Wolf Shield Investigations: Boxset

by Dee Bridgnorth

  He sat the unconscious man up, then hefted him onto his shoulder. “Bring the backpack,” he ordered, carrying the man to the truck. Hadn’t he just done something like this? Carrying an unconscious person to his truck, throwing them in the back without caring very much for their comfort?

  Yes, and now he trusted that original passenger whose comfort he hadn’t cared about.

  But something about that felt off. Like he shouldn’t trust her. The wolf tried to call out to him, warning him, desperate to make him understand. There were too many things to think about, too many potential hazards to avoid.

  “You didn’t leave anything behind?” he asked as they climbed into the truck.

  “No. Nothing.” She reeked of smoke, was still coughing, but she was alive. That was something, anyway.

  He peeled out of the driveway, away from the house, tearing down the street and around the corner. They were well into the woods by the time the sound of sirens reached him. He let out a long sigh before dialing Logan.

  “We got out okay. And we have another passenger.”

  “Another one?”

  “He was still setting fires across the street,” Zane explained, glancing over his shoulder at the unconscious man sprawled across the backseat.

  “Son of a bitch,” Logan muttered.

  “What’s your call?” Zane asked. He hadn’t thought much past getting the guy away from the house, into the truck, then getting away from the scene before firefighters arrived. He didn’t feel like answering any questions, such as why he’d been in an otherwise empty housing development in the first place.

  “Well, you can’t take him to Marnie’s house. And I doubt taking him to headquarters would be a great idea.”

  “Right,” he growled.

  “What about my apartment?” Aimee asked.

  “No way. They’re bound to know where you live.”

  “I don’t see how. I never provided my address, and they never asked for it.”

  “That doesn’t mean they didn’t do research on you,” Logan reminded her in a far gentler tone than the one Zane felt like using. The woman was supposed to be an expert, yet she was still able to come up with something as stupid as that. As if they wouldn’t be able to track her to her own apartment.

  That was when it hit him.

  What was wrong about all of this.

  “Logan, I’ll call you back.” Zane pulled off the road, into the woods, and killed the engine and lights.

  Aimee turned to him, surprised. “What are you doing?”

  He turned to her, unbuckling his belt as he did. He wanted to ensure he had as much freedom of movement as possible just in case this went south. Would it? There would be no way of knowing until he asked the question now burning a hole in his brain.

  “How did he know where to find you?” he whispered.

  She blinked rapidly. “I don’t understand.”

  “You told me, you swore, that you didn’t tell them where the safe house was located. That you went there to warn Marnie, to tell her to get out. You didn’t report back to your bosses or whoever where the house was located. That’s what you said, isn’t it?”

  Now she got it. He could hear her heart pounding. “I don’t know. I swear, I don’t! I never told them. I don’t know how they found us.”

  “You’re lying.” He leaned in, wishing he could shift then and there and tear her limb from limb. He’d started to trust her. He’d started to feel things for her. And now, this. “You’ve been lying to me all along.”

  She had no idea who she’d crossed.

  Chapter Twenty

  This couldn’t be happening. Just when she thought they’d come so far.

  For the first time since crashing the SUV and begging for help, Aimee was sure she was in grave danger, life-or-death danger like any moment could be her last.

  She pressed herself against the door, like that would do any good. There was so much of him; he was so big and so scary. Yes, scary and threatening like an animal about to lose control. There was no telling what an animal would do once it lost control of itself.

  Just one glance at the man in the back seat reminded her of this. He was burly and clearly skilled if he’d been hired by her former bosses. Somehow, Zane had overpowered him without even breaking a sweat. What could he do to her?

  There had to be a way to get through to him before he crossed the point of no return and really lost leave of his senses. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck and the stench of smoke nearly choked her, but she pushed all of that aside in favor of speaking to him firmly, calmly. “I’m telling you, Zane. Listen to me. I never told them. They could have found out some other way.”

  “Bullshit. That location has been secret for years with more layers of protection around it than I can even describe right now. But somehow, they found you. They knew you were there.”

  “But they didn’t know which house I was in! Doesn’t that count for something? It’s obvious he was setting all the houses on fire because he figured I was in one of them. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

  “It doesn’t mean anything. You told them all the houses were empty. They knew there was no one else there. Just like you said back there before I went outside: he was trying to flush us out. Not to burn us to death, but to draw us out into the open because who sits inside and watches a house burning, right? A house so close to them? He expected us to panic, to run outside.”

  He unlocked his door. “Wait here,” he warned. “Don’t even think about leaving this truck. I’ll find you. You can count on it.”

  She froze in terror. Like she’d venture out into the woods, pitch-black, no moon in the sky. Though she did have to wonder just how he thought he’d find her if she ran. Was he that good of a tracker?

  Again, she glanced back to the unconscious man. “Damn you,” she whispered, wishing her voice wouldn’t tremble when she said it. “Damn all of you.”

  Zane was back in a flash, carrying the backpack he’d tossed behind the back seat before leaving the house. “Yeah. Just like I thought.”

