Comes the Wolf

COMES THE WOLF

Crystal Kauffman

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Comes the Wolf Copyright © September 2011 by Crystal Kauffman All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

eISBN 978-1-61118-565-2 Editor: Jana J. Hanson Cover Artist: Tuesday Dube Printed in the United States of America

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Chapter One “My fee is five thousand a week.” The elderly man seated across from Aidan gave a single nod. The gesture marked the ready assent of a man used to paying huge sums for what he wanted and getting it. “I require two weeks’ payment maintained in advance, three thousand paid at the beginning of our contract. You’ll be provided an account to transfer your payments.” “You may furnish my secretary with the information. She’ll see everything is in order.” The man had a secretary with her own office outside his home office. The mansion was sure big enough for it. Aidan supposed if he had the old guy’s money, he’d have a home office too. “If your payment is late, I pack up and go home.” “Understandable.” The gaunt old man opened his tented fingers. “In return I’ll expect an update on a weekly basis.” “And you’ll have it. But keep in mind it isn’t my policy to walk in waving a photograph and asking obnoxious questions. You can hire any private investigator if you want that.” “Of course. That’s why I hired you, Mr. Chase. You come highly recommended. Is it true you’ve never failed to find your quarry?” Aidan gave a nod. “It’s true.” Eldridge Forsythe III, heir to the Forsythe Steel empire and God only knew what else, relaxed in his high-backed chair with the air of a man who didn’t worry too much about anything. The chair looked like a relic from an Edwardian castle—the castle’s torture chamber— and the creak of wood it gave off sounded ominous in the enormous room. The entire library/office was incredible, from the antique furniture to the high-tech computer system to the ceiling-high bookshelves stacked with a fortune in leather-bound books, and yet the old house had a darkness about it that gave him a chill.

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“What shall you do when you find her?” “I turn her whereabouts over to you. I only retrieve minors. Your daughter is an adult. I can’t legally transport her by force.” “And the issue of the missing money?” “Again, that’s up to you.” He was used to dealing with mob types and other questionable characters who preferred their own brand of justice. While he suspected most of the old guy’s dealings were on the up-and-up—Forsythe's money stank of age and snobbery—Aidan never made a judgment call in such situations. He simply didn’t want to know. “If you want to have her legally apprehended,” Aidan finished, “you’ll need to involve law enforcement and charge her with a crime.” “No, no. That’s my reason for hiring you. I want the matter kept quiet.” “Your choice.” “You don’t seem surprised.” Old Man Forsythe cracked a smile. His lined, spotted face reminded Aidan of the Crypt Keeper from an old television horror series. “You’re often hired to hunt down persons who abscond with large sums of money?” Aidan didn’t smile back. “I don’t discuss the details of my cases outside their privileged audiences.” He shifted in his chair. “Though I will tell you this; don’t be surprised to find most of it gone. Going on the run is expensive, and most people who come into windfall money spend it quickly.” The old man chuckled. “Mr. Chase, I’ll be quite surprised if my daughter has spent two hundred and fifty thousand dollars in six months. Even I would have trouble with that.” Aidan kept his expression blank. Judging by the Bentley Brooklands parked in front of the six-car garage, he knew the man could spend that in a single day. He experienced another twinge of doubt regarding this case but shrugged it away. It wouldn’t be the first time a client wasn’t 100 percent honest. “A photo of Madeline, Mr. Chase.” He slid a glossy eight-by-ten across the desk. “The phone record, which leads me to believe she’s somewhere in Washington state.” Aidan picked them both up. The photo seized his attention. Madeline Forsythe was pretty but reserved. She knew she was posing for a camera, yet her strained smile seemed overly

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forced. It was taken outside, he guessed, on a patio overlooking the gardens of this very house. The background had a country club look. Madeline Forsythe had a strong bone structure, full lips, and a perfectly straight, almost pixielike nose, but it was something about her eyes that had him staring into the picture trying to see their secrets. How long had she known she was going to run? Why did she wait until she was twenty-one? And why wasn’t a twenty-one-year-old off at some Ivy League college her old man’s money bought her into? Aidan shifted his gaze to the phone record, but his mind took other avenues. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars was a drop in the bucket to a girl who stood to inherit a fortune. Eldridge Forsythe looked sick and old enough to be Madeline’s grandfather. Surely the last couple of years this old man clung to life would be worth the wait, even if she didn’t want this old tomb of a house. The property alone was probably worth millions. Aidan flipped out his notepad. “Mr. Forsythe, I need to know why she left. The real reason.” That fake smile plastered to his mummy face stiffened. “A simple father-daughter disagreement, I assure you. Madeline is very…headstrong.” He forced a dry chuckle. “You’ll probably find her working at an animal shelter or a youth center. Some type of do-goody place. Like all children of privilege, she’s got it in her head to rebel against her upbringing. She’s of that age.” “Most children don’t steal two hundred and fifty thousand dollars from their parents and disappear.” Forsythe clearly found this humorous. “Most children’s parents don’t have two hundred and fifty thousand dollars lying around.” True enough, but Aidan would wager that was the only part of his story that was true. Aidan didn’t care. He’d find the girl in a week or less. He might just take an extra week on this guy’s dime to make up for the bad mojo rolling off the creepy old fart and his moldy mansion. “Does she have siblings?” “A sister and two brothers, deceased.”

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“I’m sorry.” “Thank you.” The old guy gave a tilt of his head that looked too much like a fancy shrug. “They passed away in an accident when Madeline was too young to remember them.” “Did she have a room in this house?” Forsythe nodded. “Upstairs. It’s already been searched.” “I’ll need some items of clothing.” The old guy’s brows crept up. “For my dogs,” Aidan clarified. “Dirty laundry would be best.” “Of course. Iris will show you upstairs.” He lifted a hand. Aidan sensed the woman move silently into the doorway before he turned around. More and more about this house was making his ruff rise. “Mr. Chase.” Forsythe’s call made Aidan stop. “It’s very important she isn’t damaged in any way.” The odd statement hung in the air, and Aidan didn’t respond. He followed the somber maid down a long, dark hall and up the stairs with that strange command echoing uneasily in his mind. The dour woman didn’t speak, merely opened the door with a key and left him alone. The bedroom wasn’t what he’d expected of a young heiress. It was prettily decorated in pink and white, lots of ruffles and flower prints, but other than the Acoustic Wave music player, there weren’t any expensive gizmos or personal mementos. She’d left a silver hairbrush behind. Some gold hoop earrings and a bracelet, as if she’d tossed them off before leaving and hadn’t cared enough to take them. Her jewelry box contained several more modest but quality pieces. Two media speakers sat on a small personal desk where a laptop computer could be plugged in. She’d left behind her smartphone. He’d ask the old man about the computer. Chances were she took it with her. That would be good; he could use it to find her. She’d probably bought a new phone she didn’t think could be traced. It upped the challenge but didn’t make his job impossible.

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“I’ll find you, Madeline Randall Forsythe,” he said to the empty room. Already the excitement of the hunt raced through his veins. The more lies Forsythe told, the more secrets Madeline held, the more his intrigue grew. This wouldn’t be a boring case. He opened the closet. Six or eight dresses and several chic suits hung inside. A bunch of empty hangers and the absence of casual shoes suggested she’d taken the practical stuff. He opened the white hamper on one side. The girl’s true scent wafted out, whispering around him like a living essence. Chills rose along his spine. She was pure and clean, and he sensed the first realness since entering this old house. Aidan fished out the sheer, lacy bra and matching pair of panties that sat on top of a bath towel. Another wave of chills passed over him, and it took all the willpower he had not to bring them to his nose and breathe in. For all he knew, the curmudgeon had a surveillance camera hidden somewhere in the room. Outside he climbed into his BMW X5 and shut the door, grateful for the tinted windows. He took out her panties and scented them, anxious to mark his senses with her, but mostly to wipe away the musty odor of the house and the decrepit old man. Madeline Forsythe would have done better to stick around. Her father was sick, probably terminal. He didn’t have much time left. Aidan glanced back at the dark house. Death seemed to linger within, patiently waiting like death always did. After all, no one ever escaped. Maybe what went on in there had been so bad for Madeline that even a single day more would have been too much. He turned on the car. It roared to life with a throaty rumble. He forced away his unease. It wasn’t his place to wonder. It was his place to find her; that was all.

*** Randie ran through the woods at an even pace as the first rays of sun seeped through the alders. Bursts of breath plumed in the chilly air. The wooded path made a four-mile loop, down to the lake and back. If she didn’t exercise in the morning, she’d be too tired after her shift at Dolly’s Bar and Grill, and her run just wouldn’t happen.

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Running did more than make her blood pump and her spirits rise. It kept her heart strong. Every day she survived in this life depended on keeping her heart in the best condition she could. She never ate red meat. No processed foods or excess fats. Practically no refined sugars. She ate so many leafy greens she should have fuzzy ears. It was what kept her alive, but it really wasn’t so bad. She wondered why more people didn’t improve their diet. Randie stopped to pick a burr out of her sock. Crunching in the foliage behind her stopped a moment later. Randie shot upright and whirled around. White alders were dropping their leaves, coating the forest floor in yellow. The rising sun painted everything in warm tones but caused a glare that made it hard to see through the trees. A breeze stirred the leaves, sending them dancing. Though she saw no one, Randie sensed she was not alone. She’d spent the last six months looking over her shoulder and most of the time felt silly for it. Not this morning. She turned and resumed her easy pace, now storing her energy. She might need it. The path twisted around an S curve ahead, turning toward the lake. She stopped abruptly. More footsteps in the tree litter tapered off. An animal? She worried it was a human threat, though rationally she knew she was in as much danger from a mountain lion or bear as she was one of her father’s hired knuckle-draggers. She turned forward again and took a step but halted immediately. A gray wolf stood in the path. Randie’s heart dropped into her stomach. She brought up both hands and held them out, palms flat. “No.” The wolf made a snarling sound, licking one side of its jaw. “No,” she repeated. Shit. It isn’t a dog. It probably hasn’t had obedience training. She hadn’t thought there were any wolves in Washington. She glanced around. Wolves ran in packs. She was about to become breakfast. “You don’t want to eat me. I’m all gristle.”

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To her surprise, the wolf sat on its haunches. It whined and then sneezed. It was truly a beautiful animal, but it was acting strangely. It might have been poisoned, or maybe it had rabies. Alongside her fear, Randie felt a twinge of pity. “There are hunters around this time of year. You should hightail it out of here.” Jesus, what could she do, stand out here talking to it all morning? She knew better than to turn the other way. Any act of evasion would prompt it to spring. She took a step forward and immediately regretted it as a foolish choice. But the wolf only jumped up and dashed off. She held her breath, listening to it gallop away. She knew she was safe when she glimpsed its fluffy white hindquarters disappearing through the trees over the hill. Nerves frazzled, Randie turned back toward Carol Ann’s house. The incident hadn’t been the showdown she was expecting, but it proved she’d dropped her guard. That could just as easily have been one of her father’s burly bodyguards. She found Carol Anne on the front porch drinking her morning tea. The sun had barely risen enough to dapple through the woods. “Carol Ann, you need a blanket. You’ll catch your death out here.” The older woman smiled sweetly. “I’m fine, thank you, dear. I love a brisk morning.” She looked over Randie’s cotton exercise pants and fleece jacket. “Did you enjoy your run?” Randie sat in the Adirondack beside her. “I cut it short. I saw a wolf in the woods.” “Really?” Carol Ann brightened. “That’s magnificent. I’ve heard their population was recovering. A sighting is wonderful proof.” “I didn’t realize you liked them. I thought you’d be worried. I almost didn’t mention it.” “I’m ever so glad you did. I’m not worried about them at all. I believe if people learned more about wildlife and respected it properly, we’d all get along just fine.” She had leaned closer and enunciated her point, but now she sat back and grinned. “You should probably take your runs later in the day, though. Besides, I think it’s going to snow. My, the brisk air agrees with you. You’re looking so full of vitality. I wish I had been more energetic like you when I was younger. Then maybe I wouldn’t be creaking around here on these achy old hips and knees.”

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Randie laughed. “Actually you’d probably be worse. Running isn’t exactly good for the joints.” “Well, it sure makes you fit and trim. I’m afraid when I was your age I was already plump.” It didn’t matter how creaky her joints would be later, Randie thought to herself, because she was never going to see old age. Especially if her father found her anytime soon. It was time to move on. Too bad, because she liked it here with Carol Ann. The old woman had taken her in and treated her like a daughter right from the start. Randie had met Carol Ann and her daughter-in-law, Sandra, the first day she’d arrived in Silver Creek. She’d picked up the local Penny Pincher newspaper and answered the ad for a waitress at Dolly’s Bar & Grill and was hired the next day. They were as desperate for a waitress as she was for a low-key, underthe-table job. But it was more than just a fun job and a cozy room to rent that Randie had found here. Carol Ann was like an adoptive mother; Sandra was the sister she’d never had. She’d never really known a mother’s love, and Sandra and Carol Ann were bursting with it. Moving on would be a sad thing, but Randie had resigned herself to a future of “moving ons.” “Can I get you a fresh cup of tea before I take my shower?” Carol Ann lumbered to her feet. “No, thank you, Randie. I’m coming in to the diner today. I have to get moving myself.” Randie took her arm and helped her all the way up. “We can ride in together, then.” She glanced over her shoulder as she followed Carol Ann inside. The woods were empty and quiet, but Randie still had the eerie suspicion someone was out there, watching her.

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Chapter Two Aidan had called it. He found Madeline in under one week. It hadn’t been much of a challenge for someone like him, but the fact she was using an alias and had abandoned her cell phone confirmed his suspicions that there was more going on here than was on the table. Most rebellious kids didn’t go as far as to change their names and dump everything about their old lives; they simply gave their parents the cold shoulder. Of course, most kids didn’t commit grand larceny when they took off from home either. Madeline had indeed purchased a disposable phone paid for with cash but hadn’t used it to make a single call. If she continued to call the mansion looking for Eleanor, the nanny/housekeeper who’d raised her, she stuck to her habit of using public payphones. Old Man Forsythe had not informed him of any additional calls since he’d set out. Aidan tracked her to a small town in Washington by her laptop. Her unique IP address had been picked up on a fluke—probably when she’d driven past a WiFi spot with it powered on. That had been three days ago. The computer hadn’t shown its fingerprint on the World Wide Web since. Aidan had switched cars and wardrobes to fit in and driven from Spokane to Silver Creek in a beat-up pickup truck that looked like all the others in the small town. A day into Silver Creek, one of his contacts arranged for an old army buddy to hire Aidan at Joe Wright’s, a garage that specialized in the basics like oil changes and tune-ups. Joe knew Aidan was undercover, but that was all he knew. He’d given Eldridge Forsythe a basic update and settled into his temporary life in Silver Creek.

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His first day under the hood of a ’65 Mustang that was as far from a classic as it could be, Joe shouted at him from his dingy office off the lift bay. “We’re goin’ to Dolly’s for lunch. Best apple cobbler you’ll ever taste.” Aidan wiped the oil off his fingers and went to the trough to wash up. He generally ate organic food and liked his meat so rare people around him raised their eyebrows, but while in Hickorynutville he could do like the hickory nuts. “Do they know how to whip up a decent burger?” “They make a more-than-decent burger,” Joe assured him. He turned the sign around at the front door, and the crew left on foot. “And the fries, oh man, you’ve never seen golden crispy like this,” Walt chimed in. The belly he gripped with two hands proved he’d had more than his fair share of french fries. “The friendly atmosphere is the reason I go,” Frank said. “And that little waitress, man, is she a looker.” “Frank’s had a crush on Widow Peterson for as long as any of us have known him,” Joe explained as the four of them traipsed down Main Street toward Dolly’s Bar and Grill. “I have not! That girl’s too young for me. You make me out to be some kinda perv.” “I meant Carol Ann, you dope. Not Sandra.” “Oh yeah. I guess she’s a widow too.” While life in an inkblot on the map like Silver Creek would make him insane inside a year, Aidan couldn’t deny the genuine friendliness of everyone here felt so foreign it was almost exotic. It was sweet, like one of those fancy cocktails that tastes delicious on the first glass, but a few too many would give you a one-of-a-kind hangover you’d never forget. Their foolish trust was another subject. The old guy who’d rented him the cabin hadn’t even asked for a reference. True, it was little more than a shack, but the owner had been happy with the wad of cash Aidan had plunked over for first and last month’s rent on his first day in town, before he’d even been hired on by Joe. “Anyway, I was talking about that new gal, Randie,” Frank clarified. “She’s ten different kinds of cute all rolled into one.”

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A bell rang over the door as they walked in. The restaurant bar was your typical rustic honky-tonk done in wood and brass but with a touch of modern elegance that put it one step up from the kind of place fistfights broke out on Friday nights. The long bar stretching the length of the first floor was made of hammered copper and covered with Plexiglas. Several regulars already seated leaned over and gave a wave. Judging by the logos on their hats and jackets, these were the Henderson Feedlot guys. Aidan followed his crew to the bar, and they filled the end. A colorful line of large-bulb Christmas tree lights ran above the mirror. Adjacent to the bar, three plush couches formed a seating area around a circular, free-standing hearth where a cozy fire crackled. Beyond that, a row of six booths provided a comfortable, private dining section, and in the back a pool table sat beneath a staircase leading to a spacious loft area with more table seating that looked over the front. As much as he preferred living in a bigger city, this was the kind of place he felt most comfortable. He scented her before he saw her, and Aidan’s attention snapped to the bar. Madeline Forsythe sauntered toward them at a quick pace. The noisy buzz of the restaurant vanished around him. He almost laughed. It had been too easy. “Hiya, guys.” A chorus of “Hullos” made them sound like randy schoolboys. Madeline put stars in every eye. She fished a menu out of the holder for each, even though it was right there in front of them. “Joe, the regular?” “You bet, doll.” “Frank?” “Regular.” “Walt?” “Regular.” She retrieved the menus after they all put their orders in without touching them. “And here’s a new face.” Madeline’s smile faltered when she finally met his eyes. “You wanna look at the menu?”

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Her bubbly demeanor quieted as she settled off the balls of her feet. She swallowed, looking wary. He breathed her in. She was every bit as pure as the scent left in her panties had suggested, but the essence of the girl was a thousand times more vibrant. Her photo hadn’t done her justice either. Now her eyes were bright and her smile easy, or at least it had been until she’d seen him, and her color was high and rising. She wore an oval name tag with RANDIE in curly text. Frank had been wrong. She wasn’t just ten kinds of cute rolled into one: she was downright stunning. “You got steak here?” “Corn-fed from Omaha,” she said as she filled a large glass of beer from the tap for each man. “I’ll take it rare, with veggies.” “Something from the tap for you?” “Iced tea.” A round of guffaws thundered. Frank punched him in the arm. Someone down the bar teased Joe, asking if his new mechanic wanted a pink umbrella in his drink. Randie grinned. “Coming right up.” The smile she tossed him before dashing away was only slightly brighter than that forced grin in her father’s photo. He wondered if she could tell he was up to no good. He didn’t see how, but then again Madeline “Randie” Forsythe was probably suspicious of any new face. Sleeping on a mattress stuffed with two hundred and fifty thousand stolen dollars could make the most seasoned thief nervous, and Randie was no mastermind. He almost ached with the loss of her scent, and again that overwhelming suspicion that something wrong was going on here made his stomach churn. If she’d grabbed the money to make her escape extravagant, he couldn’t tell. She worked hard as the only waitress at Dolly’s, and though she wore the uniform of jeans and a Dolly’s Tshirt, otherwise she had no girly bling. No makeup, no sculpted nails, no fancy phone clipped to her belt most girls couldn’t live five minutes without. She wore her hair pulled back in a French

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braid, and he’d be able to smell if she used fancy hair gunk. Instead, under her natural essence she carried the strawberry fragrance of cheap shampoo. The light scent of sweat only he could discern added to her wholesome appeal. Again he had to wonder, was there something unseemly about her father that made her want to run away from a princess’s life? She darted around the restaurant and back and forth behind the bar with enthusiastic energy, and Aidan could understand why she was well liked. Madeline only received help from an older woman—the owner he guessed—when their food came out all at the same time, hot and steaming. Randie, he reminded himself. If she chose to change her name, far be it from him to tell her she couldn’t. His steak was quite good, for once rare enough, and the vegetables were fresh despite the early November frost that currently put a thin crust on everything in the mornings. She refilled Joe’s beer and tossed him a glance. “How’s that steak?” “Perfect,” Aidan told her. He watched her flit around the restaurant and debated calling Old Man Forsythe. Madeline possessed what he could tell was a newfound vivacity she couldn’t possibly have had living in that musty old tomb back in New Hampshire. It almost seemed a shame to destroy it. Usually when he revealed a runaway’s whereabouts to the client, he stuck around long enough to make sure the client found their quarry where he said they would. After that, his job was done. If the target ran again, that was the client’s problem. But Randie wasn’t a minor, and her situation had already more than seized his curiosity. This time he might wait a little longer, just to be certain Randie wasn’t in any danger.

*** Randie heaved the garbage bag into the dumpster and swabbed her hands off on the dish rag she kept looped in her apron. She took out the napkin with a handful of small cubes of steak she’d cut out of the leftovers from a customer’s plate. “Ginger, kitty-kitty-kitty. Here, Ginger. I have a treat for you.”

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She waited patiently and quietly, shivering in the dusk chill. Rolling gray clouds had blocked out the sun since noon, and while that would have given the afternoon a muggy feel in New Hampshire, here the cold seemed to seek out a person’s bones. The tiniest meow rewarded her patience. The orange kitten peeked out from the narrow crevice between two empty crates. Randie knelt and smoothed out the napkin, offering the meat but making the kitten come to retrieve it. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to learn to trust me. It’s going to snow any day now, and I’m going to take you inside.” She’d wager her paycheck this poor little stray kitten had been born in spring, and the first snowfall was going to come as a nasty surprise. Ginger cautiously inched forward, tempted by the enticing aroma of corn-fed T-bone steak. The first bite turned the kitten’s purr motor on high-rev, and she allowed herself to be scratched behind the ears as she gobbled up the bits. “I’m going to snatch you up, yes I am, and take you home with me and give you a nice, cozy kitty bed. You’ll be living in the lap of luxury, yes you will.” She’d already talked to Carol Ann about the kitten. The older woman had been reluctant at first, but only because her beloved cat Elmo had died at sixteen years old the previous fall. Randie didn’t intend to bring it up again, but the next morning Carol Ann had a change of heart and told Randie to bring the kitten home as soon as she could coax it out. Ginger suddenly bounced backward with superkitty speed and flattened her ears. She let out a hiss that could scare a Rottweiler and gave Randie a start. “Ginger—” But the kitten wasn’t looking at her; its attention was focused at the end of the alley behind Randie. She shot to her feet and whirled around. A balled-up paper bag rolled past on a gust of wind. Randie placed a hand to her heart. She was overly paranoid lately, and the wolf sighting, after a similarly eerie sensation of being followed this morning, only exacerbated her tension. When she turned back, Ginger had vanished, but a man stood in the alley. Randie let out a yelp. “Brett, you scared me.”

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He moved closer in a stalking, fluid gait, like a mountain lion on the prowl. Tiny hairs rose all over her body. “Why don’t you like me, Randie?” “I like you just fine.” “I was hoping for more than ‘just fine.’” She backed away as he moved in too close for comfort. “I don’t know you well enough to know if I like you more.” He shot out a hand and snatched her around the waist. “How about we get to know each other better, then?” She pushed on his shoulders. “Hey, let go.” He leaned in, stinking of booze. Randie arched her back until she couldn’t anymore. “Write me up on a misdemeanor because I’m stealing a kiss, baby.” “What you’re going to get is a knee in the nuts if you don’t get your hands off,” Randie promised him. His eyes narrowed, but like Ginger he was staring down the alley behind her. “The lady said hands off.” “Who the fuck are you?” Brett let her go so fast she nearly fell. “I’m the law in this alley as far as you’re concerned, friend, and it isn’t a misdemeanor you’re going to get but a fist in your face.” “How about you mind your own business, friend,” Brett shot back. Randie sidled out from between them. It took her a minute to place the other man as the new guy at Joe Wright’s garage. “I don’t take kindly to hillbillies who manhandle women.” “Enough.” Randie sliced the air with a hand. “I don’t need you to do my talking for me,” she said to the other man. She turned and pointed a finger at Brett. “You don’t have permission to touch me. Got it?” Both glared at each other. Brett strode toward the other man in a slow, menacing manner. “And I don’t take kindly to nosy bodies who poke into my business.”

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He threw a punch. Randie covered her mouth to smother a scream. Even though she knew she should run back inside for help, her feet were frozen to the ground. The other man caught Brett’s fist in his hand. For a moment both struggled, unwilling to be the first to back down. Brett fell to his knees. He grunted, and it turned to a howl of pain. Her rescuer released him. “Wanna try again?” Brett cradled his crushed hand. “Screw you.” He scrambled to his feet and hurried off with an uneasy glance over his shoulder. Randie let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She probably wouldn’t see Brett for a while, but when she did, his mood would surely be foul. Her rescuer took a cautious step closer. “Are you okay?” She hugged her arms in front of her chest. “I’m…I’m fine.” He moved into the pool of light from the single lamp over the door. “Um, I was just walking by, and I heard the scuffle from the street.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder as if to explain that street. She nodded, realizing she was as goggle-eyed as she had been earlier today when he’d had lunch with Wright’s group. Lordy, he was tall and built very nicely: broad in the shoulders and narrow in the hips. His pale blue eyes made a striking combination with his chiseled good looks. He wore a friendly smile, but there was something dangerous about him, probably inspired by the scar that crossed his eyebrow and nicked his cheekbone, as if someone had slashed at him with a knife. “I’m Aidan Chase.” He extended his hand. “Official new guy in town.” “We have something in common, then. I’m…Randie Smith, official new girl in town.” Damn, she’d almost said Maddie. His grip was firm, his hand warm, and his touch brought an instant sense of safety. “Oh yeah? Where are you from?” He held on to her hand, but it didn’t seem inappropriate. “Back east,” she said simply. He released his grip, and their hands slid apart. “By your accent, I’d say…Massachusetts. No, Vermont.”

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She smiled while a zing of nerves danced in her belly. She hadn’t thought people could pin her by her accent. “Good guess,” she said noncommittally. “You?” “Utah. Colorado. Wherever the military wanted to send me. I, uh, Joe is my uncle. My mother asked me to hang around a while, make sure he’s okay.” He had a really nice face, she decided. “I can tell you had some kind of formal training. You handled him very…diplomatically.” He laughed, and warmth spread through Randie. His smile was wonderful. As much as she wanted to prove her independence—to others and to herself—there was something magical about a handsome, heroic man coming to her rescue. Aidan was certainly well stocked in both areas. “Sorry for snapping at you.” He held up both hands. “No problem.” “Thanks, then. Nice to meet you, Aidan.” She was about to suggest he come into Dolly’s for a free beer when his expression went tense. He looked up over the fence separating Dolly’s alley from Weekday Hardware. His nostrils flared as though scenting something dangerous she hadn’t noticed. “Go inside, Randie.” He took a step in the direction Brett had run off. Tension wound tight in Randie again. “Did he come back? Should I call the police?” He shot her a look. She sucked in a breath. For a second…it almost looked as if his eyes had gleamed. “No.” The tension left his expression, but she could tell his smile was forced. “Just go inside.”

Aidan teetered on the verge of shifting, but above the scent of his enemy he smelled that shitty cologne Faulkner always wore. The other werewolf was still in human form. Aidan’s clothes were binding, and the need to run on all fours coiled hotly in every muscle. He resisted the overpowering urge to shift, jogging on two legs to the street that all the alleys

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connected to behind their shops. Following Faulkner’s scent, he turned right. Across the street, the small houses mostly owned by shopkeepers were just beginning to flicker with light. Evening had come early today because of the building storm. A figure passed at the opposite end of an alley, flanking him. It was only a silhouette, but the curved shoulders and loping gait were as familiar as an old pair of shoes. Aidan stopped, listening. The running footsteps turned and angled toward him in the next alley. Faulkner was going to cut him off. Aidan stepped into the alley at his right. He unzipped his leather jacket and leaned back against a stack of crates. If he needed it, the blade on his hip was within easy reach. Faulkner rounded the corner, grinning like the Cheshire cat. Aidan stared back, not amused. “Are you following me?” “I could ask you the same question. You tell me, who’s got more reason to follow the other?” “You saying you have business in Silver Creek?” Faulkner laughed. “I have business anywhere the hunting’s good and the females are young and pretty.” Aidan smothered a flash of dread. Faulkner was a mean son of a bitch who brought misery into every life he touched. “Speaking of young and pretty, who was that little morsel?” “Who? The waitress?” Aidan shrugged, pretending ignorance. “I dunno.” “Yeah, right.” Faulkner laughed again, only this time it was sinister. He circled Aidan slowly, sizing him up. Aidan stayed where he was and held tight to his cool. Human or wolf, Faulkner would never be able to take him, but the man’s presence had the power to reanimate memories better left dead and unhinge the grip he held on his deepest emotions. “And what brings you to the fair town of Silver Creek, bounty hunter?” Faulkner asked in a snide tone. “You wouldn’t be wasting time in a shithole like this if it didn’t mean business.” “My business doesn’t concern you, so stay the fuck out of it.” “You’re on the hunt, just like me.” Faulkner seemed amused. “I hear you’re looking for a rich runaway this time.”

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“And where’d you hear that?” “You’d be surprised what you can hear if you pay the right price.” Aidan’d had enough. “Leave town, mongrel.” Faulkner snickered. “Can’t do it. Got me the scent of some tasty poor-little-rich-girl pussy.” A flash of anger colored everything in Aidan’s vision red. He was right; Faulkner was here to screw up this case or to screw with Aidan through this case. Even though he understood Faulkner was intentionally provoking him, it had worked. He advanced with clenched fists, trying unsuccessfully to force away sickening memories of their tragic past. “You’re a wanted man, Faulkner. Stay in town one more day, and I will report you to the council.” Faulkner darted back, still pacing around Aidan in a semicircle. “You’re awfully righteous for a man once considered just as guilty as me. You were the one found with the body, yet I was the suspect. How did you manage that?” “Don’t,” Aidan warned. “Don’t what, Alpha? Bring up how you got Isabella killed and me cast out? You turned me into a fugitive from my own kind.” “The council made its own decision. You’re still wanted for questioning. Maybe I’ll bring you in myself.” Faulkner sprang onto the fence, looking more lupine than human. He leaped onto the roof of the next building, leaving his taunt to be snatched away by a frosty gust of wind. “Haven’t caught me yet, brother.”

