Her shoulders slacked and she huffed out a breath. Hell, that was close.
Striding away, Travis called over his shoulder, “I wouldn’t put anything in his fridge. He used to keep dead body parts in the freezer.”
“Yeah, right,” she muttered. At least she could loosen her death grip on the phone and the mug now that he’d moved away.
He raised a hand. “Honest truth.”
She looked over her shoulder at the fridge. Eww.
…
He had less than no hope of concentrating on anything at work. When he’d walked in, late as LeAnn had mentioned, he and Betty had opted not to make eye contact for the day. Hiding out in his office should have given him ample time to catch up…but for two details—two items.
Item one being his scent-matched source of frustration. He’d seen her naked, and he couldn’t unsee that…and, honestly, he didn’t want to. But the image of her leaning over him was burned into his retinas. Even when he closed his eyes, LeAnn was there. She was gorgeous. She was like a wall pinup in his brain for the day.
Item two was all the crazy assertions she’d made. He rubbed both his hands down his face. This was asinine. Anything she said was insane ramblings from a mentally unstable, albeit very hot, woman. There was no reason to suppose that Ross was still alive. None. He based his actions on logic and reason and… He called Miller anyway—on his cellphone—after he’d closed the door to his office.
“Well, hell, Travis, I didn’t realize we’d be chatting every day now. I knew it was a mistake to let you see me naked.”
Normally he’d have some response, but he couldn’t seem to keep his mind on anything. Well, not anything without blue eyes and satiny brown hair and a body that wouldn’t quit.
“How sure are you that you killed Ross?” Travis asked the Alpha of the Black Tusk pack.
“Pretty damn,” Miller said with a snort of disbelief. “You don’t really recover from being torn to pieces. My pack didn’t exactly take kindly to what he did to one of our own—beyond bringing the poachers. Colby was pack to us.”
“And you’re sure it was him—not the wolf he let loose.” Jordan had mentioned Ross had released an actual wolf that looked just like him.
There was a telltale pause before Miller said, “Yeah, of course it was him.”
“You saw his tattoo?”
“Tattoo?”
“All of Rainier has phosphorous tattoos that you can see in both forms. You might have been able to see it somewhat with the shade of the trees.”
“I didn’t notice a tattoo, but it happened fast. Once we caught him…well, it was over quick. A pack killing isn’t pretty. We don’t stop and shake hands and check out each other’s ink.”
That’s what he figured. It had to have been Ross. An actual wolf wouldn’t behave the same or smell the same. Then again, pack thinking sometimes overrode rational thought. If they’d seen a wolf that looked like Ross, the Black Tusk pack might have convinced themselves it was him. Hell. This was a pain. LeAnn had made him doubt himself.
“What’s all this about?”
He might as well get it out. It was bound to spread rapidly when he told his pack—which he’d have to do, for several reasons. “Ross’s sister came looking for him.”
The other man hissed out a breath.
“She has no idea what he was doing, and she wasn’t involved,” Travis said quickly.
“You’re sure?”
“One hundred percent.” He might doubt a lot of the rest of what she thought, but she had no idea what Ross had been up to. “She thinks I’m crazy for even suggesting it.” Which was funny…if anything was funny.
“So you wanted to check to make sure or she wants his body or what?”
It didn’t sound like there was a body to give her—which he didn’t like to think on, even if Ross had deserved it. “She swears she could smell his scent around his place and my place last night.”
“She’s Lycan?”
He paused. “I think so.”
“You think so?”
Yeah, that sounded stupid. How else would she recognize a scent? Why else would she have been naked at his place? She was a Lycan. Travis clenched his teeth and started lining up items on his desk down to the millimeter. Who ran naked? No one ran naked. Barefoot, sure. In very little clothing, okay. But naked? He put his pencils one inch apart. She was a Lycan.
Miller was still waiting for his answer. “Yeah. I mean, yes, she is.”
“Did you smell Ross around?” Miller had to ask that.
