Wolf Hunt

by R. J. Blain

  “Airports,” she snarled, fumbling with her seatbelt.

  All I could smell in the car was the spice of werewolf, and the woman’s scent reminded me of Desmond. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She didn’t look like Desmond; even rumpled with her thick hair making an escape from its ponytail confines, she was the type of woman I expected on the silver screen instead of in a car with me.

  Desmond, on the other hand, was the type of man I expected to in the thick of the action, hardened and refined over the years, although deceitfully youthful in appearance.

  Being a werewolf probably had something to do with that.

  “Sorry it took me so long to get here.”

  “Appreciate you picking me up. I was going to go mad if I had to stay in there for another minute.” She shuddered and hugged herself. “Fucking planes.”

  “You’ll be pleased to know we’ll be driving across Europe, then. Faster by plane, but a lot harder to fly under the radar. If we wanted everyone to know where we were going, we would’ve flown out of Devonport.”

  “Right. So, you’re the one who got them out of the castle? You don’t look like all that much.”

  “I’m not in my prime right now,” I confessed, shaking my head and driving in the direction of the hotel. “Sorry to disappoint you, lady.”

  “Nicole.”

  “Declan. Anything I should know about the fact you showed up here? I didn’t tell you where we’d be going.”

  “Dante told me.”

  “Dante?”

  Nicole snickered. “Bob. You call him Bob.”

  “Hey, he calls me Bob, too. Don’t knock it, lady. Bob’s a great name. We’ve done a lot of good business calling each other Bob. Don’t spoil a great working relationship with names.”

  “Speaking of Bob, I should call him.”

  I tightened my grip on the wheel with one hand, dug my phone out with the other, unlocked it with my thumb print, and offered it to her. “It’s a German number and Bob already knows it. It’ll save you a pretty penny in long-distance charges.”

  “Considerate. Thanks.” She took the phone, dialed a number, and held it to her ear. “Hey, Dante. I made it. Bob’s driving me somewhere now.”

  “We’re going to a hotel.”

  “A hotel, apparently,” she relayed. “Yes, Bob picked me up. What is wrong with you two? Bob and Bob? His name’s Declan. Declan. I can spell it for you if I need to. Don’t make me start spelling, Dante. It’s fuck-it-all o’clock, and I just spent fifteen fucking hours flying here.”

  My phone was set to a soft volume because of my sensitive hearing, but I heard faint laughter on the other end of the line.

  “Seriously? He said the exact same thing, word for word. Did you two plan this?” Nicole sighed. “No. He’s driving right now.”

  “Put it on speaker.”

  “No. You’ll crash into something.”

  I laughed. “It’s not just planes you have a problem with, is it?”

  “Shut up, Declan,” she hissed.

  I turned my attention to the road and bit my lip so I wouldn’t laugh. While I had no idea what sort of man Richard was, I had a feeling I’d like him if he was able to handle such a short-tempered lady as his wife.

  Thirty minutes after leaving the airport, I parked the car in the same tight spot I had left well over an hour ago. Stifling a yawn, I rolled my shoulders and debated the pros and cons of sleeping slumped over the steering wheel.

  “I’ll go get checked in,” Nicole said, sliding out of the car.

  “Don’t bother. I’ll just tell the front desk there’s an extra in our room. We’ve got a suite, but no promises you won’t end up on the couch.”

  “Couch is fine. Thanks.”

  I forced myself into motion with a low groan, double-checked I locked the car, and tailed Nicole, stuffing my hands into my pockets. I stopped long enough to inform the front desk of an additional person in the room before heading to the elevator. Nicole pressed the up button, shifting her weight from foot to foot, pausing to hop as we waited. When the door dinged and opened, she bounced in, watching me with wide, expectant eyes.

  Watching her fidget was enough to tire me out. I yawned and dug the room key out of my pocket.

  Nicole snatched it out of my hand and bolted for the room, not quite hitting a full run before she made it to the other end of the hallway. She waited until I caught up before opening the door.

