The intruder was a werewolf, not a regular lupus, and in ordinary circumstances he would have been reassured by that fact. A real wolf watching a cabin might have spelled danger for the occupant, but the presence of another Lycan—while annoying—shouldn’t have been a problem. However, these weren’t ordinary circumstances.
With one last glance in the direction of the cabin, he manipulated the energy around him and shifted into his wolf form. He took no time to enjoy the sensation of shifting, merely giving his fur a shake before getting down to business. Clinging to the shadows, he carefully circled the cabin, sniffing the air for evidence. A few tufts of dark hair were caught on a bramble and several sets of wolf tracks, some freshly made, could be seen in the still damp soil. Other tracks, more protected from the elements by the thick pine branches overhead, were several days old. Yep, the shifter had been watching the cabin for some time and—he sniffed the ground once more—it was rogue just as he’d suspected. His hackles rose, and a growl rumbled in his throat at the knowledge of what could have happened to Eve if she’d blundered upon the creature.
Lifting his head, Rafe scanned the area. The ground rose from the edge of the small lake becoming gently rolling hills covered in dense stands of trees. Moss encrusted rocks jutted out here and there hiding entrances to dens and burrows. Small gullies, filled with water from the spring thaw, created temporary ponds that drained into a meandering stream. There were any number of places for a rogue to hide, and the game would provide a plentiful food source. It made sense that a transient werewolf would stop here for a while. But why was it watching the cabin? Several possibilities came to mind, none of them comforting. Rogues were notoriously unstable. Sniffing the ground again, he puzzled over the scent; there was an element of danger but something else as well.
Muttering with annoyance, Rafe finished checking the area and then shifted back to his human form. The rogue was well away from the area right now but would it return? He rubbed his chin, debating the wisdom of immediately tracking the creature before deciding against it. His professional judgement as someone trained in dealing with rogues, came to the foreground. Know what you’re dealing with, wasn’t that what he constantly drilled into the heads of his staff at the Rehab Clinic? Some research was needed first.
Pulling out his cell phone—he was pleasantly surprised he’d remembered to put it in his pocket—he called his secretary. “Annette?”
“Dr. McRae! I wasn’t expecting to hear from you. Is anything wrong?” He could imagine the woman immediately accessing his files on her computer, ready to respond to his slightest request. Annette was a paragon and he often wondered how he’d ever manage without her.
“No, nothing is wrong. At least I hope not. Can you pull up the list of rogues that are known to be in this area and send them to me along with a brief bio for each?”
“Of course. Any particular reason?” Her voice took on a chiding tone. “You know you’re supposed to be resting.”
Rafe grinned, hearing the woman’s motherly concern. She wasn’t that much older than him, but was the kind of female who took everyone under her wing. That was one of the qualities that made her such an asset at the clinic. When a rogue reached the final recovery stages, Annette was always there for them, helping them search for a suitable pack, preparing any needed paperwork.
“Yes, I’m resting. The only thing I’ve done is one follow-up visit and it couldn’t be avoided, so don’t start fussing. It’s simply curiosity on my part. I think a rogue might be in my area and I was just wondering who it might be.”
“Do you want me to contact Rogue Retrieval? They can send someone out. You know shouldn’t be thinking about work at all. We were all so worried about you last—”
He cut her off before she could finish. “Annette, if I thought it was a dangerous rogue, I’d follow protocol, you know that. All I need is a bit of information.” Sometimes the woman’s fussing was annoying, but she meant well and it was nice to know his team cared.
“All right. If you’re sure…” Her voice trailed off as if she had doubts about the wisdom of this course of action but then gave a resigned sigh. “It’s almost the weekend but I’ll do my best to get the latest list and send it to you before I leave tonight.”
“Thanks, Annette. You’re a gem.”
“I know.” She hung up and Rafe chuckled softly. The woman was a bit too brassy at times, but she was damned good at her job.
He put his phone back in his pocket and headed towards Eve’s cabin. Once he had some more definite information, then he’d know what steps to take. With any luck, the rogue wouldn’t be too difficult to deal with but, just in case, he’d better take steps to ensure Eve’s safety.
As soon as he stepped into the clearing, she was out of the cabin. He was pleased to note that she didn’t step a foot off the porch, though. Did she even realize she was still obeying his command? Probably not.
“Well? Did you find the wolf?” There was a hint of anxiety in her voice. He fought the instinctive urge to walk over to her and wrap her in his arms, offering comfort and reassurance. She was such a tiny thing, it would be easy to pick her up. Instead he stopped beside his truck.
“The wolf? No. But I did find evidence that one’s been around. I’ll stay while you pack your things and then follow you into town.” He gestured with his head for her to go inside.
To his surprise, she continued to stand there. “Why am I packing?”
“Because you’re leaving. You can’t stay here with a wolf in the vicinity. Until I know it’s out of the area, you need to vacate the premises.”
“You expect me to just leave?” She gave him an incredulous look and planted her hands on her hips.
“Yep.” He folded his arms and leaned against the side of the truck waiting for her to comply.