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Chapter Three Aidan considered going after him. There was nothing he’d like better than to rip out the bastard’s throat. But his thoughts were jumbled, his concentration frayed. He was liable to make a mistake. And he couldn’t risk exposing his kind to these innocent townspeople. He’d have the backing of the council when he brought in the werewolf’s head. Faulkner’s insinuations ate at him, right along with memories of the woman they’d both loved and lost. Isabella hadn’t loved Faulkner back. She’d rejected him before Aidan chose her. Their love had sprung out of desperation, been built on sincerity. As pack leader, Aidan had the privilege and authority to claim her. Thinking the only consequences would be an irate pack member, he’d done so without hesitation. He’d never dreamed Faulkner would murder her. He would never forget that cold day in December three years ago, when he held her battered body, her blood staining the pristine snow around her. The haunting sound of the whispering Wyoming wind mourning with him. Faulkner had never been found guilty. Without any real evidence, he’d never even been charged. But he’d been so universally condemned by his kind that he’d fled, ostracized by most and quietly suspected by all the rest. Officially Isabella’s murder was still under investigation by the council. Unofficially the case was closed based on lack of evidence. Aidan drew a deep breath and turned in a circle. The scent of snow hung on the air. Silver Creek reminded him too much of Lodge Pine, Randie too much of Isabella. He would have called Eldridge Forsythe immediately if Faulkner’s insinuations hadn’t included Randie. If something about the girl hadn’t sparked intrigue in him so bright and hot it burned in his gut. Something about her beauty and innocence inspired a bone-deep need to protect that he couldn’t ignore.

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He’d rather get the girl out of town, give himself the freedom to deal with Faulkner without her as an obstacle between them. But now he knew that wouldn’t make her safe. His case for Forsythe had just become intertwined with his past. And whether from her father or Faulkner, or both, Randie was definitely in some sort of danger. Faulkner’s insinuation about this case made him certain the recent problems at his agency were from a leak on the inside. No one outside his team knew about this case. He had to put just as much attention to the leak in his office as he did to Randie Forsythe, and that would be difficult, if not impossible. She was already a distraction. Her pretty face was etched across his brain, her sweet voice already a thing of fantasy. Aidan walked the narrow path between one of the houses and onto a pedestrian trail. He followed a narrow creek until he came to a footbridge connecting to a trail into the woods. Once over the creek, he stepped off into the shadows and shed his clothes. The icy air bit at his naked flesh, but the instant he shifted, it became just enough to refresh him. He bolted into the woods and ran toward the rising moon.

*** Randie squinted through the sleeting snow peppering the windshield, wishing she’d been telling the truth when she told Sandra she’d wait until morning to leave. The blizzard seemed to have gotten worse the minute she’d hit the main road leading out of town, and she could hardly see ten feet in front of the car. Knowing she’d overstayed Silver Creek, she’d made her decision to leave as soon as she’d captured the kitten from the alley, introduced it to Carol Ann, and saw that they were going to live happily ever after together. That had happened sooner than she’d thought it would, and it proved a blessing. She’d sealed up eight hundred dollars in an envelope with a note explaining she had to go home to a sick parent and wanted to be sure her room was paid for the next two months. She’d given Sandra the same story about a sick parent. She hated flaking out on the woman who had so generously given her a job without references, but even more so because Sandra had become such a good friend. It was a horrible time to leave, with one of the salmon seasons

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opened a month ago and several hunting seasons opening next week. Tourism was the town’s main economy, and it was about to be booming. Even though she’d only been in town four months, it had come to feel like home. Her father’s mansion certainly never had. Carol Ann was so incredibly sweet and supportive, even though Randie knew the woman suspected her story wasn’t entirely honest. Carol Ann had undoubtedly seen through her vague explanations but accepted her nonetheless. And her delicious rescuer, Aidan Chase. He was new to town, just like she was, and thus she felt an affinity with him. But there was more to it than that, and she couldn’t deny a good amount of attraction as well. He wasn’t just your average good-looking but in fact something topping the scale. She’d felt him watching her the week he’d come in for lunch with the Joe Wright garage crew, and he’d even had dinner there twice, alone. She’d learned from Sandra he’d rented Zeb Green’s cottage on Pike’s Ridge. She glanced at the black wall of ponderosa pine off the narrow road leading out of town. She couldn’t see the ridge of course, but driving past gave her a melancholy pang. She’d never know what might have developed between them if she’d been a normal person with a normal past. A normal girl without a murderous father. A four-legged flash of gray soared past her windshield. Randie screamed and swerved into the snow-filled gully. The car lurched with a crunching sound and careened sharply downhill, planting itself in the deep snow at a tilt. The already sickly ten-year-old Honda sputtered and died. “Shit.” She turned the key, but the engine only choked. Even if it started, the car was pitched so steeply in the gully she would never be able to drive it out. The heater barely worked, and the frozen night instantly robbed the car of its heat. She turned the ignition off as sickening reality draped over her like a wet, cold blanket. She was woefully unprepared for inclement weather. No one even knew she was out here. And that had looked like a wolf leaping in front of her car.

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She pulled the cell phone from her center console and stared at it in her hand. She hadn’t used it, or her laptop, since coming to Silver Creek. Her location could be pinpointed by the phone, if her father had learned she’d bought one. Undoubtedly he had. He had resources that could make most people’s eyes cross. Freeze to death…use the phone. Freeze to death…use the phone. She’d heard freezing to death was almost painless, once hypothermia hit. But her life was already destined to be short enough. She wanted to fight for whatever time she had left. She hit the Power button. The cheap phone warbled to life and spent several minutes searching for its network. Finally NO SERVICE filled the screen in unfriendly red letters. “It figures.” She glanced out the window. Maybe someone would come along. She wore only her crosstrainers, jeans, and a sweater. And there was a hungry wolf out there. Walking was suicidal, but it was better than sitting here waiting to turn into a Popsicle. She grabbed her flannel shirt from the backseat and shrugged into it. She hit the Call button on the phone again, one last try before setting out. Someone knocked on the passenger window. Randie screamed and dropped the phone. “Need some help?” “Aidan, oh my God.” Her phone tumbled between her legs and hit the floor, but she didn’t trust taking her eyes off him. What sane person would be out here in near blizzard conditions? She half expected him to be carrying a giant axe. He tried the handle. “You want to unlock the door?” His voice was muffled through the glass. “What are you doing out here?” “I heard you go off the road.”

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She glanced past him at the row of trees set back from the road by a snowy span that last week had been a meadow dotted with late summer flowers. Behind that, Pike’s Ridge rose like the Matterhorn. She fished the cell phone off the floor. NO SERVICE. Damn thing. “You got a tow truck coming?” She shook her head. Flipped the locks. He pulled the door open. Freezing air rushed in. “No service.” “My place isn’t far. You can use my phone.” She glanced at the duffel sitting on top of her laptop case in the backseat. Better leave it. No sense making explanations. And it didn’t matter how good-looking he was; she didn’t know this man. She was safer if he didn’t know Sandra and Carol Ann believed she was leaving town. If something happened to her, they’d never know it. She was acting paranoid, but after all that had happened in the last year, she had a right. Randie pushed her door open, no easy feat as the driver’s side was tilted crazily uphill. She sank to her knees in the deep snow. The door fell shut, knocking her back across the car. In the five steps it took her to round the rear end of her car, her jeans had soaked to the thighs. “If I can just get pulled out…” “You went through the guardrail.” He pointed. Her right front fender was crunched in. “How do you think I heard it?” Through the thickening snowflakes, she thought she saw a flicker in his eyes. Like that night in the alley, it almost appeared they gleamed like an animal’s in the wash of headlights. She shook her head, sure she’d imagined it. She was on edge, and wrecking her car hadn’t improved her emotional state. “Here, take my jacket.” He started shrugging out. “You keep it. I’m fine.” She hugged herself, already half frozen. “How far is it?” “Just up the hill. There’s a path once we’re across the meadow.”

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A bitter cold gust of wind made her sway. He steadied her with an arm across her shoulders, and she grasped his free hand. Her first step sank knee-deep, coating her leg and filling her shoe with snow. “What were you thinking, coming out on a night like this without a jacket?” “I wasn’t.” Her hair blew across her face, making her wish for a hat as well. Her lungs were burning by the time they reached the path in the trees where the snow wasn’t as deep. Thankfully the tree line cut some of the frigid wind, but Randie was already chilled to the bone. “It’s a hike,” he warned. He wasn’t kidding. The trail suddenly angled up at a sharp incline. Running kept her in good shape, but she hated taxing her heart without a proper warm-up. A snap of wood made her whip around. “There’s a wolf out here. It ran in front of my car.” He tensed. His arm still around her, he turned her forward and pulled her closer. “We’re okay. Come on, let’s keep moving.” Once the hike warmed her up, she started sweating and shivering. She didn’t realize how dizzy she’d become until she tripped and fell. Aidan tried to help her up, but the world twisted, and Randie found herself sprawled on her back looking up at a black sky salted with snowflakes. “Randie—” “I don’t feel so good.” “It’s all right. I’ve got you.” He scooped her up like she weighed nothing. Her vision spun, and she closed her eyes, leaning her head against his chest. His warmth fed into her. She said a prayer of thanks when she saw the rust red truck. The right front wheel was missing, and the truck was supported on a block. His footsteps stomped on wood, and she felt them rise up the steps to a porch. She sensed the darkness of an overhang, and then they were inside glorious warmth and light. He set her down on the couch. “Did you hit your head when you went off the road?” He peered into her eyes intently.

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“No.” “Are you sure?” She realized he wanted to know why she’d nearly passed out. “I’m okay. Sometimes when I exert myself without warming up, I get dizzy.” When he continued to stare at her with a skeptical expression, she nodded. “I’m fine.” “I’ll run you a bath.” Randie struggled upright. “No need, really. I’m better now, thanks.” Her stomach twisted. She swallowed, forbidding herself from throwing up. “You’re half frozen. It’ll take the chill off.” He grinned. “Don’t worry, I scrubbed the tub earlier today.” Light flicked on in the hall he disappeared into, and a squeaky faucet led to gushing water. She steadied herself on the couch, realizing she was dripping snowmelt on a neat oval rug. A small table between the couch and the low burning fire held a nearly empty cup of coffee and a book set open side down to hold its place. He was reading a Lee Child thriller. She touched the mug. Lukewarm. Suddenly she felt bad for her suspicions. Her stupidity had called him away from a cozy fire, hot cup of coffee, and a good book, and she’d looked at him like he was an axe murderer. “I put a towel by the tub, and I’ll dig up some sweats for you. I don’t have laundry machines, but the fire should dry your clothes.” He tossed two small logs on the fire and knelt before her. “Let’s get you into the bath.” He scooped her up again, making the world spin. “I can walk now, really,” she protested. “We’re here.” The bath was behind the kitchen, opposite the single bedroom. It really was a tiny cabin. He set her down. “Toss your clothes out in the hall, and I’ll put them in front of the fire.” Like the rest of the house, the bathroom was clean and uncluttered. A framed mirror hung over the pedestal sink. A wicker over-the-toilet storage cabinet matched the white paint and tile. The towels and a thick bathmat were deep red, and the shower curtain bunched at the end of an oval rod was a clear and black checkered pattern. Nice, for a guy.

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Steam rose from the oversize antique claw-foot, looking so inviting Randie nearly moaned. “Aidan, thank you.” “I’ll call Elmer’s, see if I can get a tow truck out here tonight.” He smiled before closing the bathroom door with a crisp snick that told her the latch was solid. She itched to lock the knob but knew he would hear and probably consider it rude. She undressed and wrapped herself in a towel before opening the door to put her jeans and flannel shirt out in the hall. She could hear Aidan in the kitchen, talking on the phone. Her sweater and the cotton shirt she’d worn underneath were still dry, so she kept those with her. Randie sank into the hot water and breathed out a long, pleased sigh. Almost too hot, it prickled her skin deliciously. She’d been shivering from the cold; now she shivered from pleasure. Her hands and feet began to throb as warmth returned. She dropped her braid outside the rim and leaned her head back. An odd sense of peace rolled over her. Aside from Aidan, no one on planet earth knew where she was at this moment. The emotional weight of that shook her core. Randie wrapped her arms around herself as tears threatened. Aidan might be a mystery, but the danger her father presented was a certainty. At least here he couldn’t possibly find her. Not even at Carol Ann’s had she been safe. Most people in town knew she worked at Dolly’s, and those who knew she worked at Dolly’s knew she lived with Carol Ann. That meant she could be found there. She took a deep breath and wiped the tears with wet hands. Six months on the run had taken a harder toll on her than she wanted to admit, but she couldn’t lie to herself. She was scared. Ever since she’d learned the truth about her father, her future had looked more and more bleak, building in her heart like a growing storm that suddenly broke. In all the running, she’d been so focused on the flight that she never considered what would happen if he found her. The water grew cool, and Randie’s fingers pruned. She climbed out of the tub and wrapped herself in the fluffy towel that smelled slightly of lemon. She found the pair of sweats folded neatly in the hallway beside the door.

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Aidan filled the mouth of the hallway, broad shoulders all but blocking out the light from the main room. “Boyd can’t get your car until the morning.” She nodded, clutching the towel tighter around herself. In a way it was a relief. She’d slid into a fuzzy comfort here, and paired with the raw sexual heat coming off yummy Aidan Chase, she was content to stay at least until the anxiety from driving her car off the road faded. Maybe longer. He towered over her, making the hardwood floor creak with each step nearer. The intensity of this suddenly intimate situation made her heart race. His eyes were heavy-lidded as he took her in, wrapped in nothing more than his towel, and she knew he felt it too. “You can sleep on the sofa. It’s a pullout.” Another step. His nostrils flared, as if he was breathing in her scent. “Or I can take it and let you have the bedroom.” He was immediately in front of her now, but still easing closer. “Or…we can share the bedroom.”

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Chapter Four Aidan leaned in, eyes closed. His sexual potency pulled at her like a drug. His lips hovered over the sensitive skin just behind her ear, not touching, but so close she could feel the heat of his breath. “Your choice.” She sensed a double meaning in those words and felt instantly put at ease. She’d been ready to agree before, but his saying it sealed the deal. She tilted her head back, letting herself imagine what it would be like to spend the night in his bed. Six months ago she never would have let herself fall into this situation. But six months ago she’d been a different girl. She’d been a girl who’d spent her life trying to satisfy a father who would never be pleased. Even so, she’d been a good girl, got good grades, never got in trouble, behaved like a perfect, mannered little miss. Six months ago, life as she knew it was shattered by lies and deceit. It was time to stop being that good little girl. She turned her head and touched her lips to his. For a moment they each hovered there, barely touching, neither moving. His fingertips brushed her jaw, but still he waited. Randie opened her mouth and surged forward in a kiss she didn’t know she was capable of. His mouth was sweet, his response generous and gentle. The sliver of reluctance she’d felt vanished. He pulled her closer, hooked his hands under her bottom, and lifted her onto his hips. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Their kiss turned hot, and Randie felt newfound need rushing out of her. Aidan carried her easily to the bedroom, leaned over the bed and yanked the blankets down. He bent over, set her down, and stood back to look at her.

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Suddenly it felt real. I’m going to let him have me. My first time, with sexy stud Aidan Chase. She unfastened the tucked corner of the towel and pulled it free. He took it from her and threw it over a chair. He paused, raking over her naked body with a hungry gaze. His slow, sultry smile made her feel beautiful. A hot rush of delight prickled her skin and tightened her nipples almost excruciatingly. He dragged his shirt over his head and revealed a glorious chest cut with muscle. His gaze scorched her as he toed off his shoes and shoved his jeans over his hips. He was bare beneath, and there was no doubting his arousal. She’d never seen an actual naked man before and thought to herself, things are bigger than they appear in photos. Randie’s emotions soared as he knelt on the bed and crawled closer. Excitement made her breath hot, but she didn’t feel a bit of uncertainty. He reached for her braid and pulled off the elastic band fastening it. Randie shook her hair loose. “You’re beautiful.” His voice was low and dangerous. She melted into the bed. His hand found her shoulder, slid down her arm. He pressed his body to hers, warm skin causing an explosion of sensation. His chest was firm and hard, his thighs hairy and exotic against her own softness. His cock pointed straight up against his belly, throbbing with his heartbeat. She had waited much too long for an experience like this but was glad she had. Aidan made it perfect. Aidan was perfect. The kiss he pressed to her lips was slow and gentle. His mouth turned urgent as he trailed to her jaw and down her throat. She let her hands brush over his shoulders as he traveled down, down, down, dropping featherlight kisses the entire way. Her world spun as every touch ignited a thousand tingles of bliss. She felt dizzy again, but this time in a good way. Was she so inexperienced a mere kiss turned her to jelly? Or was Aidan especially gifted? She’d never even been to first base, and here she was naked beneath an outrageously virile man she hardly knew. The idea alone was enough to send her reeling. She’d

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always been so shy, but at this moment, feeling his hands on her, nothing hidden from his roving gaze, she felt so incredibly right it was like being transformed into a different person. Yes, she was inexperienced, but somehow she knew Aidan was special. She could feel it in his slow tenderness and the restraint he showed in exploring her. His touch was generous, as if he cared more for her pleasure than his own. Randie gasped when his lips closed over her nipple. She arched her back as he sucked on it with a series of delightful tugs. His teeth razed, sending a zing that ricocheted through her whole body. He soothed the sting with a flick of his tongue. He slid his arms behind her back and lifted her toward him, bringing them into intense contact as he switched to the other nipple. His erection brushed her hip and rested against her thigh, unbelievably huge and hard. Each exquisite suck, nibble, and lick of his clever tongue sent bolts of rampant delight shooting between her legs. She was hot down there and very wet. These were unfamiliar sensations, but Aidan’s intense attention kept her from feeling embarrassed. She was glad he would know she ached for him. She reached between them and grasped his shaft. He froze, staring back at her. His pale blue eyes gleamed like ice. “I’m not on birth control.” He yanked open the drawer of the bedside table so ferociously items on its surface rattled. Gold foil flashed as he tore open the condom wrapper with his teeth. He sheathed himself and fell on her with urgency. “Too fast for you, sweetheart?” “No. Take me, Aidan.” His fingers found her first. He smiled when he discovered her wetness. She closed her eyes and sighed as he explored her with a magic touch. He slid the tip of one finger inside, while at the same time he offered a soft kiss, as if to thank her for giving herself. Right now she didn’t feel like she was giving but taking. The sensation was exquisite, making her ache desperately for more. She needed to feel him inside her

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so badly, needed him to help her banish that naive, innocent girl she’d been six months ago. Needed not only for him to make her a woman, but a woman she could respect. He shifted his body, rising higher over her with strong arms and a solid chest. She’d never felt so protected, so safe. She cradled him between her thighs, loving the feel of his hips forcing her wide. Aidan bent to gently bite her neck. Thickness touched and pushed against the entrance to her body. A flash of white-hot fear burst in her vision, but only because she was afraid she couldn’t accept him. He was built like a bronze statue. He breached her and slid into her slick channel with a forceful thrust. She clenched her jaw and fought the wince of pain, pulling at his shoulders just in case he saw it anyway. His cock was like granite. For a moment he was too large and too solid; then the heaviness claiming her turned glorious. She felt magnificently conquered, no longer a prisoner of her old life, but permanently branded by her new. He was incredibly huge, almost frighteningly so, but Randie breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t a virgin anymore. Even if this was a one-night thing, her first time would always be his.

The scent of blood made his pulse roar. He should have realized when he slid his finger into her unbelievably tight pussy, and if not then, when she gasped at the intrusion of his cock breaching her body. Even if he hadn’t smelled the blood, he’d have figured it out now, gripped so firmly in her tight channel. “You’re a virgin.” Jesus, what had he done? Her father’s odd statement echoed like the moan of a ghost. “It’s very important she isn’t damaged in any way.” “Not anymore I’m not.” She closed her eyes and caught her breath when he shifted, trying to get his bearings. He should stop now, even though the damage was already done. Impossible. Stopping would probably kill him. “Oh my God.”

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My sentiments exactly, sweetheart. “It feels so wonderful.” Wonderful? As though his cock had a mind of its own, he was still pushing deeper, rolling his hips to press gently in and out of her. “I didn’t know it would feel so…incredible.” She dragged her nails across his back and lifted her legs higher, as if to pull him into herself. She must have felt his body go still, because her brow furrowed, and the sound that came out of her was pure desperation. “Please don’t stop.” “Randie…” “Please, Aidan.” Above the rich tang of blood was a more primal scent as her entire body reacted to his possession. His senses had been chaotic ever since she entered his cabin, and even now he resisted accepting what he already knew—that Madeline Randall Forsythe was somehow special to him. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed in the wolf-mate legend, as he’d never experienced it himself and chalked up other werewolves’ claims as simply falling in love. He hadn’t felt it with Isabella, even though he’d cared deeply for the person, and the wolf, that she’d been. There was definitely something powerful here. It might have been his contract with Randie’s father that brought them into proximity, but it was her pureness and his need that brought them together as lovers. If destiny had a scent, it would smell like this. Heat raced to the tip of his cock, and his will to resist trickled away. He gave a thrust that made her cry out. Her skin flushed rosy; her panting grew in volume. She shifted her grip from his shoulders to his ass, pulling him deeper into herself. He thrust again, loving the way her body received his force.

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She opened her eyes. “More.” Not a plea but a demand. He obliged, bending to take the delicate flesh of her throat in a gentle bite again, succumbing to the pull of his lupine heart. Their bodies grew moist with sweat, and the bed creaked under the force of his hips. Orgasm ripped through him, but it was stained with the underlying regret her first time would give her no pleasure, only pain. When they finally lay still, Aidan lifted his head. She turned hers, eyes closed, and sighed. “Thank you.” Now he felt like a total dirtbag. He rolled away to deal with the rubber, then rose to get a warm cloth for her. Jesus, how had he managed to fuck up this job like none other? His reputation was on the line more than the payment. He could live without Forsythe’s fee, but it just wasn’t like him to get involved. With a target, no less. He paused in the doorway. The washcloth in his hand steamed in the cool air. Randie lay on her side faced away from him, her smooth body a landscape of curves and valleys. Her skin was pale, showing the subtle bikini lines from a leftover tan. “Are you okay?” She smiled over her shoulder, looking sultry like a 1930s movie starlet. “Perfect.” “Here. This will help.” He crawled in behind her and pressed the warm rag between her legs. She really hadn’t bled much; in fact, an ordinary man might never have realized he’d just deflowered an innocent if she didn’t volunteer it. Randie didn’t seem curious as to how he knew, and he didn’t say. He tossed the rag onto the floor and dragged the blanket over them as he spooned up behind her. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She sighed. “I’m sorry.” She grasped the hand he circled her with. “I just… I needed you.” He settled behind her on the pillow, now past the point of regret and snowballing into guilt. “I could have made it better.”

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“Better than that?” Her voice held a smile. He found himself smiling in return. “Yes, better than that.” She squeezed his hand. “Show me later.”

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Chapter Five Good thing he had a supply of condoms. Aidan lay awake long into the night, even though he hadn’t shifted in days. He could survive on brief, predawn catnaps for almost a week if he shifted every day. Each transition refreshed him, leaving him awake and invigorated. The sky cleared enough to see the quarter moon outside his window as it began its descent across the sky. By her breathing, he could tell Randie slept lightly. He rose slowly and dragged the blanket over her. After picking up the discarded washcloth, he padded naked to the bathroom. He closed the door quietly and flushed the toilet, waiting until the tank refilled before opening it again. He peeked in on Randie once more to be sure she was still sleeping, then crept naked to the mudroom at the end of the hall. Once inside he relocked the door to the small room and stashed the key. He shifted and slipped out the doggy door into the cold night. The sensation brought him alive. He especially loved winter. All kinds of running thrilled him, but there was something special about the feel of snow under his bare paws. It took him under two minutes to run down to the wrecked car. She’d left the doors unlocked, so he wagered he could open the trunk using an inner release lever. He shifted back to human form, gritting his teeth against the freezing wind swirling around his naked skin. Biting pain instantly seized his bare feet. A stuffed duffel bag sat on top of her laptop case, confirming his suspicions. Randie had been leaving town. He checked it quickly but found only clothes. He knelt on the passenger seat to get his feet out of the snow and reached over to release the trunk latch. A couple inches of snow had fallen on the wounded car, but the latch popped

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open, and the trunk lid lifted easily. He hurried around to the rear. An assortment of junk including old road maps for the state of Kentucky and an umbrella that had seen better days scattered the back. Underneath the trunk liner, a full-size spare tire. No suitcase full of money. Then again, he hadn’t expected to find one. Aidan slammed the trunk shut and shifted, instantly grateful for his fur coat. He ran back up the ridge trail, blood pounding in his veins. When he slipped in the doggy door and shifted again, his human body was warm with the exertion of running in wolf form. Randie still slept on her side, facing away from the door. He eased in beside her, oddly comforted by the fact he hadn’t found the money. Her skin reacted to his touch, pebbling in the path left by his hand, nipples turning rigid despite the added heat given off by his body. She breathed heavily and eased back against him. He urged her over with a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were open, their amber irises gold in the low light. “I was afraid I dreamed it.” Tingles rushed from head to toe. No doubt about it, this woman was special. Already the idea of someone else touching her sparked a possessive glint inside him. “Open for me.” She lifted her hands over his shoulders. God, how he loved the scent of sleep on humans— this human in particular. She carried his scent as though branded. The idea pleased him and made him yearn to do it again. He sheathed himself and eased between her legs. Even through the condom, her heat beckoned him. He kissed her jaw, cheek, and lips as he slid inside her achingly slow. “Oh.” She breathed out the oath as he seated himself in her channel, a perfect fit. “Are you hurting?” “Just… No.” He rolled his hips, enjoying the pleased sound she made. “It feels so nice to be filled this way,” she said, almost a purr. “So amazing to have you inside me.”

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He moved slowly, reveling in the heady awareness of their powerful link. She wouldn’t recognize it yet, being both human and innocent, but for him it was unmistakable. “More.” She breathed out a slow sigh. “Oh yes.” She came awake and alive beneath him. Her pussy grew hotter around his cock, her body turning pliant as her arousal grew. She lifted her legs and dug her fingers into the small of his back, urging him deeper. He moved forward and put the strength of his entire body into his thrusts, pounding into her with a primal need that felt foreign and bittersweet. Never before had he been so perfectly linked with another. He matched her cries with every plunge home until they were both locked in wild throes more animal than human. He erupted powerfully, as in tune with her body as his own. When he collapsed on top of her, she continued writhing beneath him as if seeking some plateau of pleasure she’d only neared. When he’d lost his own virginity at fifteen with a woman well into her thirties, she’d been sweetly patient with his clumsiness and explained orgasms were different from ejaculations. He hadn’t really understood what she meant until later in life when he’d learned the difference firsthand. She’d told him it was the same, if not more so, for women, and that had stuck with him. Orgasms were learned things, and she’d never heard of a girl who experienced orgasm her first time. Unless Randie had masturbated and understood her body’s pleasure threshold, she wouldn’t be orgasming anytime soon. Knowing Randie was a virgin was both a happy idea and a sad one. His selfish side was glad to be her first, but the honorable part of him was sad he’d taken advantage of her under false pretenses. Randie wouldn’t be happy with him when she learned the true reason he was here. And he still had her father to deal with. Randie finally lay still beneath him. He eased gently out of her body. If she wasn’t sore before, she probably would be now. She cuddled up to his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, contented by the feel of her deep, even breaths as she slipped back into sleep.

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He didn’t know her well at all but felt he did know her enough to seriously doubt she had stolen over two hundred thousand dollars from her father. If she had, there had to be extenuating circumstances. Maybe she blamed her father for her mother’s death. All Aidan knew for certain was this whole thing rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn’t his business to get involved; he had a job to do. This feeling of powerlessness frustrated him. If he’d been thinking with the big head, he’d forget the effect her sexy little bod had on him and call Old Man Forsythe. Thinking with the little head didn’t make the situation any clearer, and neither could he bring himself to ditch this case. Regardless of his ultimate decision, he couldn’t look the other way if an injustice was being dealt. He was about to break his number one rule: don’t get involved. He’d gotten nasty vibes off that old man and only the most scintillating vibes off this sweet girl. The least he could do was get to the bottom of this before he revealed her whereabouts to her father. Aidan awoke at six feeling as if he’d just caught up on a week’s worth of missed sleep. Randie still snored lightly beside him, one fist curled under her chin. He rose and dressed quietly. The fire in the living room was nothing but glowing embers behind the protective curtains of chain mail. He threw two logs on and helped them catch with a knot of newspaper. Her socks felt dry, and he flipped her jeans around to make sure the backs of the legs weren’t still damp. Sex made him sleep like the dead, and it also left him hungrier than usual. He didn’t have much in the kitchen, but a carton of eggs that hadn’t passed its expiration date and a few salvageable vegetables would make a nice omelet. He got everything ready and started a pot of coffee and some toast. The scents must have worked because moments later he heard Randie in the bathroom. She emerged wearing the sweats he’d set out for her last night and her own shirts. “That smells wonderful.” She sat on the couch and put on her dry socks. “I hope that toothbrush in the package on the sink was for me.” “I thought you might appreciate it. Nothing makes me feel more human than brushing my teeth.”

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She moved to the stool opposite the small counter separating the kitchen from the main room. “Coffee?” he offered. “No thanks. Can’t stand the stuff.” He sliced the giant omelet in half and slid the halves out onto two plates. “Sorry, I don’t have any tea.” “Don’t apologize for a thing. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.” She took a bite of the omelet. “Wow.” “I have food sensitivities,” he said as a vague way of explaining his werewolf’s heightened sense of smell and taste. “I only eat organic and unprocessed food.” “More people should. It’s healthier. This is delicious, by the way. You can cook me breakfast anytime.” She dipped her head and took a bite of toast as her cheeks flooded pink, as if she’d just realized the implications of what she’d said. “Look, Randie, I want you to know, if I’d known you were a virgin, I never would have been so forward with you.” Her whiskey-colored eyes caught the bright morning reflecting off the snow outside the tiny kitchen window and seemed to glow like amber in sunlight. “Then I’m glad I didn’t tell you.” She set her fork down. “You look like you might regret what we did last night. You shouldn’t, Aidan. I’m a big girl. I knew what I was doing.” “Still, I feel like you should have been treated better your first time.” Lord, he hoped at least he hadn’t growled last night. She laughed, surprising him. “There you go again talking about doing it better. You know what? I thought it was really nice.” Her cheeks bloomed with two ruddy spots. “I can’t believe I’m talking about this.” He laughed with her, trying to make her feel at ease. “See, you are innocent.” She took a deep breath as her laughter faded to a pretty smile. “You’ll have to change that.”

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This was the most outrageous flirting he’d ever done, but oddly he was enjoying himself. “I don’t know, I kind of like it. You’re sweet, Randie. It’s a nice quality.” He picked up her empty plate. And because he knew she was trying to leave town, and also because he understood an innocent girl’s fragile ego needed it, he added, “I’d like to see you again.” Aidan dumped their plates in the sink and turned to face her. “Well, um…” Randie balled her napkin in her fist, avoiding his eyes. She was formulating an excuse; he could see it in her squirming. The girl was headed out, and she wasn’t coming back. He had to stop her any way he could. It would be much too suspicious and stalker-ish for him to show up in her next hidey-hole. She lifted her gaze and bit her lower lip. “I’d like to sleep with you again.” Damn, if that didn’t give him a little jump at the apex of his ribs. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she seemed. It was certainly a boost for his ego. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” he told her, happy to take her up on that. But Madeline Forsythe was lying. If her car wasn’t damaged, she’d drive it straight out of town without looking back. “There’s the tow truck,” he said. She looked at the door and walked over to the window facing the dirt drive. A minute later, the red truck came up the hill into sight, dragging her wounded Honda behind it. “Wow, you have some hearing.” “I’m part dog.” Literally. “Well thank God you are. I might be an ice cube right now otherwise.” She went to the couch and picked up her jeans, feeling them up and down the legs. “I’m going to ride into town with you. I need to do some work on my brake calipers.” He headed to the bedroom to finish dressing. When he came back out, Randie had slipped into her jeans. She left his sweats folded neatly on the arm of his couch. More evidence he’d never see her again. They walked outside together, squinting against the sun reflecting off fresh snow. Boyd stepped out and greeted Aidan with a nod.