  A growl from within was answered by Nicole, who dove into the room. I heard Desmond grunt, and when I peeked through the doorway, Nicole had the man on the floor, pummeling him with her fists. I leaned against the frame, crossed my arms over my chest, and arched a brow as the pair tussled.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Nicole shrieked, reaching for Desmond’s throat.

  I stepped inside and closed the door before one of the other guests reported a murder. My wolf’s interest and amusement were marred by growing hints of concern. Holding the woman back with both hands, Desmond ducked his chin to protect his throat, the corners of his mouth twitching.

  I couldn’t tell if the man was trying not to scowl or grin.

  “You’re the one who kidnapped my Marine? I found him first, daughter.”

  “Your Marine?” Furrowing my brow, I leveled my best glare at the other werewolf.

  “I stole you fair and square. That makes you mine.”

  “I do not seem to recall you being involved in any extraction operation. The spooks did the work with the help of the Royal Navy. You’re second-rate interference at best.”

  “Dad, don’t talk to the Marine while I’m trying to kill you,” Nicole hissed, swiping her hands at Desmond in her effort to reach his throat. “You ran away from home.”

  “So did you. You’re not supposed to be flying at all, young lady. I’m pretty sure I told you flying was still absolutely out of the question.”

  “I got on a plane for you, you ungrateful asshole!”

  “Why am I supposed to be grateful? I told you I’d handle everything. I promised I would drag Richard back home where he belongs, specifically so you wouldn’t have to fly anywhere.”

  Nicole snarled curses and struggled to break free of her father’s hold. As she kept fighting Desmond, his scent warmed with his amusement.

  I couldn’t tell if Richard was a lucky man or not. One of the pair seemed like a handful, but both of them?

  I decided I didn’t envy the man at all.

  I tossed the keys to the car onto the coffee table along with the room key and dropped onto the couch, stretched my legs, and peeled out of my oxfords. I bent over, grabbed my shoes, and tossed them in the general direction of the door. “When Bob told me she was a few minutes away from a murder, I didn’t think you’d be her victim, Desmond. Can’t say I blame her. Want some help, lady?”

  “See? Even your Marine is on my side. Thanks for the offer, but I can handle him.”

  “Your knee’s about an inch south of a soft spot. Hit him there hard, and he should be easier to deal with,” I advised.

  Nicole jammed her knee into Desmond’s side right beneath his ribcage, hard enough he yelped and lost his hold on her. The pair rolled, and Nicole flicked her finger against the side of his throat.

  Desmond’s pained yowl brought Lane staggering into the room, dressed in his uniform slacks and his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned. “What the fuck?”

  “Father and daughter dispute,” I informed him, propping my feet up on the coffee table. “Good morning. Take a load off.”

  “Mornin’.” Yawning, Lane staggered to the kitchen and fumbled with the coffee machine. “Time to go?”

  “I’m not driving. I’m going to sleep until we reach Paris.” I echoed Lane’s yawn. “I call dibs on the front seat with Desmond behind me. I’m going to lean the chair back and trap him so he stops bothering people.”

  “I like him, Dad. Can I keep him?”

  “No. You already got the Anderson twins. It’s my turn. My Mari
ne and my SEAL. You can’t have the programmer, either.”

  “Why are you stealing men from the military, anyway?”

  “Felt like it.”

  “Maybe we should tie him up and throw him in the trunk, Lane,” I muttered, dropping my feet from the table and getting to my feet. “I’m taking a shower. Try not to kill each other. No murders. Am I understood?”

  “Dear god, Dad. He’s channeling Mom.” Nicole stared at me with wide eyes. “That’s the creepiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  Taking advantage of his daughter’s distraction, Desmond flipped her over, pinned her to the floor, and sat on her. “Enjoy your shower, Major. I’ll make sure to keep the murdering to a minimum.”

  I made my escape to the bathroom before anyone could stop me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I enjoyed traveling with a British passport far too much for my own good. In addition to her American and Canadian passports, Nicole had a British one as well, though hers was battered and worn from use.

