McCallan's Heart

by Theodora Lane

  Tori counted to ten, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Panic was the enemy in the woods—she’d learned that lesson as a kid. When her heartbeat slowed, she moved to the side, inch by inch, so she could peer with one eye past the tree.

  She scanned the woods, her gaze methodically moving from left to right, until she spotted a wisp of bright blue. Not a natural color. She focused on it, but it lay partly in deep shadows.

  A figure moved.

  A man. And he carried something wrapped in blue. It was large and heavy from the way he moved. She couldn’t see details at all, just dark shapes and splashes of color as he walked through the trees.

  He stopped and lowered the blue shape to the ground.

  She thought of calling out to him, but her skin broke out in gooseflesh, warning her not to betray herself. All her instincts screamed at her not to give away her location.

  It might be a matter of life or death.

  She closed her eyes as her heartbeat accelerated, and took several deep breaths.

  She was too smart to do something foolish, like bolt.

  She sniffed the air and caught an odd, unfamiliar scent. Her stomach rolled with near violent results. Barfing would not be good, not now. She clamped her hand over her mouth and swallowed, gaining control of her treacherous belly.

  But whatever it was, she knew it was bad.

  What was that man doing out here in the depths of the forest, and what the hell was wrapped in that blue plastic bundle?

  As her stomach settled, curiosity replaced fear. She remembered her camera, and moving as silently as she could, she slipped it out of the case and brought it up to her face.

  Tori turned it on, the lens opened, and she hit the zoom button as she focused it.

  A white man, about mid-forties, average height, dressed in a green, camo-colored flak jacket and pants. A hunter? Weren’t they supposed to wear orange vests for safety?

  He didn’t carry a rifle.

  If he wasn’t a hunter, what was he?

  More importantly, what had he wrapped in plastic and what was he going to do with it?

  She adjusted her camera to the lowering light and took several shots of him as he moved around the small area, stepping carefully around the thing on the ground. A few close-ups of his face. They weren’t great, she’d seen better photos from convenience store tapes, but they’d do.

  Camera poised, she watched as he bent over and adjusted the plastic, tugging on it. Dragging it along the ground toward a mound of what she’d thought had been leaves. She scanned to the left and right of the area. Another mound. She dropped the camera to her lap and took a deep breath, and then raised it again and searched farther to the right, her hands shaking as she spotted a long pile of dirt. Just big enough to be…

  She returned the focus of the camera to where the blue bundle lay.

  A pale, slender arm flopped out of the plastic and Tori’s heart stopped. On the small, feminine wrist a silver charm bracelet caught her eye. She focused on it and clicked the button on her camera.

  With her next breath, her heart slammed into her throat as she jerked back behind the tree.

  Oh my God!

  On fire, all her senses went on alert, all of them wailing danger.

  She stared straight ahead at the woods she’d just walked through, searching for where she could go. Looking for anything to provide her cover, but there wasn’t any. If she moved, chances are, he’d see her.

  And she knew her life depended on her not being seen.

  The best thing she could do would be to hold her ground.

  Be patient. Be a fawn.

  She slid down the trunk, to sit on her butt with her knees pulled up to her chest. Tori rested her chin on one knee as she clutched the camera in her hands.

  She could be a fawn.

  * * * *

  The wolf halted. Her scent became stronger. He was closer. Much closer.

  She had stopped.

  He sniffed the air. Ahead, to the right. Moving in a crouch, he slunk along the ground, not disturbing a branch or leaf. Hunting.

  When he spotted her, sitting against a tree, he nearly howled. He’d run her to ground. His eyes narrowed as they focused on her.

  Inhaling, his body trembled with the taste of her scent. Fear.

  He sniffed, short and hard. Another smell intruded. Two smells.

  Man.

  And something dead.

  A low rumbling rolled through his wide chest, escaping from between his teeth, as his lips pulled back in a snarl.

