Cracks were dangerous.
“This intersection looks vaguely familiar.” Beck slowed to read the sign facing the other direction. “U.S. 90,” he read. “Marathon, ten miles.”
Close. They were getting closer. She leaned forward. “So we’re heading the right way.”
“Yeah. We’re in between Alpine and Marathon.”
Heart pounding, Marika sat up straight in the seat. “Then step on the gas. The quicker we get there, the better.”
The landscape—flat scrub brush, tumbleweeds and dry, brown grass tinged silver in the moonlight—flew past them as the truck sped down the road. For the most part, Beck managed to avoid ruts; when he didn’t, they bounced so hard she felt as if her teeth were going to go through the roof of her mouth.
Her stomach churned. “Try Addie again,” she blurted.
“Here.” He handed her the cell. “You try. Just hit redial.”
She did, letting it ring twenty-seven times before closing the phone. Her feeling of foreboding increased. “Still no answer.”
“We’ll be there soon enough.”
Not for the first time, Marika wished there was some truth to the legend about vampires being able to turn into bats and fly. If she could, she would have done so.
Finally, ahead she saw the glow of Addie’s neon sign, the peculiar and familiar shade of bright pink lighting up the still-dark sky. As they neared, she saw only one familiar car in the parking lot.
“Addie’s Prius.” Relief flooding her, Marika couldn’t keep the satisfaction from her voice. “She’s still here.”
“But why?” Beck pointed toward the bar. “It looks like the place is locked up tight.”
“Everything looks normal.” Marika softened the sharpness of her reply. “She must be inside, working. Or sleeping. She keeps a cot there. I’m guessing that’s where Dani sleeps while Addie tends to the bar.”
Beck killed the headlights before turning into the parking lot. Then, the engine. Coasting to a stop next to Addie’s car, he put the truck in Park.
Out in a flash, Marika forced herself to wait impatiently for Beck. He grabbed her arm just as she was about to dash forward, making her stumble.
“Wait.”
“Why?” She shook him off, clenching her jaw. “I want to see my daughter.”
“Our daughter,” he corrected. Head up, his nostrils flared. “Something’s off. The scent…the air doesn’t taste right.”
A frisson of fear stabbed her, which she instantly pushed away. Being friends with Juliet had taught her that a shifter’s sense of smell was four hundred times stronger than a human’s—or a vampire’s for that matter.
If he said that the scent was off, then she believed him. But she hoped to hell he was wrong.
In case he wasn’t, she did as he asked and let him lead the way.
Moving cautiously, he kept close to the side of the squat brick building. His powerful, lean body moved with easy grace, yet even so close to her, there was an air of isolation about him.
“Do you see anything?” she whispered, fighting the urge to simply dash around him and inside. But if there was a chance, however small, that she might endanger Dani with rash actions, she couldn’t take it.
Beck shot her a grim look. “Not yet. But the smell is getting worse.”
She sniffed but detected nothing. “Do you have a weapon?”
“No. Those idiots took my gun. And I have a feeling I’m going to need it.”
At this, she felt the first prickle of real alarm. Inside, she began a running litany, over and over—something she might have once called a prayer. Let Dani be all right, let Dani be all right. Please.
As Beck’s broad shoulders disappeared around the corner and she prepared to follow, she couldn’t shake the sudden, horrible sense that he was right. Something had gone terribly wrong. She could only hope Dani hadn’t been hurt. She had to dig her nails into her palms to keep from rushing inside to find out.
Patience. Prudence. Caution. Words every highly trained Huntress—and Protector—knew well. And yet when someone she loved was in danger, each and every one of them became meaningless, empty.
When they reached the back side of the building and she saw the back door swinging open in the slight breeze, she froze in terror and let out a quiet moan.
Dani. Dani. Dani.
Caution be damned. She brushed past Beck.
Intent on the door, Beck raised his arm to block her. Then, with a leap that seemed more wolf than man, he crashed inside, Marika close on his heels.
Chapter 4
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Beck smelled the coppery, bitter scent of blood. From the sharp hiss behind him, he knew Marika detected it, too.
Blood and sweat and the tangy smell of fear.
Not good. Not good at all.
He fumbled for the light switch, flicked it on. The room looked as if a tornado had torn through it—overturned furniture, books and papers scattered everywhere, and blood. A storm of blood, drops splattering the floor and walls. Whoever had been injured here had fought violently and left a crimson trail. Most likely, this had been Addie.
She’d lost a lot of blood. He wondered if she still lived. The fact that they hadn’t left her body here meant she most likely had.
“Where is she?” Marika’s voice rose. “Dani? Addie?”
Biting his tongue because he didn’t want to tell her they were already too late, he shook his head, knowing she’d figure things out soon enough. The blood, the wrecking of the office, all were proof.
Addie was gone. They’d taken her—and Dani, the daughter he’d never met. The idea that he had a two-year-old daughter blew his mind. The thought that Marika could have kept her existence a secret hurt more than he could have believed possible. To think he’d once thought Marika could be his mate…what a fool he’d been.