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“You really crunched her good.” He opened the passenger door for them. “Sheared the eight-by-twelve off at the stump. You hit it straight on.” “A wolf ran in front of my car,” Randie explained as she slid across the wide bench seat of the rig. “It’s the second one I’ve seen this week. Or maybe it was the same one, I don’t know.” It wasn’t, Aidan thought. Damn Faulkner, up to no good. “A wolf? Huh,” Boyd said thoughtfully. “You know you’re not supposed to swerve off the road to avoid an animal? It’s one of the quickest ways to get killed out here. That’s why deer are considered the deadliest animal in North America.” He shifted into first with a woeful grind and swung the tow truck into a wide turn out of the driveway. Randie braced a hand on the roof as the rig bounced over his rutted drive. “No way.” “Girl, I kid you not. Tell her, Aidan.” “It’s true. Because of that and the deer tick.” “Lyme disease,” Boyd explained. “Well, that may be true, but I knew the road was mostly flat, and I’d never forgive myself if I ran that beautiful creature over.” Aidan gazed down at her. The sentiment was nice, even if it was foolish. Boyd snorted. “Dead ain’t better than a guilty conscience, at least in my book.” He leaned over and peered at Aidan. “Am I right?” “You’re right.” Aidan ground his teeth. “We going to Joe’s?” Boyd asked, even though he seemed to understand they were. “They don’t do body work, but they can get that front axle fixed, and that’s your quickest bet to getting back on the road.” “I think it’s my only bet.” Randie looked up at Aidan. “Is there a body shop in town? Never mind, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to be pretty; it just has to roll.” Aidan nodded. “I called Joe. He’s going to open up, at least to give you an estimate. Hell, it might be me who works on it, since I’m going in today anyway.” “Sorry.” She cringed. “I didn’t mean to ruin your Saturday off.”

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“Sweetheart, you far from ruined it.” He gave her a quick smile to reveal his secret meaning and liked the way her cheeks turned pink. “All right then. Joe’s it is,” Boyd said. “That makes my job easier.” One of the bay doors was rolled up when they pulled in. Joe gave Aidan a strange look but thankfully kept his comments to himself. Randie relayed her story about the wolf in the road and how Aidan came down after hearing the crash, earning him another odd look from Joe, and went on to explain she didn’t care how it looked, she just wanted it drivable. At least he had some control over how soon she was able to leave town. He went to the back and dropped his calipers into the rotor to turn the disks. A half hour later, Joe found him in the back at the acid wash. “That little girl’s none too happy.” Aidan wiped his hands on a rag. “You ever gonna tell me what’s really going on here?” “It’s like she said. I heard her crash through the guardrail. She swerved to avoid a wolf.” Joe frowned. “Did you really hear that from all the way up on Pike’s Ridge?” “I really did.” “Hmmm.” “I have good hearing.” “And you’re a good mechanic. But when I told Leroy I would do him a favor and hire one of his son’s special ops buddies, I didn’t think to ask what kind of funny business might be going on. That girl may be only slightly less new in town than you, but here we look out for our own. If I get wind something unseemly is going on, the deal’s off.” “The girl’s life is in danger.” Joe opened his mouth. “But I’m here to protect her.” Now he snapped his jaw shut. “That’s what I do. I’m in the private sector now.” “Like a mercenary?”

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“More like investigation and security.” He considered how much to reveal. “She’s on the run, and someone bad is after her.” There. That explained things as much as he could. And essentially it was the truth. “A bodyguard.” Joe took a step back and scratched his head. “Well now, gosh, that’s different. She a criminal?” Aidan considered his answer carefully. “She’s not dangerous, if that’s what you’re asking.” Joe uttered a grunt of assent. “I have a feeling she was making a run for it last night when she swerved off the road. Lucky for me it happened near my cabin, and I was able to bring her up to my place. If she took off, I couldn’t explain it away as a coincidence if I found her again.” “Makes sense,” Joe agreed. “In fact, it was a really lucky thing it happened near my cabin. Fool girl didn’t even have a coat. If she’d tried to walk out, she might have frozen to death.” Joe shook his head, frowning. “As dumb as a tourist. We lose one or two every year.” “So she’s safe in town for a few days or however long we can stall with her car. That’s a good thing.” Joe shifted. “Now I don’t know. She’s talking about buying something used instead. Said she only paid two thousand for that heap, and it has a lot of other problems, including the heater don’t work, so nine hundred to fix it is too steep. Betty Smart is selling her little double cab for fifteen hundred. Runs like a charm. Put a new transmission in it myself just this summer.” “We have to convince her not to do that. If she can leave town, she’s in a lot more danger than she is now.” “I hear you. I’ll do what I can.” When Joe turned, Aidan stopped him. “She can’t know my real reason for being here. She’d run faster than a jackrabbit on mowed grass in hawk country.” Joe gave a chuckle. “You know, when I first asked you about any funny business, I meant were you putting the moves on that innocent little girl. It kinda looked like you’d gone sweet on her.”

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Aidan clapped him on the shoulder as they walked back to the customer waiting area. “Another time, another place, Joe, and I sure would have.”

*** She got lucky this time. Because Aidan told Joe they were friends, he agreed to drop the repair to six hundred. The old Honda wouldn’t be pretty, but it would run. Aidan gave her a secret wink and told her he’d even look at the heater. The only problem was it would take a few days. They already had a list of jobs ahead of hers, and she knew he had planned to spend his day off getting his own truck back on four wheels. Randie knew enough to be grateful. She only had a few thousand dollars to live on, and auto repairs could eat that away faster than she could replenish it working as a waitress. Not that Sandra was cheap, she paid minimum wage on top of tips, and Randie knew a lot of honky-tonks out in the middle of nowhere didn’t. Sandra wouldn’t be awake yet—she was on a late schedule just like Randie—but Carol Ann might. Randie started walking toward the little ranch house off Main Street and broke into a jog when she was out of town. Maybe she could get there before Carol Ann found the envelope. She allowed herself a secret smile as she thought of Aidan. If she’d known she was going to lose her virginity last night, she would have worn sexier panties. She’d never imagined she’d land a guy as drop-dead gorgeous as Aidan. He was more than handsome; there was something virtuous about his manner. She suspected he’d been Special Forces or some other top-level branch of the military. He wore his hair only slightly longer than a crew cut and carried himself in that ramrod-straight posture that accentuated all those yummy muscles. Randie opened her flannel shirt and fanned herself as she jogged. It wasn’t the exertion making her sweat; it was sexy Aidan Chase. She was flushed all the way to her neck, but otherwise her heart felt fine. She checked her pulse. It was hardly elevated. She smiled again, even as she knew if anyone glanced out their window, she’d look like a fool. The grinning jogger. He’d been so tender when he came back with that warm washcloth, looking so mortified that he’d defiled an innocent, she’d nearly been brought to tears. The second time he’d taken her had been so wild, almost animalistic, and she’d seen that possessive glint in his eyes again. Just

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thinking about it made her do more than sweat. He’d said he didn’t have any plans tonight. She wondered what else he could come up with. As good-looking as he was, he probably had a lot of experience. She shivered as she thought about the delights he could surely teach her. Naughty, forbidden, delicious delights. And the man could cook! What a dream. She skipped lightly on the wooden steps leading up to the landing at Carol Ann’s kitchen door. A glance through the bevel-paned window revealed her envelope was no longer stuck to the refrigerator. “Carol Ann!” she called out, not wanting to surprise the woman who didn’t expect her back. “I’m here, dear.” Carol Ann entered the kitchen carrying Ginger and set the kitten down before a small bowl of food. “I thought you were going to see your mother.” “I was, but I drove into a guardrail and damaged the car. It’ll be a few days before I can head out.” “Oh my. You’re all right, I hope.” “Just disappointed. I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you in person. It was so late when I got in I didn’t want to wake you.” “Don’t you worry about a thing, dear. Family comes first. I’m just your landlord.” “No, Carol Ann. You’re much more than that.” Stinging emotion burned in her throat. She forced a smile. If she got teary-eyed, Carol Ann would really get suspicious. “You’re such a sweet girl. It’s been a pleasure having you as my renter, and my friend. Your rent money is still there in the envelope.” She gestured to the antique credenza. “You keep it. I like to pay in advance. I’m so forgetful.” “Oh pshaw. You haven’t seen forgetful until you’ve seen me wandering around the house looking for my glasses.” Randie laughed as she pictured Carol Ann scouting around the house with them on top of her head. “I’m going to take a shower. I told Sandra I was heading out, but maybe she’ll still want me to work today.” “I’ll call and tell her. I’m sure she will. But Randie, how will you get there?”

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“I’ll walk. It’s only a mile and a half.” “Of course. I keep forgetting you run five miles a day. A mile and a half is a walk in the park for you, but to me it’s like crossing the great divide. What about after your shift? You shouldn’t walk that far late at night.” Randie paused in the kitchen doorway. Little Ginger was gobbling up her food and heartily purring. “Um, well, actually I might go over to Aidan’s after work.” She blushed. It was one thing going wildly hedonistic with a sexy man in the privacy of his bedroom but quite another talking to a sweet, grandmotherly old lady about it. But Carol Ann surprised her by lighting up with glee. “That handsome young man Joe Wright hired on?” She clapped her hands together. “Well now, isn’t that wonderful!”

*** Randie was beginning to suspect Aidan had changed his mind, and by eleven o’clock she was sure. She hadn’t seen a sign of him all night. She couldn’t deny there was a small amount of disappointment, but mostly because she’d spent the entire day thinking about the way he’d touched her last night and dreaming about doing all of it, and more, again. The place was nearly empty. Even though they were open until midnight on Fridays and Saturdays, most of the regulars cleared out by ten. Only three customers and Sandra were still there. Mike Sanders and Phil Hamby were playing a lively, drunken game of darts, and a young, dark-haired man she’d never seen before sat alone in a booth drinking his beer and staring at her. When the phone rang, she answered the call in her usual perky tone, glad for an excuse to turn her attention away from the guy’s eerie gaze. “Dolly’s Bar and Grill. This is Randie.” “Hey, it’s Aidan. Did you still want to get together tonight?” She hoped her moment of surprised excitement came off as nonchalance. “Well, sure. If you do. We close at midnight, and I should be finished up around twelve thirty.” “I’ll pick you up. I’m guessing you still don’t have wheels?” “Nope, I sure don’t. That’ll be fine. See you then.”

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She hung up the phone and indulged in a secret smile. She glanced up at her reflection in the long, old-fashioned mirror behind the bar. Should she have worn some makeup? She always knotted her hair back in a braid, but Aidan had pulled it out like he wanted to see it down. She sighed. She didn’t own any makeup, other than some lip moisturizer that made her lips kind of glossy. Randie went to pick up the dark customer’s empty beer glass. “Last call,” she told him. “We’re closing in a half hour.” “In that case, can I give you a ride home?” He grinned. “No, thanks. Someone’s picking me up.” He grasped her wrist when she reached for his glass. “How about a date tomorrow, then? Dolly’s closes at eight on Sunday, right? I’d really like to take you out.” “I’m flattered, but no.” She pulled her hand free. “Why not?” “Because I said so.” She gave him what she hoped was a firm look. “Do you want another beer?” He pretended a grimace. “If that’s all I’m gonna get, then yeah, one last Sam from the tap before you close.” She poured three, bringing them out on a tray. If he tried to grab her again, she’d dump the other two on him. Sandra herself had taught her the trick. “Silver Creek is close enough to Alaska that the ratio of men to women is unbalanced,” Sandra had told her. “And a girl doesn’t have to be as cute as you to earn unwanted attention. If they make a grab, you act like they knocked you off balance. Then they wear the beer and the guilt for causing you to spill.” Randie had never actually done it, because until last week when Brett Gaddis had gotten pushy, most of the time the unwanted attention wasn’t physical or threatening. Thankfully the dark-haired customer accepted his beer with little more than a hot look. She took the other two glasses to Mike and Phil, knowing it would keep them at the dartboard until closing. They gasped in feigned delight and started making flirty noises about her being the

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woman of their dreams, but her secret wink kept them quiet enough that the dark-haired man didn’t catch on to her scheme. She glanced at the clock, counting the minutes until closing.

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Chapter Six Aidan scented Faulkner the instant he walked into Dolly’s at ten to twelve. Randie met him at the door. Her cheeks turned pink as she smiled, as though bashful about the late-night booty call. The scent of the other werewolf sparked a surge of possessive rage that had him acting before thinking. He pulled her into his arms, and the peck he started turned into a deep, intense kiss that made her knees dip. She grinned and bit her lower lip. “Hi.” He smiled back, enchanted by her sweet innocence. “Hey.” She turned the lock on the door behind him. “We’re closing up now.” He looked up to see two guys from the feedlot grinning at him. Phil raised a hand. “Hey, Aidan.” Mike motioned him over. “Come toss arrows with us.” He glanced at Randie. “Is this it, just these two?” he asked her, subtly trying to find out if Faulkner was still here. She nodded. “They’ll be staggering home in a few minutes. I just have to total my tips, and I’ll roust them.” She turned but continued full circle to face him again and beamed. “They were good tonight. Some guy tipped me a fifty after I turned him down for a date.” “Fifty bucks for turning him down?” He pretended awe, even as he suspected it had been Faulkner. “Not the guy from the alley?” “Nope, some stranger I’ve never seen before.” Definitely Faulkner. “Maybe he heard about that and was grateful I didn’t bash his face in.” “Probably.” She laughed as she skipped away. “You’re earning quite the reputation here.”

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He joined Mike and Phil at the dartboard, but they weren’t so much playing a game as lightheartedly arguing about each other’s chances of “nailing” the pretty manager of a local horse stable. After a few minutes of drunken guffaws and a dart that missed the board and stuck in Dolly’s wooden wall, half the lights in the restaurant blinked off. “Last call!” Mike hollered, but Randie came out of the kitchen hallway wrapped in a thick sweater with her purse in hand. “You had your last call, and it was on the house.” “Oh, yeah. Thanks, darlin’.” The sight of Sandra behind her made them drop the darts into the wall-mounted holder. “We’re going, we’re going.” “You two are walking, right?” Sandra said in a half question, half command. They both grumbled and promised they were. Sandra locked the door behind them all, and Mike and Phil trudged up the snowy sidewalk in the opposite direction. “Since this could officially be called a first date,” Aidan said as they reached his truck, “what would you like to do?” She leaned back against the driver’s door and looped her hands over his shoulders. “Oh, I don’t know.” She smiled as he eased closer. “Some kissing wouldn’t be out of the question.” He eased close, pinning her against the door. He was reminded how small and delicate she was as he bent to reach her mouth. They kissed slowly and sweetly, an exploration, and a promise, of things to come. “I can do that.” “Some touching…” Her lips moved in soft, featherlight kisses, and she teased with her tongue. “I can do that.” “Maybe something more.” “I can do that too.” The absence of Faulkner’s scent had lifted his mood, but he still couldn’t decide if she was safer at her place or his. The small part of him still feeling guilty for sleeping with—and deflowering—a target told him to take her home, deposit her safely inside Carol Ann’s cottage, and say good night. But not only would that seem disapproving and send her the wrong message; the greedy part of him

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wanted to indulge in her sweet charms with such a fierce longing, all other rational thought was blocked out. Besides, this was no ordinary case, so he pushed the guilt aside. He could not deny the disquieting suspicion there was something horribly wrong at the Forsythe mansion. Normally he didn’t get involved when he suspected his clients of wrongdoing; he simply walked away. But he was now certain Randie was his heart mate. A century or two ago, that would have bound them together for life. Today, pack law had modernized like civil law. Though she was his mate, that didn’t mean they were forced to marry. One thing for certain, he didn’t like Old Man Forsythe, and he most definitely wasn’t turning Randie over. He’d been uneasy about this job and suspected the old fart had been lying to him from the get-go. In Aidan’s opinion, that was not a way to make friends, nor was it the way to establish a business relationship. He just needed to get to the heart of the money issue, and all three of them could go on with their merry little lives. Randie was an adult. Her old man couldn’t force her to come home. He could, however, press charges and have her arrested. The idea churned his guts, but there was nothing he could do about it. If Randie had indeed stolen the money, he had to find out why. First things first. Get inside her place. If she was carrying that much cash around, it would be hard to hide.

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Chapter Seven Aidan leaned over her, tall and strong and impossibly powerful. “You know, I’m interested in you for more than just sex.” The sultry deepness of his voice told her sex was exactly what was on his mind. Randie’s cheeks heated despite the chilly night air. “Yeah? For what other reasons?” Aidan grinned. “Well…I like your cheerful personality.” “Ah. My personality.” “I love the way you laugh. It isn’t squeaky or annoying.” “Thank goodness for that.” “And I like your wholesomeness. There’s nothing fake about you, like artificial nails or hair extensions.” “Or breast implants?” Now he laughed. “Yep, that too. I like ’em natural.” “That’s good, because I like a guy who likes real boobs.” He slid his hands around her hips and rubbed close with every part of himself. While she loved the way he made her feel delicate and feminine, she loved the way the sheer size and strength of him made her feel safe and protected even more. “We can go somewhere and talk,” he offered. “I’d rather go somewhere and have sex.” He chuckled again. “I like a girl who likes to have sex.” Then his mirth faded. “But are you sure? You only lost your virginity last night. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

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She blushed again, embarrassed as much by his bluntness as having to defend her desire for more sex. “Actually that’s just it. I want you to overwhelm me. We did it twice last night, and both times it was different.” She gave a gentle tug on his shoulders, and he responded with a light kiss. “I want you to show me all the ways it can be different.” She kissed him again, more desperately this time. She wanted him to understand she was serious. When she flicked out with her tongue, he groaned low in his throat. The feral sound sent heat rushing through her. “Not in a single night.” She laughed. “Let’s see how it goes.” “Adventurous. Another thing I like about you.” She felt his erection against her belly and rubbed with her hips. “We’re in agreement, then?” He brushed a kiss across her jaw. Tingles rushed from head to toe. “I never said I didn’t agree.” “No pressure, but…I want you.” This time the low sound in the back of his throat was more of a moan. “I want you too.” “Last night was really great. I mean, it was amazing. At least it was for me. Can you be amazing again?” “Believe me, sweetheart. The last thing I want to do is disappoint.” “Can you teach me how to be amazing back?” “It’ll be my pleasure.” She leaned off the truck. “I think it will.” “Your place?” he asked when they were seated and he’d turned on the truck. She thought of Carol Ann and figured the older woman would be asleep by now. Her rented room was a renovated garage with a private entry, and Carol Ann’s bedroom was at the opposite corner of the house. “That’ll be fine. I have a bigger bed. No condoms, though.” “I’ve got that covered.”

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She smiled, looking at his profile during the three minutes it took to cover the less-thantwo-mile distance. “You’re a man who travels prepared?” He gave a bold laugh. “Only since last night.” Randie felt a little zing. She hadn’t expected he was celibate, but hearing him say she’d prompted his sexual preparations gave her ego a nice stroke. “Turn here. Carol Ann’s is at the end of the road.” “I like this,” he told her. “Close to town, but feels like it’s in the middle of nowhere. Hers is the only house on this road?” She pointed into the darkness as they drove past the stake that used to hold a mailbox. “There was a house here, but the owner fell asleep on the couch with a lit cigarette. It happened five years ago according to Carol Ann, but during the day you can still see some blackened beams.” “He got out okay, I hope.” “It was a she. Yes, she did, but she was old and didn’t have the ability to put out the fire once it got started.” He pulled the truck to the side of the gravel road when Carol Ann’s porch light came into view. “Maybe we shouldn’t wake your landlady.” He parked on the wide shoulder. “Good idea,” she whispered back. She slipped out the passenger door and rounded the truck to loop her arm around him. He pulled her close under his arm. “Don’t you have anything warmer than a sweater?” “I’m good. It isn’t that cold, really. I’m this way.” She urged him away from the porch steps leading up to the front door. “I have my own door.” She fished out her keys and unlocked the knob and dead bolt. “Wow, nice,” he said, taking in her wide single-room apartment. “You probably think my place is a dump.” She locked the door behind him and flipped the security lever. “I like your cabin. It’s rustic and…historic.”

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“Did Carol Ann decorate or you?” “This is all Carol Ann. She wanted to be sure she got a female tenant.” And the feminine decor in white, pink, and lavender appealed to Randie the instant she saw it. “But I love it. I’m girly that way.” She kicked off her shoes and sent them flying toward the closet. She then sat on the bed and leaned back on her elbows. “Do you want a beer?” He shook his head, bearing down on her with an intense glint in his eyes. “No.” “Something to eat?” Her voice dropped a notch, low and husky. He toed out of his shoes and continued stalking her. “No.” He shrugged out of his coat and tossed it on the floor. “How about some coffee?” “Just you.” He knelt in front of her, and Randie parted her legs to let him between. She sat up and kissed him, tugging his shirt out of his jeans. Aidan broke their kiss only long enough to yank it over his head and let it fly across the room. Her libido rocketed into overdrive at the sight of his ridged chest. She combed her fingers through the light mat of hair there, then dragged them down the narrowing trail on his belly to where it disappeared into the waist of his jeans. For a wonderful few minutes, Randie let herself believe this was real, that Aidan was her adoring boyfriend, and they had the possibility of a future together. That she could consider this sweet and sexy man was all hers. Aidan pushed to his feet and urged her backward on the bed without breaking their kiss. She eased down until lying flat, pinned there by his incredible bulk. Eyes closed, her world spun with the vibrant understanding of his size and strength, and the safety she felt in his arms. Fingers tugging at her jeans button made her gasp. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she confessed.

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“I can tell,” he whispered back. After popping the top button, he pulled at the cotton Tshirt that made up her uniform. She threw her arms up to let him drag it off. He gazed down at her lacy bra. “Nice.” He unzipped her jeans and tugged them down her hips, taking her panties with them. Clothes came off in a heap. He reached forward and released the front clasp of her bra. “Really nice.” He knew just how to touch her to make her blood race, just what to say to melt her heart. She felt wonderfully exposed, offered like a platter of morsels to a starving man. He raked over her with a hungry gaze. Before pushing his own jeans off, he dug into the pocket and removed several condoms. Their gold foil flashed when he bent toward her again, scattering them across the bed. She shivered with the understanding that he meant to have her as many times as she could give. She built on the fantasy, imagining herself the woman who could give him all he would ever need. “Turn over.” His voice came in a low growl. She rolled onto her belly and pushed up onto her hands and knees at the edge of the bed. “One thing I would have liked to do was taste your virgin pussy.” His hot breath was suddenly there, between her legs. “But it’s just as nice knowing I’m the only one who’s ever been inside you.” She cried out at the feel of his warm, wet tongue devouring her. He used his tongue to push her folds apart and lave slowly up and down the length of her pussy. He sucked a mouthful of sensitive flesh between his lips; then his teeth were nipping and nibbling, pulling her clit into his mouth to be tortured by the tip of his tongue. “Oh God!” She had to remind herself to breathe. “Aidan!” His tongue slid inside her. Her world went off-kilter. “Oh!” “Like that, sweetheart?” “Oh yes. Do it again!” He did, and she loved him for it.

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His hands gripped her hips, and she felt him moving behind her. She looked over her shoulder at the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open. “Ready or not, sweetheart, here I come.” “Ready!” He stood between her parted thighs and held firm to her hips. One hand briefly left her to guide his cock to her slick cleft. Then his thumbs were pulling her guarding lips wide, letting the head of his shaft probe for her entrance. Aidan thrust, stunning her with the solid thickness. He dug his fingers into her hips, forcing her to take him. She felt a quick flash of pain. Surely he wasn’t bigger than he’d been before? It must be the position, and she reminded herself she’d asked him to show her how many ways it could be different. He paused at her initial cry. “Okay, Randie?” “Okay.” She breathed out. “Don’t stop.” “I’m so glad you said that.” He thrust against her again, but slowly this time, gently nudging deeper inside. She felt her flesh refusing him and enjoyed his patient insistence. A sweet itch started that blossomed with every thrust against her tightness. His thighs came against hers, his long cock pushed deep into her body. “Oh God, it feels so good.” “You are so tight.” He ground the words through clenched teeth. “I think I’m going to come.” Her own voice was equally strained. She felt the tip of him pushing against the end of her cunt. Each nudge sent a delicious tingle shooting through her body like an explosion of sparks. He’d set a perfect rhythm with his quick, shallow thrusts. There was no withdrawal-penetration, just pressure and release. Randie arched and pushed back to meet him. Her gasps turned to moans, then to a steady keening. “Ooh, God, Aidan, don’t stop!” The pleasure hit like a lightning strike, sharp and bright, and then rolled through her like thunder. She gripped the sheets and forced herself backward onto his cock. As though he sensed

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her need Aidan thrust harder, now pulling out and driving back inside with increasing speed. His thighs slapped against hers, and wonderful smacking sounds arose from their flesh. He let out a grunt and gave a thrust so powerful she sprawled forward, remaining on her knees only by his firm grip on her hips. He stabbed into her again, sending the pleasure surging into her like ocean waves in a storm. He then held himself fast and impossibly deep. A ripple rolled from Randie’s shoulders to her hips as her orgasm peaked and fell. They both went still except for his cock twitching inside her. Aidan bent forward and wrapped his arms around her, cupping both breasts in his palms. His breath against her neck was hot and heavy. For a moment, neither spoke. His slow exhalation carried an oath. “God.” “That was amazing.” She drawled the word with feeling. He breathed out a pained laugh. It sobered quickly. “Did I hurt you?” “Not nearly enough,” she said lightly, making him laugh again. “Jesus, Randie. You’re amazing.” “I think I like sex. I mean, really, really like it.” He straightened up and gently extracted himself from her body. She collapsed onto the bed while he headed to the bathroom. The tiny sparkles on her ceiling glittered in the low light. She’d noticed them before, of course, but now it felt like their shine came from the energy coursing through her. What a wonderful choice to give herself to him last night. If she died tomorrow, which was a very strong possibility, she would die having known true pleasure. If only she were a normal girl looking forward to a normal lifespan, where she could have a boyfriend and maybe even a husband, and lots and lots of nights like these. She slipped back into her discarded panties and dragged the bedcovers down. She then retrieved a threadbare T-shirt from her dresser drawer to sleep in. At least until Aidan took it off her again. She looked toward the bathroom. Would he stay the night? Granted it was almost two in the morning, there wasn’t much more night left, but still she hoped that pocketful of condoms meant he intended another round.

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She smiled bashfully to herself, and he caught her when he strode naked from the bathroom. “What?” He matched her grin. God, he was a glorious statue of male perfection, and his cock was tall and hard again. That answered her question. “Just, um, wondering if you were staying until morning. Hoping, actually.” “I’ll stay as long as I’m invited to.” “Then I’m inviting.”

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Chapter Eight Though Randie was a deep sleeper, the late-night schedule she was used to kept her awake for the next hour. Now, even though she was asleep, getting up would be difficult. But that was his own fault. When he’d crawled into bed with her, he’d pulled her into his arms. Her head rested on her pillow, but his arm was trapped under her neck. Their legs were tangled. For a while he’d been happily holding one breast. Randie had driven him straight out of his mind. He loved that she was pure and touched only by him. Her eagerness for sex blew him away. She was like a wonderful toy he’d received Christmas morning and could play with whenever he wanted, however he wanted, and he didn’t have to share with anyone. Jesus, his objectivity with this case had flown right out the window. He was tempted to call Forsythe and quit. Aidan wanted nothing more than to bury his dick inside Randie’s sweet pussy and stay there forever. But he was a professional, and he couldn’t just abandon a job. Especially when that job meant his getting to the bottom of this bizarre situation. Searching her place would be harder than he’d anticipated. She lived in a converted garage that was essentially one huge room, with a bathroom built onto the back corner. The construction was excellent; it was obvious Carol Ann had it renovated by a reputable contractor. The oversize shower stall was done entirely in slate tile that matched the flooring, and a small sink cabinet had a granite countertop. The living area was also done nicely, with two windows created of frosted glass blocks that let in light but provided privacy, even though all they faced was a tall shrub across the path leading to her private door.

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The main room had thick carpeting and fresh paint, and the king-size bed was placed directly in the center of the room against the common wall to the house. Across from that, a tall dresser stood against the wall where the garage door used to be. Gauzy pink and lavender swaths of filmy material hung around the bed from loops in the ceiling to give it a canopied look. She currently had them gathered in bunches, but he imagined that when let hang, they would give the bed an exotic feel. The bed itself was covered in a satin purple duvet with matching pink satin throw pillows. He’d felt a little like Rudolph Valentino fucking a harem girl from behind. Randie had probably squealed with delight when she’d seen the rental. Comparatively, though her room at the Death House had been pretty, it was sterile and cold. Odd how a room at her house could be decorated so impersonally by her own father, yet this unit, decorated by a stranger, suited her so well. Though he’d only seen Carol Ann once at Dolly’s, he held a secret appreciation for the kind woman who filled a place in Randie’s life that she desperately needed. Forsythe had given him leads on Randie based on phone calls made to a hired nanny/housekeeper. As far as he knew, she had been the only female influence in Randie's life. Behind the bathroom and along the wall that held her private door, she had what looked like a wet bar with a sink, cabinets, and a small refrigerator. In front of that was a tiny bistro table and two quaint wrought iron chairs. The backs formed curly hearts. Opposite the bathroom was a door he assumed led into the house. It was a wide-open space he’d have to move through silently to search. There was no way he could get into the dresser drawers without waking her. He took his time extracting his arms and legs, and when he got up, pretending to use the john, he grabbed her purse from the table on his way. As he’d expected, she had an ATM card from a national bank. He wrote the number down on a slip of paper he found in her purse and folded it up very small. He flushed the toilet and flipped off the light before peering out. Randie still appeared to be asleep. He returned the purse to the table as he made his way back to the bed. He knelt to slip the paper into his rumpled jeans and quickly looked under the bed. No suspicious-looking suitcase. She stirred when he eased in beside her.