  Desmond’s passport was older, too, leaving Anthony, Lane, and I with ones so freshly printed the pages were stiff and had a tendency to stick together. Eight hours after leaving London, we arrived in Paris without drawing any unwanted attention to ourselves.

  In a feeding frenzy more appropriate for sharks than people, Desmond and his daughter descended on the first buffet we found while Lane, Anthony, and I gawked at them. With their voracious appetites masking mine, I dared to take more than I normally would, and my wolf groaned his contentment in my head.

  “We’re going to need a plan,” Desmond announced, sitting down across the table from me with a huge pile of roast beef he had plundered from the buffet. “Declan, what do you think?”

  “I think it’s too early to make a solid plan,” I admitted, shrugging. “Until I have a chance to do some ground work and gather intel, I can give you some ideas but little else. First, we don’t know where our mark is. Second, I don’t know what he’s capable of. Third, the timing is terrible for night reconnaissance; the full moon rises tomorrow evening. Great for if you want to find your way through the woods, miserable if you want to do it without being seen.”

  Tomorrow evening, I’d be hard-pressed to keep from shifting, and I had no idea what being in such close proximity to other werewolves would do. The last thing I wanted was to find out if there was any substance to werewolf legends, especially regarding hunting in packs and territory disputes.

  Lane shrugged. “If we have to do night work we might need the moonlight unless we get goggles.”

  “Cost is not an issue. If you need goggles, we get goggles.” Spearing several pieces of meat with his fork, Desmond transferred them to my plate. “Eat more, son. You’re skin and bones, and I don’t like it.”

  My wolf wasn’t sure what to make of Desmond’s behavior, but it wasn’t worth the effort fighting the other werewolf over it. Shrugging, I picked my fork back up and poked at the meat. “I ate.”

  “About a quarter of what you should be eating.”

  I frowned and narrowed my eyes, wondering if the man was being serious or not; consuming twice as much as Lane made me uncomfortable, and I was too aware of the other patrons staring at the obscene amount of food at our table. “I’m fine. Nicole, what can we expect from your husband?”

  “He can be a bit volatile. He enjoys surprising people, and he’s prone to doing the unexpected. It’s really troublesome. He’s headstrong, and once he decides to do something, he goes and does it.” The woman sighed, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork hard enough I was surprised the plate survived unscathed.

  Like her father, she reached across the table and dropped it onto my growing pile of offerings. “Dad’s right, by the way. Eat. I hate when stubborn men faint because they don’t take care of themselves. It’s annoying, because I end up having to deal with the consequences.”

  “She’s very experienced with this,” Desmond added, his mouth quirking up into a grin. “Richard pushes himself too far all of the time. His brother, Alex, fortunately isn’t as bad.”

  “Be wary about him, you three.” Leveling a glare at her father, Nicole pointed her empty fork at him. “They are not up for sale or adoption. You will not take any of them home with you. You will not force them into the prison you call a house, nor will you coerce them into calling you nice names. It’s bad enough Richard slips and calls you Dad sometimes now. I will not allow you to abuse these innocent men. Am I understood?”

  “I found them first.”

  “This is not up for negotiation, Father.”

  “What the fuck have you gotten me into?” Anthony hissed, jabbing me with his elbow. “Those two are insane.”

  “Stop whining. You’re getting paid extra. Two-hundred thousand for a free trip to Europe isn’t a bad deal.”

  “I already paid you, Declan,” Desmond grumbled.

  “To take pictures, you bloated, mentally crippled marmot.”

  “That’s a new one. Ran out of the good ones?” Shaking his head at me, Anthony rose to his feet. “I need pie. If there is no pie, there better be cake. If there is no cake, I’m hiring you to wage war on this buffet, Declan.”

