No one was in the spacious foyer, so he entered the dining room. The sideboard was still loaded with food, and the other Hunters were in various stages of devouring it. He made himself a plate and sat down.
“You’re chipper this morning,” Anthony said archly.
Clint grinned at him, lifting a forkful of eggs to his mouth. After he swallowed, he asked, “Where’s Ellen?” He’d expected to see her in the dining room, wanted everyone to see the evidence of her claiming.
Anthony frowned. “I thought she hadn’t come down yet.”
Clint pushed his chair back and stood. “Where the fuck is she?” he muttered, not really asking anyone in particular. He hurried through the downstairs rooms, but returned to the dining room alone. Anthony looked up and met his gaze. His worry must have shown.
“Don’t worry. She usually stops by the post office on the way to work. That’s probably where she is.”
Clint pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and sat back down. She didn’t answer when he called. He was alarmed, but he didn’t know if he felt that from her through the bond, or if it was because he just didn’t like not having her near him. When she returned, he vowed, he’d never let her out of his sight again. He knew without a doubt she would never put up with that kind of absolute possessiveness, so he tried to banish the promise, tried to focus on his breakfast.
What had once been the best food he’d had in ages became cardboard. He ate anyway. Werewolves had higher metabolisms than humans, and he suspected he’d need all of his strength in the coming days.
Fear spiked through him, and he knew it was Ellen’s. Knew she was reaching out to him for help, but he had no idea where she was or how to reach her.
He looked at Anthony. “She’s in trouble.”
* * * * *
Ellen woke up warm and replete and happy. And waiting for the other shoe to drop. During the night, Clint had awakened her, hard and insistent and everything she’d ever wanted from him. But there seemed to be a desperate edge to it. She knew he was waiting, even anticipating, her rejection of him. Them. The bond between them. She had no idea why, but knew eventually he’d have to tell her.
Heart lodged in her throat, she got up and prepared for her day, refusing to ponder what was so bad he was certain she would turn from him. She couldn’t imagine anything so horrible it would kill her love for the wolf who had finally made his claim.
Downstairs, she checked the fax machine, but no new reports of rogues had come in. Odd. Things had been very quiet the last few weeks. That was why there were so many Hunters in the house now. Usually it was only Anthony and one more.
The bell rang, and she hurried to answer it. When so many people were in the house, it was easier to order in meals. Breakfast should be waiting on the other side. She frowned when she answered the door to a new delivery guy. Something about him seemed familiar, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She blew it off and took the bags from him before slamming the door shut, turning the lock, and resetting the alarm. Normally, they didn’t bother with the warning system, but after the attack at her condo, Anthony and Clint had both insisted.
In the dining room, she pulled boxes out and set them up, then tossed the bags in the garbage. She opened everything, but nothing looked appealing, so she didn’t eat. She was fighting the urge to go wake Clint up for round fifteen or so, but fought it. He was hiding something from her, something bad, and she wasn’t in a big hurry to find out what it was. She was enjoying being new to a mate bond, like being new to marriage. She did not intend to ruin it with dark secrets.
Sighing, she went to the room she sometimes used as an office. She preferred the library, where she could spread out her papers on the big table and the old chronicles were in easy reach. The office was where her work desktop was, however, and she hadn’t checked her email in a few days. Nothing was urgent, so she got her purse and keys.
No one was around yet. No one to entertain or distract her. She’d do the morning post office run and hopefully, when she got back, the house would be awake and busy.
The town was nestled in a small valley, the population a whopping four hundred. Everyone knew everyone. There were no strangers in Crossroads. She’d lived and worked with the Hunters since she was a teenager, so everyone knew her too. She spoke to several people before she went in the tiny building, but oddly, no one was around when she came out. She put a box of mail in the trunk and walked around to the driver’s door, but a hard male body pushed up against her, trapping her against the car before she could get it open.