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“It’s just me.” “John?” She smiled as she rolled onto her back. “Just kidding.” She wore that wonderful sleepy scent again. He propped himself on one elbow, and she snuggled close. “Is it morning yet?” “No.” “Oh, good.” He traced a finger over her cheek. The softness of her skin couldn’t be compared to anything else. “How are you feeling?” She smiled and stretched like a cat. “Good. Great. Wonderful.” “Ready for more?” “Absolutely.” Randie slid her hands around his waist. “You’re naked. I’m not.” He thumbed the lacy strap at her hip and pushed her panties down. He then slid his hand up and slipped the threadbare Fisher Cats jersey over her head. “Now you are.” “How convenient.” Randie’s inquisitive little fingers found his thigh, tickled the hair there, and caressed his balls. She gave a squeeze. Her hand slid up to his shaft, and she sighed when she found him hard and long. “You seem ready for more too.” He heard the delight in her voice. He tore open the condom wrapper and sheathed himself in seconds. He rolled toward her, circled her with his arms, and rolled back, dragging her across his chest. She gasped and laughed. “You’re in control this time,” he told her. “Ooh. Fun.”

There was something very sexy about Aidan lying beneath her, offering himself up to her control. She was sore and stinging slightly but eager to explore this new position.

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The room glowed with bluish, ambient light. She pushed upright on her thighs until she could see his erect cock stretching toward his bellybutton. The condom gloved him in pearly translucence. He set his hands against her thighs, letting her touch him as she pleased. Randie gently grasped his shaft and angled him toward her center. She shifted forward and touched her pussy to the tip. A brief, upward glance revealed him watching her intently. She lowered her body slowly. Her straining flesh resisted him. Randie eased back and gingerly stirred him in a circle, sliding him through her slickness. Still it felt as if she couldn’t take him this way. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered. “You won’t,” he bit out in response. Now his eyes were squeezed shut. She positioned him directly at her waiting entrance and let her body weight do the work for her. A shocking bloom of pain as her pussy yielded, and he slid inside her like a column of stone, stretching her wider than he had yet. Now bathed in her wetness, he slid deep easily and reached the end of her channel like a battering ram. “Oh.” She breathed out the gasp before she could stop herself. The pain instantly faded, but Randie worried she’d asked for more than she could handle this time. Still she didn’t want him to know she was scared. He shifted beneath her, inadvertently thrusting deeper. She lifted herself off him to ease the pressure and leaned forward to brace her palms on his shoulders. “Too much?” he asked her. “No.” “It’s okay, Randie. Slow and easy this time.” Her thighs quivered as she rode up and down. He cupped her breasts and squeezed, palms warm in the cool air. The combination of captured breasts and filled pussy brought a delicious sense of complete sexual surrender. Her body slowly adjusted to fit all of him, but he was still gloriously overwhelming.

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Aidan slid his hands around her back and urged her down until she pressed against him. With effortless strength he rolled them over, lifted her, and shifted her beneath him. The new position angled her body more agreeably to receive him, and she let out a pleased sigh. “Better?” “Perfect.” “We’ll work up to the other positions.” “Practice makes perfect.” He kissed her, a slow, tender touch that made stars dance in her eyes. His tongue probed her mouth, and he rolled his hips in tandem, as if telling her how slowly and gently he would take her. It embarrassed her that she couldn’t accept him in that position, but she loved him for understanding. She closed her eyes and lost herself in his tenderness. How she wished for a different life, to be a different person who could pursue a normal relationship with this man. A twinge of regret squeezed at her heart as she realized she would never know what might have been with him. Meeting him had been a punishment. Of course he was so perfect, and she couldn’t keep him. All emotions fled as warm, ticklish pleasure built in her pussy. She arched and rolled her hips to meet him and breathed out a long sigh. “Can you come?” he asked on a whisper. “I want to.” “Come for me, Randie.” “Yes.” “Tell me what to do.” “You’re doing it. Slow, like that.” The pleasure built so slowly she almost didn’t notice it until it was there, robbing her of all other sensation. Above it all, the idea he possessed her body, sex inside sex, sent her spiraling into oblivion. She was closer to him than she’d ever been to another person. For these brief few minutes, she was claimed by him, seized from her old life and forced into his. If she could, she’d let him stay inside her forever.

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*** As though taunting him, traces of the other werewolf’s scent followed Aidan almost everywhere he went. It was like Faulkner was following his every move, and that didn’t sit well where Randie was concerned. He could make good on his threat to call the council, but he wanted to bring as little attention to himself in Silver Creek as possible. He hadn’t been lying when he told Forsythe he was strictly confidential about everything when on a case. Besides, Faulkner hadn’t actually made a move, and even though Aidan desperately needed to blame someone for Isabella’s murder, he’d never been entirely convinced Faulkner had done it. There had only been circumstantial evidence, and Faulkner had been famous for shady dealings, not crimes of passion. But his guilt or innocence was for the council judiciary to decide, if and when they apprehended Faulkner. He’d been on the run for three years; another week wouldn’t change much. Aidan had reassembled his brakes yesterday, driven the truck back to Joe’s, and mounted snow tires. Until Randie’s car was fixed, or he decided what he was going to do about her, he was driving her everywhere she needed to go. He paused in the street, two blocks down from Dolly’s. Since the storm two nights before, the wind had tapered off to the occasional gentle gust, the temperature warmer thanks to the overcast hanging low over Silver Creek. A fleeting scent wafted to him again, bringing the odd odor of lingering death he’d first noticed in Forsythe’s dusty old mansion. Now there was another scent tingeing it, similar to what he also remembered from the house. Specialty tobacco. A Turkish flavor with cloves. But now he was smelling the smoke along with Forsythe’s decay, when in the house he’d only smelled the after-smoke that clung to the smoker. Probably because the old man wouldn’t allow smoking in the house. That would jive with the unmistakable scent of illness Aidan had found there. Someone in Forsythe’s employ was a smoker, and that someone was here in Silver Creek. He turned away from Dolly’s and started up the street. Thank goodness he was downwind or he might not have noticed it, as distracted by promises of Randie as he was.

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A breezy gust brought another whiff, stronger now. He rounded the corner, and Wrangler’s Inn came into view. A man leaned on the iron railing of the top floor of the two-story hotel. The cherry of his cigarette flared and dimmed. Of the two widely spaced outer hall lights, the one to the man’s left was burned out. He appeared as a hulking silhouette, but Aidan remembered him. He could smell the true scent of the man underneath the odors. The goon took a last drag on the cigarette and flicked it over the rail. It spun through the darkness and hit the pavement with an explosion of sparks. The man turned into the room behind him. “Pig,” Aidan muttered. He jogged the last half a block and crossed the hotel’s parking lot on the far end. A glance at the office revealed the night manager, back to the windows, sitting behind his counter watching a portable television set. Aidan moved quietly up the stairs and down the cement walkway. He rapped on the door with his knuckles, keeping his back to the wall beside the door. The thumb lock disengaged. “Yeah—” Aidan shoved the door open. He punched the man in the nose. The guy stumbled backward, cupping his face, and sprawled on the bed. “What the hell!” Aidan kicked the door shut and hauled him up by his lapels. The stench of smoke was so overpowering he had to fight the urge to sneeze. He raised his fist, making the man cower. He wondered if the guy had seen Randie. If he had, this case was over before Aidan was ready for it to be. He held the flap of the man’s jacket with one hand and flipped open his phone with the other. Punched the client’s speed dial labeled “Death House.” The old man himself answered, sounding wide awake. “I don’t like being followed.” “Mr. Chase. How nice to hear from you.” “You heard from me two days ago when I provided your first report as per our agreement. You’re in violation of our contract.”

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“I merely sent my man along as a backup.” “I’ll have your last week’s pay refunded first thing in the morning.” “Now now, don’t be hasty.” “He leaves, or I do.” The old man didn’t laugh, but Aidan could hear the mocking humor in his voice. “I’ll call him home immediately.” “Mr. Forsythe, I’m no good to you if you don’t trust my abilities.” “I have the utmost confidence in your abilities. My bodyguard earned nothing more than suspicious silence when he questioned the people in Silver Creek about Madeline. It seems you were right about the mistake of waving her photo around and asking obnoxious questions, as you so put it.” So he hadn’t found Randie. Or he had, and Forsythe was testing him. Aidan released the man and stalked across the tiny room. “Jesus. I’ll never understand why clients insist on screwing up my work.” Forsythe started to say something, but Aidan disconnected. The ignoramus sat up and swiped blood from his upper lip. “Did you have to break my nose?” Aidan cocked his head. “Looks like I straightened it. You broke it before.” “It doesn’t help to keep bending it back and forth!” Aidan grinned. The man’s cell phone rang, just as he knew it would. “Yeah, he’s here.” The bodyguard gave him a quick glance. “Hell, I don’t know. He’s a friggin’ bloodhound. Yeah. Fine.” He snapped the phone shut. A knock sounded on the door the instant Aidan caught the scent of pizza pie. “Amore’s.” “Get that, will you? I’m bleedin’ like a son of a bitch.” The man strode into the bathroom while Aidan went to the door. “Be out of town tonight. I mean it, pal.” He opened the door and passed the pizza guy on the balcony. “He’s in the john.”

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Pizza delivery didn’t mean Forsythe’s man hadn’t seen Randie. Either he hadn’t yet been to Dolly’s, or he’d seen her and didn’t want her to know it. It was time to get to the bottom of this. Aidan returned to his truck and moved it to the road separating the businesses from the homes behind them. He backed into the access alley between the hardware store and the thrift shop and cut the engine. Dolly’s would be closing in twenty minutes. He stepped out and closed the truck door, but waited, listening to the night. His breath plumed on the frigid air. The moon perched high in the sky, not quite full, poised like a ball tossed in the air about to make its descent. Aidan didn’t know if it was a good sign or bad that he couldn’t scent Faulkner. On Sunday night Dolly’s still had customers at nine thirty, but these appeared to be mostly families finishing dinner out. Nobody sat at the bar. He took a stool and brought out his phone. A text alert showed Forsythe had transferred an additional thousand into his account. The transaction ID read “intrusion compensation.” Aidan frowned. “Bad news?” Sandra appeared in front of him and picked up a bus tray. “Naw, just spam.” “Oh, hey, Aidan.” Randie sashayed down the length of the bar and slid a tray of clean mugs under the counter. “I have two tables and I’m helping close, so I’m going to be a while.” “You can cut out early if you want,” Sandra offered. “Jose and I can close up.” “Are you sure?” “Of course. It’s usually just the two of us. It’ll keep me from getting lazy.” Sandra grinned at Aidan. “She’s a big help. I don’t know how she can keep up this pace all night. My speed slows with the hour.” “I’m so used to working nights I can’t get to sleep until one or two anymore.” Randie capped up the open bottles behind the bar. “You want a beer? My boyfriend drinks on the house.”

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She smiled, turning pink at the cheeks. It was the first time she’d referred to him as her boyfriend. He supposed “fuck buddy” was a little crass for a girl like Randie. And he couldn’t deny he liked the sound of it. “A light beer,” he conceded. “How about an Amstel? I like the way it tastes on you,” she said in a soft voice, as though confessing a private, erotic fetish. The cook looked through the pass window at the other end of the bar. “Randie, leftovers are ready for five.” She slid him the beer. “Once these two tables cash out, I can go.” Aidan sipped the beer and checked his e-mail. Jillian had sent him an encrypted message he couldn’t read on the phone. Randie went across the room to talk to her customers. He dialed up Jillian, knowing she’d be awake. “What’s up?” He heard the theme song for a popular television program go muted in the background. “I can’t confirm yet, but it looks like you were right. We may have a mole.” He ground his teeth. Other than his accountant, who was from a professional firm and had no idea of his true nature, his company employed pack members exclusively. Not only couldn’t he imagine which one of them might be a traitor; he didn’t want to. The knowledge soured his mood. “Someone sneaked into the server using a back door,” Jillian explained. “But I can’t find a fingerprint to indicate it was hacked. From what I can tell, it’s an inside job. Someone left the door open, so to speak.” “Jesus.” “I know. The idea makes me sick. To think someone here looks at me and says ‘good morning,’ and they’re stabbing me in the back.” She didn’t know how accurate that thought was. Aidan knew it wasn’t Jillian. He’d saved her life and her future, literally. Her mate had been murdered by a rival pack Alpha, and Jillian had been seized by the brutal leader who

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wanted her as a sexual slave. She’d been given a choice: submit or die. Aidan saved her and let her join his pack unmated. At thirty-nine, she claimed never to want to be mated again, and Aidan was content to let her choose for herself if she ever did. He’d given her life, freedom, and choice. Jillian was the last person who would turn against him. Still that didn’t mean it wasn’t someone out of her old life. “Do you think it could be someone from Rye Hill?” “I’d know,” she said softly. “If any of your pack even went in the same room with one of them, I’d smell it on them for days. It’s a scent I’ll never forget.” Randie was at the register near the entry to the kitchen. Aidan sighed, and Jillian was silent for a moment too. “Besides, why would they want to? They were as glad you did what you did as I was. No one resents you, Aidan.” “Whoever it is, we need to find them.” “Agreed,” she said. “In the meantime, I went to the bank today and changed the password. Not that anyone besides you and me knew it, but I didn’t want to take any chances.” “Good thinking.” “I installed a digital tracer, so if someone lets this intruder in again, I’ll know who it is—if it comes from this office or from one of ours connecting remotely, that is. Maybe it is a hacker.” “Maybe. Keep me informed.” “Will do, boss.” Randie grabbed her purse from behind the bar. She moved into the kitchen hall and came out a minute later wearing a jacket. He smiled when he saw it. “You like?” She walked toward him, pretending to model. “The very latest in fashion from Silver Creek Thrift. Twelve dollars. You won’t find a better deal in town.” “It’s better than that flannel shirt excuse.” He put an arm over her shoulder as they walked to the door together. Randie paused to wave and call good night to Sandra. Outside, she breathed deeply and closed her eyes. “I love that smell.”

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Not for the first time, Aidan wondered what the night smelled like to humans. “What smell?” “The crisp, clean snow, the moist earth, the pine. The trees smell richer here.” Her appreciation for nature surprised him, but it wasn’t the first time Randie had shown love for the small pleasures in life. The thick down jacket she was wearing was another surprise. If she had so much money, why was she shopping at the thrift store? Surely the heiress was used to the finest money could buy. She was a mystery he wanted…no, needed to get to the bottom of. “I really like this cabin,” she said as they pulled up the steep drive to his place. “It’s cozy.” “It’s cramped. The shed is bigger.” “It’s comforting, like being swaddled.” She grinned at him. “I thought men liked small places. Less to decorate, easier to clean, and all that.” He parked by the porch and shut off the truck. Aidan caught a strange scent on the air and paused to identify it. A memory sparked and then instantly was gone. It wasn’t Faulkner, but something else. Something werewolf. A breeze brought the odor of damp wood and oil from the old rig in the garage, and the mysterious trace vanished. Randie ran around the truck, circled in front of him, and looped her arm in his. “I feel safe here. I think that’s why I like it so much. It has a rustic, almost historic charm.” “More like ancient. Trust me, the pipes don’t lie.” “We’re all alone out here. I like that feeling.” He flipped on the lights inside. Randie jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. She kissed him wildly, driving him out of his mind. His already engorged cock jumped to eager attention. Don’t talk to her now. Just enjoy the night. Talk tomorrow. But I have to, his mind warred with his dick. Business should always come first. And it wasn’t fair to Randie to keep enjoying her generous love at the same time he was deceiving her. He was quite certain once he told her the truth, her passion for him would disappear. While that felt like a knife to the heart, his conscience wouldn’t let him take advantage. She released her legs as he sat on the couch, and ended up kneeling over his lap. He’d meant to distract her, but now he was at a disadvantage. He liked the feeling of her sitting above him like this. It reminded him of last night when she’d fucked him cowgirl style.

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She increased her kisses, roaming his mouth with her tongue and nipping at his lips. He pried her back by the shoulders. “I’ve created a monster.” “I can’t help it. I love kissing you.” Aidan chuckled. “And I love you kissing me.” She went at him again. And he eased her backward yet again. “We have to talk.” “Before sex?” “About sex.” “Is this because I called you my boyfriend? Aidan, I’m sorry. I swear, no strings. Just sex.” She kissed him again. He went soft, enjoying it too much to stop her. Her hair tickled his cheek, and that wholesome, real scent of hers both calmed and excited him. But it wasn’t fair to her. If she knew the real reason they were together now, she’d probably hate him. He had to prepare himself for that, no matter how badly it would twist his guts. “Randie.” She sat back. “When I asked you why you were in Silver Creek, you weren’t honest with me.” Her expression turned wary. “I told you I wanted a new start. It’s true.” “You’re running from something.” “Family, that’s all.” He detected a note of irritation in her insistence. “I’m not a criminal. I didn’t rob a bank or kill someone or anything like that.” “Why are you running from family?” “What does that matter?” She frowned. “I’m not married, if that’s what you think.” “Madeline, be honest with me.” Her demeanor transformed, and he realized his mistake. Madeline. He’d called her by her real name.

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Chapter Nine “Who are you?” The past came rushing in, making her head spin. What do I do, where do I go, how do I get safe again… “I told you the truth; my name is Aidan Chase,” he said with a nod. “I’m a bounty hunter. Tracking is my specialty.” “My father hired you.” She dismounted his lap and sat on the cushion next to him. Her heart raced, making black spots hover in her vision. It was hard to draw a breath. Trying to run would be pointless. No matter where she went, no matter how fast she ran, he would find her. He had to. It was a matter of life and death for him. She stared at the glowing embers of the dying fire, letting her eyes blur the shades of orange, yellow, and red into a swirling mass of violence. How could she be so stupid? Not because she trusted Aidan—that had been natural, and there wasn’t anything wrong with trusting a charming, handsome man. The true fault was held by the man who would take advantage of her naïveté, her own trusting nature. Her innocence. But even as she told herself she should, she couldn’t blame Aidan. Being with him had been good for them both. No, her true stupidity was in thinking her father couldn’t find her. She shot a look over her shoulder. “Did he pay you to seduce me?” “God no, Randie. What happened between us, that was all real.” “Do you always sleep with your…whatever I am?” He shook his head and reached to touch her, but then seemed to think better of it. “Never. You’re unique. If you believe anything, I want that to be it.” She frowned. “A tracker, huh? Like in the Old West?”

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“Sort of. I’m good at sniffing people out.” She dropped her head into her hands and rubbed the tension out of her forehead. “Now what? You drag me back?” At his silence, she looked at him again. He shook his head. “You’re an adult. I can’t make you go anywhere. All I do is report your whereabouts to the client.” Panic welled up and seized her throat. She twisted to face him. “You told him where I am?” “No, not yet. He only wants to know you’re safe and for you to return the money. He wants this handled quietly. That’s why he didn’t call the police.” This was crazy. In seconds her life had crashed into horror again. Of course he hadn’t called the police; he couldn’t risk exposing himself. Her thoughts twisted back to Aidan’s odd statement. “What money?” His expression was severe, sending a hot bolt of regret lancing through her chest. “You took a lot of money, Randie.” The confusion gave way to crystal clear understanding. Her father had lied. Lied and connived, as he did best. Poor Aidan, he didn’t even realized he’d played the fool. She shook her head. “There’s no money.” He didn’t seem to hear. His attention shot to the door behind them. Aidan held up two fingers. “Someone’s outside.” He pushed off the couch. “Stay here.”

The look Randie gave him back chilled him to the bone. Her expression revealed the deep level of fear she’d tumbled into. She knelt on the couch, one hand gripping the frame, watching him go. At best the intruder was the goon from the hotel. At worst, the owner of the unknown scent he’d detected earlier. Faulkner ranked somewhere in the middle. He pulled the door softly closed behind him, though if it was another werewolf, they would hear the snick of the tongue in the hasp, the creak of the porch. Scent him on the wind.

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Faulkner. Once outside Aidan smelled him in return. Forget stealth. He stalked across the snow-encrusted area separating the cabin from the shed. “Faulkner, you piece of shit, show your ugly face.” “Aidan’s being a baaad boy.” Faulkner crouched on the roof, peering down at him with an amused expression. Naked. He’d run up here in wolf form. “I don’t like being followed.” Aidan raised his brows. “What do you want, mongrel?” “Tracker’s being tracked. But not by me. Nooo, not by me. Not a very good tracker, are you, if you can’t detect being tracked yourself.” He didn’t need Faulkner to tell him someone else was here, but he wanted to know who it was, and the rogue obviously knew something. “Get down here and talk like a human, or get your ass kicked like a beta.” Faulkner shape-shifted. His lips pulled back in a snarl. Wolf’s eyes gleamed in the light of the full moon. Spittle hung from his bared teeth. “Impressive, or it might be if I were a human. Don’t be stupid, Faulkner. You can’t beat me.” He heard the creak of wood at the cabin. Randie’s scream cut through the night, pulling their attention. “Aidan!” “Get back inside, Randie.” “Look out!” He whirled around in time to see Faulkner leaping at him.

The wolf on the roof jumped at Aidan when his back was turned. She screamed and took a step off the porch. Aidan twisted and dived to his hands and knees. The next instant, it wasn’t Aidan anymore. A gray wolf appeared where Aidan had just been. Randie blinked. The world had skipped a beat, like a movie with a section of reel cut out.

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The other, a darker animal with some reddish brown mixed in his coat, landed in front of the shed. Randie blinked again. Blood rushed through her eardrums. The gray wolf was caught in the yellow T-shirt Aidan had been wearing. His jeans lay crumpled on the ground. It can’t be. She was imagining it. Impossible. In the background of her thoughts, her father’s face loomed like a ghostly overlay, as though he were the reason for all this. He’s coming. None of this is real. I’m having a nightmare. But it was a nightmare she couldn’t shake herself awake from. Her heart kicked against her ribs, instinct screaming at her to run, but Randie couldn’t move. Her frantic mind couldn’t choose a safe direction—even back into the cabin was too frightening to consider. The wolves seemed to square off against each other over a heartbeat; then they leaped at each other like…like wild animals. The gray snarled and growled louder than anything she’d ever imagined. The sound alone convinced her that what she was seeing was real, but she still could not fathom how the scene unfolding before her had come to be. Where had they come from? The other barked and yelped in return but was clearly no match for the bigger wolf. Their ferociousness snapped her back to reality. What she was seeing was so surreal, so impossible, yet it was happening right in front of her. No. No, no! Randie stumbled as she collided with the steps, only now realizing she’d been backing away. Snow whipped up around their frenzied paws. The brown wolf rolled the gray, and just as quickly the gray reclaimed the advantage. The gray was still tangled in the yellow T-shirt. Aidan’s T-shirt. The brown wolf managed a vicious bite but came away with only the T-shirt. It tossed its head, flinging the tatters away. The gray seized the moment of distraction and attacked. The brown wolf let out a yelp and skittered away. The gray advanced, teeth bared hideously. Even across the yard she could see its fury. It let out a growl and a fierce, snarling bark so frightening the hairs on her arms rose.

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The brown wolf raced away. The gray lifted its head, ears pricked, watching it go. She didn’t know much about wild animals, yet the behavior of the gray seemed odd for a wolf. As quickly as it was over, she began to doubt she’d really seen it at all. Yet the wolf was still there, a nightmarish vision she couldn’t blink away. Aidan did not turn into this animal. It was an illusion, a reaction to stopping my meds, a trick of the moon. The full moon. The gray wolf turned toward her. Its eyes flashed with a silver gleam as their gazes connected. She turned, tripped over the step, and sprawled onto the porch. Her palm stung as a thick splinter gouged deep. She scrambled to her feet, sprang for the door, and crashed into it. Her wrist twisted painfully on the unyielding knob. She turned, leaping off the side of the porch. She fell to her knees in the snow but pushed up and ran, lungs burning. A few steps into the thick woods behind the cabin and the trees all but blocked out the moon. Shadows fell through the bare branches of alder, confusing the landscape. She stepped wrong on a fallen log and twisted her ankle. Fell down again. “Randie.” His voice echoed, far away, as if from a dream. “Randie!” At the forefront of her awareness, she understood she was now exposed, running— limping—helplessly through the wolves’ domain. She stopped. She had to get back to the cabin. A heavy body crashed into her. She fell to the ground, screaming and clawing even as she recognized Aidan on top of her. “Randie, stop!” He seized her wrists and pinned them over her head. His chest was bare, but he was wearing his jeans. “It’s okay,” he said in a softer voice. “Calm down.” Her panic only mounted. She couldn’t draw in a breath. The forest dimmed as her vision narrowed to a pinprick, then snapped out.

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*** Randie awoke to the sound of footsteps crunching in snow. She jostled in his arms. She leaned into the warmth of him, loving the feel of his hard chest and solid arms cradling her. She slid in and out of memories, confusing this moment with the night she’d wrecked her car. Blood. She smelled it the same instant she saw it on his shoulder. She jerked awake. “Aidan.” “It’s okay.” He mounted the steps of the porch. She struggled free, and he set her on her feet. Her twisted ankle throbbed. “What happened?” He opened the cabin door. “Come inside.” “I don’t think so!” “Randie, Jesus, we don’t have time for this.” He pulled her inside by the wrist and shoved the door shut. A moment’s panic closed off her throat. That door was her only means of escape. “I don’t want to believe what I saw. But you’re bleeding.” All he wore were his jeans; even his feet were bare. He led her to the couch and urged her to sit. She trembled, noodley and weak, and collapsed onto the cushions. Her stomach felt like it was attached to her ribs by bungee cords. “I’m all right. Look.” He swiped his hand across his shoulder. It smeared the blood away, letting her see there was no wound. “It’s not your blood?” She lifted her gaze to his. Maybe she hadn’t seen what she thought she had. But his gaze was resolute, revealing the seriousness of the situation. He hesitated. “No. It isn’t.” “But…” He grabbed her hand. She winced. He twisted her wrist to look at her palm. “I have to get that out.” She pulled back. “Just leave me alone.” “Sweetheart, listen to me. I need you to stay calm.”

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She burst with a gasp that was half laugh, half derision. All insanity. “Yeah, sorry.” He stood. “Don’t try to run away. It isn’t safe for you outside.” She swallowed down a lump of hot fear. Those words had a threatening ring that made her shudder. He went to the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder before he stepped into the hall. She could tell he didn’t trust her. This was a waking nightmare. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Her situation had gone from bad to worse. Horribly, ghoulishly worse. He came back with a small kit. “I don’t have much, but at least I can get that sliver out and wrap your hand.” Numbness took over as she held out her palm. Hopelessness followed immediately behind. Her life was over. As hard as she’d tried to escape, no matter the lengths she’d gone to to hide herself, it hadn’t been nearly enough. It never would. “This is going to hurt.” He yanked the sliver out with tweezers. “Ouch.” Tears sprang to her eyes, as much from the pain as the distress. He placed his hand over the wound and cupped her hand between his. A moment of silence passed, but she didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m sorry, Randie.” “Bullshit.” He sighed and fished in the first aid kit. “This will sting.” “Yeah, it did.” She was being childish, true enough, but he probably thought she was just a spoiled little girl hiding from her rich daddy. If only he knew. He poured ointment on the wound. It burned and made her hiss a breath through her teeth. She swallowed as her stomach threatened to revolt. This was all too much. “What the hell was that out there?” “You saw it. I shifted.” “You shifted. You’re a wolfman.”

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“I’m a werewolf.” She laughed. It was absurd, but the laughter came from deep in her belly, and there was no holding it back. Suddenly some of the things he said made sense. “I’m good at sniffing people out.” “Nothing makes me feel more human than brushing my teeth.” “I’m part dog.” “And the other…?” She didn’t know what to call him. Man? Wolf? Creature? Monster? Aidan wrapped her hand with gauze and secured it with tape. “He’s a werewolf too.” He zipped up the first aid kit, then looked into her eyes, glancing from one to the other as if gauging her sanity. “You’re safe with me. You know that?” She took a deep breath. She wanted to believe him. These were the concerned blue eyes of the man she’d already come to trust and admire more than she had any other person in her whole life. She’d opened herself to him in the most intimate way possible, allowing him to see her, touch her, possess her. She wished she could close her eyes and dream away the last horrible twenty minutes. To wake up in his soft bed, wrapped in his strong arms. But that wouldn’t happen. She’d seen him turn into a wolf, for God’s sake. And she’d learned he’d deceived her in the most wretched way possible. He was working for her evil father. “No. I don’t know that.” “I would never hurt you,” he said in a whisper. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She closed her eyes, teetering on the edge of a dangerous precipice. Absurdly she didn’t know which was worse—that her father would stop at no limits to get her back, or that the man she’d happily lost her virginity to was a werewolf. No, that couldn’t possibly be right. Nightmares and reality were mixing, ignited by horror. But truly, what did it matter anyway? Aidan was still the almost too-perfect human male with

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muscles in all the right places that she’d explored in detail, inch by delicious inch. He was still the compassionate lover who’d worshipped every inch of her right back with gentle hands and patient tenderness. He was still a civilized man with an unruffled manner, calmly and competently taking composed control of a situation that had her nearly going out of her mind. He’d simply turned into a wolf. A small flaw, if you considered all his other qualities. I’m going to wake up, and this bad dream will be all over. I can hardly wait for morning. “Stay here while I get some dry clothes on. Then we’re leaving.” His voice drifted over her thoughts as if from far away. She swallowed but didn’t answer. Too late for her to hide it, he proved he saw the gears turning in her head. “Don’t try to leave.” There was danger in his words, and she shivered. “Randie, I’m serious. You aren’t safe outside.” “Okay.” “Just sit here while I get my clothes.” She nodded. “I’ll just be a minute.” He stood and walked into the hall but paused. “I run really fast as a wolf.” As though a light switch flipped in her brain, she considered her problem with a surprisingly clear head, despite all she had just seen. She would run, but now was not the time. Sooner or later he’d let his guard down. Up here in the woods, she had no chance. This was wolves’ territory. Here, he ruled. But in town there were people she could run to for help. He couldn’t force her onto a plane; there were authorities at airports, people who would stop him. And if he planned to drive her all the way back to New Hampshire—still, she’d find her opportunity.

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Chapter Ten Aidan emerged from the bedroom dressed in black chinos and a clingy gray shirt under a black leather jacket. She looked him over, then looked away. As outrageously handsome as the sleek clothes transformed him, she refused to go mushy, even though tears were dangerously close. He held a duffel bag in one hand. He set it down and knelt on the far side of the living room coffee table. It had a small drawer under the top. He pulled out the drawer and removed the contents, then lifted a false bottom. Aidan held up a sleek silver handgun and checked the clip. She gasped and scooted back on the couch. It was some sort of semiautomatic, but that was all she knew. Her father had a collection of guns that could make a retired general drool, but he kept them under lock and key, and that had been more than fine with her. “Let’s go.” “Where?” she demanded. “Tonight? Spokane.” To catch a plane? Her escape might come sooner than she thought. “Can we stop at Carol Ann’s so I can get some clothes?” “I’m afraid not. There’s a very bad man after you. We need to leave now.” “Why is he after me? Did my father hire him too?” “This has nothing to do with your father. It’s my fault.” “How? I don’t understand.” A fierce welling built in her gut and worked its way up into her throat. She swallowed it down, fighting the tears. She would save them for a vulnerable moment when they might be used to influence him, though she sensed a man like Aidan was above tears.

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“I’ll explain later. Right now we need to move.” “I’m not going anywhere with you!” She pulled her arm away when he reached for her, but he was too quick. “Yes. You are.”

