The Wolf's Pursuit

by Rachel Van Dyken

  The clock in the hall chimed six. Well, it seemed his honeymoon was already over. He could not have Gwen in danger. He refused to allow anything to touch her. He quickly went into his study and wrote a note to Dominique and Montmouth, letting them know of what had just taken place. As he finished up, he looked down and saw the packet of codes Wilkins had recently given him.

  He lifted the first code to the light and then reached into his desk drawer for the older note, the one Redding had tried to burn, and compared them.

  The first part of the note, where it named the location, was in one code, but the word death was in an entirely different one.

  The same code as on the supposedly old ciphers. Which meant Wilkins had given him entirely new ones? What the devil would he do that for? Why would Wilkins give him packets of new codes, ones that had yet to be seen by anyone, if…

  Suddenly feeling ill, he took a seat as he replayed images of his meetings with Wilkins, his sudden cheerfulness and changed body language, and then finally the last meeting, where he'd given Hunter the ciphers as evidence.

  Why give him new evidence?

  Unless he was planting it.

  He cursed and ran back into the ballroom to wake Gwen.

  The minute he walked into the room, it felt different. Call it a sixth sense, or perhaps insanity or paranoia, but when he reached the fur blankets…

  She was gone.

  And in her place was a note.

  In code.

  Hunter donned his clothes as fast as possible. Knowing he probably looked a wreck, he ran out to the stables and saddled his horse, and made for Lainhart's residence straightaway.

  ****

  A sharp pain inched itself across the back of Gwen's skull. She opened her eyes in confusion. Blurry images stood before her. After blinking a few times, she was able to make out the first person. Hollins glared at her with cold, lifeless eyes.

  "How do you feel?" he asked as he pulled a knife from the inside of his jacket.

  Gwen glared and shook her head. A gag had been stuffed inside her mouth, so she wasn't able to respond.

  "Ah, such expressive eyes, don't you think, Wilkins?"

  What?

  Gwen's eyes focused on the other figure across the room. Wilkins sat in a chair, a predatory smile gleaming from his mouth. "She's always been hard to tame."

  Outraged, Gwen kicked her feet and moved the chair, trying to free herself from the bonds that held her.

  Hollins laughed and took a long swig of his drink, then nodded to Wilkins. "How much longer?"

  "About an hour." Wilkins examined his pocket watch and sighed. "He will need to take the code to Lainhart. By the time he figures out where we have her, it may be too late. After all, I've been wanting to taste her for over a year. And now that her blood will be on Hunter's hands, I find myself even more… aroused."

  Gwen screamed against the gag but the sound was muffled.

  Wilkins approached her. His clothes were dark and dirty, as if he hadn't bathed in days. He leaned down, his knees popping as he came to eye level with her. "Stupid woman, thinking she can do a man's job. Though I have to admit to being impressed. After all, you tamed the Wolf, the man who I thought I had broken."

  Gwen tried to speak again but the gag ate it, so all that came out was another scream.

  "Do you love him?"

  She stilled.

  "Ah, you do! This is even better!" He jumped to his feet and slapped Hollins on the back. "Imagine that! We aim to catch a Wolf and we gain another sad ending to a love story. He shall take his own life the minute he finds out he lost another woman by his own hands. It will be such a tragic tale, don't you think?" Wilkins' fingers moved to Gwen's chest. When she was kidnapped, her dress from the night previous was discarded. The man who abducted her had thrown a much too tight dress in her direction and ordered her to put it on. It resembled something a prostitute would wear. The gown was dangerously low, and of course red, as if mocking what she had done for the Crown for a year.

  Hollins smirked and tilted his head to Gwen. He was dressed impeccably in tight pantaloons, boots, and a perfectly fitting jacket, almost as if he were getting ready to go pay a visit to someone important.

  Who pulled the strings? Was Wilkins the leader, or was it Hollins? Gwen's mind worked fast as she tried to put things together.

  And then it dawned on her.

  There never was a mole.