* * * * *
Standing in the shadows of an alley, he watched her get out of her car. He shook with exhilaration, with triumph. He’d known she was a woman of routines, of habits, but hadn’t been sure the males surrounding her would allow her out alone. He had another plan to take her if necessary, but this was easier, faster. Ultimately more satisfying.
There were too many people around, so he continued to watch. To wait for the right moment. And it arrived when she exited the post office. Moving to the back of her car, she opened the trunk, not paying attention to her surroundings. He sneered and moved silently. She thought she was safe. She was about to learn otherwise.
He grabbed her at the driver’s door, using his bigger body to push her against the car. He had her, would kill her on their own lands to draw the others to him.
“I know what you are,” he accused. His voice was harsh.
Ellen recognized it from the attack outside her condo and realized why she hadn’t been able to pinpoint why the deliveryman had been so familiar, yet not anyone she recognized. She hadn’t seen his face that night, and he hadn’t spoken this morning. Anthony and Clint were going to freak out when they heard the man had been on the property and that close to her.
“You werewolves are a scourge on this earth. We’ll kill you all.”
Something hard pricked her side, and she reached for the mate bond, but she didn’t know how it worked. How to make it work. She tried to funnel her fear and need into it but didn’t know if it worked. Tears burned her eyes, and she hardened her resolve. She finally had Clint. She was not going to be intimidated, or worse, in broad daylight in the middle of her town. As if he sensed the change in her, he curled his hand around the nape of her neck and used his body to block anyone’s view who happened by.
And then luck, or karma, or a higher being, came to her rescue. She swore she felt something divine move toward her. Knew her imagination had gone into overdrive, but didn’t care when seconds later the dark blue chest of the town police chief filled her vision.
“Hey, Ellen,” his tone was affable, but his eyes were hard, glittering rocks. The stranger behind her backed off, and the knife disappeared. “How ya doing? Anthony’s looking for you. Something about late reports.”
What very few people knew was that Sam was Alpha of the small pack that made up about half the population of the town. Right now, he was all Alpha werewolf, his tone and body language aggressive and dominant. Then the knife was back, plunging into her side. She fell, and it seemed like she fell and fell and fell. Her assailant took off, and she clung to the sense of Clint that was in her mind, in her heart. Instead of pursuing him, Sam rushed to her side.
“Go after him,” she ordered. The wound hurt like hell, but it wasn’t fatal.
His jaw hardened. “Don’t worry. We’ll get him. I’ll wait with you for Anthony.” He looked pointedly at her neck. “And who else?” He helped her sit up with her back to the car, one hand pressed over her lower back where the knife had gone in.
“Clint Osborn,” she answered, trying to breathe through a kind of pain she’d never felt before. “Used to be a Hunter.”
He nodded. “I know him. Honey, we need to get you to the Doc. I’m going to carry you. Can you call Clint while I do that?”
Her head jerked once in affirmative. She patted her pockets but came up empty handed. “Phone?”
He stood, handed her his phone, and then stooped to p
ick her up. All the air in her lungs whooshed out at the movement. She breathed through the pain, struggled for control, and felt Clint coming for her. When she thought she could speak without stuttering, she called and left a message when he didn’t answer. Then did the same with Anthony. Reception was spotty here in the mountain valley, so she wasn’t surprised when she didn’t get through to either of them. They were probably on the winding road coming into town.
Sam walked across the street and a couple blocks down into Doc’s office. Every step was agony, but she kept her whimpers to herself. Squeezing her eyes shut, she called to Clint with everything in her and hoped he heard. Then the time for thinking stopped, and she was sitting on a hard examination table, letting Sam and Doc pull off her coat and then her sweater.
Doc made soothing sounds as he cleaned off her back, and Sam moved to guard the door, his back turned to her so he couldn’t see her half naked. She stared at the wall over him, biting her lip against the pain.
“I’m going to give you shot of morphine before I stitch you up, Ellen,” Doc said.
“No!” She knew she sounded hysterical, but she couldn’t stand the idea of being that out of control with two men she didn’t know well, and a strange man out there determined to kill her.
