he would tell her the truth.

  “This is my life,” he said, after a long silence. “Finding Alex, finding them, keeps me alive.”

  “Vengeance?”

  He nodded.

  Bleakness settled in her chest, icier than any northern blizzard. “You do mean to kill him.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. If he was the one—”

  “‘If’?” She pounced on the word. “You have doubts then?”

  He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “If he was the one who betrayed me—us—and had Julie and Becky killed, he deserves to die.”

  She seized on the word. “‘If.’ You said ‘if’ again.”

  “I saw him, Brenna.”

  “No.” She remembered his exact words as clearly as if she’d written them down. “You said you saw him with a gun. But you never saw him shoot, did you?”

  “Semantics,” he snarled. “It’s not like he tried to help me, now, is it?”

  “And you have the right to be his judge and his jury?”

  “The right?” Raw savagery burned in his expression, from the hard set of his chin to his burning gaze. “I lost any rights long ago. I should have been the one to die, not my family. They were blameless, damn it. It was because of me, because of my job. They died without warning, without protection. They’d done nothing—” His voice broke, and he swallowed. White-knuckled, his hands gripped the steering wheel while he struggled to regain control of his emotions.

  Such pain. Raw anguish. As quickly as it had begun, her protective anger faded. What must it have been like to lose everyone he loved? Brenna could only imagine.

  “What about your parents?”

  He continued to stare straight ahead. “What about them?”

  “I imagine they care what happens to you.”

  “Imagine all you want. They’re divorced. My mother lives in Seattle. She calls me once in a while, or I call her.”

  “Your father?”

  He made a rude sound. “Remarried. New family. He doesn’t need any of this.”

  “Any brothers or sisters?”

  “Look, what is this?” His gaze raked her before he turned his attention back to the road. “Why are you asking so many questions? Why does any of this matter to you?”

  His reaction stung. “I’m trying to figure you out, that’s all.”

  “Well, stop. All the relatives in the world can’t make up for the loss of my wife and daughter.”

  “I didn’t think they could,” she said softly. “But having them to depend on sure helps.”

  “Like you depend on Alex?”

  She ignored the mockery in his tone. “Yes, exactly. Like I depend on Alex.”

  “I wouldn’t depend on him too much. Looks like he ducked out on you, too.”

  She heard the unspoken: like he ducked out on me.

  Though she tried to tear herself away, she found her gaze drawn to him. Despite the painful emotions still plain in the hard cast of his features, he handled the Tahoe with deft precision, moving in and out of lanes with the confidence of a skilled driver. His law enforcement training, no doubt.

  Watching him channel his agony into driving, Brenna knew Carson meant what he said. The more she learned about him, the more she realized he wanted the truth and meant to find it, no matter what. This man took no half measures. He would be absolutely certain he had the right person before he started any course of action. Given that, she couldn’t blame him for wanting to find her brother.

  A thought struck her so hard that for a moment she couldn’t catch her breath. What if Carson was right? What if her brother had been the one who’d murdered Carson’s family? Just thinking such a thing felt disloyal and impossible, yet…

  The evidence seemed damning. Carson himself had seen Alex with the gun. He was still involved with the biker gang. If he wasn’t undercover, why was he with them? There had to be some sort of rational explanation.

  “I don’t understand why Alex hasn’t contacted you,” she mused. “Unless he’s in danger.”

  “Because he’s guilty.” After a quick glance at her face, his tone softened. “Believe me, that’s something I’ve wondered, too. Hell, Julie loved him like a brother. Becky called him Uncle. And he was my best friend.”

  Was. Once again
, past tense. Did Carson see no possibility that he might be wrong? That someone else might have killed his family?

  “When I was lying on the floor bleeding, I raised my head and looked at him. He knows I saw him. That’s why he’s trying to have me killed.”

  Brenna started. Though he spoke without inflection, she heard no doubt in Carson’s voice. He truly believed that Alex… She couldn’t complete the thought.

  Again Phelan whimpered, shifting in her arms. Instantly she stilled her heart rate. She didn’t want to alarm the puppy. In a moment he snuggled into her warmth, drifting back into a fitful doze.

  “You should have let him out when we got gas,” Carson commented. Since he was right, Brenna merely nodded.