Dragging his hand through his hair as he leaned back in his seat, Travis said, “I don’t know. Her scent is close enough to his that it was probably her I’m smelling.” There had been something out there, but it had to have been her. Ross had to be dead. Anything else wasn’t logical. Anything else was absurd.
“She’s probably chasing her tail.” There was a pause before Miller asked, “You’re sure she had nothing to do with what he did?”
“Yeah, she’s not even from around here.” She’d mentioned a flight, but he should really find out where she was from…and a last name. Not that she’d have it for very long if she accepted the scent-match. Scent-matched was as good as married.
“Well, good. And that makes me sound like a hard-ass, but yesterday is still fresh in my mind. She should get the hell out of here. Even if Ross helped us finally get rid of those bastards, he’s not winning any popularity contests anytime soon. Any kin of his isn’t welcome.”
Travis saw red and clenched his teeth. If Miller were in the room, he’d have torn into him. She couldn’t leave.
Miller cleared his throat after Travis’s continued silence. “You don’t want anyone in your pack getting any ideas—thinking they’re doing something for the good of the pack.”
“There’s one problem with that.”
“Her leaving?”
“Yup.”
“What?” Miller asked.
He picked up a pencil, twirling it between his fingers. Travis’d always been the careful one in his family. His only sibling had been reckless and carefree. One day, he’d run out and enlisted on a whim. Just done it. When Josh had been killed overseas a dozen years ago, the senselessness of it— He’d died dragging a friend’s dead body out of an ambush. They’d called his brother a hero, and he was, but there had to have been a way for Josh to still be alive. His brother had rushed in before he could analyze the logistics. He’d run headlong into the fight like he always had.
He’d always looked up to Josh—trying to be like him. Josh had let him follow him everywhere despite their age difference. No one was as much fun to shadow as his brother. And everybody loved him. He was easygoing. Josh’d always tried to get his little brother to loosen up and go with the flow.
As an adult, he saw that for the mistake it was.
Travis had loved Josh, but his brother had always lacked self-control, and it’d gotten him killed. Travis chose what happened. He did. Or he had. It was all about to go to hell. He was about to lose control of everything, and he’d always had control.
“I scent-matched on her. She’s pack.” The pencil in his hand snapped. He threw both pieces away. He’d finally said it out loud. That made it real somehow. He was scent-matched to the sister of his pack’s enemy.
Miller exhaled slowly. “Damn.”
His thoughts exactly.
“Just…damn.”
Yup.
“Your pack knows?”
“Not yet.”
“Did any of your alpha contenders die yesterday? Hell, that sounds cold, but…staying Alpha in that pack is like working with live wires.”
It didn’t surprise him that the other Alpha recognized this pack had the potential to be difficult to maintain. It was a surprise he’d managed this long. If any of the females in the pack had wanted to be Alpha, he’d have been challenged over and over by the males wanting to be with them. “I wish. I lost Eli and Tom. The rest of us have enough injuries that I’m hoping they’ll think twic
e about challenging me immediately.”
“I wouldn’t count on that. The two I’m thinking of—the ones snarling at you and refusing to follow directions in the middle of yesterday’s fight…”
“Troy and Liam.”
When they’d split off from Glacier Peak pack to form their own pack with Travis as Alpha, he’d known those two were going to be a problem. There’d been Lycans who’d joined from other packs who were arrogant with something to prove, but none compared to the two he’d brought with him from his old pack. As a whole, the pack was gaining a reputation for being the “frat pack,” and their careless audacity yesterday had only entrenched the belief.
In particular, Liam and Troy had stubbornly wanted to be reckless and boneheaded. If Travis hadn’t forced the issue—in snarling fury—they’d both be dead today. Instead, he had two wolves who were pissed at him for saving their lives.
