“You all right?” he softly asked the She-wolf, his gaze scanning the woods for any more skulking humans—the only species he knew that skulked, by the way. But when he didn’t get an answer, he focused on her.
She looked like she was sleeping but he doubted it. Poor little thing had been too terrified for a wolf-nap. He walked over and crouched beside her, his wolf gaze instantly picking up the blood that had pooled in the leaves she’d landed in. He remembered her body hitting the tree, so he pulled her a bit away from the trunk and saw what appeared to be a low-growing branch that jutted out.
Carefully, Eggie felt around the back of the She-wolf’s neck and found the wound. If she’d been human, she’d be dead, but she was wolf and that had saved her life.
Sighing, Eggie glanced back at the trail that would lead to the Lewis family house. He could still hear his and her idiot kin arguing and, to be quite honest, he was damn unimpressed with this town’s idea of basic protection. An infiltration like this would never have happened in Smithtown. Any outsiders were caught at territorial lines and, if their presence was just an accident, and they hadn’t seen anything they shouldn’t have seen, then they were sent on their way with a good ol’ Tennessee, “We don’t like strangers ’round here” dismissal. But, if they were trying to get on Smithtown territory or if they did see something that couldn’t be explained away—then things were handled differently. Often by the females of the town.
Smith females really didn’t like strangers on their territory.
But apparently Smithville, North Carolina, handled things differently with their human witch covens and mixed species all living together in sin. Just wasn’t right. Wolves belonged with wolves. Bears with bears. Cats with cats. And foxes should be put down on sight. That was the proper way of things. He honestly didn’t feel right about rushing the pretty little Lewis She-wolf back to the relatives or Pack who hadn’t been able to protect her in the first place.
So he didn’t.
Nope. Instead, Eggie Ray Smith picked that little gal up and carried her to his car. True, he’d driven his brothers here but they could find their own way back.
Besides, Eggie knew if he hurried, he could reach the nearby Marine base and get the She-wolf ’s wounds tended by a proper shifter doctor and then possibly catch one of his team’s standby transports back home. That way he wouldn’t have to worry about driving the nine to ten hours or so back to Tennessee.
Yep. That sounded like a good plan. So he carefully placed the She-wolf into the backseat of his car and covered her with a blanket from the trunk. She was still in her wolf form and that was probably for the best. She’d most likely heal faster that way.
Once he had her all set, Eggie got into the driver’s seat and started the car. It rumbled to life; his brothers made sure to maintain his vehicle, no matter how long he might be away from home. He really appreciated that as he pulled out of the woods and onto the road with a wounded wolf in his backseat and the blood of human men still on his hands.
That last part was a little unfortunate, though . . . he hated when his hands felt sticky.
CHAPTER TWO
“Smith!” a voice bellowed behind Eggie. “What the hell are you doing here? Why aren’t you somewhere other than here like you’ve been ordered?”
Grudgingly, Eggie looked away from his wounded charge and over his shoulder at the lion male standing behind him—and he stared until the Major cleared his throat and snapped, “Well . . . make it fast and leave. Understand?”
Looking away, the lion quickly walked off and Eggie refocused his attention on the She-wolf and the medical team taking care of her.
The doctor, a hyena, giggled a little and said, “We’ll need to stitch this wound up and give her some antibiotics to stave off infection.” He glanced at the jackal standing next to him. “Get her some clothes. I’ll need to force a shift when I’m done.”
The hyena straightened up. “Are you going to stand there and stare at me with those freaky eyes of yours?”
“Born with fangs, giggle like my youngest niece, but I’m the freak?”
The pair glared at each other until a black bear lumbered to the table. “Smith. Got you transport.”
“Good.” Eggie pointed at the She-wolf. “Fix her fast, giggler.”
The hyena folded his arms over his chest. “Maybe I’m too busy. I do have other duties.”
Eggie lowered his head, looking up at the hyena while he let his fangs ease out of his gums along with his signature growl.
“Okay, okay.” The hyena held his hands up. “Back off, Rin Tin Tin. I said I’d take care of her.”
To make sure the bastard understood that Eggie wasn’t joking around, he barked once, enjoying the way the hyena stumbled back, before he turned away and stalked off. The black bear, his team leader named McMartin, followed him.
Eggie didn’t like bears, but he tolerated McMartin well enough. Probably because he was a black bear and black bears were quiet like grizzlies but not as easily startled and definitely not as ludicrously large as polars.
“What else do you need me to do?” McMartin asked.
“Find out who wants her dead.”
“You sure they were targeting her?”
“Yeah. I’m sure.”
“Shouldn’t her Pack handle this? Isn’t that what wolves do for each other?”
Eggie stopped, faced the bear, and didn’t say a word.
“Fine,” McMartin sighed after a full minute of that. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.”
“And the pilot needs to know where you’re go—”
“Tennessee.”
Then, without another word, Eggie walked off to get what weapons he needed.
Darla opened her eyes but immediately closed them again. The motion of the car and the bright light coming through the window made her feel a little queasy.
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Where am I?”
