Cry of the Wolf (The Pack Book 5)

by Karen Whiddon

“Don’t.” He took her arm. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. There are lots of trails here and pretty abundant wildlife this time of year.”

  She sighed. “Okay, but I need you to promise me something.”

  “Anything.” He was only half joking.

  “If Leo finds me, use my gun on him if you get the chance. But make sure it’s loaded with silver bullets. Nothing else will work on him.”

  “Silver bullets again. What is he, a vampire?”

  Finally, she smiled. “Wrong species. With vampires it’s stakes through the heart and sunlight.”

  “That’s right.” He snapped his fingers. “Werewolves are the ones that only silver bullets can kill.”

  “Right. And fire. Silver bullets and fire.”

  “Are you saying Leo’s a werewolf?” Still teasing, his grin faded as he realized she was not.

  “I’m saying he’s a monster.” Jewel’s voice trembled. “That’s enough. Just remember what I told you. If you don’t use the silver bullets, you won’t get another chance. He’ll kill you.”

  Though he waited, she didn’t elaborate. He told himself he really didn’t expect her to, after all. She wanted to keep her secrets close and he wouldn’t pry. For now. With time, he wanted to know her inside and out.

  “Come on.” When he gave her arm a little tug, she came willingly. “I think you’ll like what you see. It takes a special kind of person to appreciate this countryside.”

  “Special, huh? All right, show me.”

  He chose his favorite path, the one that meandered up toward the mesa. All went well until they startled a doe and a fawn. Bursting out of a clearing in front of them, the deer flashed past them on a mad run to safety.

  “Oh!” Jewel wrenched from his grasp and, snarling, dropped to all fours. She began to convulse on the dirt path in front of him, growling low in her throat.

  “Jewel!” he told her, going to his knees in front of her and trying to gather her close. “Hang in there. It’s another seizure. You can make it through this.”

  Though no doubt it was due to the effects of the attack, she bared her teeth at him and snarled a warning.

  Ignoring this, he stroked her hair as another violent spasm racked her slender body. “Come on, honey. You’ll be okay. Relax, and it will pass.”

  “Pass?” She gasped, writhing and clawing at the air. “I’m trying to control this, really trying. Damn!”

  “Control this?” His ex had used a similar expression when she’d been struggling against her addiction. “Are you using?”

  “What?” She began to pant, short huffs of breath that reminded him of a woman in labor.

  “Drugs. Are you using drugs?”

  Doubled over, she groaned. “That again. Hell, no. For the last time, I am not on any type of drug. I only wish it were that simple.”

  He held her—and his tongue—as she continued to struggle. Gradually, the tremors subsided and her breathing became normal.

  Supporting her back, he helped her sit up. “Are you all right?”

  “All right?” A single tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m about as far from being all right as I can be.” She buried her head in her hands, shaking. “God help me. I don’t know what to do anymore.” Her enlarged pupils and quickened breathing told him she battled the urgent desire that always plagued her after an episode.

  “Let me help.”

  Firsts clenched, she didn’t look up. “You can’t.” Her breathy voice belied her words and tugged at his own rising need.

  “You’d be surprised.”

  It was a measure of her desperate attempt to maintain control that she didn’t immediately take him up on his offer. Instead, her emerald gaze searched his face, as though trying to discern the hidden meaning of his words, while her chest rose and fell.

  He wanted her to kiss him. Damn it, he craved her passion and her need and her body.

  Forcing himself to hold still, he tried to wait. Surprisingly—or maybe not—he lost his battle for control before she did.

  “Come here,” he growled, slanting his mouth over hers and kissing her hard, the way he knew she needed. She met him halfway, growling low in her throat as she tore at his clothes.

  Cloth tearing didn’t matter. All that mattered was skin, his against hers, hers next to him. When he entered her, she was ready. She met him thrust for thrust, cry for cry.

  When she clenched around him, he cried out her name. Their release came together, building until they shattered.