  The dead thing wasn’t like his rabbit. It wasn’t fresh. It wasn’t bloody. It was just dead. He knew this wasn’t right. Wasn’t the way of the woods.

  The man.

  The wolf searched the woods and found him, past where she crouched. If she had continued, she might have walked up to the man.

  He glanced back at his mate. Eyes closed, she hunkered behind the tree. Like a fawn.

  A fawn that knew danger lurked, just on the other side of the tree.

  No one endangered his mate.

  The wolf moved off to the right, circling around, taking a wide path toward the man and the dead thing.

  The threat to his mate had to be removed.

  * * * *

  Tori opened her eyes. If she could get a few more shots, she’d have a complete record of this, whatever this was.

  She turned, careful to stay hidden and raised the camera to her face.

  The man knelt down, placed one hand on what had to be the woman’s shoulder, the other on her hip, and heaved.

  The body, still wrapped in the plastic, disappeared with a thud.

  He sat back, wiped his hands off on his pants and smiled. Chills raced up Tori’s spine and her gaze darted back to the other mounds. Graves.

  He pushed the piled dirt at the top of the grave in with his hands, and then worked his way toward the foot of it, until all the dirt had been used. Next, he covered the mound with dead leaves to disguise it.

  Tori couldn’t lie to herself any longer. The woman he buried—he’d probably killed her. And those other graves? How many were here in the woods?

  * * * *

  The wolf lay under the bushes, watching the man. Beneath him, his haunches tensed, prepared to spring forward, ready to chase down, bring to earth, and kill his new quarry.

  The man stood.

  The wolf sprung, covering a third of the distance to his target in a long leap. He hit the ground and bounded, growling, teeth bared, at the man.

  * * * *

  Marvin spun at the growl, spraying handfuls of leaves everywhere.

  A huge black dog raced toward him and all he could see were teeth. Sharp, white, deadly.

  Marvin screamed and stumbled backward, desperate to put more distance between the dog and himself. He dug in his jacket pocket, his fingers clenching around the handle of the revolver he kept just in case.

  The dog moved so fast, Marvin barely had time to pull it free and raise the gun before the creature leaped into the air and sailed toward him.

  Without aiming, he fired.

  Missed.

  He fired again.

  The animal yelped, and hit the earth in a tumble of dark fur and fangs.

  Marvin turned and ran.

  * * * *

  A black wolf burst from the bushes, heading straight for the man.

  “Oh my God!” Tori squeaked as she fell on her butt. She’d been right, there had been a wolf and that had to mean this was a werewolf.

  Two shots flared from a gun in the man’s hand.

  Watching through her camera’s viewfinder, Tori cried out as the big beast went down. The reports had nearly deafened her, but she’d kept the camera focused on the action playing out in front of her.

  The man ran off, disappearing into the woods.

  Without thinking, she left her hiding spot, shoved her camera back in its case, and ran to the wounded animal. He lay on his side, panting, blood spilling from the wound in his chest.
<
br />   “Oh God.” She fell onto her knees and reached out to touch him, but his lips curled back in a soft growl. She drew back. “Listen, I’m a friend. I’m not going to hurt you. Understand?” She locked gazes with the wolf and waited for some sign he wouldn’t try to kill her.

  Even if the guy had run off, Tori worried he’d return to finish the wolf off. And if he came back and found her? With the wolf down, and his gun, Tori didn’t stand a chance.

  She jerked off her camp shirt, leaving her tank top on, and bundled it up. She then took a deep breath and pressed it to the wound. The wolf whined, but didn’t move.

  “Now, I know you can hear me. You need to change, got it? You need to change back now so you can heal.” Her voice sounded raw and desperate. Not like her at all.

  The wolf licked his lips, and then panted again. Whined.

  “I know what you are. Just do it. Please. Before he comes back,” she whispered. “Please.” Without thinking she stroked the wolf’s pelt, letting her fingers delve into the softness, feeling the warmth of the creature, the strong muscles of his body.