“Yeah. Troy and Liam. Hotheaded jackasses,” Miller said. “I was tempted to use them as shields in the fight so we could get closer to the damn poachers in the trees—that’s about when you went all badass and ran across the clearing. Seeing as how you’d risked your life in a stupid way, I figured they might be worth something to you.”
“Pack is pack. You can’t always pick the morons you’d give your life for.” But he wouldn’t squander it like his brother had. The shortest distance between two points had been straight through the clearing, and the poachers had been distracted by the firefight. It’d been a reasonable decision. He could think fast on his feet—logically—and the end result of his being in control was more people lived. It weighed on him that he’d lost two yesterday, even if it was a realistic cost.
“Not your mate either, apparently.”
He recalled her face when he’d said she was the last person he’d want as a mate. For a second, that bravado of hers had fallen in a wince as she broke eye contact with him. It had been her first show of weakness in front of him, and it hadn’t made him feel more powerful. He’d felt like a bastard for shooting his mouth off like that.
LeAnn was gorgeous and feisty and she gave as good as she got.
But the timing of the scent-match was hell. Fate had a sick sense of humor. Last night he’d been thinking about how waiting on a scent-match didn’t fit his life plan, but this couldn’t have happened at a worse time.
And Troy and Liam might capitalize on it.
“Not that we needed any more dead Lycans yesterday, but you better watch your back.” Miller sighed. “It’s a shame. I’ve really enjoyed dealing with you and not one of those morons. Even when you pull your I’m-an-idiot act, you’re still better than them.”
“Thanks,” Travis said drily. He typically dropped the act around other Alphas, but Miller had stayed with Jordan for a few weeks before he’d been made Alpha.
Miller laughed. “You know, seeing Jordan and Christa yesterday almost had me wishing I would scent-match, but…”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Travis gritted his teeth. Why couldn’t this have happened in a year or even a month? Why now? He still had the stitches in his leg from yesterday’s battle. He’d been hunting Colby’s killer for the week before that. He needed sleep and to heal. Not to be chasing a damn ghost, hiding his knives, and waiting for his first challenge.
“Hopefully, she’s hot.”
Well, there was that. If he kept thinking about that, maybe the rest of his world being turned on its ass wouldn’t be as bad. “Smoking. Crazy as hell, but you can’t have everything.”
“Sometimes the crazy ones are the most fun.”
She’d sure made the morning interesting. He’d never get bored when she was that unpredictable. She could be fun…in so many ways. As long as he didn’t die in the first challenge.
…
Things weren’t adding up. Either the entire pack, including its Alpha, was guilty as hell or her brother was. Why had they searched Ross’s place and taken his computer?
“What did you do?” she muttered to herself as she moved around his house. She was so accustomed to leaving no trace behind her that it was strange to not mentally stockpile locations of items. She could move the address book to a different spot on the counter. She didn’t have to leave a stack of bills fanned precisely as it had been. Geez, did everyone pay too much for utilities around here? Rural living apparently wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Wiping tired hands down her face, she leaned against the counter. Travis and his pack had probably removed anything of value to her. Anything they knew about. Movement outside caught her attention, and she stared at a large bush just inside the copse of trees behind her brother’s house. Something was in that bush, staring right back at her.
Clenching her teeth, LeAnn went to the door and opened it. She could almost see a set of eyes slightly below waist level. One of the pack was here. She inhaled. Not Travis. His scent made her body feel superheated and sensitive…and like she had an itch that needed scratching. It was going to be hard to leave here when she did. Despite the fact that this new welcoming committee had sharp teeth and didn’t appear to be so welcoming.
“If you want to come in and talk, we can. Otherwise you should get out of here before I go for a gun.”
No movement.
Nice try.
“I know you’re out there.” She inhaled again. Great. Female. Nothing like starting off the day with a girl fight. So this was the pack that Travis had mentioned. Her new family. Uh-huh, they’d sure love to welcome her with open arms. Especially if any of what Travis said was true—and he genuinely seemed to believe it.