  With the radio off, the ebb and flow of traffic combined with the Tahoe’s engine in a soft roar. Twice Brenna’s eyes drifted closed. Both times she forced herself to sit up and stretch her neck and shoulders.

  “How much longer will it take to get there?” she asked, not from any real need for conversation, but merely to break the silence and stay awake.

  “An hour, maybe less.” From his terse response, she doubted he wanted to talk any more than she did. Tough. She had to prepare herself for the situation they were headed into.

  “Tell me about Hawk’s Falls. What kind of situation are we going to find?”

  Another sidelong glance. “Dangerous. If Jack—my informant—is right, a lot of money and drugs are going to change hands in a couple of days. They’re smart. The big rally is a cover. With hundreds of bikers in town, no one will be able to tell when the deal goes down.”

  “So the bikers will be on edge?”

  “Only the ones involved. The rest of them will be too busy partying to pay attention to anything else.”

  She sighed. “What kind of place is this?”

  “Hawk’s Falls? Typical small town. I’ve been through it once or twice. Nothing exciting.”

  “Then why do they allow this biker gathering?”

  “Hey.” Amusement sparkled in his eyes. “Most bikers are decent people. Their money’s as good as anyone else’s.”

  “What are we going to do once we get there? Do you have a plan?”

  “We?” Carson shook his head, still watching the highway.

  Amused, Brenna hid her smile. “Yes, we. Unless you plan to tie me up and leave me in here.”

  “Don’t tempt me,” he growled, though the slight lift at the corner of his mouth told her he was joking. So the man did have a sense of humor.

  “Seriously, what are we going to do?”

  “We have to be careful. Once we get to Hawk’s Falls, we’re going to play it by ear.”

  “You don’t have a plan.”

  “I have a plan.” A quick grin came and went on his face. “I just don’t know what it is yet.”

  “We’ll look for my brother.”

  “No.” No trace of a smile relieved the hard cast of his features now. “We most definitely will not be looking for Alex.”

  Brenna’s breath caught in her throat. If he was still kidding, he had an odd sense of humor. “Why not?”

  He shrugged. “Basically, you’re my bait. I want him to come to us, but I don’t want to alarm the entire gang. So we pretend we don’t care. Keep things low-key.”

  “Bait?” Her voice rose. “As in setting a trap?”

  “I want to talk to your brother. I told you it would be dangerous.”

  She waved away his words. “I don’t care about me. I want to make sure we don’t put Alex in danger.”

  “Danger? He’ll probably be surrounded by his cohorts. I doubt I could get close to him. I mean to force your brother to talk to me. Having you with me in the line of fire is the best way I can think of to make sure that happens. So, yes, you’re my bait. We’re going to go into downtown Hawk’s Falls and pretend to enjoy each other’s company.”

  That galled, too. “What’s the point? If Alex wants to find us, he will. His tracking skills are excellent. I’d like to find him first.”

  “No.” Impatience sounded in the gravelly timbre of his voice. “With so much going on, he’ll be busy. Distracted. I need to get his attention. Having you with me should do it. I want him alone, not surrounded by his gang.”

  “Alone.” Brenna repeated the one word that bothered her. “I won’t let you hurt him.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  “Then—”

  “Try and understand. I need to talk to him. I want him to look me in the eyes and tell me, in his own words, what happened that day. Why he was there, at my house, holding the gun. Why he shot.”

  “And then you’ll kill him.”

  “I’d like to think I’m better than that. I’d like to think I’d see him arrested, make sure he stood trial.”

  “But you’re not sure.”

  He met her gaze. “I don’t know. If he was the one who killed my family…”

  “If he’s as evil as you seem to think, he’d shoot you first.”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Then I’d know, wouldn’t I? But before I died, I’d make sure to take him with me.”

  His violent words echoed in the interior of the Tahoe. Or maybe, she reflected, they bounced off the walls of her bruised heart. Carson didn’t really care whether he lived or died, as long as he found out the truth and exacted vengeance. Hell of a way for a man to live.

  Why his pain touched her so deeply, she couldn’t say. Yet one thing stood out in all he’d said. Despite his seemingly firm conviction, Carson still didn’t really know the truth. Even she was beginning to wonder what exactly had happened that day.