*** Randie curled against the passenger door, hunkered down into her jacket, arms wrapped around herself. He ran the heater on full bore, but the old piece-of-shit truck didn’t put out much heat. In the hour they’d been on the road, she hadn’t said a word. He didn’t know why she was so dead set against going home, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it was a serious reason. If he’d learned one thing about Randie, she wasn’t frivolous. And she wasn’t spoiled. The girl worked damn hard as a waitress but appeared to love it. She wore thrift store clothes but never uttered a complaint. Something awful had gone on in that mansion, horrible enough to make the simple life as a honky-tonk waitress in a Podunk town without two nickels to rub together seem like paradise. His imagination led him to dark, vile things. He was not turning her over to the old mummy. He glanced over at Randie. She’d sniffled once or twice but sunk deeper and deeper into that still silence. After what she’d seen tonight, he knew she had to be in shock. He’d only revealed himself to a human once before. That had gone slowly and gently, yet still it had been a stunning blow. Tonight what she’d seen had been ugly and violent and had not come with a gentle introduction. “Was it you in the forest that day?” Her question surprised him. He’d been staring at the yellow line of the dark highway for so long he’d become hypnotized by it, lulled by the sound of the road beneath his tires. He glanced over. “Yeah.” “Did you run in front of my car?” “No. That was…” He almost said a “real” wolf. “I don’t know who that was.” “Maybe that other guy?”

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“Maybe.” They fell into silence again. When he pulled into the driveway of the storage company in Spokane, Randie sent him a confused glance but no longer asked questions about what he had planned. He angled the truck slowly through the aisles of the outdoor units. When he stopped, she got out with him. He opened his unit and started the BMW remotely. He backed it out and put the truck inside. Before shutting the roll-up door, he poured a jug of vinegar on the ground at the edge of the unit. She got into the passenger seat of the sedan without being told to. He pulled out of the unit and immediately got on the freeway again. Anger sizzled from Randie in a wall of heat he could almost see. “I knew you weren’t some hick mechanic. But I had no idea how little I truly knew about you.” “You know me.” He saw her shake her head in his peripheral vision. “Nobody really knows anybody. I can attest to that.” “That’s not true. You know what makes me moan. What makes me shiver. You know how to use your tongue to make me numb with pleasure. What sounds I make when I come.” She looked out the passenger window into the darkness. “I know you have blond hair, but it could be bleached. I know you have blue eyes, but those could be contacts.” “I know you have a soft spot behind your ear. I know you like to have your nipples licked. I know what your body felt like when you had your first orgasm.” “You know I fell into your trap like a naive little fool, too young and dumb to realize she was being conned.” “I didn’t trap you, Randie.” Her only response was a drawn sigh. She powered the seat back down but remained awake for another hour before her breathing deepened and the muscles in her arms relaxed.

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He drove through the darkness wide awake in his guilt, sometimes seeing the glowing eyes of animals off in the distance. Highway 90 was a lonely highway, especially at night. Aidan wished he’d never taken on this job. He glanced at Randie. She looked calmer now, but two lines marred her brow. No, he didn’t wish he’d never taken on this job. Finding Randie was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. He just wished he knew what the hell to do about it. She awoke when he pulled the X5 to a stop at the Motor Lodge, an on-the-edge seedy hotel at the Missoula outskirts. “Where are we?” She sat up and powered the seat back upright. “Just outside Missoula.” “You’re going to drive all the way to New Hampshire?” “We’re not going to New Hampshire. I told you, I’m not taking you back there.” She looked good and hard into his eyes, as if gauging his honesty. He hoped she saw the truth in them. “Stay here while I get us a room.” Wearily she nodded. “Randie—” “I know, I know. You run really fast as a wolf.” At least she hadn’t blocked it out. Some people had the ability to convince themselves they dreamed traumatic events. Uniquely the opposite, Randie seemed to be taking it all in with a degree of calm. No comment on her anger, though. Once again Aidan was convinced something terrible had happened in her past that made this mediocre by comparison. “You’ll feel better after a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. I’ll buy you a huge breakfast, and then we’ll talk. Get everything out.” “Can’t wait.” He didn’t blame her for the sarcasm. In a way he was glad she wasn’t as naive as she’d claimed. Randie wouldn’t be so easy to win forgiveness from, and he liked that about her. She had character and a strong sense of self.

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He paid cash and asked for a room in the back, away from the road. The Motor Lodge was old but seemed well maintained. The room wouldn’t be clean enough to satisfy his heightened senses, but he expected Randie would be comfortable. Once he had keys in hand, he moved the BMW to the backside parking lot. They trudged up the stairs to the second-floor rooms, their breath pluming crystalline clouds that hung in the chilly air. The cold was different here than on the East Coast. There was a silence, a stillness about it that pleased his animal side. It was cleaner here than back east too, even in the woods. “I have a T-shirt you can sleep in.” He dropped his duffel bag on the small table and dug it out. She took it silently and went into the bathroom. The toilet flushed; then the shower started. He dragged the bed’s coverlet off and tossed it on the floor, then tossed on the extra blanket from the closet. He nudged up the thermostat, and the heating unit clanked on with a death rattle. After a long shower, Randie emerged from the steamy bathroom in the T-shirt. Her hair was dry but for a few wet wisps that had escaped the towel she’d wrapped around her head. She crawled into the bed and sat up, watching him. He saw intelligence in her gaze, wisdom beyond her years. A heaviness, an awareness, and acceptance even, of the terrible situation she now found herself faced with. But no condemnation. And what she said made his heart lurch and chills rush over his body. “Will you show me?”

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Chapter Eleven Aidan winced at her question, but he didn’t immediately refuse. She needed to watch him transform, to convince herself what she’d seen had been real, but mostly to satisfy the excited curiosity that was now eating her alive. And she needed to get her mind off her ultimate doom. When he hesitated, she asked, “Are you dangerous?” “Only to my enemies.” His voice had gone rough with an emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint, but he wasn’t smiling. “Please?” He glanced away, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Does it hurt?” A ghost of a smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. “No.” “What’s it like?” “Liberating. Refreshing. Freeing. All my senses are heightened. I love the feel of the earth under my feet, the snow even more. The sensation of running on all fours, every muscle straining. It’s different than exerting while in human form.” Now he did smile, even if it was fleeting. “What?” “I’ve never talked about this with anyone.” The hardness returned to his expression, and he looked away again. “Not since… Not in a long time.” He took a deep breath and rose from the chair. Slowly he peeled out of his leather jacket. He dragged the clingy gray shirt over his head.

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She let her gaze wander his chest, feeling no shame in continuing to desire this man who would bring about the end of her life. And he was a gorgeous specimen of a man. She might as well enjoy what she could in the little time she had left. He sat again only to untie the laces of his boots, then rose and unzipped his chinos. He was bare beneath. He shoved them over his hips and kicked them off with his boots to stand naked and aroused in front of her. Randie smiled bashfully and dipped her chin. She wondered if it was her or the prospect of changing that gave him the erection. Changing. Dear Lord, was this real? She still wanted him. No breathing female wouldn’t, but right now the idea of seeing him transform excited her like nothing ever had. She still could hardly believe it would happen. A werewolf. Jesus. He bent forward and put his arms out as if he was going down on all fours, but before his hands hit the carpet, he shifted. It was a blur, smooth and clean, not ghastly like so many of the Hollywood versions. No tearing of flesh, no cracking of bones. No screams, no blood, no horror. One minute he was human; the next he was a magnificent, beautiful wolf. “My God.” The breath left her lungs in a rush. He stood on all fours, looking at her like a real wolf would—wild and dangerous, as if he saw her for what humans truly were to wolves: a threat. He panted slightly before licking his chops and closing his jaws. His coat was stunning, a mixture of white, gray, and black to give him a silvered look. He was bigger than she’d imagined, but she suspected that was because she’d only seen a real wolf on television and that morning in the forest when he’d stayed a good distance away. “Amazing.” She pushed to her hands and knees. He tensed. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” She held up her hand. She’d forgotten to ask if he could understand her in this form.

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He slowly relaxed. He licked his chops again, for all the world a wild animal. Was Aidan still in there? He’d said he wasn’t dangerous, but even small dogs had vicious bites. “It’s all right. Good boy.” She crept forward. “My God, I’m talking to you like you’re a dog. You’re not a dog. You’re Aidan.” He dipped his head and took a cautious step closer to the bed. She touched the ruff at the back of his neck. Incredible. Randie dug her fingers into it, amazed by the feel. He was both soft and wiry. His coat was thick and long, and she wound her fingers through its luxuriousness. Aidan leaned into her hand like a dog enjoying a good scratch. “My God,” she repeated, at a loss for anything else to say. This was unbelievable. He whined and nudged her hand. She stroked the top of his head. Here the fur was silky soft, a velvet undercoat and longer hairs with shimmering tips that smoothed flat under her palm. Aidan lifted his head, and she stroked the downy softness of his muzzle. He turned into her caress and licked her palm. And then he was Aidan again, kneeling naked at the end of the bed, her palm still against his cheek. He closed his eyes and turned into her touch as if afraid to lose it. She inched closer on her knees. He opened his eyes and rose to his feet, pulling her into his arms. “Aidan.” He silenced her with his kiss, and she abandoned herself to it, wanting to be lost. Aidan balled up the T-shirt at her back and slid his hands beneath it. His palms were warm in contrast to the cool air of the hotel room. Randie broke their kiss, only to lean away and yank the shirt over her head. She surged back into his arms, desperate to reclaim that kiss. Her bare flesh came against his, hypersensitive at all the minute places they touched. He pushed forward, urging her down onto the bed and settled gently on top of her. “Don’t cry,” he said, and she realized she was. “I’m sorry.” She held him to her kiss, not wanting him to look at her like this.

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“Sweetheart, don’t be afraid.” He rolled away and grabbed for his pants. When she saw he’d dug into his pocket for a condom, she took it out of his hand and tossed it away. “No. I want to feel you.” She pulled his hand to her breast and urged him to squeeze. “There won’t be any consequences, Aidan. I’m not going to live that long.” “I’m going to protect you.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “You have to believe that.” Two tears escaped, but she managed to smile. “You can’t.” Aidan kissed her lips lightly. “I’ll die before I let anyone hurt you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Just touch me.” Randie slid against him, wanting to touch him at every point possible. His body felt strong and capable, solid with permanence. She wished she could believe his promises. He ran his hands over her as smoothly as water, cupping each breast and squeezing gently. “So perfect.” “Too small,” she whispered, trying to lighten her sad mood. “Just right.” His magic hands helped her forget everything else. Adoring kisses trailed lower, across her jaw and down her throat, over her collarbone and into the U-shaped indentation at the base of her neck. She touched his silky hair, remarking how different it was from his wolf’s fur. This mighty man, also a beautiful wolf. What a magnificent miracle. He placed gentle kisses over her breasts, proving his belief they were perfect with a touch that was pure worship. If he was hers just for this night, for these few, short moments, he proved he was worthy with his devoted tenderness. He closed his lips over her nipple, pulling with soft sucks that drove her into oblivion. Aidan moved to the other and loved it the same way, leaving her lost of time and place. “Do you want me, Randie?” She knew the question had a double meaning. Not just about the sex but the man. “I want you, Aidan.”

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He rose above her, positioning himself as he looked into her eyes. Her tears had dried, and she stared back intensely, wanting him to know how urgently she truly did want him. The cap of his sex met her waiting pussy. He used his hand to guide it up and down, anointing himself with her liquid heat. She dragged in a breath. His bare flesh touching hers felt magnificent. His body was a perfect match to hers, the smooth crown of him a perfect fit to the hidden furrow between her legs. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feel of him preparing to take her. As inexperienced as she was, she’d already come to know the satisfaction of this ultimate claiming, the emotional as well as physical satisfaction, and gave herself up to it needfully. “Randie.” She opened her eyes. He pushed himself into her slowly, but with the strength of a man claiming what was his. She ached with sadness for what could never be. He was so caring and gentle a new rush of tears stung her eyes. She’d never imagined it would feel this much better without a condom separating them. He watched her as he withdrew slightly and pushed into her again, working himself deeper. Once penetrated to the hilt, she pulled his shoulders until he lay down close. He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay?” Randie nodded, pressing her cheek against his. “Just stay inside me.” He moved slowly, following her cue. She shifted beneath him, loving the way he felt inside her, nothing but the two of them. Her sigh was followed by his moan, and she felt his nearing climax in the tension in his muscles. His skin grew warmer and slicked with sweat. She pulled at his back, urging him to possess her deeper. “Come in me,” she told him. “Come inside me.” He seized her kiss as every muscle in his body grew tight. Warm, almost ticklish pleasure started in the deepest part of her and rolled outward like ripples on a still pond. It built in peaks and surges. She reached toward it, seeking the beauty and glory of it. Slickness between her legs

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made her wonderfully slippery. She cried out as bliss overwhelmed her, blinded her, made her deaf. Aidan finished inside her with a sigh and finally went still. He brushed soft kisses over her forehead, eyelids, and cheeks. “Stay with me.” “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. “I wish that were true.” He leaned away only enough to look into her eyes. “You’re my mate, Randie. I knew it when I first caught your scent. I know something terrible happened to you before, and you don’t have to tell me what it was. But know this: I’ve claimed you, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

*** Morning sun gleamed brilliantly off new snow, illuminating the thin curtains at the hotel window. The room glowed with gold light. He pressed close behind Randie, touching her in as many places as possible. He’d been awake for hours. His cock, fixed between her legs to press against her damp pussy, had gone hard and soft about a hundred times this morning. He selfishly yearned to take her again even though he knew it would be too much for her. Her purity brought out the animal in him like no other woman had ever before. He couldn’t put into words how thrilled he was to be her first, and he would never tire of indulging in her ripe little body. She was all his, untouched by another. He’d never imagined the feeling could be so incredible. He couldn’t get enough of her. But there were more pressing issues at hand that threw a cold dousing on his libido. Faulkner was after her for God only knew what reason. Retaliation? Revenge? Jealousy? And on top of that, Randie was hiding a terrible secret he had to get to the bottom of. “Where are we going?” she asked in half-awake voice.

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“Someplace safe.” He rose and headed for the bathroom, not bothering to tell her to stay put. She either would or wouldn’t. How did the old saying go? If you loved something, set it free. If it didn’t come back, it was never meant to be. He stood under a too-hot shower, letting the spray bite his skin. He hated that it washed away traces of Randie’s essence. If he emerged and found her gone, a piece of his soul would break. When he shut off the water, he heard the television singing from the other room. His tension still coiled tightly until he emerged and found her sitting in bed. She’d braided up her hair and slipped into his T-shirt again. He crossed the room naked and hunted down his strewnabout clothes, then sat in the chair and dressed. She shut off the TV and watched him. He could tell by her expression her mood was different than it had been last night. He didn’t blame her. Now that the awe had faded, she was back to dreading going home. He had to know why. “You want to start at the beginning?” she prompted. “I was about to ask you that.” He gave her a smile, reassuring her his claim that she could trust him was true. “How about we start with us first?” “Okay.” “You know what I am.” Her unflinching expression hid any hints of emotion. “Are you okay with it?” “Gee, I don’t know. Do you bite?” “Only when you ask me to.” She grinned but tried to hide it. It was adorable on her. “Do you pee on the furniture?” Now it was his turn to laugh. “Never.” “Drink out of the toilet bowl?” “God no.” She let herself smile with him. “Then I think it’s pretty awesome.”

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He went to sit on the edge of the bed near her. She took his hand. “Who’s the other guy?” He took a long breath, debating whether or not to tell her. He had to, he decided. She deserved to know. “His name is Faulkner. Before I was Alpha, we were in the same pack. We exist in clans, sort of like what you see on TV.” At her quirk of brows, he went on. “Most folklore is based on truth. Hollywood has run wild, but sometimes we see little glimmers of accuracy that make us laugh.” “So you’re a pack leader,” she prompted, obviously curious. He nodded. “Like most, my pack is a small group of close-knit members. Family and friends. Many packs are hundreds of years old. My pack is called White Oak. We descended from the Chippewa.” Her eyes widened. “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed you to be an American Indian.” “My mother’s ancestors are from Northern Europe. You know there are no indigenous wolves in England? They were collateral damage in the werewolf hunts of the sixteenth century. Werewolves were exposed and all wolves hunted to extinction.” She released his hand to touch his arm. “That’s so sad.” “We had more places to hide here in the new world.” “There’s a lot of you here?” He nodded again. “You’d be surprised.” “Last week I would have been. Not today.” Aidan chuckled, admiring her tenacity. “Faulkner is nothing more than a petty thug. He pursued a sweet young girl named Isabella, but she rejected him. He went to our Alpha, at the time my father, and petitioned for her. Without other prospects of her own, she was granted to him. But there was no love there. And with wolf packs, the purpose is to reproduce. So the women in our pairings—” “She was a sex slave to a man she despised.” He closed his eyes. “Pretty much.”

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“And you pulled her out.” “She refused him. When my father died, I had the power to free her. As pack leader, my responsibility to protect her outweighed my obligation to see her mated.” She held up her hand. “So let me get this straight. Pack Alphas decide who the women in their group have to marry?” He smiled. “It’s not quite so medieval, I promise.” He reminded himself she knew nothing of his kind. “Some leaders take a stronger role than others, just like family members of some cultures. Believe it or not, arranged marriages still exist in some countries, even here in the US. Mostly pack members choose each other, especially in American groups, just like American young people. But if a female doesn’t find her own mate, she’ll get paired. The most important thing is carrying on the pack’s line.” “So if they don’t find their true love, they get turned into a baby factory. Yeah, right. That’s not medieval at all.” “With us, it’s not like dating and finding a compatible spouse. We know if we’re fated to be together. I never fully believed in the whole ‘fated mates’ thing because it hadn’t happened to me, but now that I’ve met you, I understand. You’re special to me. I knew it when I first scented you. There is something there I’ve never felt before. You’re my mate, Randie.” He expected that would make her blush or at least smile, but Randie was staring at him with a guarded intensity. “What happened to Isabella?”

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Chapter Twelve “Did you love her?” Randie prompted when he didn’t answer. Aidan shifted on the edge of the bed, bracing his elbows on his knees to drive his fingers through still-damp hair. “She was murdered.” She was afraid he was going to say it was a tragic accident, but murder topped that with the reminder that Aidan was a very dangerous man with a very dangerous secret. She swallowed. “I’m sorry.” “And yes, I loved her.” He dragged a sharp breath in and pushed it out. “But it wasn’t meant to be. Maybe that’s why she was killed. I wasn’t devoted enough to her; I didn’t protect her. Honestly I never thought he would—” He cut off when she placed her hand on his back. “Don’t blame yourself for the crimes other people commit.” She blinked quickly to dash the moisture she didn’t want him to see in her eyes. He’d called her his mate. If he truly believed it, she had to crush his hopes right now. She couldn’t be anyone’s mate. She wanted to be. Oh, how she wanted to be. It sounded like a fairy tale, like a dream come true. How wonderful to spend the rest of her life next to him, to wake up beside him after nights of passionate love spent in each other’s arms. If only. “So this guy is after me now?” Aidan’s long pause made her tension climb. “I’m not sure what his goals are,” he finally said in a low voice, but his tone was dark. “All I know is he showed up in Silver Creek about four days after I did.” “Then he’s not really after me, but a way to get to you.”

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“I’d call that a safe bet.” He angled to face her again. “I won’t let him hurt you, I swear it. Him or your father.” Her situation was so pathetic she could almost laugh. Last week she’d thought her life couldn’t get any worse. Now she had the leading role in a monster movie. “What are we going to do?” When he took her hand, she let him wind his fingers within hers. “First off, we need to get your father off our trail. He’s my client, and I need to close this case.” She pulled her hand free and smoothed the sheet covering her knees. “You need to be honest with me.” His brows drew together, his gaze intense. “Where is the money, Randie?” She threw the blanket off her legs and shoved from the bed. “This is a nightmare.” She paced the room in angry strides before stopping in the center and facing him, hands on her hips. “There is no money.” Aidan visibly clung to his calm. “He hired me to retrieve two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” She fell into the chair. “Jesus.” “I need to know what’s going on. You don’t have to tell me why you left if you’re not comfortable, but I need to know why he’s claiming you took money from him.” She pressed the heels of her hands to her forehead. “He told you he didn’t care about the money as much as my safe return. Am I right?” He nodded, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. Surely he could see how he’d been manipulated. “God.” She dropped her hands between her knees, then stood. “I didn’t steal two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I cost him two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.” “I don’t understand.” Randie went to stand by the window. She gazed through the narrow slit in the curtains. The gentle morning light filtered through. For a moment she let herself stand there, soaking up its warmth. “He told you I had siblings.”

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“Yes.” “A sister and two brothers.” “He said they’d died in an accident.” His voice was soft now. How many wretched lies had he told? Her father had no conscience. No, he was a man without a soul. He hadn’t cared any more for her siblings than he did for her. She shook her head. “That isn’t true. My eldest brother died before I was born. My sister when I was too young to have known her. Then my second brother when I was six. I hardly remember him.” “How?” There was hesitance in the question. She could tell a part of him didn’t want to know how the story ended, but the logical part of him, the professional part, needed to know. Randie turned away from the window and went to him. She sat on the bed next to him and took his hand, holding it in both of hers and weaving her fingers into his. She didn’t want to share this with him, but she had to. It made her sick to her stomach and was humiliating to recount to another person, especially one she cared about like she did Aidan. She wished she were normal, could have a normal life with him. As normal as a person could have with a werewolf, anyway. “He isn’t my father. He’s just my maker.” “That doesn’t make sense,” he said, but now his voice was gentle. “He is a very sick man.” Aidan nodded. “I could tell. I could smell it.” “He suffers from hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.” “Enlargement of the heart?” “Technically it’s the thickening of the heart walls. There is an assortment of other complications that go with it and side effects that can differ in cause and severity by patient, but essentially the story is the same for everyone afflicted with it. He needs a heart transplant. That’s where I come in.”

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Aidan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What do you mean, that’s where you come in?” Randie looked him straight in the eye. “He needs my heart.” He couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Randie.” Her expression didn’t change. “That’s unbelievable.” “And being a werewolf isn’t?” she threw back at him. She had a point. In the back of his mind, the pieces clicked into place, but at the forefront it was too horrible to fathom. He didn’t want it to be true. “A small number of people with the condition do experience significant symptoms and could be at risk. For instance, you’ve probably heard of these young athletes who suddenly collapse? They’re otherwise healthy, and if it hasn’t already been diagnosed, like if there’s a history in the family, they probably don’t even know they have the condition until something catastrophic happens.” He nodded. There had recently been a highly publicized case of a kid everyone thought would go pro, who collapsed and died on the floor of his high school gym during a championship basketball game. “That’s a little scary.” “It’s very scary. But in most cases having hypertrophic cardiomyopathy doesn’t affect a person’s quality of life, at least not until they get older or complications arise. But at my father’s age, if he were to get sick, like with the flu, the stress could exacerbate it.” “Why didn’t he get a heart transplant years ago?” “From what I gather from the papers I found, his condition wasn’t serious enough to put him at the top of the donor list when he was younger. He’s known he had it since he was sixteen.” She shrugged. “You know younger people. They think they’re invincible. It isn’t until later in life, when a person starts feeling the effects, that it becomes a reality. Anyway, even with all his money, he couldn’t get scheduled for a transplant. Then he must have gotten the idea to create his own.”

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A shiver passed over Aidan. “You’re telling me he’s planned to butcher his own kids since before your oldest brother was born?” Again it was almost too unbelievable to put into words. Almost. From the haunted look in her eyes, Aidan could tell that was exactly what she believed. Heaven help him, he was beginning to believe it too. As outrageous as it sounded, the pieces of this odd puzzle were finally clicking into place. “I told you, we aren’t his kids, just his offspring. My brothers and sister were conceived the same way I was. He paid a stranger to give him a child. He offered my mother two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to have me and walk away.” “I don’t understand.” He still could not wrap his mind around it. “If you learned all this, why didn’t you go to the police?” “And tell them what?” She threw up her hands. “I only learned about it six months ago, and I just ran. I was so stunned I didn’t think to take any of the papers I’d found. It was all I could do to put them back so he wouldn’t know. I walked around that house like a zombie for two days, scared out of my mind. Then I just took off. I expected him to send that dumb goon after me, but I never thought he’d hire someone like you.” “Of course he would.” Eldridge Forsythe was not the kind of man to let anyone thwart him. “Jesus.” Randie was innocent and naive. It was a miracle she’d gotten this far alone. “What would you do if you learned someone wanted to murder you?” she demanded. “What would I tell the police, Aidan? ‘Excuse me, I’ve just learned my father wants to cut out my heart.’ They’d lock me up in a loony bin. Even you’re looking at me like I’m crazy.” Aidan shoved a hand through his hair. “I don’t think you’re crazy.” But could she have misunderstood something she’d read? He rose and paced the room. “How could he hide this for so long? Nobody asked questions when your sister and brothers all died from it?” He turned back to face her, needing the answer. His own heart felt thick when he saw her eyes glistening with tears. “The joke’s on him. I’m sick too.” He felt like she’d just thrown a bucket of icy water on him. He stopped pacing, then stalked over to her and hauled her up by the arms. “No. You’re wrong.”

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She sagged against him, limp, choking over a sob. “I learned when I was sixteen, just like he did. It’s why I exercise and eat healthy. At first I thought I could overcome it or at least battle it. I didn’t know anything about his plans to harvest my heart.” He gently set her back down on the bed, suddenly worried she was fragile and would break if he didn’t take absolute care. She went limply along, looking as numb as he felt. He lifted her chin and stared into her amber eyes. Silver trails crossed her cheeks. “My father sees two specialists. One at Cedar Mount who treats him officially and a cardiologist named Hastings who sees him in private. That’s his conspirator. He’s been in my father’s employ almost twenty-five years.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “One Tuesday a month he spends most of the day at Cedar Mount Hospital. On one of those Tuesdays about seven months ago, I answered a call from a lawyer handling my mother’s probate. My father had been blocking the attempts to reach me. She’d died a few weeks earlier, leaving me the remainder of the money he’d paid her. There was just under eighteen thousand dollars left. After that, I got myself a disposable cell phone and met with the lawyer in private. By then I was suspicious, so I waited until my father went back to the hospital on a Tuesday and searched his office. That was when I found the paperwork. I’m the healthiest of all my siblings. They’d all had much more severe symptoms and died of the condition when they were children. But even though I was healthy, he’d had to wait until I was mature enough that my heart would be a compatible match.” Aidan’s stomach swam with nausea. This couldn’t be happening. What a stroke of brilliant luck he’d been hired on this case. He’d be damned if he was going to let that old raisin cut out Randie’s heart. “I’m his last chance. His doctor has also been examining me and diagnosed my genetic defect, but the fact that I’m so much younger makes me a good candidate anyhow. In simple terms, my heart is bad, but it’s better than his.” “I thought heart transplants didn’t have to be from next of kin,” Aidan said. “I didn’t think there were as many compatibility factors as, say, bone marrow transplants.” “It’s complicated.” She sighed as she said it. “For the most part that’s true. But there is a host of other issues, and blood type has to be the same. Every year there are as many as two thousand people waiting for heart transplants who aren’t going to get them. You could say he’s

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the victim of poetic justice. When he was younger he wasn’t sick enough to receive a heart, even with his wealth and power. Now he’s older and sicker, thus still not a good candidate.” “How long does that old fucker want to live, anyway?” Aidan mumbled. He shoved to his feet and resumed pacing the tiny hotel room. “What is he, like, eighty?” She gave him a sad smile. “He’s sixty-one. He looks older because his health is deteriorating.” “I’m surprised he hasn’t done something criminal…” He glanced over at Randie, sorry he’d started to say so. “I wondered that myself, but Dr. Hastings’s papers had personal notes about what has become my father’s decades-long obsession with cultivating a heart from a direct descendant. Not only doesn’t he want all the uncertainty of an organ from a stranger; the last thing my father wants is to prolong his life only to spend it sitting in jail for some criminal act.” As if killing his own child weren’t criminal enough. He saw it less heinous to rip the heart out of a sweet, kind girl like Randie, his own flesh and blood. Humans could be so sick. “That bastard. How does he think he can get away with this?” “He’s set up a surgical room in the house and planned to have the surgery at home. Dr. Hastings is going to perform the procedure. Remember, he’s been planning this for years.” Aidan hadn’t meant physically get away with it; he’d meant morally. Ethically. He shot her a glance, and the sight of her, lost and hopeless, rocked a punch to his gut. “When I was two, kidnappers tried to snatch me for ransom. Now I’m doubting it ever happened, but it was the excuse my father used to keep me privately tutored. When I got older and wanted to go to public school, he used that excuse, and later my illness, to keep me home.” She shrugged. “Nobody will notice me missing.” Aidan sat beside her again and gripped her arm. “I will. There’s no amount of money that old bastard could bribe me with to look the other way.” He gave her a gentle shake. “You can believe me on that, sweetheart. And you need to believe me when I say you have to put your trust in me.” Because I’m your last chance at survival.

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Chapter Thirteen Randie didn’t know how hungry she was until the waitress brought her an enormous plate of true down-home country cooking. She let herself eat the mountain of eggs, bacon, fried potato patties, and English muffins coated with butter and strawberry jam guilt free, knowing she couldn’t be sure when she would eat next. She still didn’t know what Aidan had planned or where they were going. Her head ached when she tried to think her way out of this mess. “Didn’t you ever have any friends?” His question gave her pause. “Sure I did. Especially when I was little. But my father never let me get too close to anyone. My best friend was Dr. Hastings’s daughter.” Randie swallowed a lump in her throat. “She died of leukemia when we were both fourteen. I’d loved her like a sister, so I didn’t care much about making new friends after that.” She finished her meal in silence, unwilling to think too hard on what was going to happen next. It felt good to let her mind gel for a few minutes. She lingered over a second cup of tea while Aidan put out cash for their tab. She knew a guy with expensive clothes and a fancy car like his would have plenty of credit but was using cash to avoid being traced. Though she knew enough to do the same, she understood she’d botched her escape and figured she could learn a thing or two from him. Until she found her opportunity to give him the slip, she would pay close attention to Aidan Chase. His phone buzzed. He looked at the display and, obviously recognizing the person on the other end, answered with familiarity. “Are you sure?” He paused but didn’t look up. “That doesn’t make any sense. He’s got no motive. No, keep it under wraps. I’ll be back in a few days, and I’ll check it out myself.”

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Now Aidan did lift his gaze to hers. “It’s gotten complicated,” he said to the person on the other end. “But when doesn’t it? I’m headed back now, taking the scenic route. Yes, check that out. I’ll call you back later today.” He snapped the phone shut. “Office business,” he clarified. “But on the subject of this case, your father will be expecting an update from me by tomorrow.” He slid to the edge of the booth. Randie followed him. She waited until they were through the diner doors to speak. “What are you going to tell him?” Aidan stiffened and stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Hold it.” He scanned the far hotel wing. Their room was on the backside. His sense of smell must be amazing. “The other…” She stopped herself from saying “wolf” even though there was nobody else within earshot. “No. I picked up another scent in Silver Creek.” He looked at her with an expression so dark she shivered. “I wasn’t sure, but now I am. Someone else is following us.”