“We have to do this, Ellen,” he said gently. “I can’t sew you up until I deaden the pain.”
She started to shake her head, but then Clint filled her vision.
“Give her the shot,” he ordered as he paced into the room. At her side, he took her hand, and she couldn’t look away from his eyes. Anger. Such deep, deep anger, but not directed at her. Well, not all of it. And terror. The terror was for her alone. Fear she’d been killed or badly hurt. Fear he couldn’t keep her safe. She gripped his hand in hers, tried to pour all her love down the bond between them. It worked. She saw some of the wildness recede, barely noticed the prick on her back as she clung to Clint’s hand.
Doc waited for the drugs to kick in before examining it again, making sure nothing vital was damaged. He explained it was a minor cut. It needed stitches and would hurt for a few days, but it wasn’t as deep as he’d originally feared. He sewed her up and handed her a bottle of antibiotics and a bottle of pain pills. She barely registered them since Clint was picking her up and carrying her out to his SUV. Anthony hadn’t said a word yet, and he stepped into the driver’s seat while Clint sat with her on his lap on the passenger seat.
Not the safest driving arrangement, but she was floating and dreamy from the morphine shot. Even if she’d had the voice to protest, she didn’t have the will. Especially not with Clint holding her gently, carefully, as if she was the most treasured thing in his world.
It wasn’t a long drive back to HQ. When they arrived, he carried her upstairs and put her to bed. She rolled onto her stomach, and he pulled the covers over her. Leaning down, he kissed her lightly and whispered, “Sleep, baby.”
Chapter Six
When Clint came back downstairs, he found everyone in Anthony’s office, but Sam was the only one he was interested in. He didn’t hesitate as he walked up to the other wolf and slammed him against the wall.
“What the fuck happened to her?” he growled.
Anthony was at his side, the Alpha he could never technically be in his voice. “Sam didn’t do this, Clint. Let him go so he can talk to us.”
His hand tightened around Sam’s throat. The werewolf wanted Ellen as much as Anthony did. Clint had smelled his desire the minute he’d walked into that examining room. What no one seemed to realize was Clint didn’t just act less civilized than them. He was less civilized than they were.
He shook the police chief a little, let his fingers tighten enough to stop his breath for a second before he let go and paced across the room.
“What. Happened,” he demanded, a snarl in his voice. Not even trying to control the wolf. The wolf wanted to tear and rend and exact retribution. The man agreed.
“Anthony called me,” Sam answered, rubbing his neck. Clint already knew that. He’d been sitting right next to him. “Wanted to know if I’d seen Ellen. Asked me to go look for her.”
His voice was raspy, and Clint wondered if he’d really hurt him, but dismissed it as unimportant. Sam would have reacted the same way if it had been his woman.
“She was in the parking lot of the post office when I found her. Some guy, human, was threatening her. He stabbed her and took off.”
The gaze he leveled at Clint was full of understanding and command. “I couldn’t go after him. Our women are too important, and I didn’t know how badly she was hurt.”
As much as Clint wanted the human’s neck in his hands, as disappointed as he was that Sam hadn’t caught him, he did understand. He would have done the same thing. His mate’s safety came first, last, and always.
Knowing all of that didn’t stop the emotions bombarding him. He shook with restrained fury, and it wasn’t all directed at her human attacker. A healthy dose of it was for Ellen. She should never have left the security of the house. She knew she was in danger after the first attack, so why do something so stupid? He wanted to go upstairs and shake her awake to demand answers, but he knew she wasn’t up for that yet.
The others in the room had gone quiet, probably sensing his internal struggle. He glanced at Anthony on his way out of the room. “I’m going for a run.”
There was understanding in the other were’s eyes. He knew Clint was in a killing frame of mind and needed to get rid of some of his aggression before he went to Ellen. While Clint was doing that, the Hunters would guard his mate. He trusted them with her safety, and they wouldn’t let him down again.