“My car,” a voice growled at her.
She forced one eye open to peek at the male driving the car. She remembered him now. The Smith male from last night. That had been last night, right? She hadn’t been dreaming?
Darla cleared her throat and closed her eye again when even that small action caused quite a bit of pain. “Why am I in your car, uh . . . ?”
“Eggie.”
“Eggie?” She opened that one eye again. “Your name is Eggie?”
“Egbert Ray. Everybody calls me Eggie.”
“Oh.” Well, there were some unique nicknames in her family, too, so who was she to . . . to . . .
“Wait. Egbert Ray?” Now she had both eyes open, her gaze locked on the big wolf in the driver’s seat beside her. “You’re . . . Egbert Ray Smith?”
“Yep.”
“The Egbert Ray Smith?”
“Only know one.” He glanced at her with eyes still shifted to wolf. “And that’s me.”
Darla let out a breath and she knew it was more of a shudder.
Don’t panic, she told herself. Don’t panic.
She was sure that everything was fine. That everything was just . . . fine. There was probably a very logical reason she was in a car with Egbert Ray Smith. A very logical reason.
But remembering what he’d done last night to those human men reminded Darla of all that she’d heard about Egbert Smith—Eggie—over the years. Not even thirty and the wolf was one of the most feared killers in the Smith Pack world-wide. She clearly remembered the relieved sighs of her neighbor Smiths when they’d found out, “That boy has become a Marine.”
That boy. That’s how they had all described him, too. As that boy. Like they were afraid of saying his name, as if doing so would bring him there. Invoke him, as her hometown witch coven would say. Although her sisters were known to cut them off mid-Eggie mention, Eggie’s brothers never seemed afraid of him. But to be honest, Darla didn’t put much stock in that. None of the Smithtown boys had much sense in her estimation.
Darla look
ed out the window, still moving only her eyes since moving her neck only brought pain, though she couldn’t figure out why. “Where are we?” she asked since she didn’t really recognize anything flying by.
“Tennessee.”
Her fingers curled into fists. “Tennessee? Why . . . when . . . I don’t understand ...”
“You’re fine.”
“I am not fine! You’ve kidnapped me from the safety of my Pack and my family’s home and taken me across state lines!”
“Not that safe.”
“What does that mean? Not that safe?”
“You were attacked there. By full-humans.”
“Oh, and that wouldn’t have happened if I was in Smith County or Smithland or Smith Province or whatever dang Smith-named place you people happen to reside in at the moment?”
“Nope. Probably wouldn’t.”
Fed up with his attitude, her head and neck hurting badly, and being dang afraid, Darla raised her arm and pointed. “Pull over.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. Pull over!”
“Let’s get to Smithtown territory first.”
“Pull over now!”
“All right. All right.” Turning the wheel, he pulled to a stop at the side of the two-lane highway, big trucks rumbling past.
“What is it?” he asked, sounding gruff and nasty. For all Darla knew, she could be in a car with a truly despicable person and she had to know. She had to know if she was truly safe or if she should try to make a run for it, sore neck or not. And the only way to do that was the way she’d been taught by her favorite great aunt.
Without moving her very sore neck, Darla raised her hands and gestured to the wolf. “Come here.”
Eggie, not wanting to be out here in the open among all these full-humans, didn’t quite understand what the little gal was asking.
“Pardon?”
“Come here.”
He leaned over, thinking maybe she was feeling sick. Her body was still healing and he could tell she was in pain. He’d feel better when he had her tucked into a bed on properly protected territory.
“Closer. I can’t turn my neck.”
So he leaned in closer, moving over her so he could see her face without her having to turn. That’s when she placed her small hands on his face and tugged him even closer. She gazed right into his eyes and, for a brief, wonderful second, he thought she was going to kiss him. But all she did was stare intently into his face, her gaze searching his. For what, Eggie had no idea. No one had ever looked at him for more than a few seconds at a time.
“Are you mad or something?” she asked.
“No.”
“Worried? Terrified?”
“No.”
“Then why are your eyes still wolf?”
“They’re not.”
“They’re not?”
“No.” He shifted his eyes to show her the difference. “See? That’s shifted. That isn’t.”
“Huh.” She blinked. “You do realize that the only difference is that your shifted eyes are slightly more dilated?”
“Never really paid attention.”
“Of course,” she sighed and went on staring into his eyes.
Eggie had no idea how long they sat there with him hovering over her, his arms braced on either side of her hips, her hands soft on his jaw, but he knew he liked it. And they’d barely touched.
Finally, she let out a long breath, her body relaxing back into the seat. Her hands dropping to her lap.
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?”
“Uh-huh.”
Slowly, Eggie moved back to his seat, looking out the car window. “What just happened?” Because Eggie knew something had happened.
“I just needed to make sure I was safe with you.”
“Safe with me?” He looked at her. “You know you’re safe with me?” She was, but how could she be so sure of that fact?
She smiled, seeming relieved. “Uh-huh.”
“And you know this because you . . . looked at me?”
“Basically.”
“Basically?”
“Uh-huh. Basically.”