Aidan saw the maid stop her cart in front of their hotel room door and fish through a ring of keys. He grabbed Randie by the wrist and dragged her into a run. He’d intended to lock her in the backseat of the BMW with his GLOCK where she’d be protected and hidden behind tinted windows, but now he didn’t have time. He shouted a warning to the maid and leaped onto the steps leading to the second floor, but it was too late. The woman swung the door open and turned back to the cart to lift a carryall of cleaning supplies from the bottom. “Señora, sin limpiar ahora, por favor.” She turned to him, confused. “You don’t want clean now, sir?” “Más tarde. Gracias.” She smiled and nodded and pulled her cart down the narrow walkway. The scent was overpowering, but the room was empty. He turned back to find Randie lingering in the doorway. He pulled her inside and shut the door. “We have to leave now.”

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“Who is it, Aidan?” She rubbed her arms, visibly shaken. “Who was here?” “Get my bag.” He powered up his laptop and checked the security. No one had logged on, or tried to, since last night. Randie waited for an answer, then sighed and grabbed his duffel. She stuffed the T-shirt she’d slept in inside, then went to the bathroom for their toiletries. “Fine. Don’t tell me. It’s only my life at stake.” She jammed their toothbrushes into the bag and zipped it shut with a ferocious whir. “They’re known as the Dark Ones, the clan with no name. They’re a rogue band of werewolves who run together because no one else will have them. They’re criminals, fugitives, outcasts from legitimate clans.” He powered off his computer and shoved a hand through his hair. “I scented them in Silver Creek, but it was faint, and I hadn’t met up with one in years. I didn’t recognize the scent.” “Is that what the other guy is?” She meant Faulkner. He considered it. “No. I would have smelled them on him. Technically Faulkner isn’t a fugitive. He was never charged with murder. As hesitant as I am to say anything good about him, even he wouldn’t slink over to the Dark Ones.” “Why is this happening? What does any of it have to do with me?” She threw her hands in the air with frustration. He knew he’d have to explain, but she would have to be content to get her explanation in the car. He collected his laptop and duffel in one hand and grabbed her with the other. “Let’s go.” The scent of the Dark Ones lingered outside the BMW but not inside. The fact he didn’t detect any trace scents of explosives didn’t exactly reassure him. He started the engine and shot out onto the highway, grateful for the X5’s all-wheel drive. The morning sky had darkened with thunderclouds that matched his roiling mood. Already tiny bits of snow glittered in the air. If luck was against them, they’d be stopped at Beartooth Pass. He’d been planning to take the lower 90, but now he rethought his plan. Continuing south sounded like a better idea to throw off his pursuers and marginally increased the likelihood of passable road conditions. Continuing east only increased the risks of encountering roadblocks at

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any of a number of mountain passes closed due to inclement weather, and he didn’t like the idea of being sitting ducks with a pack of hungry wolves on their trail. “What kind of documents do you have on you? Driver’s license?” “Yes,” she acknowledged in a cautious tone. “My Madeline Forsythe ID. I never had any made up as Randie.” He looked at her, and she shrugged. “I didn’t know how to get fakes.” “If we can make it to Denver, I think we should hop a plane. It’s a long drive to the East Coast, through a lot of remote territory.” “I thought you said we weren’t going back to New Hampshire.” Randie’s voice held a note of offense. She didn’t trust him. “We’re not. I’m taking you to New York where I have a flat no one knows about.” “Man of mystery,” she muttered. “The call I received earlier was from my assistant, Jillian. There’s a problem in my office. In a nutshell, I’ve got a traitor, and it’s a problem because everyone on my team is a member of my pack.” “How do you know?” “Leaks, discrepancies, a trickle of embezzled funds.” He kept his eyes on the road. “And now this.” “So you think someone from your office told them about this case? Or at least told them where to find you?” “No one outside my agency should have known I was in Silver Creek or why. Somehow, Faulkner knows.” “Then he’s your worm.” “Faulkner is not in my pack.” Not anymore, anyway. And Faulkner had no motivation to be hunting him. He knew Aidan wanted his hide, and a smart man would have headed the opposite direction after learning where Aidan was.

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“Then these Dark Ones are your infiltrators, and maybe that’s where he learned it. Maybe he’s after them, not you.” He ground his teeth. That was a stronger possibility but still didn’t make sense. “I’ll figure it out once I get to my office and I know you’re somewhere safe.” “God.” She leaned her head back against the seat. “I don’t want to go to New York. Why couldn’t you have just left me in Silver Creek? I was fine until you came along.” “Fine, huh?” he returned in the same snappy voice. “How do you think I found you in Washington? Your father pointed me there. You’d made calls to the house to speak with Ellen.” “Eleanor.” She pushed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “Dammit.” “He gave me the unique IP of your computer. You must have used it at Dolly’s because it led me right to you.” Now she gave a pained laugh that sounded more like she was going to cry. “And last night? I met up with No-neck, the cigarette-smoking goon from your father’s house. He’d checked into the Wrangler’s Inn.” She sat up and gaped at him. “Did he see me?” “I don’t think so, but I can’t be sure. Look, Randie, I don’t mean to yell at you, but you have to understand how serious this is. We have a shitload of trouble on our tail.” She gave him a wry look before sagging back against the seat. “Welcome to my life.”

*** She’d been awake for an hour, staring at the starry sky through the windshield, letting the lulling rock of the car on the lonely highway soothe away the ache brought on by knowing she had to say the words. She powered the seat upright and angled toward him. “You have to let me go, Aidan.” They’d driven straight through to Billings and turned south on Highway 25 toward Denver when the weather report promised more snow. It was already coming down, and what should have taken eight hours had taken twelve. At eleven thirty it was darker than death on the desolate road, and the small town they drove into appeared to have rolled up its sidewalks hours ago. “You’re safer with me,” he insisted. He bit out the words through a steel jaw.

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The highway slowed at flashing yellow lights marking the start of the reduced speed limit through town. The sky had cleared, and unmarred snow smoothed the landscape, illuminated surreally by a not-quite-full moon sitting high overhead. “I care about you so much.” Her throat took on instant soreness. She watched a muscle tick in his cheek. “For the past few days I’ve even fantasized about being a normal girl and letting myself fall in love with you. Having a normal future together.” “Randie.” She laid a hand on his arm. “I realize now there is no letting myself or not letting myself. I fell in love with you despite all the reasons I shouldn’t. You’re a special man, Aidan, in so many ways. You were good to me like nobody has ever been.” He glanced at her, and in that split second, she understood he felt the same way. The pain in his eyes betrayed his feelings. “But I can’t be that normal girl. I will never be normal. Even if I escape my father, I can’t escape my illness.” They drove slowly through the sleeping town. It felt like they were the last two people on earth. A snowplow had been through much earlier, and several inches of new snow now coated the road. Aidan reached over and took her hand. She twined her fingers with his. “You can be that normal girl. Don’t you see? I can give it to you. All of it.” “No, you can’t. Nobody can.” She sighed. “I wish you could just bite me and turn me into a werewolf.” He rolled the car to a stop at an intersection with its lights flashing red. “What if I told you I could?” Aidan looked at her as he eased the car into the darkened intersection. There wasn’t enough time to call out a warning, not even enough time to scream. The truck loomed out of nowhere in a split second of surreal silence. The impact pulled her out of her seat, held in place only by her seatbelt. The noise was catastrophic—breaking glass, the boom of thousands of pounds of car smashing together, the shriek of twisting metal. Air bags exploded around her with stunning force. Cold air rushed in

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and tore through her clothes like reaping fingers. Above it all, the feeling most vivid was Aidan’s hand wrenching away from hers. She blinked to clear her eyes but couldn’t focus; then she realized the dizzying sensation was the car spinning a full one hundred eighty degrees. The unfamiliar street, still moving, was skewed by the spiderweb of shattered safety glass. The BMW slid up against the snowbank on the opposite corner of the street and rocked twice before falling still like a great lumbering beast succumbing to death. A handful of snow fell off the overhang of the building and spilled in through her shattered window. “Aidan.” She reached for him, but her damn seat belt was locked. He was slumped forward against the steering wheel, its deflating air bag already having lost most of its pressure. Blood trickled from his head. The windshield had shattered but held. His window, like hers, had not. The sudden cold was crippling. She thumbed the release to her seat belt and felt instant relief as it slid away. “Aidan.” She reached to touch him, then was afraid to. “Oh no. Oh God.” Headlights flashed, and an engine roared. Footsteps crunched through the snow. “Help!” None of this felt real. It seemed like a bad dream she couldn’t wake herself from. She understood the people outside the car were a threat, and wasn’t calling to them but to someone else—anyone else—for help from them. Her door wrenched open, caught on the snow, and then was yanked wide. She screamed. “Help!” “Quiet her,” someone shouted from the other side. She twisted to face her attacker. He grinned a mouthful of crooked teeth. “’Allo, love.” The man was a hulk of a brute with a growth of two days’ beard and messy, greasy hair. He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the BMW. Randie screamed again and managed to get out one last throaty “Help!” that echoed through the silent town. She kicked out at the man holding her but missed his family jewels. He didn’t seem to notice the impact to his thigh, except to be amused. He laughed, showing those horrible teeth again.

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A sharp prick in her neck gave way to hot, searing pain. She sagged backward, seeing the glowing windows of an upper-level apartment before her vision twisted into a gray smear. Her body went heavy and weak. Unsympathetic hands lifted her and threw her on something hard and cold. Two doors slammed shut, and then the silence was absolute.

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Chapter Fourteen Randie’s first conscious awareness was of lying in the back of a van in motion. She felt every bump and crack in the road jarring the length of her prone body. Lights surged and passed over her—streetlights they drove beneath, probably. She was vividly aware of the van yet strangely detached from her body. She wanted to move, to sit up, but was too numb to control her limbs. “The princess is awake,” a female said. Someone leaned over Randie. She inhaled the stench of ripe BO, and heard clothing rustle. A hand slapped her cheek. She came alive with fury, as though her brain had finally clicked into place with her nerves. Her fist cracked against a mouth, and a male voice bit out a curse. “Bitch!” Randie thrashed for all she was worth. She was in the back of a plain white cargo van with three others: a girl about her age and two men. One of them was the big guy with the bad teeth. The girl across from her started forward as if to restrain her. Randie kicked, landing a foot in the center of her chest. The girl’s rage flared, and she launched forward again, but Randie fought with all the fear, anger, and misery she possessed. Legs pinwheeling, she caught the girl with two more kicks, bloodying her lip. “That’s enough.” The younger guy leaned over and punched Randie in the cheekbone, rattling her teeth. “Calm yourself.” “Fuck you.” She didn’t know she had it in herself to be so vicious. These were the Dark Ones; she knew just by Aidan’s description. No wonder he’d scented something odd. The BO wasn’t limited to just one. But what did the Dark Ones want with her? Were they using her to get to Aidan, or had her father’s age-old doomsaying of kidnapping for ransom finally come true?

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“Put that away,” the man ordered. The girl had pulled out a pocket knife. She sat back on the bare rubber mat lining the floor, glaring at Randie. Randie glared right back. “What do you want?” She slid her gaze to the younger man. He smiled sarcastically. “Why, just to return you to your poor, worried father is all.” “And collect a nice, fat reward for it,” the girl cut in wickedly. “Where’s Aidan?” He shrugged. “Maybe dead, maybe alive. That depends on you.” The girl snickered. “You behave yourself, and we have no reason to hurt him. Get naughty, and he gets punished. See the rules here?” The driver swerved into a parking spot and shifted the car into park. “We’re here.” How long had she been unconscious? They couldn’t be in New Hampshire already! “Go get the tickets,” the driver said. The younger man opened a back door and jumped out. Randie glimpsed a parking lot filled with cars, some of them covered with mounds of snow as if they’d been there for days. Snowflakes drifted lazily in pools of yellow light from evenly spaced lampposts. In the distance a train horn sounded. The door slammed shut. The driver swiveled around in the seat and grinned at her. He had long black hair, gaunt cheeks, and empty eyes. He looked like a drug addict. “Hello, Madeline. I’m Thayer Brice. I’ll be your guide on a three-day, fun-filled train ride to New Hampshire.”

*** Cold gave way to soft comfort, silence to rapid voices and the squawk of a radio. Stinging pain accompanied the astringent smell of antiseptic blotting his forehead. A light shone in his eyes. “Can you hear me?” a strange voice echoed eerily in his head. He thought he responded “yes,” then couldn’t remember if he said it out loud. A few moments of darkness and he was awakened again by the rough ride in the back of an ambulance, insistent hands prodding. A needle in his arm, spreading something cold into his veins.

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“No.” He hated drugs, and his wolf couldn’t tolerate them. If they drugged him, he couldn’t shift to accelerate his healing. “Easy. It’s okay.” “Randie.” “Stay with me, fella. Almost there.” “Almost where?” “You’re a lucky man. One tenth of a second more and that truck would’ve hit you square in the door instead of your front quarter panel.” It was a woman speaking to him, he could scent that much, but her voice was low and masculine. “What’s your name?” She was a strong-looking woman with a plain face. She stared at him over his own driver’s license; he recognized it by the scratch on the back. “Aidan Chase.” “Do you have any allergies, Mr. Chase?” “No drugs. Ex-addict,” he lied as a simpler explanation. Her voice faded as too-bright light stung his eyes. He was moving again, but no longer in the ambulance. Rolling down a brightly lit hall on a hospital gurney. “Mr. Chase. Mr. Chase!” “Where am I?” A man was shining another penlight in his eyes. “This is Pacific Communities Hospital in Fort Collins, Colorado. I’m Dr. Roydon, your attending physician. Do you remember how you got here, Mr. Chase?” “I drove.” The doctor smiled. “Very good. I think you’re going to be fine, but you had us worried for a while. You’ve been unconscious for almost four hours.” Aidan jerked. “No.” He tried to sit up. Searing pain in his arm made his stomach roll.

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“Easy now, Mr. Chase. You have a fractured humerus of the left arm. I’ve stitched up a few lacerations from the broken glass, and now that you’re awake I’m going to order a CT scan just to be safe. You took a nasty bump to the head.” “Where’s Randie?” Aidan took a deep breath. The cobwebs slid away, and the sounds around him lost their eerie echo. He struggled to sit up, and everything went woozy again. “You were brought in alone, Mr. Chase.” “No.” He grabbed the doctor’s arm, making the man’s eyes go wide. “I was with a woman, twenty-one years old. Her name is Randie—Madeline.” The doctor tried to pry his fingers loose. “According to the EMTs, you were alone in the car at the time of the accident.” “Listen to me. That was no accident. They kidnapped my fiancé. I need you to call your sheriff or your police chief or whatever you have in this town. Now!” The doctor stepped back. “Very well.” He gave a nod and handed Aidan’s chart to a nurse. “Call Chief Byerly and order a CT scan for Mr. Chase.” Left alone, Aidan settled back on the bed and gritted his teeth, willing away the spinning sensation. He couldn’t stay here while Randie was out there with the Dark Ones. He scented Faulkner an instant before the curtain around his bed jerked back. “Shift.” His duffel bag smacked Aidan in the knees. “Now.” Aidan shoved upright, ignoring the pain in his arm, and grabbed Faulkner by the lapels. “So help me, if you’re behind this, I’ll rip your head off and shit down your neck.” He would have liked to do it right then and there, but the world spun, and it was all he could do to hide it from Faulkner. In front of another wolf, showing weakness was a dangerous thing. “You are the most pigheaded wolf I’ve ever met. The truth has literally jumped up and slapped you in the face, and you still want to blame me.” Faulkner pulled free and smoothed the soft leather of his jacket. “Honestly, brother, I don’t remember you being this dumb when we were kids. Did your arrogance turn you blind when you became Alpha?”

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Aidan sat up and shoved out of the bed, shifting through a haze of pain as he lunged at Faulkner. Faulkner’s foot caught the leg of the visitor’s chair, and he went down, pinned to the floor by Aidan’s immense paws on his chest. Aidan leaned into his face and growled. He twisted his head and shook, freeing himself from the hospital smock. Next he thrashed his foreleg, tossing the splint free. A woman’s scream stabbed his eardrums, followed by the crash of a metal tray. Faulkner grinned. “It’s okay. My dog’s house-trained.” “Dr. Roydon!” Aidan stepped off, and Faulkner waved a hand in front of his nose as he sat up. “I thought you didn’t like onions. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.” He trotted beside Faulkner, knowing he had no other choice. His brother had wheels, and Aidan needed them. Despite the nearly empty halls at this late hour, they passed plenty of staff who all jumped back with cries of terror, staring at him as though he were from another planet. “What? He’s my therapy dog,” Faulkner said to one nurse. “He’s a service canine,” he said to another, even though no one would ever believe Aidan, looking rough and wild in his wolf form and reaching nearly as tall as Faulkner’s hip, was actually a dog. Outside, the crisp air and snow beneath his paws were nearly as therapeutic as the shift itself. Faulkner remotely unlocked the doors of a black Expedition and opened the rear passenger door for Aidan. He leaped inside, and Faulkner threw his duffel in after him. Aidan shifted back and dug into his bag for clean clothes as Faulkner slid into the driver’s seat. He started the SUV and pulled onto the highway headed south. “They went to the train station in Denver—” Aidan pushed the muzzle of his semiautomatic against Faulkner’s throat. “Easy, brother. One accident per night should be enough for you.” “Give me one good reason why I should trust you.” “I think I just did.” Aidan settled back in the seat. “Where’s the clip?”

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“There’s the brother I know and love. I’m glad to see you haven’t lost the ability to tell the difference between an empty gun and a fully loaded one.” Aidan climbed over the center console and slid into the front seat. “Cut the bullshit and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

*** Randie remembered thinking she could get away as soon as they took her out of the truck, but the minute she was hoisted to her feet, the effects of whatever drug they’d given her made her dizzy all over again. Thayer held her around the waist, keeping her upright by the belt loop on her jeans while the other hand squeezed her upper arm, fingers digging in painfully. He steered her through the crowd waiting on the snowy platform as the incoming train came to a slow stop. Steam brakes spit up clouds of white, and the passenger doors flipped open. A conductor took the tickets from the fat man with the bad teeth. “To your left and two cars down. Cabin’s on your right. Gonna be a tight fit for five people.” He smiled politely, but the conductor’s eyes held a measure of suspicion as they passed over each of them. “We’ll make it cozy,” Thayer said. He squeezed Randie close like an adoring boyfriend. “Half the fun’s getting there, right?” He dragged her up the train’s steep steps and down the narrow aisle. They’d booked a family car. It was tight, with only four seats. Two unfolded to form the lower bunk, and a top bunk was currently folded up to provide headroom over those seats. “Look there, princess. A private john.” He shoved her inside the cabin. “Josh, fold down that top bunk for Her Highness. I imagine she’ll start feeling shitty fairly soon.” She crumpled into the seat by the window. The younger one, John—no, Josh—pulled the top bed down. “What did you drug me with?” Thayer grinned. “A little cocktail I like to call Obedience. Be a good girl and you don’t have to have any more.”

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The fat man crowded in behind the girl and closed the door. The cabin suddenly felt like a tiny mausoleum. “I want to talk to Aidan.” “Did you hear that, Lucy? She wants to talk to Aidan.” Thayer used a mocking voice, then it went rough. “You can call him when you’re home safe and sound with your daddy. While you’re with us, we make the rules, and the rules are no phone calls.” Randie blinked through the fog left by the drug. She shuddered as she imagined what might have been in it. Then it occurred to her: these people probably didn’t know why her father hired Aidan to find her. “How much do you think you’re going to get?” Lucy plopped into the seat across from her. “Don’t worry about that, sweet thing. Daddy will still have enough left over to buy you a pony.” Randie had guessed it right. They were ransoming her, and they didn’t know of her father’s plans to kill her. She wondered if they’d already made contact and named their amount. “I’m curious. How’d you get into Aidan’s network? None of you look particularly intelligent enough to pull it off on your own.” The expressions on each face proved her insult had cut. Her daring made her stomach leap with nervous tension, but whatever was in that drug had robbed her of her common sense. “Was it Faulkner?” “How do you know about Faulkner?” the fat man asked. “She doesn’t know shit,” Thayer barked. His voice sounded more like a growl, but it was aimed at Bad Teeth. “Aidan must have told her about his brother.” She glanced out the window as her heart leaped. Faulkner is Aidan’s brother! But why hadn’t he told her? “He’s the one hacking Aidan’s system, isn’t he?” Josh snorted. “Faulkner is the last person who would pass us information.” Lucy slid to the end of her seat and leaned close, her eyes narrowing menacingly. “Yeah, Faulkner likes us especially well.”

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Their odd statements about Faulkner only confused Randie more. Was Faulkner truly an enemy to Aidan or just an estranged family member? And what did that make him to her? Thayer shoved Lucy back into her seat. “Back off. She’s our paycheck. And shut your mouth,” he added almost as an afterthought. He turned his glare on Randie. “This is about you and your rich daddy. Aidan Chase is just someone I like fucking with. I’ve enjoyed making him miserable all these years, but the time has come to get paid. If he tries to take you back, I’ll kill him.” “Why? What have you got against Aidan?” Her voice shook over the thundering of her heart, but if these people were truly wolves, they could probably sense her terror anyhow. Her pulse was racing, and sweat prickled her skin. Wasn’t it true dogs could smell fear? She bet wolves weren’t much different. Thayer took the seat next to Lucy. “The Chases and me, we go way back. Faulkner’s an irritation, but Aidan is the one who owes me his liver.” “Pack rivalry?” “You know all about his special qualities, don’t you, love?” Thayer gave her a wicked smile. “Wait till you see ours.”

*** “Pack up your gun.” Faulkner thumbed toward the backseat. “You don’t want to mess with checking it. We’ll be cutting the flight close as it is.” “Just leave me at passenger drop-off.” Aidan watched the exit for airlines come and go. “Hell no. I’m too close to part ways now. Like it or not, we’re in this together.” Faulkner angled the Expedition into the Hertz lot at Denver International and parked along the far side, out of sight of the building’s windows. He jumped out and opened the tailgate for his bag. “Use this. You can ship it home. There’s a UPS drop near the airline counters.” He tossed the cardboard box at Aidan. “That isn’t legal.”

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“Ship it or throw it in the garbage; take your pick. If I know you, it’s registered, and you’ll get in a lot more trouble if somebody finds it.” Faulkner grabbed Aidan’s pistol, wrapped it in the old sheet of bubble wrap that had been stuffed inside, and tore off two long pieces of tape from his packing roll. He stuffed the gun and the roll of tape into the box and then sealed it shut with the two pieces of tape. He shoved the box at Aidan. “Let’s go.” “You still haven’t explained what’s going on.” Aidan jogged to keep up with him. “Aren’t you going to turn in your car?” “I rented it in Spokane using a stolen credit card.” “Jesus, Faulkner.” They bypassed the office and jumped directly onto the shuttle headed to the airlines. “Don’t get sanctimonious with me. You were never in my position, so don’t tell me how you’d react.” “You put yourself in that position.” Faulkner leaned close and bared his teeth. “I didn’t kill Isabella.” A woman at the front of the shuttle glanced up from her book. “The sooner you accept that, the better off we’re both going to be. Now if you want to save your little waitress, take your head out of your ass and start working with me, not against me.” Faulkner didn’t speak to him again until they were at the United counter buying two business-class seats to Boston. “Put that credit card away. You’re not secure,” he said when the agent was out of earshot. “Where’d you get this one?” Though he glimpsed Faulkner’s name imprinted on the card, he still had his doubts about its authenticity. “My benefactor,” Faulkner answered simply, then flashed his charming smile at the ticket agent. The terminal was busy, but Faulkner took a seat across from their gate in a less crowded area. “Benefactor?” Aidan sat next to him. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with embezzled funds leaking out of my office, would it?”

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Faulkner gave him a sly look. “Problems in the den, Aidan?” “Start explaining, brother. You have thirty minutes until the plane starts boarding, and if I don’t like your story, I’m reporting you to airline security.” “For what?” Aidan gave him a smug half smile. “I’ll think of something.”

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Chapter Fifteen “I’ve been following the Dark Ones for two years, ever since my benefactor found me and proposed a mutual arrangement.” “You keep using that word. Benefactor.” If he weren’t trapped here with Faulkner, waiting for a plane, he’d have walked away by now. “Let’s just say she and I have a mutual interest in seeing the Dark Ones punished.” “Human or wolf?” Aidan asked simply. “Wolf. She’s out of New York. Fifth Avenue, and that’s all I’m going to say.” He knew of only one pack in New York’s Upper East Side, and it was hemorrhaging money. “Fine. Go on.” With the proper investigation, he could find out if Faulkner’s claims were true. “Isabella’s death and your lunatic rantings that I killed her were front-page news in our community. I laid low for the first year.” Faulkner sighed, watching a jumbo jet ferried away from its causeway by a push car. “Lower than I want to admit. It took a while for her to find me and a while longer to convince me to join up. We both had our suspicions, and we both had our reasons, but neither of us really cared about the other’s. It came down to mutual goals, and the fact that she’s loaded and I was scraping the gutter. Thanks to you.” “What I’m hearing here is ‘oh woe is me.’ You forget an innocent woman lost her life—” “I don’t forget at all!” Faulkner snapped a little too loudly. Then softly, “I never forget.” A few moments passed while Faulkner reclaimed his calm. Aidan was loath to admit it, but he actually felt sorry for the pain in the ass.

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“Whatever you think of me, I loved her too. So cut the self-righteous act. You still have your life. I lost everything I had in mine. And as selfish as you think it is for me to say that, take it from me, there are some things worse than death.” Now it was Aidan’s turn to struggle for his calm. He glanced at his watch. Every minute away from Randie caused his tension to grow, and he had to remind himself that even though he was sitting here going insane with waiting, he would get to New Hampshire faster on a plane. “I’ve been following them for two years, waiting for some evidence to turn up that proved it was them who killed Isabella. And if I couldn’t get that, something else to take to the council.” As Faulkner talked, Aidan took in his expensive boots, leather jacket, and new jeans. Someone was footing the bill. He doubted Faulkner did everything on stolen credit cards. Maybe this mysterious benefactor story was true. “Two years you’ve been following them, and you didn’t find anything solid enough to go to the council?” He eyed his brother. “You weren’t looking very hard.” “I got as close as I could,” Faulkner snapped. “You’re not in a position to lecture me if you’re not seeing what’s going on right in front of your eyes.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Faulkner gave him a snide look. “I’ll tell you this; you ought to take a close look at Ryan. He and Thayer Brice met at a Starbucks Coffee shop in Manhattan twice. Once in August and once in October.” Ryan. This was the second time that name had come up. The first time from Jillian. When they’d spoken on the phone while he was having breakfast at the diner with Randie, Jillian revealed she’d found one of the hackers’ footprints in their system that had occurred during the week Ryan’s laptop was missing, having been stolen and then suspiciously recovered. Faulkner cut through his thoughts. “This is more than a case to you. You care about that girl.” Aidan’s only reply was a strained grumble over a clenched jaw. The United agent called preboarding for their flight. “I could tell when I saw you two in the alley the night that drunk tried to cop a feel. That’s why I prodded you about it.”

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“You still know how to push my buttons,” Aidan muttered. “I was owed,” Faulkner snapped. Then he sighed. “I don’t blame you. Enough years pass while you’re alone, and you’d give anything for a little domestic boredom.” Randie was anything but boring. She was the light in his soul, the fire in his heart. Faulkner leaned forward and grabbed the strap of his bag. “If I were you, brother, I’d do whatever it takes to get her back safely, and I’d kill whoever stood in my way.”

*** The first day, huddled on the top bunk under a flimsy blanket, Randie fantasized about Aidan coming to her rescue, kicking down the cabin’s door, whupping ass on these lowlife cave dwellers, and carrying her off to safety. She slid in and out of nightmares, an amalgamation of all she’d seen and experienced. Of wolves running rampant and vicious, chasing her through the snowy woods in Washington, but somehow herding her onto the sprawling grounds of the mansion in New Hampshire. She clung to her memories of Aidan like a life preserver. Even if she was to meet her end, she would hold tight to the precious moments she’d shared with him, loving him and being loved by him with passion so potent it had changed her life. The train sat idle in Chicago. Even though the car still vibrated with the hum of the engine, the stillness was a profound relief. She cried her tears silently, letting the sobs ease out of her lungs on deep breaths so not to give satisfaction to her captors. Aidan, I miss you. She couldn’t mark the passage of time. Sometime during the layover the fat man came back, stinking of booze, and tossed a plastic-wrapped sandwich at her. She ignored it even though she was ravenous. He’d probably slipped drugs into it. “Eat up, princess, or I will.” She didn’t know if he meant eat the sandwich or eat her, so she rolled over and grabbed it. Hunger won out over suspicion. It was nothing more than a slab of ham glued between two slices of rye with too much mayonnaise, but it was delicious.

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He offered her a bottle of water. When she hesitated, he shook it in front of her. “It’s sealed. God, you are paranoid.” She took it and guzzled it down. Thayer had been telling the truth; whatever he’d given her had left her with a miserable hangover. “See? I’m not such a bad guy.” Lucy looked up from her magazine, bored. “Where’s mine?” “Go git your own.” He plunked down next to her and leaned on her. “What’cha readin’?” “Ugh.” She stood and dropped the magazine on her seat. “I’ll be in the dining car.” That left her with Bad Teeth and Josh. Thayer must have left while she was dozing. Josh looked up and found her staring. “What?” “Aidan’s going to kill you.” “Aidan isn’t going to do shit,” he spat back at her. “He’ll be lucky if he isn’t dead. We Tboned him straight on.” She doused a momentary flash of dread. “He’s stronger than you think. And my leaving home—it’s not just because Daddy and I had a spat. There’s more going on here than you know.” She eyed him narrowly. “Aidan won’t just stand by and let you do this. He’s going to kill you.” “Shut up.” He glared at the fat man. “Call Ryan. Find out where lover boy’s at.” “Thayer said—” “Fuck what Thayer said. He’s in charge of the drop, that’s all. Faulkner Chase has been dogging me too long. If there’s a chance his brother is alive, I want to know where he is.” He swiped a hand over his greasy face. “Last thing I need is two of them on my tail. We’re paying this asshole a lot of money for intel, so get on the goddamn phone and get me some.”