  But Alex was her twin. She knew him nearly as well as she knew herself. He would have an explanation for everything. And, unless the danger was too great, once he knew of her presence, Alex would find her. Even if he had to change to do so.

  Phelan lifted his head, watching the exchange between them with interest. Now, apparently having decided he wanted to check Carson out more thoroughly, he wiggled from her lap and sank to his stomach. Sniffing furiously, he stretched his stubby little body until his neck was fully extended. Still unable to reach Carson over the console, he began a slow belly crawl up and over.

  “Hey.” Gently Carson pushed him away. “If you’re gonna let that dog travel with us, keep it away from me.”

  Brenna gathered Phelan back in her lap, making quiet soothing sounds while she stroked his soft fur. She hadn’t imagined the flash of panic on Carson’s face when Phelan licked his hand. Carson had built such a wall around himself that he couldn’t even let a puppy get close. Again she felt her chest tighten; again she forced the feeling away. She couldn’t afford to let pity—or any other emotion—cloud her judgment where Carson was concerned.

  She’d always been a sucker for the underdog. The forgotten ones, the quiet children who remained in the background while the others shone, the formerly beloved pets that waited, ignored, in some suburban backyard while the television inside the house blared.

  Her first concern had to be for her brother, but she couldn’t walk away until she knew Carson had his answers and maybe, finally, peace.

  How stupid was that? Thoroughly annoyed with herself, Brenna crossed her arms and glared at her oblivious companion.

  She let her gaze wander as her glare faded into a perusal. He was a fine-looking man. His shoulders pleasantly filled out his sweatshirt, and his muscular arms spoke of more than a passing interest in physical fitness. Dark, shaggy hair and craggy, masculine features combined with his lean, athletic build, making him the kind of man most women drooled over.

  His scent pleased her, too. Before she thought better of it, Brenna inhaled. Masculine, crisp and slightly musky, he carried the enticing smell of one who would make an excellent mate—if he were a shape-shifter, that is, she added hurriedly to herself, not liking the direction her thoughts had been heading. Mate indeed! After what had happened in her one attempt to marry a human, Brenna definitely wasn’t up to that kind of agony aga
in. Ever.

  “Are you done?” he drawled.

  Her gaze flew to his face. “What?”

  “I asked if you were finished looking me over like I was your next meal?”

  Deliberately she smiled, showing her teeth. Some humans—no, most humans—recoiled instinctively when they saw her in predatory mode.

  Carson simply stared back, unsmiling.

  “Don’t get any ideas,” he said.

  For a moment she couldn’t understand his meaning. When she did, she felt her face color. Still, because she rarely backed down, she challenged him.

  “What kind of ideas? Enlighten me.”

  Was it a trick of the light, or did his own tan complexion turn red? His sensual lips thinned, and his eyes turned flinty as he glared at her.

  “You know exactly what I mean.”

  “No.” She batted her eyelashes for good measure, ignoring the unaccustomed butterflies in her chest. “I don’t. Really. What kind of ideas do you not want me to have?”

  For a moment she thought he might cry uncle. But evidently Carson Turner, renegade DEA agent, was every bit as stubborn as she.

  “Sex.” He spoke crisply. “You looked me over like a woman with sex on her mind.”

  Sex. Him. Her. A tangle of bodies. Hot, passionate— No. He was wrong. She laughed, unable to keep from choking midway through.

  Still, her best response had to be humor. A pitiful attempt at laughing off his right-on-target remark.

  “Hey, it’s been a long time.” She tried for a teasing tone and found it.

  The darkness in his eyes deepened. “Look, I admit you’re an attractive woman. And it’s been a long time for me, too.” His husky voice did strange things to her insides. “But I loved my wife. I couldn’t even think of anyone else that way—”

  The cell phone rang, interrupting him. Unlike the sometimes annoying specialty rings some phones had, he’d chosen a plain, unvarnished tone. Somehow she wasn’t surprised.

  “Unidentified caller.” He glanced at the silver faceplate where the caller ID showed. “Only a few people have this number. We’ll finish this conversation later.” He stabbed the on button. “Hello?”