It didn’t matter. She really didn’t deserve nice things. Things like belonging and love were for people who hadn’t done what she’d done.
Her new…sister was still staring her down. Waiting for her to show fear. She was feeling the love.
She sat down on the steps and leaned against the porch railing. No way was she backing down, but bravado could be so exhausting.
The breeze now carried the scent of heightened emotions…anger possibly? It didn’t smell like fear…no fear had a scent all its own.
Her mother slammed her palm down on the counter, making her daughter jump. “You were a mistake, LeAnn. Your father, that bastard, took everything from me when he got me pregnant with you. And you—you’re just like him. Do you have any idea how much I’ve given up for you? And do you appreciate it? No. The school called again. You’ve been hours late to school all week and your teachers say you look so dazed that they’re sure you’re on drugs.”
“At least I’m going to school.” She’d been so tired, so very tired. Whenever she closed her eyes, she heard her mother’s scream—a new recurring nightmare where darkness overwhelmed her, followed by sharp, blinding light. She sat on the kitchen floor with her mother above her, screaming. She couldn’t seem to get up, couldn’t speak, and the screaming went on and on. And the feelings that she felt—that sense of power and anger and betrayal. It felt so real.
There was a hard edge in her mom’s gaze now—almost as if she loathed her.
LeAnn crossed her arms and shrugged. “The lady in the front office hates me. She keeps saying I’m disrespectful when I’m not doing anything other than looking at her.”
“I’m not even sure I should let them test you for drugs if it comes to that.” She laughed, but it was an ugly sound, devoid of humor. “Heaven knows what might show up on tests.”
What the hell was she talking about?
“I’m just not…sleeping well.”
Her mother looked through the window up at the stars and then shook her head. “That bastard. I wish I’d never met your father.” She turned her accusing eyes back on LeAnn. “And you! You’re a thankless brat—a waste of my time.”
Nothing she did was ever enough. It was hard to believe her mom’s words could still sting, even though she’d heard them over and over. They were the chorus to her mom’s rant. She was just like her father. She should never have been born. The rage built inside L
eAnn, gnawing at her. It was like a beast with a life of its own. Her heartbeat picked up and her breath came in ragged gasps. Her bones hurt—how they ached as she clenched her fists at her side.
Her mom’s eyes widened as she watched LeAnn fight to control her temper.
“I don’t need you,” LeAnn ground out.
She caught it then—that smell—she recognized it—it was the sharp odor of fear. It had lingered in the house for days. A week ago, her mother would have slapped her for disrespecting her like that, for mouthing off. Or grabbed her hair and dragged her to her room. Her mother’s control on her own temper had become nonexistent lately. But now she looked wary.
“What are you afraid of?” she asked her mom in a whisper.
Her mother stood up straight and folded her arms in front of her. “I’m not afraid of anything.” Then she visibly swallowed—her throat jerking as she did.
LeAnn’s gaze locked on her mom’s throat. She could almost see and hear her mom’s pulse. Maybe she could. Everything was so loud these days. Her head was pounding from the pressure of blocking out the world while maintaining her temper, which was fraying.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Her mother’s hand went to her throat. “Stop it. Just stop it. Keep your damn eyes off me.”
LeAnn blinked. The scent of fear was stronger. “You’re afraid of me.” There was a note of wonder in her voice.
“I’m not,” her mom said, too fast, too breathlessly.
Hell, her own mother acted like she was some sort of monster. Her mother wouldn’t even meet her eyes today. She was afraid—of her own daughter. Why?
I’m not a monster.
Though the building rage that lashed out at times made her feel like one. She was almost as tall as her mother. And at times, she was more mature—like now when her mother was whining about having a child. Being born was not her fault. And she was trying to control her temper, even if no one appreciated it. And no one did. In her mind, the beast growled and thrashed around. A flash of fur and fangs appeared and disappeared in her head.
Her mother backed up a step.
The scent of fear was making her want to hurl.
Crazy Over You Page 3