“And go where?”
“Home?” He didn’t try to keep the hope out of his voice.
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “My apartment is sublet for the next four months. I can’t go back to Calgary.”
“Then rent another place.” He shrugged his shoulders. The solution sounded simple enough.
“I don’t have any spare cash. I paid you in advance, remember? Unless you’re prepared to give me an immediate refund.” She raised her brows and looked at him expectantly.
Rafe rubbed his neck; he’d already spent most of the money on building supplies to repair the other cabins. “Well, there’s the motel in town...” He frowned, recalling an important point. “Except Wilf is renovating it.”
“Do you have another cabin? Closer to town perhaps? If the wolf likes this one, I could move to another one.”
He shook his head. “This is the only one that’s truly habitable, the others still need repairs.”
“Oh.”
Against his better judgement, he offered the only possible solution. “I suppose you could stay with me for a while. There’s a spare room.” Even as he spoke the words, he mentally grimaced. While the oversized log house he presently called home was spacious enough, having her around was definitely not a good idea. He’d have to keep his guard up day and night. The stress was definitely not what he needed right now.
“I don’t think so!” The appalled look on her face stung his ego for some reason.
“Why not?”
She clamped her mouth shut and folded her arms. A faint look of hurt marred her features. “Because.”
He raised his brows and stared at her, waiting for her to explain further.
Finally she gave an exasperated sigh. “You don’t like me.”
He took a deep breath and prayed for patience. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to. I can tell. You always look grumpy when I’m around.”
“I don’t—” Rafe stopped midsentence. He wasn’t grumpy, just reserved, trying to keep a distance between them so he didn’t do something foolish. However, that could be how she perceived it. And really, having her stay with him wouldn’t work. Why
he’d proposed the idea, he wasn’t even sure. “So, what do you suggest?”
She frowned then brightened. “I’ll get a gun.”
“A gun?” Fear spiked through him at the idea of this little will-o-the-wisp holding a firearm.
“A gun. You know, a metal thingy that shoots bullets. Bang. Bang.” She mimed holding a gun with her hand, firing it in his direction. He wondered if she was imagining shooting him, and decided it was more than likely.
“No. No gun. This area’s posted as a no hunting zone.”
“I won’t be hunting, just protecting myself.”
He barely suppressed a growl at her logic. It made sense though. Even a rogue would take heed of a shotgun pointed at its head. And with any luck, he’d have the creature out of his territory within a day or two. It wasn’t an ideal solution, but if she stayed inside the cabin...
“Okay.” Rafe went to his truck and reached behind the seat. Unlocking the storage container, he pulled out a shotgun, removed the trigger lock and then grabbed some ammunition. Striding over to where Eve stood, he looked at her doubtfully. “You ever use one of these?”
“Well, gee...” She fluttered her hands and he rolled his eyes.
“You hold it like this.” He demonstrated and then handed it to her.
Eve picked it up and held it clumsily. Rafe shook his head and moved to stand behind her. God, she was so tiny compared to him he was sure he could snap her in two. Carefully, he encircled her with his arms, moving her hands into the proper position. He could feel the warmth of her body against his chest, and when he inhaled her light floral scent filled his nostrils. His eyelids drooped and his body hardened in response. Obviously, he’d been celibate too long.
Clearing his throat, he carefully shifted his hips away. “Like this. Got it?”
She tilted her head to look up at him and at such close range he could see faint specks of grey in her light blue eyes. Her lashes were long too, and a few freckles adorned the bridge of her pert nose. He lowered his gaze to her mouth and saw the tip of her tongue wet her full lower lip.
“Yeah, I think I’ve got it.”
He gave a start when she spoke and quickly released her; stepping back he hoped she hadn’t noticed how intently he’d been studying her.
Eve adjusted her stance, tested the weight of the weapon in her hand and then raised it into firing position with practised ease. Rafe narrowed his eyes, suddenly suspicious.
“See the knot in that tree?” Without waiting for his answer, she gently compressed the trigger, hit her target and then returned the gun to him. “Skeet shooting.” She murmured the explanation with a sweet, innocent expression on her face.
Rafe shot his gaze from Eve to the tree and back again. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch at how she’d suckered him in with her helpless female act. “I was being condescending. Point taken.” He extended the weapon towards her but when she would have taken it he held on. “You only use this if the...wolf...threatens you. And you fire a warning shot first. Injuring it is a last resort, understood?”
He waited for her to nod her compliance before releasing his grip.
“So...if this is a no hunting zone, why do you have a gun with you?” She leaned against the column that supported the porch roof and quirked an eyebrow at him, the gun cradled in her arms.
He could hardly tell her that as a Lycan he had absolutely no use for a gun. That it was all part of his ‘costume’ as he attempted to look like a human, outdoorsman type so the locals wouldn’t question why a doctor was taking over a set of fishing cabins.
“Same reason you have one now. Just in case.” With that he turned on his heel and walked to his truck. Before getting in, he called out to her. “I’ll be back tomorrow to scout the area again. Don’t go wandering around outside until I can be sure the wolf’s out of the area.”