  After, they held each other without speaking. One heartbeat, two, and he realized he wanted to hold her like that the rest of his life.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly, her face against his chest.

  Flabbergasted, for a moment he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “No, thank you. Jewel, I want us to be together.”

  She went utterly still and, just as he had begun to curse his lack of eloquence, she shifted out of his embrace. She looked down at her hands, then back at his face. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

  “Hey.” He brushed a wayward strand of red hair away from her cheek. “I’m a reporter. I’ve seen just about everything. I’ll take that chance.”

  At the word reporter, her eyes widened. “You can’t report on me, on this.”

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  She moved away again, and he saw she trembled. Had he frightened her? Wanting to soothe, he stroked her arm.

  “Stop,” she said, a hitch in her voice.

  He removed his hand. “What’s wrong?”

  “You’re petting me like I’m an…animal.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “No.” Glancing at him, she gave him a tremulous smile, as though on the verge of tears. “Maybe you instinctively know the truth.”

  “What truth?”

  She took a deep breath. “A relationship with me is not possible.”

  Fear. He understood fear intimately. “Don’t worry. They’ll catch Leo.”

  “It’s not that.”

  Aching to touch her, instead he waited.

  “When I have those…episodes, they’re not seizures.”

  “No?”

  “No. I was trying to change. Into a wolf. I’m a…shifter.”

  “Shifter? I’m not familiar with the term.”

  “Of course you’re not.” Her deep sigh sounded heartfelt. “Sometimes your folklore and legends refer to my kind as werewolves. That’s what I am. Only something’s wrong with me. I try to change into a wolf and can’t. I think Leo did something to me.” She searched his face for a reaction. “If I don’t change soon, I’ll die.”

  Colton swallowed. Whatever he’d expected, it wasn’t this. Still, he could help her. Mental illness, though frightening, was still treatable. He found it odd that she’d shown no sign of this the entire time he’d known her.

  “Are you sure?” he asked, as gently as he could.

  Instead of answering, she lifted her chin, her glorious eyes flat and dead. “You think I’m crazy.”

  “No, I—”

  “Being insane would be much simpler than what I’m dealing with. If I don’t figure out what’s wrong with me soon, and change, then I will be nuts.” Scrabbling to her feet, she swayed slightly. “I’m going about this all wrong. If you want to be with me, you have to know the truth. Worse, if you are going to have a prayer against Leo, you need to know about him.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Leo’s a shifter, too. That’s what makes him even more dangerous. That’s why I have the silver bullets. Only those and fire can kill our kind.”

  He gathered her to him and held her, silently urging her to relax her stiff shoulders. “Jewel, what you’ve told me makes no sense.”

  “Why won’t you believe me?” She pushed him away. “This is the most important thing I’ve ever said to you, and you won’t listen.”

  “Can you blame me for doubting?”

 
“No, I can’t.” With a sigh, she reached out as if to touch him, pulling back at the last moment. “But we don’t have much time. You said you wanted to help. You’ve got to decide whether to take what I say at face value or not. It’s all about trust. Without trust, there can’t be a relationship. Without trust, you might as well go.”

  Jamming his hands in his pockets, he could hear his own heart beating slow and steady while he stared at her. She waited, watching him, her gaze not wild-eyed and crazy, but steady and wary. What could he say? Suddenly he remembered when she’d been convulsing and he’d sworn he’d seen a wolf peering from the maelstrom of colors.

  She believed what she was saying, thus she’d given him honesty to the best of her ability. He could do no less with her.

  “Jewel, let me get you some professional help.”

  “No.” She pushed past him, heading back toward the trailer. “I guess I have your answer.”

  For the space of three heartbeats he let her go. Then, he called after her. “Wait. Please.”

  She never broke stride.

  “Prove it to me,” he shouted, pushed to the limit. “Come on, you can’t blame me for not believing in werewolves. I’ve never seen one. This is all outside my entire realm of experience.”

  This time she stopped. As she slowly turned, her choppy red hair blew in the breeze. “Prove it to you? How?”