  There never were codes that were being sent back and forth.

  The course of the war wasn't at stake.

  She looked up.

  "Ah, she figured it out. Didn't you, sweetheart?" Hollins laughed. "Too late, though, my dear. Just as it was too late for Redding. After all, he was getting too close. He accidently took one of the wrong codes and then approached me about a new code, wondering why he wasn't aware of it. Threatened to go above us, and finally took it to Wilkins. Poor fellow. Should have let well enough alone."

  Wilkins smirked and patted Hollins on the back. "Now we will wait. The trap is set for the Wolf. He will not be able to escape this."

  "No," Hollins agreed. "He will finally die as he was supposed to nine years ago."

  Gwen closed her eyes and prayed that Hunter would never find her. She could not live with herself if something happened to him, and she would rather sacrifice her own life than see him lose his.

  Chapter Thirty

  Red—

  For you, I would beg. For you, I would plead. For you, I would sell my soul. If only it meant that I would have you in the warmth of my arms. If only it meant that I could keep you safe from the evil of this world.

  —Wolf

  Hunter barged into his grandfather's house and took the steps two at a time. It was early, but he did not care. He'd wake Lainhart up. He'd wake the whole blasted city of London if he had to.

  "Grandfather, I—" He pushed through the room and saw Lainhart sitting in his bed, reading by candlelight. His eyes flickered to Hunter's hand where he clenched the note then back to Hunter's face, and then he pointed down and shook his head back and forth.

  "N-n-o."

  "Someone has taken her." Hunter paced in front of Lainhart. "They broke into my home not but an hour ago. My wall now bears the mark of Traitor in blood red. And they left this where she was lying down."

  He put the note into Lainhart's hands and waited.

  Lainhart examined the note for some time and then smiled.

  Why the devil was he smiling?

  He pointed to his chalkboard and wrote the word Easy.

  Well, at least Hunter had that going for him.

  Lainhart focused hard on the chalkboard and shook his head then pointed to his empty water glass.

  "Water?" Hunter looked at the glass. "You need water to work?"

  Lainhart pointed his finger up.

  Hunter left and within minutes quickly returned, to find that Lainhart had already decoded part of the address.

  After several more minutes, while Hunter was sure his heart slowly died with each passing breath, Lainhart held up his chalkboard.

  "Impossible." Hunter shook his head. "No, you see that is impossible."

  Lainhart pointed down and shook his head slowly.

  "But…" Hunter examined the numbers and street name again. "This is Wilkins' house, this is part of the War Office headquarters."

  Lainhart nodded slowly and then moaned. With great effort he opened his mouth and said, "L-lucy K-kill." He took another deep breath, his face turning red from exertion. "K-k-iller."

  Hunter's mind reeled back to the original meeting with Lainhart, and then to the packet of information he had been given about all of the men who used to work for Lainhart, including Wilkins.

  "Lucy's killer took Gwen?"

  Lainhart gave a curt nod and pointed to the address again.

  Hunter's hands began to shake as he noticed the time. It was a twenty-minute ride, pushing his horse the whole way to Wilkins' house. What if he couldn't make it in time before they killed
her? What if history would indeed repeat?

  He did not even thank his grandfather. He simply ran out of the house and jumped onto his horse. Not caring that he was riding dangerously fast toward the other side of town, but needing to get there before it was too late.

  After seventeen minutes of heavy riding, sweat poured from his face. One minute, he had one minute. And then the town clocks began to chime.

  "Please, please let me be there in time," he begged.

  The house came into view just as the clocks struck seven. A gunshot went off in the house as he ran up the stairs and burst into the room.

  Wilkins and Hollins sat calmly near the fireplace. Gwen was tied to a chair, tears streaming down her face. A gag had been stuffed into her mouth, but she did not seem harmed. He could not bring himself to do anything except stare at her. Was it a figment of his imagination or was she truly alive?

  She nodded to him. Anger poured through him as his eyes took in her red dress. A mockery. They were making a mockery of her.