*** Unlike Washington, Massachusetts had not been coated in an early snow. Instead rain drizzled off and on, and thick gray cloud cover obscured the day. Stiff and achy, Randie had finally climbed out of the upper bunk of the cramped train car to sit in the window seat. Her captors didn’t speak much on the second day of their trip. By the sour scent of alcohol choking

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the small cabin, she suspected both the fat man and Lucy were hungover. The overall atmosphere was tense. These were bungling criminals, not experienced kidnappers, and she suspected they were as nervous about meeting up with her father as she was. They departed the train in Boston where a fifth man picked them up in a full-size passenger van. She looked around as they escorted her from the terminal to the parking lot but saw no sign of Aidan. Worse, she didn’t feel him nearby, poised to pounce on her attackers. Misery sank deep into her bones, and Randie felt so awful from hunger and the ache of a three-day train ride it was hard to hold on to the few shards of hope she had left. She didn’t believe he would have just left her to these cretins. He must have been so badly injured in the crash he couldn’t come. She hugged her arms around herself to keep from trembling. Tears stung her eyes, and the cold robbed her of her last ounce of energy. Thayer took out a cheap cell phone—a disposable, Randie guessed—and dialed. “It’s me.” He smiled, seemingly pleased with whatever the person on the other end said. “You’re sure? Good, no, make sure they go all the way to the drop, and call me when they get there. We should be in place on time.” He snapped the phone shut. “Your father’s a smart man. He’s following our instructions. When he gets to the drop point, he’ll receive a video transmission of you, safe and sound in your own house. He’ll have three minutes to make the transfer, or you’re dead.” Randie spared him a disdainful glance, then turned her attention back out the van’s window. Aidan, where are you? If only she knew he was going to be all right, she could face her own fate with more courage. Thayer made a second call. “You have my money? Good. No, you’ll just have to take my word for it.” After a moment’s pause, he glared at her. “Daddy wants to hear you’re still alive.” He held the phone out. She didn’t take it or speak. Thayer fisted her hair and yanked her head back. Randie gasped but gritted her teeth. He then took out a knife and held it against her cheek. “I can cut you so no plastic surgeon can ever fix the mess.” She returned his glare as she took the phone. “Madeline.”

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“Oh, Maddie, thank heaven. I was so worried.” “I’ll bet.” She threw the phone on the floor. Thayer laughed. Josh handed it back to him. “You have thirty minutes to get to the exchange. Five minutes late, we cut off an ear, and not only does the price double, but you get to wait another day to reunite with daughter dearest.” He snapped the phone shut and grinned at her. “You better hope Daddy’s punctual.”

*** Aidan was operating on the hunch that the Dark Ones would return Randie to her father’s estate, or at least after making the exchange, he would bring her home himself. She’d said there was a surgical room set up in the house. That would be the only place such a heinous crime could happen. At the back of his mind, Aidan knew it wouldn’t be hard for Forsythe to throw his car sideways in front of a truck and take his poor injured daughter to a hospital where her death would not be in vain, because her desperately needed heart would save his life. He knew the sick old man was diabolical enough to carry out just such a wicked plan. Giving more credence to Faulkner’s mysterious tale and unknown benefactor, a silent man who looked like a retired boxer met them at the airport and handed off a minivan with tinted windows. The glove compartment held a Smith & Wesson 9 millimeter semiautomatic snugged into a leather shoulder holster. Aidan gave his brother a dark look, but Faulkner merely checked the clip and returned it to the glove compartment. He was certain the Dark Ones had contacted Forsythe and arranged some sort of ransom exchange. Aidan was over a day late with his update, but the old man hadn’t called him. That could only mean the Dark Ones had, and Forsythe believed he was out of the picture. Maybe the Dark Ones even told him they’d killed me. Aidan hoped they had. That would work to his advantage. Overnight and into the next morning, they watched from the driveway of an empty house up for sale that overlooked Forsythe’s mansion and his massive six-car garage. It was nearly two in the afternoon before the limousine pulled out and drove down the long, wooded lane. It turned north, away from the picturesque town.

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Faulkner started the van and went after them. At the end of the driveway, they stopped to let another vehicle pass. It was a banged up old cargo van with a peeling logo for a carpet and drapery cleaner. The phone number had been scratched off. It slowed and turned into the Forsythe driveway. “Hello,” Aidan said with exaggerated curiosity. “What do we have here?” “That’s Thayer Brice behind the wheel,” Faulkner said. “Any idea who the fat one next to him is?” His brother shook his head. “What do you want to do? Follow the limo or check out the house?” “They’re up to something,” Aidan said under his breath. “I’d be more surprised if they weren’t.” In silent agreement, Faulkner turned the opposite way the limo had gone and headed to the fire road dividing the Forsythe property from its neighbor. The impressive Forsythe mansion sat on sixteen acres of heavily wooded terrain bisected by a considerable creek. Faulkner released the door handle and turned to get out. Aidan caught his wrist. “If you’re conning me, I will fucking kill you.” “Down, boy. I’ve got more to lose here than you.” Aidan squeezed tighter. “No. You don’t.” Faulkner gave a single nod, conveying he understood Aidan would kill anyone who kept him from Randie, even him. He slipped out of the driver’s side and immediately started disrobing. He wound his clothes and the shoulder holster into a miniature duffel with a single strap. “Shift. You can’t keep up on two legs, and you’ll waste energy if you try.” He pitched forward to all fours and was in wolf form by the time his hands hit. He snatched up the miniduffel in his jaws and raced into the woods. Aidan grumbled as he twisted his clothes into a knot around his shoes. He shifted and started after Faulkner, doing his best to follow while holding the mass in his mouth.

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The running invigorated him, and his blood sang for revenge. Randie was the most important thing in his life. He understood that from the emptiness of missing her. There was a hole yawing open inside him, a darkness lingering after Isabella’s death that would split open and consume him if he lost Randie. She was in the hands of the very people Faulkner believed responsible for Isabella’s death. The possibility was too frightening to fathom. He understood there was more at stake here than just rescuing her and getting her out of the clutches of her insane father. He had a chance to put past and present to rights again, and he wouldn’t let himself be too late this time.

*** The Dark Ones drove boldly up the driveway and parked in front of the grand double doors. They forced her from the minivan with dirty looks and arrogant leers. “How much did you ask for?” Randie asked, truly curious. She wondered what her father would pay to get her back and where he’d draw the line. “Wouldn’t you like to know!” Lucy cackled. “Five million,” Thayer responded coldly. “So you better believe we mean business.” She shivered. She had no doubt they did. As she looked up at the dark house, she realized her chill came from coming back here, to the source of her nightmares. Even as a child, she’d gotten a creepy vibe from the house and believed it haunted. She opened the front door and stepped inside the immense entry. “That’s it?” the fat man said with awe. “Not even locked? Man, you rich people think you’re untouchable.” He whistled when he stepped inside and took in the marble floor, vaulted ceiling, and sweeping, curved staircase. “Shut up,” Thayer snapped. He glared at Randie. “This is excess, and it makes you look like a fool. Nobody needs all this to be happy. What a colossal waste.” “Who said we’re happy?” She didn’t meet his gaze, but from the corner of her eye she saw him pinch his lips in a hard line.

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The fat man was still gawking like a tourist. “Me, I just want enough to keep a nice little house so I always have a place to lay my head and enough food so I never go hungry.” Lucy snorted. “With your gut, a cool mil and you might still go hungry.” “Both of you, shut your traps and shift. Princess here’s going to show us where the knickknacks are kept.” She shot him a look. Immediately she knew he was after the Fabergé egg. Though her father owned many items worth much more, most people who knew nothing of antiques still knew Fabergé eggs were rare and valuable. Thanks to his bold contribution to an article on Fabergé in Forbes, his ownership of one of the most opulent Fabergés in existence was public knowledge. She cringed inside. She’d been such a fool. Her father had always claimed the low profile he expected her to take in life was to protect her against this very sort of kidnapping-ransom scheme. Stupidly she’d believed him, when in fact he’d only wanted to keep her existence quiet so she could disappear without anyone raising questions. Lucy shrugged out of her top and flung it at Thayer. She released her bra in the back and dived forward, lupine before Josh or the fat man got an eyeful of boob. She was mangy, and Randie realized werewolves transformed into beasts that reflected who they were as humans. No wonder Aidan was such a beautiful, strong wolf with an amazing pelt of gorgeous fur. Josh transformed into a sleek black wolf with a menacing face. He looked almost monstrous as he turned his muzzle on her and drew back his lips in a saliva-stringy snarl. “Bad dog,” she snapped in response. What awaited her after they left was much worse than any of them could imagine, and she wasn’t going to let them intimidate her. When the fat man transformed, she nearly laughed. He looked like an old, fat dog. He sat on his haunches and regarded her with big, dopey eyes. Thayer stuffed their clothes into a backpack, which he shrugged on. He grabbed her by the arm and ushered her forward. “Come on, princess. We don’t got a lot of time.” The marble tile rang with the clicking of the wolves’ toenails. “Now where is it?” “Where is what?” She jerked her arm free, pretending ignorance. “Your daddy has a lot of expensive trinkets. Let’s have a look-see, shall we?”

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She veered into the main parlor downstairs, a visiting room her father loved to show off. The glass display case illuminating his treasures under flattering amber light took up a good portion of one wall. She gestured with a hand. “There you go.” Thayer walked over while the other three stood guard on her. He gazed at the items almost reverently. “What’s that?” “Depends on what you believe. If you’re a gullible fool, it’s a piece of the Two Brothers. If you’re smart, it’s petrified wood.” “What two brothers?” “A boat,” she answered simply. If she said “Moby Dick,” they probably still wouldn’t know what she was talking about. He moved to the side of the case and examined the digital lock sealing the access doors. “Open it,” he ordered without looking at her. “I can’t. I don’t know the security code.” Thayer stomped across the room so fast he sent her heart leaping. He pressed his knife against her cheek. “Open it.” “I can’t!” she screamed back. She stared at him with defiance, willing away the moisture pooling in her eyes. “Go ahead. Do it!” She swallowed noisily. He would know she was afraid. She didn’t care. Thayer made a growling sound and turned away. He lifted his foot and jumped toward the case. His boot made a solid thud. Several items, including the egg, toppled off their display stands, but the case only shivered slightly. A warning chime sounded, not loud or urgent, but enough to make Thayer look panicked. “What’s that?” “You triggered the alarm. Did I forget to mention that’s bulletproof glass?” “Shut it off!” She heard a chirp. The fat wolf let out a shrill yelp and rolled over like a dog performing a trick. Metal tinkled on the marble floor, and the tang of gunpowder hit her senses. It all happened instantaneously, leaving a moment of stunned silence for understanding to catch up.

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“Gullible fool indeed.” Her father stepped out of the shadows. He’d come out of the hidden door that led to one of several panic rooms in the house. He’d been watching them through security cameras the whole time. Incomprehensible fear crushed down like a pressurized weight. A small sliver of hope had persisted, that she might slip away before he came home, that the Dark Ones might keep her for some plot against Aidan, at least sparing her from her father’s evil intentions. “Listen, old man—” Her father shot Thayer before he could finish. Randie screamed and backed away. Thayer fell to the floor, clutching his shoulder. He shifted, rolling upright onto all fours. Blood flowed freely from the wound. When he shifted back to human form, now twisted in his clothing, she saw the ragged exit wound in his back. She gawked in amazement as it appeared to knit before her eyes. Healing capabilities. Aidan hadn’t told her anything about that. Were all werewolves different? Or was that why there was only blood on his shoulder after he’d fought that other wolf at his cabin, but no wound? The fat man transformed back into human form. Naked, he lay on the floor, clutching his wounded leg and howling with pain. “Oh God!” Randie guessed that unlike Thayer’s wound, the bullet was still in his leg—in the bone, probably—and that was why the injury didn’t appear to be healing. Scrabbling claws clicked across the marble. Josh and Lucy made a run for it. Her father fired off a succession of shots, but Randie didn’t know if any of them hit their targets. He appeared monstrous in his glee, more evil than she remembered him. She’d known he had a vast collection of guns, but she’d never seen him use them. Dr. Hastings emerged from the now open panel in the wall. His face was white, his eyes wide like a panicked animal’s. “God, Jesus.” He sagged into a chair. “You didn’t say you were going to kill anyone.” “Pishposh. I haven’t killed anyone. Not yet.” The doctor pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his brow. “It’s really true. They can really do it.”

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“Get up! Get her.” Her father barked his demand viciously, gesturing toward her with a terrifying flip of the gun. His eyes lit with fury and something else she’d glimpsed before but never recognized. Insanity. “Yes, it seems it is true. They can transform themselves into wolves. I cannot begin to say how delighted I am to finally see proof. I was beginning to suspect the stories were nothing more than urban legends. Dr. Hastings, I guess you will have to eat your hat after all.” Randie gaped at him, hardly able to believe what she’d just heard. Her father had known about werewolves? Her father turned on Thayer and advanced slowly, grinning wildly. “I wonder if you’ll heal so quickly from a bullet in the head.” “Don’t.” Thayer held up a hand. “Please.” Randie’s stomach lurched. She hoped her father wouldn’t shoot, if only because she couldn’t tolerate seeing such a grotesque and violent murder. Dr. Hastings moved up behind Randie and seized her arms, but held her lightly. “I’m sorry, Madeline,” he whispered. He urged her backward and around a Maitland couch. “Please don’t?” her father mocked. “This from the man who set out to ransom five million dollars from me and rob me of my valuables? Tell me, sir, why I shouldn’t.” “I can change you. Make you like us. You want to feel fifty years younger?” “Oh yes, I absolutely do. But not by your hand, no, not by you, you mangy mutt. I care about what courses through my blood. Tell me, where is Mr. Chase?” “He’s dead,” Randie shouted before anyone else could answer. “They killed him.” Saying it made her breath hitch in her throat. She wished, hoped, prayed it wasn’t true, but if saying so meant she turned her insane father off his goal of finding Aidan, she would lie a thousand times. “He’s like you, is he not?” he demanded of Thayer. He gave a nonchalant toss with the gun as he strode forward. “A werewolf?” Randie continued backing away. She bumped into Dr. Hastings, but just as quickly he moved backward too. His hands on her arms trembled.

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“He was.” Thayer hesitated in answering, and Randie knew her father would think he was lying. “But it’s true. We killed him in Denver.” Randie forced a dramatic sob for her father’s benefit. In the back of her mind she understood her father believed being “bitten” would cure him and thus render the surgery unnecessary, but at the forefront she knew it wouldn’t save her life. Now that she knew the truth about him, she was a liability. She had to protect the man she loved, even if it meant her own quicker death. Her father twisted toward her. His face looked monstrous. “Bring her here.” She felt Dr. Hastings wince. Randie took a deep breath. Silence hovered between them, broken only by the injured man’s pitiful sobs as he cried like a little boy. “Oh, do shut up.” Her father fired the kill shot. The fat man collapsed, and his sounds instantly cut off. Her body turned ice cold, and her stomach started to rise. Of her captors, the fat man was the only one who had been almost nice to her, and she hadn’t wanted to see him killed. “As you see, my dear, I have no qualms about killing.” His maniacal grin fell away as he swept the gun toward Thayer. “You don’t move!” Now on his feet, Thayer held up his hands. “What are you going to do to me?” He shrugged in an attempt to look nonchalant, but Randie could see his fatigue. He was short of breath, and his lips had gone colorless. He gave a tug at his tie and forced a smirk. “Kill you, probably. Hastings, hurry it up.” He gave another toss with the gun, this time beckoning Dr. Hastings to come. With each sweep of the black muzzle, her heart did a tap dance in her chest. Dr. Hastings inched her forward slowly, as though he was as terrified of her father as she was. “You aren’t going to get away with this,” she insisted. “I told people about what I found in your study. If I disappear, people will come looking.” “Let’s hope you won’t have to, dear.” He reached out and seized her forearm. His hand shook, but his bony grip dug into her flesh. He pulled her close and kept his aim on Thayer. “If our friend Aidan Chase does as he’s told, we’ll all have long, happy lives ahead of us.” “You’re too late,” she said as her world crumbled around her. “What they told you is true. Aidan’s dead.”

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Chapter Sixteen Eldridge Forsythe had Rottweilers. Three of them, judging by the scents marking the house. One about ten years old, the other two young and fit and probably ass-kickers. Rotties posed a formidable challenge. Unlike werewolves who possessed the knowledge and maturity of their human alter egos, guard dogs had simple minds and single-focused determination to tear to pieces anything that stepped between them and their owner. Aidan followed the scent to the doggy door with Faulkner hot on his heels. They slipped into the dark house through a mudroom off the kitchen. Faulkner dropped his duffel and nosed it between a case of carpet-cleaning solution and an industrial-sized steamer stored under a low shelf. Aidan’s wad of clothes was more obvious, but he was thankful to have them out of his mouth and liked the idea of stashing them near an exit. He trotted silently after Faulkner, guessing they were aimed toward the front. He hadn’t seen this part of the house when he’d met with Forsythe the first time, and the Rottweilers’ scents were so strong he couldn’t pick out anything else. He was beginning to think they’d made a mistake in following the van here when a scream cut through the ominous silence. It was Randie. A female wolf tore past. She was a Dark One. Aidan identified her scent immediately, but she was in a panic and didn’t even spare him a glance. She raced into the mudroom and dived through the doggy door, leaving it flapping wildly. Aidan took off in the direction of Randie’s voice with Faulkner racing after him. They came across a young man lying naked on the floor. A bloody wound on his hip closed up slowly before their eyes. It wasn’t bad, proving he’d been shot while lupine and shifted back to human

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to heal. He looked at Aidan and appeared slightly surprised, but then understanding filled his eyes. At the other end of the hall, a hulking bodyguard rounded the corner, holding a silencerequipped pistol. “Don’t even try it, fleabag.” Aidan glanced behind him. Faulkner had vanished. “Switch back.” The bodyguard enunciated the order with jabs of the gun. The young man shifted to wolf form again. All traces of the wound evaporated. “That’s right. Good doggy. Don’t need no naked wang flopping around for all to see.” The Dark One whimpered and lowered his head in a submissive posture before Aidan. It was clear something had gone terribly wrong with their plan. “Now heel, mongrels.” He backed against the wall and gestured for them to precede him. “And don’t you try anything, or it won’t be a flesh wound you get from me. I know you can understand me. Jesus Christ. If I didn’t see it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t believe it. What the boss wants with this, I don’t know, but it ain’t for me, got it? So keep your fangs to yourself.” The man trailed behind at what he thought was a safe distance. Aidan padded along beside the Dark One, growling low in his throat. He wanted the other to understand that even though he was here to stop Forsythe, the Dark Ones were still in deep shit. Where had Faulkner gone? He had to believe his brother had been honest and wasn’t up to something devious. Aidan followed the sound of voices past the front doors, recognizing this part of the house. They were in the large living room he’d passed on his the way to Forsythe’s office for his interview that first, fateful day. He heard Randie’s voice, low and shaking with terror, and he increased his pace. They entered the room in time to hear her say, “You’re too late. What they told you is true. Aidan’s dead.” “Well then, that’s just too bad for you, my dear. It seems I’ll need your heart after all.” Forsythe placed the muzzle of his gun to Randie’s temple. “Hastings, take her to the operating room.”

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Aidan had to act fast. The doctor mopped his brow. “I won’t do it. This is murder, Eldridge. Lord help me, I never believed you’d really go through with it.” “You think I paid a fortune in surgical equipment over the years merely to entertain a fantasy? You’ll do it, man”—Forsythe pointed his gun at Dr. Hastings—“with a bullet in your foot or without. The choice is yours.” A flash of reddish brown flew through Aidan’s peripheral vision, a sense that was stronger when lupine, and prompted him to act. Faulkner charged the bodyguard. The man lifted his gun in surprise. Faulkner bit down on his hand. The muzzle boomed, and wood chips exploded from an ornate credenza. Aidan charged the old man before he thought it through. Forsythe still held Randie around the throat with one arm, and the other swept in a wide arc as he sought Faulkner. “No!” Randie shoved his arm upward. Aidan leaped for the old man’s throat. Something hit him hard, and for a moment he thought he’d been kicked. The hot blaze of pain that followed told him he’d been shot. It happened in a split second, too fast for him to rethink the bite he intended. Instead of the old man’s scrawny neck, he bit down on Randie’s arm as she moved into his path. She screamed as his fangs tore through flesh. Aidan felt the crack of a bone start to give way beneath his fangs. Immediately but still too late, he released her. She and her father toppled backward. Aidan let go and fell. His left foreleg didn’t support him, and he rolled. It hurt like the lash of a glowing hot whip, but it wasn’t life-threatening. Randie scrambled away on her hands and knees, yelping again as she put weight on her arm. She dragged herself behind a fancy white couch for protection. Aidan advanced, growling. He shifted, enjoying the itch and stretch of knitting flesh and muscle. He turned human in a crouch and stood upright, towering menacingly over the cowering old man. Forsythe’s horrified gaze shifted to the fallen pistol, and Aidan kicked it out of reach with his bare foot. “You’re done.” Forsythe reached with a skinny, wrinkled arm. “Please. You must help me.”

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“Sounds familiar,” a voice spat. “Fuck him, I say! Tit for tat!” It was Thayer Brice, the man who’d been driving the cargo van. He pushed upright while holding a wound on his shoulder. “Really?” Aidan growled in response. “Then what do you deserve?” Thayer didn’t respond, only rolled over as he shifted into a mangy wolf and limped toward the door. Faulkner, now in human form in front of the fallen guard, shifted back and engaged him. Their growls and shrieks bounced off the walls. The third Dark One backed into the far corner, whimpering. Aidan snatched up the pistol and leaned over Forsythe, baring his teeth in a way the old man would find more terrifying than if he were in wolf form. “You ever go near her again, and you’ll die sooner than you ever dreamed you would. Take that as a promise.” The doctor’s wheezing pulled his attention to the couch Randie hid behind. Hastings sprawled crookedly against it, arms splayed wide and eyes shock white. “Calm yourself. You’re in no danger.” Aidan rounded the couch to find Randie on her side, leaning on one elbow as she cradled her injured arm. He dropped to one knee. “Randie, I’m so sorry.” She looked up, and the pain in her face turned to joy. “Aidan! Thank God!” He took her in his arms, and a rush of divine relief washed over him. “I was so worried they’d killed you.” She eased back to look at him. “Are you all right? The accident was so terrible—” “Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine. Let me see your arm.” She winced when he took her hand and pushed up her sleeve, but still smiled. “I hoped it was you, but I was afraid to believe… When I saw that beautiful silver coat…I prayed so hard.” He’d broken the skin. His saliva had mixed with her blood. He touched her cheek. She was already hot with fever. The stress from her ordeal would slow the change, but not by much. “I told you, you’re my mate. I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to you.”

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“He said Ryan.” She grimaced against the pain. “Someone named Ryan was passing them information.” He knew she must feel like she was dying, but still she was more concerned about him. “Baby, don’t worry about that now.” “Aidan, I need you!” Faulkner’s voice held a high note of urgency. “Busy.” “He’s getting away!” “Go.” Randie smiled through her tears. She lifted her hand to touch his face, as if to prove her arm was all right. “I’ll be fine now that I know you’re alive.” He nodded. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” There was no time to explain what was going to happen. He needed the leader, and only one of them could go after him. Someone had to stay here. If they didn’t catch the Dark One, this terrible mess would be for nothing. Aidan ejected the clip from the old man’s pistol. Four bullets remained and one in the chamber. He stashed it underneath the couch. The room was in chaos. The beeping alarm on the valuables case still sang its tinny chime. The doctor still looked like he was going to have a heart attack. The fighting sounds had ceased for human shouts, but they belonged to Faulkner and the bodyguard he’d bitten. The man thrashed in terror, parts of his body transforming lupine and shifting back without his control. Faulkner did his best to restrain him, but the black man was huge and brawny. This was bad. The guy had declared outright he didn’t want to be bitten, he didn’t want to be like them, and it was illegal to turn humans against their will. Faulkner didn’t care much for the laws of the council, but Aidan governed his pack by them. This was going to come back badly on him; he was sure of it. “Go after Brice,” Aidan ordered. “I’ll take care of him.” Faulkner took a fist to the nose before he could restrain the large man’s meaty arm. “Easier said than done, bro.” The bodyguard flipped him, but Faulkner managed to continue rolling him and regained the upper hand.

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Aidan growled a curse as he shifted and raced from the room. He caught Thayer’s scent and tore down the hall. Aidan expected his trail to lead outside, but the scent led him up the stairs. He found Thayer in a master suite, back in human form, tearing through a dresser drawer looking for valuables. Aidan leaped over the bed and sank his teeth into the other’s shoulder. Thayer let out a howl and transformed into his wolf form, but not before Aidan came away with a mouthful of blood and flesh. Thayer’s cry ended in a mournful howl. Aidan bit him by the neck and tossed him. Even at his peak, Thayer was no match for him. He still hadn’t healed from his gunshot wound. Neither had Aidan, but he had rage driving him. Thayer tried to run, but Aidan locked his jaws on a back leg and dragged him back into the room. He flipped him like a gator in a death roll and pinned him down with a bite to the muzzle. Thayer went limp in surrender. Aidan relaxed his bite, allowing him to shift back. “All right, all right. I give!” Aidan urged him ahead with a snarling bark. He escorted the man back down to the main room before shifting to human form. Faulkner had managed to pin the bodyguard. The man lay on his side, panting, limp with exhaustion. He was naked, his clothes scattered about the area after he’d shed them in his frenzied shifting. Eldridge Forsythe sat in a chair, hands in his lap, looking broken and defeated. “Mr. Chase, come quickly!” Dr. Hastings knelt on the cushion, peering over the back of the couch. Randie lay on the floor in wolf form, tangled in her clothes. She thrashed, trying to kick free of them and right herself. “Oh no.” He was too late. “Easy, sweetheart, it’s all right.” He knelt beside her and gently pushed her down. She looked at him and whined. The pitiful sound cut straight through his heart. She immediately went back to struggling. He could guide her through this best as a wolf. If he didn’t help her, she might never be able to transform back. Her terror showed in the whites of her eyes, and Aidan knew it felt a thousand times worse than it looked.

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He shifted, feeling a dizzying rush from too many transformations. He gave a fierce shake like a dog coming out of water. When his vision cleared, he saw Randie staggering away. She nearly toppled over sideways; then she was off and running. He gave a single bark as he raced after her. She wouldn’t understand the lupine language yet, but he hoped to convey reassurance in his tone and pitch. It could take years for her to learn the subtleties of their communication and the million different inflections a single bark could make. Ordinarily he could have overtaken her. She was clumsy in her unfamiliar state, but they were crowded in the halls and narrow doorways of the house, and he felt like a race car driver who just couldn’t gain the pass. Then she was scrambling through the doggy door into the twilight air. He didn’t dare bite her leg to try and stop her. Her paws hit the dirt, and Randie surprised him with astounding speed. He poured his strength into pursuit, but his muscles were stiff, and he was feeling the effects of too many rapid transformations. Now her head and tail were high, her tongue lolling, and she zigzagged like an excited child let loose on a wondrous playground. She was beautiful, he couldn’t help but notice, with a rich brown coat that gleamed with vitality and strong muscle definition. He kept close, but didn’t try to pin her. Randie obviously knew where she was going. She darted left and right, seeing sights and smelling scents through lupine senses for the first time, but kept near a dirt trail leading into the woods behind the house. At the top of a hill more than a mile away, she slipped under the lowest beam on a wooden fence, and Aidan understood; she wanted off her father’s property. She finally stopped and circled to face him. He read no stress in her lupine body language. She’d known he was behind her the whole time. She transformed back to the smooth white body he’d feared he’d never see again. She flopped down on a pile of leaves and laughed. He shifted back over a sigh of relief and crawled over her on all fours. “You scared the hell out of me.”

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“It feels incredible!” She was still panting, but he sensed it was from excitement, not the run. “I was afraid you wouldn’t know how to turn back.” Randie looped her arms around his neck. “It seemed so natural.” She kissed him, still laughing. “You did this by biting me?” He nodded, flushed with a wave of guilt. “It’s wonderful! God, I’m so happy to see you. I was so worried about you.” “Jesus, girl.” “Kiss me.” “I am kissing you.” “Take me. Right now.” She linked her legs around his waist, urging him down. “Right here.” “We should get back. We still have a big problem at the house.” Even as he said it, Randie’s roaming hands and writhing body convinced him otherwise. “I thought I’d lost you. I need to feel you, Aidan, now. I can’t wait another minute.” He gave in, just as desperate to feel her. And to claim her, his wolf mate, with the finality of his kind. Leaves crackled beneath them, and the breeze cooled their heated flesh. The scent of rich earth filled his nostrils, and Randie’s skin felt like pure magic. He pressed her down and entered her on a solid stroke, dragging a groan from deep in her throat as he filled her. Her eyes went dreamy as her pussy gloved him. She looked beautiful lying on a blanket of red and orange leaves, her body surrendered to his. “I love you, Aidan.” Her words sounded like music. He seized her mouth, conveying the sentiment in return as he thrust into her as deeply as her body would allow. She threw back her head and cried out from the sheer power of it.

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Strength regained, he pummeled into her with pounding hips, driving her and himself to crescendo. Feeling the enormity of all that had happened, he claimed her, erupting with a hot flood of cum to bond their mating with permanence. She was his, woman and wolf. Randie’s legs tightened, and her body arched against him as orgasm consumed her. She screamed out her pleasure like a wild animal, urging him to meet her on the pinnacle her new self provided. She was revitalized, reborn. Everything would be more vivid to her now: her sense of smell stronger, her eyesight sharper; even food would taste sweeter. She’d detect subtleties in flavors she never noticed before. “That was amazing.” And sex would be a thousand times more incredible. “Glad you liked it.” He brushed a kiss across her temple. They lay entwined until the cool air became cold against their bare skin. “Randie.” She nodded and murmured a response without opening her eyes. “Do you understand what’s happened?” “I hope you’re going to say you’ve changed me, that it wasn’t just a one-time thing.” She opened her eyes now, and they were almost pleading as they settled on him. “Is that really what you want?” He was afraid she would be horrified at the prospect of living half her life as an animal. But Randie touched his cheek. “The only thing I want more is to face what the future holds with you.” His relief was profound. “Do you think you can change back?” She sat up. “It was strange before, like I was overtaken by the wolf inside me.” “You’ll learn to control the wolf. I wish I had more time to help you along, but we have to get back to the house.” She rose to her knees and grasped his forearm. “We have the time, Aidan. You saved me. We’ve prevailed, and now we’re free.” She smiled, and her eyes glistened. “There are trials

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ahead; I understand that. But my father didn’t hurt me, and the Dark Ones didn’t hurt you. We’re going to be okay.” He leaned in and kissed her slowly and deeply. Despite everything she’d been through, she possessed admirable spirit. She’d survived her nightmare and come out of it with a positive attitude. She truly was a special woman. “If you don’t feel ready to shift again, you’re probably safe to walk back to the house without being seen.” She burst out laughing, and his heart felt a few ounces lighter. “Naked? I don’t think so. Besides, I want to try.” “If you’re sure…” “I am,” she assured him. “Go straight to the house. No exploring.” She nodded. “I promise.” “Concentrate on the wolf. Imagine your paws, your fur, the sensation of walking on all fours.” Before he finished speaking, she shifted back into her beautiful brown wolf. She cocked her head to look at her front paws and the prints she made in the soft earth. He shifted and nudged her into a run, headed back to the house. They made quicker work of the downhill trek. Once she slipped through the doggy door, she trotted quietly upstairs. In the center of her bedroom, Randie shifted. She remained in a crouched position for a moment before she stood upright and regarded him solemnly. “I need a shower, and then I want out of this house forever.” “Randie.” Anxiety bunched her shoulders. She stopped and regarded him with sad eyes. He cupped her chin and leaned in for a kiss. “I love you too.” This brought a smile and a visible release of tension. She rifled through the remaining clothes in the closet, finally deciding on a pair of casual dress slacks and a button-up blouse. “Where are your clothes?”