He went out the back door, stripped, and left his clothes in a neat, folded pile in a cabinet placed there for exactly that reason. Then he shifted, embracing the animal side of his mind. Body contorted, muscles shrunk, bones popped. It was pain and pleasure, over in mere seconds that felt like eternity. Then he was the wolf.
He took off into the woods behind the mansion and gave the wolf free reign. He ran for a while, but eventually his simmering anger cooled, and he slowed to a walk, exploring woods he hadn’t run in years. He was quietly stalking a rabbit when he caught the alien scent.
Going Hunter still, he searched his other senses. No sounds that shouldn’t be there. No sights out of place. He followed the smell to the fence that marked the Hunters boundary. Someone had climbed over it. Someone who didn’t belong.
He turned and followed the scent back to where he’d started. It went on, deeper into their land, and he tracked it easily. It ended in the tree line behind the house, on the opposite side of where he’d entered the forest. The stranger must have doubled back on his own trail to leave.
Anthony came out the back door and walked to where he stood. Clint shifted. Anthony wouldn’t have come looking for him for no reason.
“Ellen’s up,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at Clint when he spoke. Instead, he was looking around the area, nostrils flared to take in the scent that didn’t belong. When he looked over, his eyes reflected Clint’s fury. “Her attacker was here.”
Nodding, Clint stepped toward the house with Anthony at his side. He’d already figured that out.
“How the fuck did that bastard get in to my territory without my knowing about it?” There was a low snarl embedded in the question.
“When I ran last night, I didn’t come back here.” They’d reached the porch, and he dressed as he spoke. “I stayed near the road.”
“Waiting for us to come back.” Anthony shoved a hand through his hair. In anyone else, it would have been a nervous gesture, but he didn’t look the least bit contrite about the way he’d forced Clint to make his claim real.
“When was the last time someone ran the back of the property?”
“Too long. But that changes now.”
Clint only nodded when what he really wanted to do was flay Anthony alive for getting so complacent he thought no one would come after them here. And the Society pro
bably wouldn’t. But if a human, a human who was very definitely in Clint’s sights now, could get this close, so could a rogue.
He preceded Anthony into the house and went down the long center hall to a comfortable parlor in one of the front rooms of the house. He couldn’t say how, but he knew Ellen would be waiting for him there. Growling low in his throat when he entered, he stalked across the room. He should have realized all the single males in the house would also be there.
Picking her up from the couch, he sat in one of the big, plush chairs with her in his lap. She snuggled against his chest, and his wolf calmed, accepting the affection that was its due. She turned her head up to him and smiling, pressed a kiss to the exposed skin just above the collar of his sweater. His throat closed at the tender gesture, emotion filling him nearly to bursting.
There was a discrete cough, and he looked up. Zachary and Asa were on the sofa, one on each end. Sam was in one of the other chairs, and Anthony in the one next to it. Declan took up the floor, one long leg spread out in front of him, the other pulled up to his chest with a forearm resting on his knee.
“Ready to tell us what happened, babe?” Anthony asked.
He narrowed his eyes at Anthony. “She has a name.”
Anthony just grinned at him and Ellen shifting in his lap, rubbing her ass over his hard cock, distracting him. She wiggled one arm behind him, pushing her hand up under his sweater. The skin-to-skin contact soothed his irritation at Anthony’s use of the endearment. He might want her, but she belonged to Clint.
“It was the same guy. He was also the deliveryman from the diner this morning. I didn’t recognize him because I didn’t see his face that night,” she said, turning her head to look at Anthony. “And he’s definitely human.”
Being human didn’t mean anything to Clint. Technically, humans, unless mated in, were not subject to pack law. He should let human law, human authority, handle this. But he wasn’t going to. When he tracked the man down, he was going to tear his throat out. It might get him exiled from his pack, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the safety of the woman in his arms. And retribution for the harm already done. He met Anthony’s gaze and knew the other werewolf was aware of his plans. And approved. He gave him the slightest nod. No one else even noticed it.
Claiming the Moon Page 4