  “Do I look like a charity?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’ll come to a fair arrangement for payment for your help. I’m prepared to pay a substantial amount for the recovery of my two boys and the ladies with them.” Desmond’s eyes focused on my plate and remained fixed there until I ate a bite to appease him. “It’s a two-part job. First, we need to find them. Second, we need to get all of them back to the United States.”

  “My specialty is information gathering. Lane is probably better trained for live extractions.”

  “From my understanding of the situation, your performance in France was superb. The ladies were impressed. They were also quite worried, as they had heard the gunfire.”

  There was something unnerving about the way Desmond watched me, and I hid my discomfort by focusing my attention on the pile of meat that had been deposited on my plate. While I wasn’t very hungry anymore, I ate anyway. If the werewolf women had hearing anywhere near as sensitive as mine, they would have heard the gunfire from miles away.

  “Unsurprising. I wasn’t far behind them getting out of the castle.”

  “One of the ladies seemed rather convinced you had gotten killed and was pretty upset about it.”

  I lifted my gaze to stare at the other werewolf male, wondering where he was going with his commentary. “And?”

  “You made quite the impression on her if my understanding of the situation is correct.”

  “Please feel free to ignore my father, Declan. He thinks he is clever when he is not. He also has an unfortunate tendency to want to play matchmaker. Really, Father, can’t you behave yourself for ten minutes?”

  “I can when I feel like it.”

  “Feel like it, then.”

  The two started bickering, and sighing my relief, I glanced at Lane out of the corner of my eye. “Get the feeling we’ve jumped right out of the pan and into the fire?”

  “It took you how long to figure that out?”

  “Fucking SEALs.”

  Lane laughed. “What have we learned from this, sir?”

  “Next time, carry three IDs instead of two and book at boarding.”

  “Special Ops,” the SEAL sighed, shaking his head. “Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

  It was a small victory, but I’d take what I could. With a smug smile, I got up and headed for the buffet.

  Declan: 1, SEALS: 4.

  Desmond decided he wanted to stay the night in Paris, but instead of heading to a hotel, he made several phone calls and arranged for us to stay at a friend’s vacation home located outside of the city. The mansion stirred my anxiety, and unable to sleep, I went to work.

  I needed a plan, one I could build the rest of my work on. The others left me on guard while I worked on my laptop in one of the mansion’s three living rooms. T
he one I had chosen was the smallest of the lot, and it had four couches, compounding my unease.

  My entire apartment could fit in the room.

  Shaking my head, I forced my attention back to my work. While Bob had provided me with the information he had on Richard Murphy’s whereabouts, little was of use. If I wanted to find them, I’d have to go to the Swiss Alps and hunt them down the old-fashioned way.

  There was one last thing I could try, but since it had been over a week ago since I had given Julie my phone, I doubted it would work. Pulling up the app to find my phone was basic, and it should have been the first thing I had tried. Shaking my head at my folly, I engaged the app, entered my password for the device, and gave it a shot.

  Twenty seconds later, my phones location popped up on the screen.

  It was still in Switzerland, somewhere deep in the Alps—deep enough I was amazed there was cell reception.

  I chuckled, dialed my own number, and put my phone to my ear.

  “Hello?” a man’s deep voice answered in a rumble.

  “Richard Murphy?” I asked, gambling it was Bob’s friend.

  “Who is this?”

  “The owner of the phone you’re using.”

  “Yes, I’m Richard,” he replied. “I was wondering when you’d call.”

  “Got sidetracked. What’s your situation? I’ve got a five-man team ready to extract you.”

  “You get around, Mr. McGrady. Who are you?”

  “Someone who wants his phone back. Look, Mr. Murphy. There are a lot of people who want to know where you’re at and get you back to where you belong. Some of them are even your friends. We can play this two ways; you can cooperate, give me the details of why you cut communications and dropped off the radar, or I can wander upstairs and tell your wife your coordinates and set her loose. She—”

  “Nicolina is there?” Richard boomed, his voice deepening. “That’s a German number. What is she doing in Germany?”

  “Paris, actually. I bought a replacement phone in Germany. She got here as people typically do, by plane.”