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“Downstairs in the room off the kitchen.” She dragged a fluffy robe off its hanger. “This will do for now.” She dumped her remaining underwear and socks into an overnight bag. “Shower with me.” “My pleasure.” Her private bathroom was opulent, the shower more than large enough for both of them, but Aidan hoped he would never see it, or any part of this house, again.

*** They found the others in the drawing room where they’d left them. A naked man perched on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees, a sleek silver pistol dangling from one hand. “Took your sweet time,” he snapped. Randie recognized him as the dark-haired man who’d hit on her at Dolly’s. “This is Faulkner?” “This is Faulkner.” Aidan tossed his miniduffel at him. “Get dressed.” Her father’s bodyguard, Monroe, sat across from Faulkner in rumpled clothes, sweating profusely and looking like he wanted to crawl out of his skin. The fat man was sitting up. Randie felt a spark of relief. He still clutched his leg, but the angry red streak across his forehead revealed her father’s shot had narrowly missed the kill. He regarded her forlornly, as guilty as a cat with canary feathers stuck to its lips. “I’m sorry, miss.” “I’m glad he didn’t kill you,” she told him. “Of all of them, you were nicest to me. But I don’t think I can accept your apology. What you did to me was unforgiveable.” He swallowed. “No, I mean, I’m sorry for…” He looked back at Dr. Hastings. “Madeline.” The doctor rose. He was deathly pale, and for a moment he swayed unsteadily on his feet. “It’s your father.” She’d seen he was still sitting on the Queen Anne where she’d glimpsed him as she’d run from the room as a wolf—a shriveled waste of a man whose greatest plan in life had just been thwarted. Now she noticed his eyes were closed. “His heart finally quit.”

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Her knees gave out. Aidan caught her from behind. He eased her to the couch. The hope she’d experienced only moments ago vanished as she was reminded of who she was and what she was destined for. “That’s my future,” she told him. “Maybe alive until sixty, looking like a hundred.” “No, Madeline.” Dr. Hastings sat beside her and took her hand. “You aren’t like him. I lied about your condition.” She gaped at him. Had she heard correctly? “You were fourteen when my Tracy died. Everything in my world changed that summer, especially my outlook on your father’s outrageous intentions.” He pushed himself back on the couch and shook his head. “Honestly I never believed he’d truly go through with any of this. I really did think he was indulging in some bizarre fantasy to give himself hope. I wasn’t brave enough to go to the police and for that I’m sorry. I figured, what’s the harm in taking the crazy old man’s money? Then when he started researching the werewolves…” She’d known her father’s resources were far-reaching, but they were apparently more thorough than she’d first believed. She’d been a fool to think she could ever escape him. Dr. Hasting’s expression turned sheepish. “Mr. Chase, you have to understand, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed it. I figured he’d gone off the deep end and I was just glad he’d shifted his attention away from Madeline.” He looked at her again. “In any case, I kept up the lie. I thought if he believed you were sick, he’d give up and nobody would get hurt. The specialist you saw in New York? He was an associate I convinced to lie with me. You were never sick, and I don’t believe you ever will be.” “But…what about my dizziness? What about the nausea if I didn’t warm up slowly enough?” “Some of what you felt is the same for everyone, Madeline. But if I were to provide a medical explanation for it, I’d have to say it was psychosomatic. The meds you’ve been taking over the years were placebos. Mild multivitamins, nothing more.” She turned to Aidan with tears swimming in her eyes. “Did you hear that?” “I did.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Even so, you’re changed now, Maddie. You don’t have to worry it may someday afflict you.”

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She placed her hand over his and laughed as two tears spilled free. “I can hardly believe it.” She wiped them away and looked at her father, the sad, pathetic old fool who’d let obsession ruin his life instead of simply enjoying what he had of it. She rose and stalked over to him. She had to see for herself he was truly dead, that she was truly free. Already his flesh was ashen. He was so thin, his veins so pronounced, she could see his jugular no longer pulsed. She felt with two fingers and confirmed it. And gruesomely, her newly heightened senses allowed her to smell the decay of death already creeping over him. Dr. Hastings stepped up beside her. “You two should go. I’ll take care of this. The medical examiner will confirm he died of natural causes.” He stood back and looked at her. “You’re a rich woman now. He had a trust, not a will, so you don’t have to go through probate.” She took a step back, suddenly nauseated. “I don’t want any of it.” “Then do something good with it,” the doctor insisted. Aidan took her arm. “Come on. Let’s go.” “No, I need to stay. Regardless of what he tried to do to me, I’m still his daughter.” When he looked unconvinced she nodded. “I can handle it. I’m done running away.” “I don’t need to stay.” Monroe shoved off the settee. “It’s been real fun, but I don’t want to see any of you freaks ever again.” He gave Faulkner a threatening look when he stepped up to stop him. “Do you know his name?” Aidan asked Dr. Hastings. The doctor nodded. He turned to Faulkner. “Let him go.” “Got that right. Try and stop me.” Monroe stalked out. “What about me?” Thayer demanded. “Don’t you mean what about us?” the fat man asked, scowling. Only Lucy had gotten away, she realized. The younger one, Josh, sat in a chair near the fat man, who was still naked on the floor. “Yeah, what about us?” Josh demanded. He tried to sound tough, but Randie heard his voice quaver, and his eyes betrayed his fear. “If you try to turn us in, you’ll have to explain all of this.”

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“I don’t see a problem with that,” Randie said. “But I think we’re going to deal with you ourselves.” Faulkner paused in rifling through Thayer’s backpack and grinned at Randie. “I like her.” He tossed clothes at all of them and brought Lucy’s bra to his face. “What of it, bro? You want me to track the bitch?” “Leave her. Something tells me our business is with this one.” He stalked over to Thayer and hauled him up by the arm. “We’re going to have a serious talk.”

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Chapter Seventeen Dr. Hastings removed the bullet from the fat one’s leg, whom they’d learned was named Wilbur when Randie had finally asked. He wailed and screamed and moaned until she reminded him he was lucky to be alive. And Aidan reminded him his luck could still run out. They brought the kidnappers to the kennels and placed them in cages, each separated by a dog. They were made to strip, hand their clothes out, and shift to their wolf forms. Even though the Rotties knew her, they still went crazy when she moved them apart. “Dogs don’t like us much,” Aidan told her. “Cats either. In fact, you’ll have a hard time finding an animal who doesn’t take an instinctual dislike to us.” “I have a lot to learn,” she said, and he could tell the idea saddened her. She was an animal lover, and he thought of the kitten she’d saved in the alley. His scent alone had made the little thing hiss like a viper. “No talking. No shifting,” Aidan ordered. “I’ll be watching you through the cameras. I see you shift, Faulkner comes back with the gun.” They left them to deal with the Rotties’ headache-inducing barking. Her calm stayed in place, held by a thin thread of control, as the sheriff and medical examiner arrived and saw to her father. She was pale and shaking when she greeted them, and Aidan was thankful Dr. Hastings had reclaimed his composure and did most of the talking. He sensed the doctor felt a profound amount of relief this macabre and horrific journey had come to an end. Despite the dark mood drifting through the house like a fog, Aidan buzzed with energy from Randie’s introduction of him to the sheriff as her fiancé.

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She’d been right. They’d persevered. They had overcome. She was going to stay in his life, and he wouldn’t allow himself to feel guilty for rejoicing. He’d paid his dues with tragedy and sorrow already. They both had. After the medical examiner left with Eldridge Forsythe’s body, Aidan found his brother half-drunk in a lavish guest suite, wearing an opulent silk robe. His hair was wet, and Aidan scented expensive sandalwood shampoo on the steam drifting from the bath. “Found it in the clean laundry,” Faulkner said by way of a greeting. He slugged back a mouthful of whiskey. “Otherwise I’d never have put it on.” He swirled the remains in the bottom of the glass. “Nasty old man. You didn’t tell me he wanted to cut her heart out.” “You sober enough to handle this?” Faulkner slammed his drink down on the sideboard. The rap of glass against marble sounded like gunfire. “You’re never going to stop doubting me, are you?” “Look, Faulkner—” “Let’s get to it.” He shrugged out of the robe and tossed it on the bed. In seconds he’d slipped into his clothes again. “I’m ready to end this.” His brother didn’t speak as they retrieved the trio from the kennels. With the bullet removed from his leg, Wilbur’s wound was healing faster, but he still had a severe limp in both wolf and human form. After handing out clothing so the men could dress again, they placed Thayer in a dog collar and secured it with a miniature luggage padlock. If he shifted, he could slip right out of handcuffs, but the collar was secure. “We can use the library,” Randie offered. “There’s a lot of room. The furniture is widely spaced there.” Aidan stopped her, letting Faulkner escort their prisoners ahead. He sensed she didn’t want to go back to the main parlor where so much violence had occurred. “Are you sure you want to see this? The Dark Ones are really bad people. They’ve done terrible things. It might upset you, and you’ve already been through so much.”

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“I’m all right, Aidan. Believe it or not, I’m better than I’ve been in a long time.” She touched his hand where it rested on her arm. “I need to know what they did. It’s part of your past, and I want to be there for you.” He nodded, more grateful for that than he let on. She was right, it was part of his past, but moving on from it was also part of their future. Faulkner stood over Thayer, who sat alone on a wide, padded leather couch. Josh and Wilbur sat together on the couch’s twin, separated by a sprawling oriental rug. The only windows were near the raised ceiling, above tall bookcases that required a rolling ladder to reach. Dr. Hastings stood guard over the other two, clutching a pistol in shaking hands. Aidan grabbed Thayer by the collar and walked him to a single chair placed before the desk overlooking the wide room. “Who is your contact in my organization?” “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Aidan backhanded him. He then sat at the wide desk and leaned his elbows on the felt desk blotter, watching Thayer rub his cheek. “Randie, do you have a video camera?” She nodded and hurried off. Moments later she came back with a palmcorder. She set it on a bust stand, made sure it had a clear view of Thayer, and moved to the back of the room near Dr. Hastings. “Who is your contact in my pack?” “I don’t know nobody in your pack.” “It’s Ryan Fairchild,” Wilbur said. Thayer twisted in the chair and sent a glare flying like an arrow. “Shut up.” Faulkner stalked up behind Thayer and slugged him. “Who is your contact in my pack?” Aidan demanded again. Even though he knew as much already, he wanted the answer from Thayer. And he wanted the man to know, no matter how long it took, he expected each and every question answered. “We don’t have time for this shit,” Faulkner growled. “Let me beat it out of him.”

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Aidan held up a hand. “Calm down. He’ll talk, unless he wants to spend the rest of his life eating dog food in a kennel between two Rottweilers.” “You don’t got nothing on me.” Thayer rubbed the back of his head. “You can’t keep me here.” “Who’ll stop me?” Aidan glanced at the phone on the desk. “I could call the council if you prefer. Who is your contact in my pack?” “Ryan Fairchild,” he spat back. He’d been mulling it over ever since Jillian first suggested him. It didn’t make sense; he’d known Ryan since they were kids. “Why did he give you information?” Silence. “You’re going to get hungry. You don’t eat so much as a kibble until I get my information. Want to try again tomorrow?” Thayer shrugged. “Ryan has a little problem.” He tapped his index finger against his nose. Drugs? It couldn’t be. Aidan would have been able to scent it on him. If Ryan was an addict, even the stress from withdrawals would be detectable in his sweat. Aidan’s obvious doubt amused Thayer. “He likes the good stuff. Sometimes coke, sometimes meth. Couldn’t smell it on him, could you? Boy wasn’t dumb. He used recreationally as you yuppies put it, only on the weekends. But Lucy gave him the primo, got him liking it too much. Now he’s got a nice little habit going.” “Why?” “Why! Why! Why! Because he’s our path to you, Aidan Chase, the great Aidan Chase.” “Did you kill Isabella?” Thayer went stone-cold still. He formed a slow smile that turned into a sinister laugh. “Did you kill Isabella?” He kept laughing until Faulkner punched him in the head. When Thayer stayed silent, he locked his arm around Thayer’s neck until the man turned beet red. “Laugh it up, mongrel. We’ll see who’s laughing when your head pops like a tick.”

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Aidan allowed his brother to have his way long enough to be convincing. Maybe letting Randie sit in on this wasn’t such a good idea. Dredging up the past revitalized his anger, and he couldn’t deny he wanted the man to suffer. Up until that moment, he still hadn’t been convinced the Dark Ones knew anything about her death; he’d merely been waiting to see where Faulkner’s ideas went. But now rage was pounding in his ears, and he was afraid of what he might do if he found out he was sitting across from Isabella’s killer. He glanced at Randie. She was quiet, her face blank, but he could see the darkness of too much horror in her eyes. “Did you kill Isabella?” Thayer coughed and cleared his throat. “Better call your council, Alpha.” “He did it!” Wilbur shouted. “I don’t want no trouble with the council! I was there. He did it. I’ll tell you what you want to know.” Josh jumped up and kicked Wilbur’s injured leg. Wilbur shrieked. “Whoa!” Dr. Hastings tensed, and the muzzle thundered. Josh went down with a howl. A curtain of blood gushed down his arm. Randie screamed, and Wilbur started crying. Faulkner hurried over. “I’ll take that.” He pried the gun from the doctor’s shaking hands. Dr. Hastings collapsed on the sofa. “Dear God.” “That fuckin’ hurts!” Josh sat up and glared. He shifted, twisting over onto all fours, and gave a bone-chilling howl. “Don’t shoot me!” Wilbur begged. “I’ll tell you everything. Please, just don’t shoot me again.” “Open your mouth, and I’ll fucking kill you.” Thayer’s threat was low and ominous. Wilbur ignored him. “He needed a weak link in your pack, and Ryan is a party man. Getting him hooked was easy. Thayer had him trickling money out of your accounts to pay his debt, but Ryan didn’t like doing it. Ryan told him about this case, said the girl”—he bobbed his head in Randie’s direction—“Miss Forsythe, was worth a lot of money. He tried to strike a deal. If he gave Thayer the lowdown, he was square.” “Why did Thayer set out to destroy my pack?” Aidan addressed the question to Wilbur. “Let him figure it out!” Thayer shouted, swiveling his furious glower from Wilbur over to Aidan. “Give him a minute. I’m sure it’ll come to him.”

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The hairs on Aidan’s arms rose. Thayer peeled back his lip in a snarl. “You gonna sit there and add insult to injury?” “If you’ve got some history with me, give it.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled wickedly. “My brother for your brother, Alpha. That little bitch was just icing on the cake.” A moment of silence reigned so deeply Aidan could hear the ticking of the antique grandfather clock across the room. “Who is your brother?” Faulkner crossed the room, looking at Thayer curiously. “Vincent Howell. Jesus. The last name threw me. I should have figured it out.” Understanding crashed over Aidan as the pieces to this macabre puzzle fell into place. His stomach flip-flopped. This was why Isabella had died? “Your brother killed nine people. I can see the family resemblance.” “It was self-defense. He was railroaded.” “They were innocent humans.” Thayer snorted. Aidan shot out of his chair and stalked around the desk, literally tasting the need to thrash. Faulkner stepped in front of him and held him off. Aidan clenched his fists. He’d merely been an agent for the council, an unbiased employee hired to track a killer, but Thayer had taken such grave offense to that, he’d set out to murder an innocent woman and destroy his and Faulkner’s lives? “Get this through your head. I didn’t try him. I didn’t convict him. I just caught him.” “Go ahead. Call your council! I got what I wanted.” Thayer’s face bloomed red. “And now you know why.”

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Chapter Eighteen “Miss Forsythe is lucky she’s worth so much money he wanted to ransom her,” Wilbur said, continuing his horrific tale now that Thayer and Josh were locked in the kennels again. “O’ course I don’t think he knew you two were doing the nasty—” “That’s enough,” Aidan snapped. “Tell me what you know about Isabella’s murder.” Wilbur was perched on the edge of the seat Thayer had occupied earlier. Now he sat back in the chair and glanced from Aidan to Faulkner. He fiddled with the bandage on his leg, clearly hesitant to go on. Randie approached him cautiously. Aidan could see the smile she mustered took a lot of effort. “Wilbur, you have to be honest with us. You’ll feel better if you are.” She glanced at Aidan, and that smile grew. “We all will.” Wilbur swallowed. He looked at Aidan and nodded. “I didn’t know what he was planning. None of us did. We’d been following your brother around because Thayer wanted a fight.” Wilbur shifted a guilty look to Faulkner. “He’s the one who slashed your tires and threw a rock at the windshield of your big, fancy truck.” “Well, there’s one mystery solved.” Faulkner crossed his arms. “Go on.” “He just wanted to beat on you some, get his frustration out. He was an eighteen-year-old hothead. We figured if he bloodied his knuckles some, he’d get it out of his system. We knew he was too scrawny to manage it alone and too proud to admit it, and we didn’t want to see him get pounded. Me and Josh and Luke—Luke took off afterwards and I ain’t seen him since—we went along with him just to keep him out of any real trouble. We never thought he would go that far. I don’t think he did either. I think it was just…a split-second decision. He wasn’t a killer. Not back then, anyway.”

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Everyone had gone deathly still. Back in her seat at the rear of the room, Randie watched the horrible confession play out with wide, frightened eyes. Rage bubbled inside Aidan. He wanted to smash something. “Why didn’t you stop him? You could have saved her.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. For the first time he was glad Faulkner was there. He might kill this mongrel if Faulkner wasn’t. “We couldn’t have.” Wilbur looked at Faulkner, shaking his head. “We didn’t even know you was going to meet her. We followed you to the lookout over Indian Peak. She was already there. You and her had words, and you left.” Still holding the gun, Faulkner pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and paced away. “Christ.” Now Wilbur looked at Aidan. “Thayer thought it would be fun to scare her, one more strike against you to put some fear into your girl. We shifted and were gonna chase her around some, that’s all. She was standing at the edge looking at the view. She didn’t hear us coming, and when she turned around, it was too late. Thayer jumped and knocked her over, and she fell.” A moment of silence felt like hot cotton pressing down on him. It was over three years ago, but the wound came open again, fresh and raw and as painful as the day it had happened. Aidan sagged into the chair, his guts churning. He must have just missed them. On top of the pain, an entirely new level of regret sliced him open. If he’d just gotten there a little earlier, he could have saved her. If he’d only declined the nighttime run. If only he’d taken her to a fancy restaurant that night instead. Her abandoned car and the silence in answer to his calls had immediately sent the hair prickling along his neck. Isabella wouldn’t have set off without him. The overlook was far from town, a place teenagers went to make out in the summer. Its remoteness was exactly why she liked it. Her footprints and the trail of a single wolf in the snow led him to the edge of the overlook. Her scent and the heavy stench of fresh blood brought him over and down the steep, rocky drop. Isabella’s broken and bloodied body had still been warm when he’d found her.

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It had been those single wolf tracks and the unmistakable tire tracks, the thick, beefy tread of Faulkner’s oversize truck tires so clearly driven in and then backed out in a three-point turn, that had tied his brother to the scene. Looking at him, his fists clenched, face tight with pain and eyes blazing with fury, he knew now Faulkner never could have killed Isabella. He’d loved her too. “I swear, none of us knew he was gonna do it.” Wilbur’s voice fell soft. “We wouldn’t have let him. We’d have stopped him, if only we’d known.” Faulkner stalked across the room and locked both hands around Wilbur’s throat. “You were there. You could have helped her.” Aidan shot out of his chair and pulled Faulkner off him. Wilbur’s chair flipped over, and he sprawled on the floor. “You could have called an ambulance. You just left her to die!” Faulkner fought Aidan, clawing for the fat man, spittle flying as he screamed out his rage. Aidan shoved him back. “Enough! We can’t change the past. She’s gone. But now we know the truth.” Faulkner straightened his shirt, staring daggers at Wilbur. “How about what happened since?” Faulkner growled. “You knew. For three years you knew, but you let me take the blame. You ruined my life and my brother’s, all because you’re a selfish coward.” “I’m sorry.” Wilbur covered his face with his hands, sobbing it again and again. He didn’t try to get up. “Leave him alone.” Aidan paced away. Confusion rendered him numb. The agony over Isabella, the rage that had accompanied him all these years, and the hatred for his brother had all taken such a toll on him he didn’t know what to think about first. He bent over the fat man, which made Wilbur wince in fear. Aidan hauled him to his feet. Without a word, he returned Wilbur to the kennel and locked him with his friends.

***

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On his way back from the kennels, Aidan found Faulkner going out the front door. He wore his leather jacket and carried his duffel slung over one shoulder, giving his departure the look of permanence. “Faulkner, wait.” His brother merely stopped and faced him. The expression said the truth had not smoothed things over. Aidan understood that. His brother had every right to be angry, but now was the time for healing. “We should talk.” “You mean you should talk.” Aidan clung to his calm. “It’s been a long three years.” “It ain’t over yet.” “Don’t go. Stay with the pack, at least until you get your bearings.” Faulkner scowled. “Look, Aidan, all this is news to you, and you’re the one who has to come to terms with it. Me, I knew all along I didn’t do it.” He took another step out but stopped. He drew in a deep breath and let it out into the chilly air. “Those ‘words’ Wilbur overheard? It was me trying to get her to come back. She wouldn’t have me. It was you she loved.” It was generous of Faulkner to tell him this, and Aidan understood he didn’t deserve it. He gripped his brother’s arm. “I’m sorry I doubted your word. I’m sorry I believed you capable.” “Hell. It wasn’t too much of a stretch.” He stared out the door into the darkness. “I don’t blame you for that. But I’m not ready to put it under the bridge yet. You’ve got your healing to do. I’ve got mine.” “When you’re ready, then.” He released Faulkner’s arm. “But don’t let too much time pass before you present yourself to the council. When I turn over the Dark Ones, I’ll make a formal statement attesting to your innocence. They’ll need your statement too.” He gave a single nod. “They’ll get it.” “Faulkner.” Randie approached him with a smile. “I know more than anyone what it’s like to need to go your own way.” His brother surprised him by managing a sliver of a smile. “I think he’s in good hands.”

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“Don’t be a stranger. You’ve got a family in us. Remember what you’ve seen here. You could do worse.” “I know I’ve got a good one to come back to, when I’m ready.” He gave Aidan one last glance. Then he slipped into the night.

Three Months Later

Randie rolled over and cuddled up against the warm, hard body next to her. His familiar scent invaded her senses, making her hungry for morning sex. She’d learned loving in the morning was as nice as loving in the afternoon. Which was as nice as loving at night. She delighted in each new sexual adventure as much as she did learning more about the incredible man who had saved her life and become both her husband and her heart mate. She sensed he was awake in the purposeful way his hand slid up her belly and cupped her breast. “Good morning, Mrs. Chase.” Randie smiled into the darkness and arched into him. His soft hair brushed her shoulder, and his warm mouth closed over her nipple. Randie moaned at the sensation. “Good morning, Mr. Chase.” She eased onto her back, and Aidan’s leg snaked over hers. The pressure of his mouth increased, and his teeth razed her nipple with an exquisite burn that made her body come to life. Lightning-fast smatterings of tingles raced hither and fro, across her arms and legs, over her back, into her scalp. Her dreams had come true. She lived a new life now, felt like a new person. Every day waking up next to Aidan was a wonderful one. He kissed a path over her body while curious fingers roamed lower, lower, lower. Randie parted her legs on a sigh and welcomed the digit probing for entrance by rolling her hips. The satisfied sound he returned told her he’d found her wet and ready. She could attribute that to the sensual dreams she’d had of running with him and rutting in wolf form. They’d done

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that a few times, and while she enjoyed the freedom and wildness of it, there was no substitution for naughty play in human form. The idea that she could have him anytime she wanted him, in any form, made her giddy with delight. My mate. He shifted on top of her, watching her with those enchanting blue eyes. “Take me again this morning, sweet?” he whispered. “Always.” She would never deny him. He pushed inside, a hot, thick mass stretching her magnificently. Exquisite heat unfurled in her pussy as his solid shaft filled her as deeply as she could take. He was big and always so hard, but she loved accepting him. Once his cock was seated, he gently requested more with a series of firm little nudges. Randie opened her legs wider and shifted her hips beneath him, loving how she could feel him touching the inside of her body in so many places. All at once he withdrew his cock nearly all the way and thrust deep again, sliding through the slickness that gave him complete control over her pussy. Her cry of “Oh, yes” was little more than a whimper, but he took the cue and repeated the motion faster. He bucked his hips, bringing slick sounds from the wetness coating them both. Heat blossomed deep inside her, and Randie reached toward the pinnacle. She loved each climax that shattered her as much as she loved taking Aidan’s pleasure inside herself, and most of all she loved that they always climaxed at the same time. He’d explained they would always come together because they were mated, just as she would become pregnant when they were both ready. Until then, she was content to let him fuck her into oblivion. And oblivion was what she was feeling now. As she came back down to earth, she realized she was clawing scratch marks into his buttocks. The combined heat of their bodies left them both sweating but strangely was not uncomfortable. She blinked, bringing the ceiling back into focus. “Wow.”

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Aidan laughed, reminding her his long cock was still inside her. His laughter faded, and he kissed her softly. “Much more than wow.” “You’re so good to me.” “It isn’t too much?” She dragged a hand over the curve of his biceps. “Never too much.” Aidan eased out of her gently. “Remember you said that.” He slipped into his boxers and crossed the room to pick up his phone. “There’s a message from the council leader, Jeremiah Lindon.” Randie sat up as he listened to the voice mail. Morning light slipped in through the curtains, gilding his body in amber and making tiny hairs glow. Lord, he was a beautiful man. “They want a video conference”—he glanced at the clock—“in ten minutes.” “Hop in the shower. I’ll go make some coffee.” She threw back the covers. “They want both of us.” This stopped her. A thrill of worry raced through her. “With me included?” What would the Council of Elders want with her? From what Aidan had told her, they had the power to veto a mating. Had they decided she wasn’t a good match for him? Aidan grinned, raking over her nakedness with a lustful gaze. “Not like that. Get dressed. I’ll turn on the computer.” She hurried to rifle through the few clothes she’d brought to their new Washington cabin. Most of her currently clean clothes were Dolly’s Bar and Grill T-shirts. Carol Ann and Sandra had been thrilled to have her back and relieved she was safe after her strange disappearance. And when she told them she and Aidan were married, both were overjoyed. She settled for a long sweater she could let hang over her jeans and quickly brushed her hair into a ponytail. Her wispy bangs were somewhat bent from sleep, but they would have to do. The computer was already beeping, signaling an incoming call on the video program.

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She plunked down on the chair next to Aidan just as the program displayed two windows. In the first was a pale older man she’d met in person at a restaurant near Aidan’s New York flat. It was required by their laws that, as a new werewolf, she be presented to the elders. They had been polite and welcoming, but she longed to know what they truly thought of her. In the second window, Faulkner appeared, seated beside a beautiful and sophisticated woman wearing a black dress and jewels Randie recognized as very expensive. “Good morning, and congratulations on your nuptials, Mr. and Mrs. Chase. You’re looking rather…refreshed.” “Good morning, Mr. Lindon.” Heat stung her cheeks. Was it that obvious? She squeezed Aidan’s hand when Faulkner leaned toward his computer and greeted them. It was the first they’d seen him since he walked out of her father’s house three months ago. They’d sent an invitation to their modest wedding in Key West to his last known address. He hadn’t attended, but they knew he received it because he sent flowers to their hotel. “Mrs. Chase, you mentioned dispersing your late father’s funds in the form of donations.” Her stomach dropped. This was about her. “Yes. I’m working with a lawyer to donate the funds to charitable organizations. Mostly to children’s hospitals, women’s shelters, and for the rescue and care of abandoned animals.” “That’s a noble endeavor. We have a proposition for you. Faulkner can give you more details, but in short we’re creating an organization dedicated to the enforcement of laws within our society, and also to the protection of humans from rogue werewolves. With your experience at the hands of such individuals, we thought you might be interested in learning more.” “Oh yes, definitely,” she answered without hesitation. “While the agency will be governed under the CIA, much of it will be funded by donations.” “I see.” “And to be clear, we want more than a financial contribution. We want you two as agents.” “Us?” She glanced at Aidan. “Me?”

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“Yes, Mrs. Chase. It was Faulkner’s recommendation we approach you both with job offers. You displayed a cool head and made rational decisions in what some might have found a very traumatic event. First discovering you were being tracked by a professional, and then discovering that professional was a werewolf.” The councilman paused to smile. “And of course all that horrible business with your late father, not to mention your own kidnapping by a band of exactly the kinds of criminals we hope to stop.” She nodded. Such an opportunity was a fantasy she’d never dared entertain. In her father’s attempts to keep her sheltered, he’d certainly never encouraged her to have a career, and she’d never felt very useful. In the council’s offer she not only found a great cause to dedicate herself to, but she loved that they saw her as capable. “If I can do anything to prevent someone from going through what I did, of course I’ll help.” “And Aidan, your handling of Randie’s situation is why I couldn’t agree with Faulkner more. Romantic intentions aside, you put a case on hold to investigate, and ultimately pursue, the right from the wrong of it. That’s what we’re looking for in our agents.” “I see.” “What you both went through is a good example of what you’ll face. Simply put, the organization fights crime and pursues criminals in the werewolf world.” “I have a job already, sir.” She sensed Aidan was uncomfortable because he was worried about her, not because he wanted to refuse. “And we’re aware you make a nice salary. We aren’t asking you to give that up. As an agent with our organization, you’ll only be dispatched on highly classified assignments a few times a year. I won’t lie to you; the work will be dangerous.” The beautiful woman seated beside Faulkner spoke. “Of course there will be necessary training for Mrs. Chase. Firearms, hand-to-hand combat, evasive driving—” “Lock-picking and pickpocketing,” Faulkner cut in with a grin. “—but Faulkner tells me you’re quite fit. It won’t be anything you can’t handle.” “I think it sounds exciting,” Randie said. She looked at Aidan. “I want to do it.”

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He placed his arm around her shoulders. “I’m always available to the council. You can count on us, Jeremiah.” “Excellent.” The councilman sat back in his chair. “I knew you’d make the right choice.” Faulkner grinned at them through the camera, and the woman beside him was smiling too. “Welcome to the League of Lycans.”

Loose Id Titles by Crystal Kauffman Comes the Wolf

*** The GUARDIAN’S REALM Series The Combat The Collision The Clash

Crystal Kauffman Crystal Kauffman has been a closet erotica writer since high school. Her mother found one of her works and dealt a heavy dose of guilt as punishment, but that wasn’t enough to stop Crystal from writing (and reading) the steamy stuff. She just did a better job of hiding her work. Then the greatest thing happened; publishing houses catering specifically to erotica were born, bringing Crystal out of the closet. The formation of Romance Writers of America’s Passionate Ink chapter, where she could mingle with other like-minded erotica writers, was the proverbial icing on the cake. Crystal Kauffman is a native San Franciscan who also writes action thrillers. She is a fourtime nominee for the prestigious Golden Heart award given by the Romance Writers of America, and took home the win in 2008. See what’s new at http://www.crystalkauffman.com