She smiled and Eggie realized that she had the prettiest and deepest dimples in those cute cheeks that he’d ever seen before in his life.
“So you want me to keep going?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” Carefully she turned her head, wincing just a little from the pain. “You can take me wherever you want to, Egbert Ray Smith, because I know that I’ll never be safer than I am right now . . . with you.”
And she said the words with such sincerity, her dark brown eyes so trusting of him when even his own kin never looked at him that way, that Eggie knew in that moment that he’d never let anyone harm this She-wolf. Never let anyone come near her without her consent.
He’d protect Darla Mae Smith with his life.
Checking the road, Eggie pulled out onto the highway and headed home.
CHAPTER THREE
So this was the infamous Smithtown.
Darla had heard about it long before her sisters had become involved with Smith males. While Smithville, North Carolina, was the place of comfort and relaxation for all shifters, a sanctuary where they could be themselves while hunting deer and elk and freshwater seals, Smithtown was for Smith Pack members and their kin only. Even other Packs didn’t venture into Smithtown without express permission unless they were looking for a fight.
So with that particular history in her head, Darla was expecting a backwoods town filled with inbred redneck wolves. But, to her surprise, it was . . . charming. The smaller houses were nicely spaced with pretty little lawns and gardens, while the bigger homes were on lovely stretches of land. There were lots of trees and hills and deer and elk roaming around free. The town they cut through had quaint storefronts, a fancy restaurant, a more casual diner, and a movie theater showing Dirty Mary, Crazy Larry and The Golden Voyage of Sinbad.
It seemed like a quiet, pleasant town and she was happy to see someplace new. She loved finding new places to visit.
Eventually, they pulled onto a dirt road. They traveled for another five minutes until they reached a small house with a wraparound porch.
“Is this your father’s house?” she asked.
“No.” He turned the car off and got out.
“Not real chatty, are ya?” she muttered, watching the big wolf walk around the front of the car and come to her side. He opened the door and slipped his arms under her legs and behind her back.
“I can walk,” she told him.
If he heard her, she couldn’t tell. He didn’t respond at all. Not even a grunt. He simply lifted her out of the car, easily carrying her toward the house.
As it was in most Smith towns, whether outsiders were allowed or not, his front door wasn’t locked and he walked right into his home.
And the inside of Eggie Smith’s house was . . . sparse. Yes. Sparse was the word. Not bad or anything, but not exactly homey either. In the living room there was a folding card table, three folding chairs, two barrels she assumed were used for chairs, and a pretty big TV right against the wall. A color one at that with a remote sitting right on top of the set.
Yet for a man who probably hadn’t been home for a very long time, it wasn’t a bad place. Someone was keeping it dust free and airing it out every once in a while. Still, the way the wolf stood in the middle of it, glaring at the entire room, she had the feeling he was seeing it for the first time from an outsider’s perspective.
Not wanting him to feel bad, Darla said, “You can just put me down in that chair there.” She pointed at one of the folding chairs around the folding table, but he snarled a little and held her a bit tighter.
Feeling awkward because she felt quite comfortable tucked in his arms, Darla asked, “Have you been fixing up the place? I see all the tools.”
“Building,” he replied.
“Oh, you’ve been building onto it?”
“That, too.”
Darla blinked, glanced around without turning her head. “Wait ... you built this place.”
He grunted.
“By yourself?”
“Mostly.”
Fascinated, Darla turned her finger in a circle. “Turn, turn.”
“Huh?”
“I want to see. Show me.”
He stared at her a moment with that deadly frown before he slowly turned in a circle.
Impressed with what she saw, Darla grinned. “This is beautiful, Egbert Ray. Did you design it yourself?”
“No. Cousin of mine gave me the plans. I put it together. When my brothers were sober and not arguing with your sisters, they helped.”
Always amazed by people who could build things with their hands, Darla looked into that scowling face. “It’s beautiful.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. Now it’s true that I can make you an éclair that would have you weeping tears of joy, but other than that, I can’t build a darn thing.”
“Well . . . thank you kindly.” He took another look around. “Ain’t got no furniture, though.”
“You have chairs and a table.”
“Okay. Ain’t got no real furniture.”
“I’m not spun glass, Egbert Ray. My posterior can sit anywhere it has a need to.”
He grunted . . . again, and walked into the hallway. She caught a glimpse of his kitchen and it wasn’t too bad from what she could see. Had all the basics anyway. Then he was taking her up a sturdy set of stairs to the second floor. He took her into the first bedroom and she guessed this was where he slept when he was home. The bed was big and also sturdy. A human king or a bear twin. Based on the thickness of the legs of the frame, she’d guess it was a bear twin.
With great care, he placed her on the bed with her back against the headboard. He stepped back, looked her over.
“Now sleep . . . or something.”
Darla bit the inside of her mouth to prevent a laugh from coming out. Poor thing. He was just used to dealing with other Marines, wasn’t he?
After she got control of herself, Darla said, “The stitches.”
“What about them?”
“I think they need to come out.”
Like a Wolf with a Bone Page 2