For survival’s sake, he pushed the thought away for later, concentrating on the here and now. Saving Dani.
“I’ll kill the bastards.” Before his eyes, Marika seemed to morph into another persona, that of a Vampire Huntress, standing taller and more menacing. Larger, somehow. “When I find them, if they have harmed one hair on Dani’s head, I’ll tear them apart limb by limb.”
Picking up the desk phone, which had miraculously escaped the bloodbath, Beck held the receiver to his ear. The dial tone buzzed, satisfyingly loud. “The phone still works, but I’m going to use my cell, just in case someone’s watching this line.” Retrieving his cell phone from his pocket, he punched in a series of numbers from memory.
“Who are you calling? Surely you know better than to call the local police.” Marika sounded both shaken and pissed off.
“I do,” he told her, listening as the call went through a complicated series of relays. “And we need to clean this place up and put a closed sign on the door. No sense in humans poking their noses around in our business.”
Punching in one final code, Beck closed his phone, steeling himself as he turned to face her. The haunted look on her beautiful face made his chest hurt. “I called one of my friends, a Protector named Simon. If anyone can help us, he can. I’m sure he’ll call me back shortly.”
With Brigid’s warning ringing in her ears, she touched his arm. “Fine, but whatever you do, don’t tell him about Dani. If he knows about her, he’ll want to kill her, too.”
Staring at her, he slowly shook his head. “Why do you keep saying that? I don’t understand your logic. Our daughter is a miracle.”
One single, red tear ran down her cheek, which she promptly wiped away. “Thank you for that. I agree, yes, Dani is a miracle to me. But to everyone else, she’s a freak of nature, something that shouldn’t ever have been born.”
When he started to contradict her, she held up her hand. “Believe me, I speak truth.” She took a deep breath, regarding him steadily. “The less they know about her, the better. She’s only safe if she can blend in with humans.”
Beck wasn’t sure he bought into tha
t, especially since he still sensed she was hiding something. She might have received a few isolated death threats from a couple of whackos. Maybe vamps were a bit more unforgiving than shifters.
“That’s where I think you’re wrong.” He kept his voice firm. “Maybe you have to worry about vampires, but not shifters.”
“I worry especially about shifters,” she said darkly.
“Look, Dani is not human. She’s Pack. A Halfling. And Pack protects our own. We don’t want to kill them.”
“Oh, yeah? I heard about what happened with the Protectors and what you shifters called Ferals. You guys were gunning them down left and right.”
He winced, feeling a stab of remorse. But only for a second, because while he was as guilty as the rest, in his heart he knew he’d already paid his own penance.
“That’s over now. It was an isolated incident, during a fixed span of time. It’s in the past. We rebelled against the corrupt leaders who gave the orders. It will never happen again.”
With her head cocked and her arms crossed, she didn’t appear to believe him. “Regardless, promise me you won’t tell them about Dani.”
“Marika—”
“No. This is not negotiable. Give me your word you won’t say anything.”
With a sigh, he gave in. “Fine. You leave me no choice.”
Her gaze searched his face. Finally, she dipped her chin. “I’ll take that as your word.”
“You have it.” He gestured with his phone. “Isn’t there someone you want to call for help?”
“No.”
“No Huntresses? Maybe we can ask their help. I’ve heard amazing things about your organization.”
“Oh, yeah? That we’re good at search-and-destroy missions?”
“Surely you did more than that?”
“Not really. Let me ask you this. What was your motto when you were a Protector?”
“Protect and Defend. Kind of ironic, after what happened, but the original purpose was noble. Is noble, now.”
“As a Vampire Huntress, our motto was—is—Hunt and Destroy. See the problem? If the Huntresses find out about Dani, they won’t rest until they kill her.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Sorry.”
Beck couldn’t believe his ears. “You know,” he said slowly, “I thought I was cynical. But you’ve got me beat.”
“I’m not cynical. I’m a realist.”
“How can you not realize our daughter is the ultimate proof that our two species can coexist in harmony? How can anyone not realize that?”
Her lip curled. “Take off your rose-colored glasses.”
This cynicism saddened him, though he didn’t know why. He’d felt the same himself, until now. But knowing he had a daughter, knowing about his child, Dani, had given him fresh hope. “Juliet would have told you the same if she’d lived.”
She bared her teeth, a curiously Pack gesture that she must have learned from Juliet. “Don’t you dare throw her in my face. I knew her as well as you.”
“Really?” He raised a brow. “We were close.”
“I know. But we were friends a long time. Jules would have wanted to protect Dani at all costs. I’m sorry, but…” Touching her throat as though it had closed, she swallowed hard. “I’ve been dealing with this a long time.”
For a moment, he studied her, eyeing her perfectly formed features, her creamy, smooth skin. Though she looked like an ice princess now, he couldn’t help but remember her in his arms. In the throes of passion, she’d looked blazingly, thrillingly alive. He had a fierce ache to see her that way again.
“What?” Glaring back at him, she brought one hand up to her face, a curiously self-conscious and human gesture. “Do I have something on my face, or what?”
“Just thinking.” Though he wanted to touch her, he kept his hands clenched at his side.