  The wolf turned his head, licked her hand, and then fell back.

  “I know. It hurts.” She put her face down to rest on his forehead. “Come on. Change. I know you can do it. Think past the pain.” She cradled the massive head in her hands, staring into deep golden eyes, inhaling his scent. Her body grew aroused.

  Not the time for this. Got an emergency here.

  His scent was familiar, yet different. He smelled like her brothers, but with his own delicious twist. As the wolf whimpered, she straightened and looked around. Which way to her car? She had to get them both out of there, but if he didn’t change, start the healing process, she wouldn’t be able to lift him.

  He was black and silver, with massive paws and a beautiful plume tail. Truly a magnificent animal.

  What would his man be like?

  And why the hell was she reacting to him?

  “If that guy comes back he’ll kill us both.” She couldn’t waste any more time coaxing. “Change, damn it, and let’s get the hell out of here.” She tugged on his ear, just as she’d tugged on her brothers’ ears to get them moving, a trick she’d seen her father do countless times.

  The wolf yelped, closed his eyes, and the air around them changed.

  His fur stood on end, and a familiar vibration emanated from him. She’d been around her father and brother scores of times during changes, so she knew what to expect.

  What she didn’t expect was the effect it had on her.

  Again, her nipples tightened into hard, aching peaks and a rush of blood and arousal filled her core. Just like earlier in the woods.

  She didn’t want to think what that might mean. Not now, and not later. Not ever.

  The air rippled and she looked away as he changed. It was a habit she’d developed with her brothers. To her, their change had seemed so personal, so vulnerable a moment, with all the pain and pleasure and confusion clear on their faces.

  She opened her eyes and looked down into the deep brown eyes of a man.

  “Let’s get out of here.” She got to her feet and helped him up. The wound in his chest had stopped bleeding, but it would be a while before the healing was complete.

  Tori grabbed his hand, and pulled. He rose to his knees, and then with a great effort he stood upright, but swayed a little.

  “Thanks.” His whiskey gravel voice wrapped around her as he leaned his considerable weight on her. He was big, perhaps as big as her brother Jake. And if what she felt under her arm was proof, he was all muscle.

  She looked up into his face and their gazes locked.

  He cupped her cheek in his hand and the tenderest look she’d ever seen in a man’s eyes captured her. Without thinking, she rose on her toes to meet his lips.

  Chapter 3

  A twig snapped in the distance, sounding as loud as the gunshots had to Tori’s sensitive ears.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he said and broke the spell that had frozen Tori in place. She blinked, pulled out her compass, and took a quick reading.

  “This way.” She pointed, and together they struggled through the brush, saplings, and mature trees. The light had faded even more, and she knew if they were caught out here after sunset, they’d truly be lost.

  “How’s your wound?” she asked, just to break the awkward silence.

  He grunted, and kept going.

  Okay, silence is good.

  Tori had a million questions, but now wasn’t the time. Right now they needed to get to safety. There was no telling if that guy would come back, follow them, and finish what he’d started.

  Tori might have heightened senses, but she wasn’t a were. If she got shot, there was no changing to heal for her.

  Her stomach clenched as she gritted her teeth under his weight and quickened her pace. He’d just have to keep up with her, that’s all.

  The big were matched her stride for stride. She glanced up at him to see if he still hurt.

  Only grim determination showed on his face. The thin line of his lips and the set of his jaw told her he probably still hurt, but if she knew alphas, and she did, he’d never let her know.

  Stupid macho weres.

  Just my freakin’ luck. What were the odds in the middle of the woods, in another state even, she’d come across a werewolf?

  And what were the odds they’d stumble upon a man burying a dead woman?

  She shivered, remembering that pale slim arm, delicate charm bracelet.

  He tugged her closer to his body, tucking her under his arm as if she belonged there. The urge to stop, lie down on the forest floor, and let him fuck her, hard and fast, nearly buckled her knees.