  “What?”

  “A few clips. I disarmed him; his pistol’s in my waistband. He had enough ammo in here to turn us both into Swiss cheese, and there are more of those devices he used to set the fires.”

  He looked from the contents of the pack to her, his eyes blazing like they were on fire, too. “Tell me again how you didn’t tell them where the house was. He was prepared to take us both out—this wasn’t a whim, a theory. He was acting on real intel.”

  “I’m telling you. I don’t know! I didn’t tell them. By the time I found the house when Marnie turned on her computer, I already knew there was something wrong. I’d looked into her, like I said, after the crash. I knew there was nothing those girls could’ve done that would make it okay to kill them. I swear, Zane. Please. You’ve gotta believe me.”

  “I don’t have to do anything,” he snarled, making her flinch back. The handle to the door was just behind her elbow—she could reach it in a flash, but he’d locked the doors from his controls. Instinct told her there was no way of getting around that unless she managed to reach over him and flip the switch.

  He wouldn’t give her the chance. She knew it. They were in a tight space with little room to move freely, and he was too strong, too agile.

  And he was on the alert. He wasn’t about to let her get away with anything. They were back to being hostile strangers again except it wasn’t her fault. She had to make him see this wasn’t her fault.

  “Wake him up!” she begged. “Yeah. He’ll tell you, I’m sure of it. He’ll explain how he knew where to find me. Please, Zane. Please.”

  “Shut up with the pleading,” he warned. The sound of his voice was enough to make the hair on the back of her neck stand straight up.

  But she couldn’t stop. “No, I won’t. I need you to listen. Remember what we said back there? They violated us both. Neither of us asked for this. I didn’t ask for this. Please, Zane.” Tears
streamed down her cheeks—it was a surprise when they dripped off her jaw onto her shirt. She didn’t even know she was crying until then.

  Normally, the very fact that she’d broken down and wept in front of him would curdle her blood. But not now. There was no room for that now. He had to see her for who she was.

  And who was she? She was scared. Alone. Adrift. And until only a few minutes ago, she’d felt like she might have a friend—at least, someone to help her navigate what was impossible to navigate on her own.

  He’d left her reeling, alone again, with nothing to hold onto. How could she make him understand that?

  How could she even understand it herself?

  “Listen, please. If I didn’t want him to tell you the truth, why would I be begging you to talk to him and get answers? I’d want him dead, right? I’d want to shut him up, but I don’t. I want him to talk. Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

  “You’ll only find a way to warn him,” he growled.

  “No,” she insisted. It was like talking to a brick wall. A brick wall she suspected—no, was certain—wanted to kill her.

  After all that tenderness, all that desire. They might as well have erased those breathless, thrilling moments. They didn’t exist anymore.

  “I won’t say a word. I won’t even look at him! I swear to God, Zane. I mean every word of this. I didn’t tell them where to find me. I’m on your side. I’ve been on your side this entire time. Jesus, I’ll tell you everything you wanna know. Everything. Who did what. I don’t care anymore. I just want this to be over.”

  She quaked from the truth in that statement, from how much she meant it. It was as honest and real a thing as she’d spoken in her adult life. There was no way for him to truly appreciate what it meant for her to say those words.

  And there was no way for her to make him care. “Yeah, you and me both,” he growled before turning to the man behind them. “Hey. Hey! Wake up. If you aren’t already awake.”

  Nothing. No movement. Zane glanced her way, his lip curled in a snarl. “Face front. Don’t even look at him.”

  She wasn’t about to argue—and the very fact that it seemed like he was trying to at least do what she’d begged him to do sealed her mouth shut anyway. She wouldn’t do or say anything to ruin this.

  Because she was telling the truth, and he would see it.

  “I said, wake up!”

  Aimee cringed when the man cried out in pain. Whatever Zane had done to him, it had brought him around in a hurry. “Where? Where is he?” The guy was scared out of his mind, practically babbling. His breathing was raspy, sharp, the way a person breathed when they were under true duress.

  It was clear Zane couldn’t have cared less. “What are you talking about? Where’s who?”

  “The wolf! Where’s the wolf? Please, you gotta help me!”

  Aimee looked at Zane from the corner of her eye, not daring to move her head. What was this guy talking about? The wolf? He was half out of his mind. Suddenly, she didn’t like her chances very much. He wasn’t talking sense, and Zane might not believe him because of that.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zane growled. “Now don’t talk until you’re spoken to. Understand? I have some questions.”

  “Where am I?” the man asked before crying out like he had before. Aimee didn’t wince this time.

  “What part of stop talking didn’t you understand? You are only allowed to speak in answer to a question. First question: why were you setting those fires?”

  He was a skilled interrogator. He was already doing a better job than he had with her too. Rather than provide information—like assuming this guy had anything to do with the people Aimee had worked for—he’d started from the beginning.