  He cursed and turned hate-filled eyes to Wilkins and Hollins.

  "Bravo!" Wilkins clapped. "Truly better than watching a play. You should have seen your face the moment you barged in here. I thought the gunshot was a great effect, didn't you, Hollins?"

  Hollins laughed. "Agreed. Now tell us, Hunter, what was your plan? Save the day as always? Become a war hero?"

  Hunter's hand flinched by his side. He clenched his fists to keep from charging the men, especially considering they were both armed. "No, I was simply planning on rescuing the fair maiden."

  "Not so much a maiden anymore, right, my dear?" Wilkins directed this toward Gwen.

  An intense fury burned in Hunter's head, and he stepped toward the men.

  Hollins raised his pistol while Wilkins sighed.

  "You cannot outsmart us, Hunter. I know your every move," Wilkins answered. "Though it wasn't always that way."

  "Pardon?" Hunter sidestepped and walked closer to Gwen, to shield her from the villains.

  "Yes. After all, how could I have predicted you would be in the street at the exact moment I tried to murder your brother?"

  "Ash?" Hunter felt his stomach drop. "Why the devil would you murder him?"

  "He betrayed me. You see, I gave him the opportunity to work for me, to help me in my little smuggling campaign. I aimed to make him rich — he was a second son, after all."

  "And he said no?" Hunter suddenly felt proud of his brother. Though he was still a viscount, he hadn't inherited what Hunter had, and their father had only provided for one of them.

  "Not only did he say no, but he tried to expose me. It did not help matters that you had already made up your mind to quit. The War Office was at its wit's end to lose one of the best spies our country has ever seen. Their words, not mine."

  "Of course," Hunter ground out, and clasped his hands behind his back, dropping a dagger out of his sleeve and revealing it only to Gwen, holding it in front of her face, so she could free herself from the gag and take it with her teeth.

  "But things always work out the way they are supposed to. After all, your timing was perfect. Your lovely wife got in the way. I thought you were Ash and when I directed the carriage toward you, she crossed the street. You see, I hadn't expected you back from assignment so soon. It really was so perfect. Ash left the country in grief, never exposing me, for he felt the accident was his fault — and you, you continued to work for the War Office, allowing me to use you as a pawn for the perfect crime."

  Hunter's hands shook as he listened to Wilkins talk. How had he not seen how evil this man was? Why hadn't Ash said anything? So many questions that he knew he might not live to find the answers to. Hunter felt a slight tremble through the knife behind him, a sure sign that Gwen was sawing away at her bindings.

  He sighed. "Is there a reason for this speech?"

  "Patience, Hunter. I am getting there." Wilkins raised a brow and continued talking. "I needed the money. After all, the War Office doesn't pay well, and my smuggling business needed a fall-back. Who, other than I, would be intelligent enough to pull it off? Well, of course, it would be you. And who does the War Office have reason not to trust? You. After all, you went off the deep end after your wife's death. Everyone thought so. And now? Now they will see what you have been up to."

  "You mean, other than saving lives?" Hunter sneered.

  "Smuggling weapons to the French." Wilkins smiled as Hunter frowned. "You see, you even brought the ciphers into your own house. The house that is painted with the name of traitor."

  Anger slammed Hunter in the chest. "You set me up."

  "And what a tragic little tale it will be! Two of England's greatest spies turned lovers, in prison, set to hang."

  "No!" Hunter yelled as the cold metallic knife was dropped into his waiting hands. He took a tentative step away from Gwen. "Not her."

  "I'm afraid you do not have a choice. The chess pieces have already been played."

  "Implicate me. Take me." Hunter shook his head. "But not her, not Gwen. She did nothing to deserve this. Allow me to take her punishment. Allow me to go in her place. I will admit guilt outright."

  Wilkins laughed, but Hollins shushed him. "You would admit all wrongdoing against the Crown?"

  "From my very lips I will admit guilt. They will not even need testimony nor will they need proof."