  What the hell? She wasn’t going to trust what her body told her, not with this guy.

  Damn it. She wanted him. Her body almost demanded she give in to her responses and let her tight control slip free. Tori had no intention of letting her hormones get the best of her. She knew the tricks her brothers had pulled as teens, using their pheromones to entice girls, but she wasn’t falling for it. Hell no.

  This guy had danger and trouble scrawled all over him in large, thick, glow-in-the-dark marker even a kid could see.

  Once she got him to her car and out of here—that was it. She was done with werewolves—she’d sworn off them three years ago and she wasn’t going back to a life controlled by them.

  All she wanted was a nice, normal man. Just a plain guy. Nothing special. No alphas, no shifters, no weres. Period.

  She glanced at the man again, stealing a closer look. His dark lashes were long, yet masculine. His nose almost aquiline. Thick ebony black hair fell to the left across his brow, but the sides and back were trimmed neat and short.

  She glanced at his blood-covered hand pressed to his chest.

  No ring.

  *

  Caught between pain and desire, Russ stole a glance at his mate. Long dark hair down to her shoulders with full bangs touching her eyebrows, highlighting her wide blue eyes. Pale skin, slightly flushed with excitement, added to her beauty.

  She didn’t know she belonged to him, not yet anyway. His pull to her unmistakable in its intensity and the emotions it scraped out of him.

  This was not what he’d planned. Or ever expected. Wanted, maybe, but he’d given up hope of that dream long ago. He knew the danger of who and what he was, and he’d never let anyone close enough to him to be trapped in it or hurt by it.

  But this woman—his woman—she’d known what he was. And she hadn’t been afraid.

  How the hell is that possible?

  He had questions, but they could wait. First things first. He needed to find shelter and get this bullet out. Then rest to let the healing finish. Then questions. Then…

  His body knew exactly what it wanted, but not later. Right now. Good God, it was hard to walk with a stiff cock. With every step it rubbed against the zipper of his jeans, and his wolf whined to be free.

  Pushing the
beast down, he concentrated on getting out of the woods.

  He pulled away from her, despite his body’s protest, and tried to put some distance, even a few inches, between them. If not, he feared his next actions would be to fling her to the ground and mate her.

  “Better?” she asked, glancing up at him. Her arm slid away from his waist.

  He nodded, afraid to trust his voice. He’d make it back to the road, find his bike, and get on it. The wolf might want her, but he knew the danger he’d put her in.

  Mileage. He needed to put a hell of a lot of mileage between him and her.

  * * * *

  Marvin stumbled to the back door of the cabin and shoved it open. He fell through it, shaking as if he had a fever.

  “Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” he said to himself, jerking the gun as if it could respond to him. He needed to pull himself together. It had just been some big-ass dog, that’s all.

  Dumb fucking mutt.

  He looked down at the revolver still clutched in his hand. Took a deep breath, let it out, and then smiled.

  Killing with a gun was so…distant.

  He much preferred using his hands. Feeling his victim’s neck beneath his fingers, the pulse and breath being squeezed out. Bruising. The glaze in their eyes. That last heartbeat, and then nothing.

  A shudder passed through him and he fell onto the stained mattress in the corner he slept on and relieved the surge of arousal that always accompanied the completion of a job well done.

  Just as he reached release, he pictured himself killing the dog again. This time, he was cool and steady. Raised his gun and fired.

  Hitting the animal right between the eyes.

  Marvin groaned, and rode the brief wave of pleasure, catching his precious seed in his handkerchief. No evidence, not a single drop.

  He sat up, caught his breath, and then looked around. Everything had been packed in the Crown Vic, ready to leave.

  He stood, put his clothes to right, shoving the used cotton hankie back in his pocket, and left the shack. He backed the car out of the garage and tossed the idea of burning the place down back and forth. No, better leave it. He’d cleared out all trace of evidence.

  For the last time, Marvin edged the car down the ruts toward the highway.