  “Change.” Using her own word, he kept his expression serious. “Become a werewolf. Show me.”

  Again her hand went to her neck, to finger a necklace that wasn’t there. “Hellhounds, if I could, I would. But like I just told you, I can’t. I’ve been trying to change. That’s what I was doing when you found me unconscious that first time. When you think I’m having a seizure, it’s my body fighting to change. I can’t.”

  “Was that what you were trying to do a minute ago?”

  “Not on purpose. Actually, I was trying not to. When we saw that deer, my wolf-self…” Her words trailed off. “All right. I’ll try once more. I don’t know how else to prove it to you, except to try.”

  His pulse jumped, his stomach knotted. Ridiculous, unless he seriously thought she…no. At least delusions rarely physically hurt anyone. And maybe a demonstration would make her see she’d let her imagination take too deep of a hold. “Go ahead, try now. Maybe I can help you.”

  “Here?” She glanced around at the rocks and the dirt and the scrabbly, twisted trees bent sideways by the wind. “If I’m successful, stand back. Don’t try to stop me or touch me.”

  He frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because wolves don’t like to be caged. I don’t want to hurt you, even by accident. If I manage to change, I need to run free.”

  “I see.” He studied her damaged beauty and wondered how best to help her. If he’d known she had mental-health issues, he could have gotten her help much sooner. But he hadn’t known.

  Watching him, she folded her arms. Waiting.

  He nodded in encouragement, wondering if he was supposed to give her some sort of signal.

  His nod must have been enough. Still watching him, she dropped to the ground, grimacing before she bowed her head.

  Immediately, a hundred fireflies surrounded her.

  He took another look. No, not fireflies, but sparkles of light, flashing and pulsating in a misty cloud of rainbow color.

  The swirling, vibrant show obscured Jewel from his sight. Behind this, sounds—shuffling, snuffling, a groan.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “Is this another seizure?”

  She didn’t answer. Should he go to her? Try to push through the colors to reach her? What the hell was this? Had he lost his mind?

  He rubbed his eyes. Still the sparkles, the random flecks of light, all colors of the rainbow. As if he were tripping on some bizarre drug.

  “Jewel?” Finally he decided to push away his superstitious fear. He moved in, toward the spot where she’d been. “Are you in there? Answer me.”

  Instead of her voice, he heard a low growl.

  A large dog. Maybe even a…wolf.

  A werewolf?

  No. No way. Not even possible.

  But the hair on the back of his neck warned him. Danger! “Jewel?” Did she need his help?

  No flashing lights were going to keep him from protecting her. He pushed forward, into the cloud of colors, hell-bent on reaching her.

  There, on the ground on all fours, Jewel. But something…Blinking, he moved closer. As he watched, her beautiful face elongated; her nose became a snout. Fur sprouted all over her body, creamy skin becoming something else—the pelt of an animal. Of a beast.

  A wolf.

  He couldn’t believe his eyes. Heart pounding, mouth dry, he croaked out her name. “Jewel?”

  Even as her body contorted and changed, she raised her head to look at him. Tried to speak. Instead, she could only growl again.

  The last remnants of swirling colors vanished.

  So did Jewel. Protected by a screen of magic, her transformation from woman to animal had become complete. Instead of Jewel, a huge, ivory wolf stood where she’d knelt.

  Watching him with her eyes. Jewel.

  Colton reared back. Away. “What the hell?”

  Like everyone else, he’d seen the movies, heard the stories, read the books. Werewolves didn’t exist, except in the fertile imagination of writers and producers.

  Did they?

  Evidence to the contrary, the wolf snuffled, moving closer.

  Telling himself not to run, Colton continued backing away. Though he didn’t sense danger, he couldn’t fathom what had happened. Jewel had…what? Changed into a wolf? Part of him screamed no way and wanted to look for the smoke and mirrors, the hidden cameras.

  Though she’d claimed she could, she couldn’t really have become a wolf. This was reality, not some alternate world in a paranormal novel or pulp horror movie.