“We’ve got to track them. To do that better, I need to change.”
“Why?” She gave him a bleak look. “You know as well as I do that they didn’t go on foot.”
“Can Dani shape-shift yet?”
She froze. He could have sworn a look of guilt crossed her face as her frown deepened. “Yes. But she wouldn’t have—”
“You never know. In the middle of the chaos, she may have changed while Addie fought them, and taken off. In her wolf shape, she could outrun any human.”
For the first time since they’d arrived, hope lit her perfect features. “I didn’t think of that. She could be free. By all means, change.”
Might as well tell her all of it. He took a deep breath. “Plus, when I’m wolf, I’ll be able to identify the blood, whether it’s Addie’s or…”
Baring her fangs at the thought of her daughter bleeding, Marika nodded. “Do it. Now.”
In a few swift motions, he stripped off his clothes. Removing his jewelry took a second more, and he placed that on top of his shirt. Then, dropping to all fours, he closed his eyes and began the change to wolf.
All the while, even when the change rippled through him, he was overwhelmingly conscious of her watching him. Even as his nose lengthened and fur appeared where once had been human skin, when he opened his eyes as wolf, her delicate features were the first thing he saw.
Marika. The woman he’d once believed was his mate.
As his other self, he padded toward the well-worn sweater draped over the back of the desk chair. Inhaling deeply, he got a flood of scent, immediately bringing to mind a rounded, older woman, with steely gray hair and sparkling blue eyes. Addie.
Then, he moved to the blood. Again, Addie.
Relentless, he searched for other scents. The small cot finally yielded another, a familiar mixture of human and beast. Halfling shifter. Female. Young. This must be Dani.
He scoured the room with his nose, trying to locate another scent. He found none. If she’d walked away from her bed on her own two feet, she would have left traces of her scent on the floor. Their absence told him whoever had come here had snatched her up from the cot, giving her no chance to escape or change. Though they might have used chloroform to knock her out, at least he could venture a guess that she hadn’t been seriously harmed.
Finally, knowing he could learn nothing else as wolf, he moved over to the spot where he’d left his clothes and began the change back to man.
Once completed, he turned his back to Marika while he dressed. As usual, when he returned to human form, he was fully aroused. Though clearly inappropriate, this was something he had no control over. Still, he didn’t want her to see this aspect of him, not now.
All the while, she waited, a silent, perfect statue.
Only when he’d finished, did she move.
“Well?” she demanded. “What did you find out? Whose blood is it?”
“Addie’s. She’s the one who was hurt. She must have fought to protect Dani. The only trace of Dani’s scent comes from her bed. They must have snatched her while she slept and used something to knock her out.”
Their gazes locked. Held. Finally, seeing the abject terror in her eyes, Beck looked away, clenching his fists.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, aware that this was the only comfort he could allow himself to offer her now. “But I think they carried Dani out to their vehicle.”
To distract himself, he went to the desk and, using a thick, black marker, scrawled the words Closed Until Further Notice on a piece of paper, which he then taped to the inside of the front window.
Finally, she stirred. Her determined expression made her look fierce. “What now?”
“Now, we’ve got to clean up this place. I also want to call Simon again. I think he can help put out feelers, see if we can at least get some sort of ID on who these people are. I’ll have to leave a message, but he’ll call me back as soon as he’s able.”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she said.
Seeing the vulnerability in her face, he managed a curt nod and began straightening the furniture. After a moment, she moved quickly to
help him, rolling up the bloody rug and stashing it in the utility closet.
“Without taking the time to paint, we can’t do much about the bloodstained walls. I found this.” She held up a large Bud Light poster. “I was thinking I could tack this up over the worst spot.”
Watching her, it hit him again. “Addie,” he said slowly. “For their sakes, Addie had better not be seriously hurt.”
“I agree.” Expression fierce, she looked every inch the Vampire Huntress. “Either way, they’ve hurt her. For that, they’ll pay with their lives. Shifter or no, regardless of Pack law. Do you understand me?”
“Of course. I completely agree. This is personal.”
A slow smile spread over her face. She touched his arm. “There’s hope for you yet, Anton Beck.”
“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” The instant he spoke, her smile faded, making him regret his words.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said brusquely. “Even though we won’t know where they went, I’ll feel better hitting the road.”
She shook her head, frowning again. “Look, I agreed to let you come here with me, but that’s as far as we go together. From now on, I go alone.” As she started for the door, his cell phone rang, stopping her in her tracks.
Slowly she turned, eyeing him.
Flashing her a look of satisfaction, Beck answered it. “Hello?”
“Anton Beck?” The unfamiliar female voice sounded ancient and imperious all at once.
Cautiously, he responded. “Yes.”
“I am Brigid.”
Marika’s Priestess. “I’ve heard of you.”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I am the leader of the Vampire Huntresses. You may have heard of us.”
She waited a beat for his assent, then continued. “As you’re aware, Marika’s child has been abducted. We are mobilizing forces to deal with this. Shifter, you leave her alone.” Statement, not question.
Lone Wolf Page 5