As he got in the truck and drove away, he was sure she saluted him. Brat!
Chapter 3
The wolf circled back towards the cabin following the same path he’d used every day that week. In the past months he’d travelled almost constantly, crisscrossing the continent, never staying in one place longer than necessary. There was a method to his apparently random roaming though it was doubtful anyone would understand. Presently, he was moving westward, tirelessly following a trail that tracked across the continent. Rage and hatred fuelled him, spurring him onward when others might have given up.
He’d spent the past week surveying the area, noting the vantage points, studying the inhabitants. When the time came to act, he’d be prepared. His arrival back at the cabin was part of his daily routine. The woman who lived there was his obsession.
For almost a week now, he’d been watching her, taking note of her comings and goings, studying her habits. When he’d first set eyes upon her, he’d been shocked. While her hair was the wrong colour, her build, her facial features, even the lilt of her voice, were all hauntingly familiar. Months of pain and loneliness had fallen away and for one heart-stopping moment he’d thought his Beth had returned. Of course, it was just wishful thinking. His mate was dead, but even acknowledging that harsh fact didn’t stop the woman from stirring bittersweet memories within him.
His wolf found it hard to comprehend. It kept trying to reactivate the blood bond he’d shared with Beth, sending out thoughts and messages in an attempt to make contact with this look-a-like female. A pointless activity, but the creature wouldn’t listen. It seldom did anymore. They might occupy the same body but that was it. Interactions with the beast were more like a cold war.
Damien approached the cabin wanting one more glimpse of her before night fell. His steps were silent as he wove his way through the thick trees; his gait smooth to all but the most discerning of eyes. Showing weakness was never a good thing, so he’d trained himself to hide the slight limp caused by his right hind leg. Third degree burns had caused the muscles to shorten, the faint ache at night a constant reminder of all he’d lost in his life. For the briefest of moments he relived the fiery scene—how the pain of the burning timbers landing on him had barely equalled the pain in his heart—then he shook his head and concentrated on the present.
Would the woman be outside, sitting on the porch with her chin propped in her hand, staring unseeingly at the woods or the lake as she daydreamed? Or perhaps she’d be inside painting or drawing as she often did for hours at a time. Earlier in the day, she’d caught sight of him. Across the small clearing their gazes had met and something about her expression had caused him to flash back to the first time he’d seen his Beth.
Half hidden behind a tree, Beth had been watching the full-moon festivities, a look of longing in her eyes. The other weres had been shifting, preparing for a run, but no one had appeared to notice her standing to the side. He’d almost missed her himself, her colouring and stillness allowing her to blend into the background. But something, some fate, had caused him to glance her way and then start a conversation.
She’d announced she was a half-breed, having only recently discovered the fact when helping her mother pack for a move. For some reason, her family had kept her true nature hidden from her and now she was full of questions, eager to learn of her heritage and participate in pack life. Her mother’s old Alpha had allowed her to join, but her reception by the rest had been cool.
“No one’s even bothered to tell me how to shift.” Tears had glistened on her lashes as she expressed her frustration.
Of course, as a half, raised in a human culture, she’d missed the Inclusion ceremony. She’d had no idea that a transfer of at least two body fluids was needed to activate her latent werewolf genetics. An infant would have been exposed to breast milk and a small amount of the Alpha’s blood, but she was too old for that.
Damien smiled at the memory of how she’d blushed when he explained straight faced that adult halves usually had sex, exchanging saliva and semen in order to initiate the change. Her face had gone bright red in embarrassment and for a moment she’d floundered, o
bviously unsure of how to respond. Just as he’d been about to take pity on her and say that blood and saliva would also work, she’d taken him aback, by boldly asked him to do the job! It was then that he’d started to fall in love with her.
He hadn’t gone on the run that night. Instead, he’d sat beside her in the shadows, backs propped against the trunk of an ancient tree as they talked. The topics had been varied; werewolves and movies, politics and favourite foods. By the time the moon had arced across the sky, she’d been nestled against him, their hands intertwined. She’d been his soul-mate.
His reminiscing halted abruptly. A scent hit him as he approached the cabin causing him to freeze in place. He flared his nostrils and his hackles rose. Another werewolf had been here. Instinctively, he went on the defensive, taking a step back and scanning the surrounding area. If his time as a rogue had taught him anything, it was that his kind were seldom welcome.
The woods were silent save the occasional bird call and the scrambling sound of a chipmunk running up a tree. Through a break in the foliage he could see the woman inside the cabin. She was near the kitchen window and seemed to be preparing a meal. With night approaching she wouldn’t be stepping outside again if she stayed true to her usual routine.
He twitched his ears and raised his head to sample the air again before slowly allowing himself to relax. Apparently the other wolf had left the area for the time being. Hunkering down, he considered his options. Another werewolf in the area would complicate things and common sense was urging him to leave, yet it galled him to abandon his plan. Being cautious would gain him nothing; too much had been lost already. A compromise was the best he could manage.
Betrayed: Days of the Rogue Page 4