  "You will hang immediately," Hollins pointed out.

  Hunter sighed as he felt the heat of tears pool in his eyes. "My place for hers." It was what should have happened all along. It should have always been he who died nine years ago. Never Lucy. Not Ash. He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "The choice is yours, gentlemen. But know, if you send both of us in, I'll use everything in my power to fight it, and we all know I have powerful friends. I will not stop fighting until my last breath is taken from me. I would do anything to protect the woman I love."

  "Even die for something you did not do?" Wilkins shook his head. "Well, I believe the plan has worked out to our advantage, then."

  Hollins and he nodded, and then Hollins put on his hat. "Well, it seems I have a call to make to Bow Street. Wilkins will release your duchess once we have your hands tied."

  Hunter nodded as Hollins went to Gwen's hands and untied them. Hunter bent down to kiss her on the forehead, shielding her body and dropping the knife into her lap in the process.

  Gwen jumped from her chair and lunged for Hollins, landing a blow to his face before spitting at him. He fell to the floor with a groan.

  Hunter grabbed her and pulled her against him. "We do not have much time, Gwen."

  She turned around and hugged him. Her face pressed against his chest and he realized this might very well be the last time he had her in his arms.

  How he loved her. How he wished he could do more, but the funny thing about pasts was they always had a tendency to repeat themselves, and for once in his life he was given a choice. And he chose her.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Wolf—

  What will I do when I no longer wake up next to you? How can my heart continue to beat when it no longer knows the rhythm of its soul mate? I feel lost in the woods and there is no trail, no wolf, to lead me home.

  —Red

  Gwen grabbed Hunter's hand, held it within her own, and closed her eyes. Minutes, seconds, tiny fragments of time with the man she loved. And all because of one man's greed, she was having everything taken from her. Everything she cared about, everything she loved, she was touching.

  And she was losing him.

  With a sob she threw her arms around his neck and memorized his smell, the way his strong arms felt around her. She wasn't stupid. They were not only outnumbered, but she had no weapon save the knife. Even if Hunter did, that meant he could easily shoot one man but endanger her in the process. There wasn't enough time to come up with a different plan other than sacrifice. She wasn't worth it, yet she knew she would do the same for him; therefore by not allowing it, she was stealing what
peace he could offer her. She would be throwing his love back in his face.

  "I love you," she whispered in his ear. "Hunter, my Wolf."

  "Red." He choked. "My Gwen, I love you, more than you will ever know."

  But she knew, she saw it in his eyes, saw the pain it took for him to hold her close, knowing it might be the last time. Pain seized her heart as she kissed him one last time.

  "Time's up." Hollins jerked Hunter out of Gwen's arms and began pushing him toward the exit just as another figure approached the door from the other side.

  "What have we here?"

  Gwen gasped.

  "Ash." Hunter exhaled, made a motion with his hands to his brother that Gwen did not quite understand, and then ducked as Ash punched Hollins in the face. Hunter returned to Gwen's side and shielded her with his body.

  Wilkins was yelling. Gwen looked up to see a wheeled chair appear in the doorway, and then Lainhart lifted his blanket, revealing his hand on the trigger of a blunderbuss as a shot rang out. And then silence.

  Hunter removed himself from her body and examined Wilkins. "Direct shot into the head." He licked his lips and then looked to Lainhart. "You shot a blunderbuss with one hand."

  "He's a crack shot," Ash answered, hitting Hollins one more time, rendering him completely unconscious.

  ****

  Hunter stared at his grandfather. He knelt in front of him and shook his head. "Why did you come? I don't understand?" He looked up at Ash, who seemed to have aged over the years.

  He grinned and patted Lainhart on the back. "I've been his butler for the past two months. The minute I heard you were back in town, I returned."

  Hunter pulled his brother into a hug and fought the urge to cry. "I thought you dead."

  "I deserved death."

  "No." Hunter jerked back and stared into his brother's green eyes. "No, you did not. You were doing what was right. You were going to expose him for what he truly was."