  Still, he took a step back.

  The wolf lowered its head, still watching him. Jewel’s beautiful emerald eyes looked exotic in the lupine face.

  No. Not. Possible.

  Yet it was.

  She’d called herself a shifter. She’d tried to tell him the truth.

  Jewel, beautiful, sensuous Jewel, was a werewolf.

  A werewolf? He shook his head, trying to make sense of the illogical.

  There was no such thing. Was there?

  The beast moved closer, still intently focused on him.

  Colton stumbled. Cursing, he righted himself, hoping the wolf wouldn’t attack. Even though he could barely wrap his mind around it, facts were facts. As a seasoned reporter, he could force himself to recognize them, even when the shock of the impossible threatened to make his stomach heave.

  A werewolf. He’d made love—several times—to a werewolf.

  No escaping the truth. She hadn’t been lying. Jewel, his Jewel, the woman he’d been entertaining thoughts of making a permanent part of his life—wasn’t even human.

  Reeling, Colton staggered away, unable to look at the ivory-coated wolf. Either he’d gone crazy or the world had become his own personal twilight zone.

  He knew better than to run, though every instinct screamed it. Instead, he took off at a brisk walk, heading for the untamed hills where other wild animals roamed.

  Maybe if he walked enough, far enough, long enough, hard enough, reality would return.

  Instead, new reality refused to leave him. At first the wolf kept pace with him, skirting the trees as Colton climbed the old hunting path toward the bluff.

  Finally, when he would not acknowledge its presence, the animal veered off, heading toward the wooded area and, most likely, fresh game. Wild pigs and deer inhabited these woods. A feast for an experienced hunter—or a hungry wolf.

  An image flashed in his mind. He saw the ivory wolf bringing down a doe, ripping out its throat, blood dripping from sharp, white teeth.

  Jewel’s teeth.

  No! He groaned. How could he reconcile the woman he’d be
gun to care for with this?

  Chapter 13

  He wandered the hills for hours, unable to face the mess his world had just become. Finally, as the sun began to descend toward the horizon, he headed back for the cabin, weary in body and weary in soul. By now Jewel should had changed back to her human self, so he could talk to her.

  Hopefully, she hadn’t gone. Though part of him wished she had. Confused, shocked and honestly afraid, he didn’t know what he wanted. What he felt. He was no longer certain of anything.

  The thought made him wince.

  She’d told him she had secrets. In a hundred, million years, he’d never imagined they’d be anything like this.

  Yet picturing a future without her was so bleak, he ached when he thought of it.

  He’d done a lot of soul searching and agonizing while walking the land. As a reporter, he was trained to work with facts. Ignorance bred fear. He needed to talk with Jewel, learn more about her species, and try to banish his instinctual terror.

  If he wanted them to have a chance, he had no choice.

  Climbing the path to the mobile home, the first thing he noticed was the blood. The path was tainted by it; huge splatters discolored the grass, the leaves, the dirt. Had Jewel, in her wolf form, killed a deer or pig and brought the carcass here to feast?

  He rather doubted that.

  Heart pounding, he ran for the front door. Crimson stained everything, the ground, the porch and the front door. The knot in his gut twisted.

  “Jewel?” he called, hoping against hope she was here, that she’d answer. On the porch, he slipped, his sneakers sliding in the fresh blood—he turned and raised his voice, calling out over the vast expanse of land. “Jewel?”

  No answer.

  Bracing himself, he entered the house.

  Inside, he found Roy, bound and semiconscious, a baseball bat on the floor beside him. Reba’s warning about Bettina ringing in his ears, Colton crouched beside the man he’d once thought of as his friend.

  Damn.

  Quickly, gently, he removed the ropes and untied the gag, easing it from Roy’s mouth.

  “Water,” Roy croaked, blinking at him.

  He got a glass, helping Roy hold it to his mouth as he greedily gulped. When he paused to take a breath, Colton set the glass on the floor.