  “They told me to. Please, don’t hurt me. They told me to do it.” Good God, he was weeping. Aimee looked at Zane again and found him glaring at the arsonist. Sure, it was better that way. The guy had to see he meant business.

  But Aimee had to wonder if this man was telling the truth. She was under the impression that the people she worked for only worked with the best. People who wouldn’t crack this easily.

  Hell, it was almost insulting.

  “Who told you to do it?”

  “The people I work for! They told me. I’ll tell you everything I know about them, only please don’t let him get to me again.”

  Was he on drugs? Hallucinating? Whatever it was, he was losing credibility—with both of them since her heart sank further and further with every word he blurted out through whimpering and tears.

  “I think you inhaled a little too much smoke back there,” Zane muttered. “Who are these people? Where can we find them?”

  “I don’t know where they are. They contact me when they have a job for me. That’s it.”

  “And what did they tell you about this job?”

  “They told me to set fire to those houses. That a girl would come out. That I had to look for her.”

  “And what were you supposed to do to her?”

  A pause. Aimee closed her eyes, pressed her lips together. She knew what she was about to hear—it wasn’t like her feelings would be hurt; it wasn’t like she would be surprised. But there was something about hearing it, just the same.

  “I was supposed to take her out. Her and anybody else with her. Okay? That enough for you?”

  “One more thing.” Zane looked to her, and she fought with all her might against moving. She couldn’t move, wouldn’t. She wouldn’t do anything to ruin this. “Did they tell you how they found her? Do you know anything about that?”

  “Man, I was just trying to do a job—”

  “Answer the question,” Zane snapped, and Aimee cringed away from him even though she wasn’t the one he was talking to. It was like he had turned into somebody else, something else. Something scary, something big and explosive. She bit her tongue against a yelp of terror, knowing he’d hate hearing her react that way. It would only anger him more.

  “It’s in my pack, okay? They gave me some kind of tracker to use on her. And if she got away, I could find her using it.”

  She stared straight ahead just as she’d been before, but now she didn’t see anything. It all went fuzzy, her eyes going unfocused as what this perfect stranger had just announced washed over her.

  A tracking device?

  Zane turned to her, touched her shoulder. “What’s he talking about?”

  “Do I look like I have any idea?” She turned her head to the side, staring at him. “This is news to me.”

  “How could they track her?” Zane asked, while his hands ran over everything in the backpack.

  “I don’t know. She’s gotta have something on her. They didn’t tell me that much. Just that I’d be able to find her using that.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

  “Out of the car.” He meant her; she knew it. She did as she was told, too surprised to react differently. They were tracking her? They knew where she was all along?

  Zane stood in front of her, practically pinning her to the vehicle. He stank of smoke, too, and sweat. Damned if it didn’t somehow make him even more alluring. “Tell me the truth. Do you know what he means?”

  “I’m telling you I have no idea. God, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “Don’t you dare,” he barked, and she snapped to attention. There was no other way to react when he got that tone in his voice. He took a step back, running his hands through his hair, holding his head like it hurt.

  “Are you all right? Were you injured?” She couldn’t believe she actually cared after the way he treated her, but there was no going back on having opened her heart to him even a little bit. It wasn’t that easy.

  He shot her a filthy look that sealed her mouth shut. “Don’t try to change the subject. I need to figure this out. You swear you don’t have any idea.”

  “I really don’t.” Her heart pounded hard enough to make her chest hurt. Was she
having a heart attack? Or was this only the result of panic? Either way, she slumped a little against the truck.

  “Where did your clothes come from?”

  “The store? I bought them myself.”

  “So they had nothing to do with that?”

  “No.”

  “Turn out your pockets.” It was so ridiculous, but she did she was told without arguing. Whatever it took, so long as he saw the truth.

  He grunted before dropping into a crouch. She flinched at the touch of his hands on her calf. “Relax,” he sneered with a glance up at her. “I’m just making sure.”

  Funny how under any other circumstances, this would’ve been sexy. She could see the irony of it, too, considering how she’d just about begged him to touch her this way when she was in bed.

  He was running his hands up her legs now, but with a far different touch than the one she’d craved.

  He worked efficiently without even a hint of what might’ve been earlier if it weren’t for that stupid fire. “You’re clean,” he murmured like he didn’t believe it.

  “I know.”

  He stood, brushing his hands together with a sigh. “Short of performing a cavity search, I don’t know what else to do.”

  “No, thank you,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around herself. It was cool out here in the woods, cool enough to turn the perspiration on her skin to ice.

  He looked over her shoulder, into the truck. The man inside had been quiet all through this ordeal. “Either he’s lying, or I don’t know what.”

  “Turn on the device they gave him. Maybe it was all a bunch of crap. Maybe it won’t even work.”

  He sighed, his eyes closing for a second. “What happens if it sets off some other reaction?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug. “But whatever it is they’re using to track me, nothing’s happened so far. He found me, meaning the thing must be working—whatever it is.” It was like being in a nightmare, a nightmare she never could’ve conceived in her waking moments.