Primal Force

by D. D. Ayres

  Not knowing exactly where she was, she pulled out her cell phone to look at her GPS. She had one signal bar that kept winking out. That meant she probably couldn’t make a call, either. Not that she had anyone to call. Roadside service wasn’t in her budget. Calling Battise would be too embarrassing. She was supposed to be coming to help him. It wouldn’t be very professional to begin the other way around.

  Muttering, she tucked the phone back into her pocket and got out of her SUV. She was in the hollow of hills surrounded by autumn-striped trees that marched off in all directions. The strip of blacktop, she knew from the printed directions Kelli had given her to Battise’s home, was named High Sky Inn Road. That should have been a warning to stop for gas. The more colorful the name, the more likely the road would be narrow, winding, and a long way from anywhere.

  The sky was a high, clear Ozark Mountain blue, but the radio had earlier been filled with predictions of a potentially dangerous cold front headed toward the area over the weekend. The chill in the air was quickly draining the car heat from her body despite her puffy vest.

  She plunged her hands into her vest pockets as she stared in first one direction and then the other down the empty road. Though she could see a long way, there wasn’t a single house in view. No traffic, either. When had she last passed a service station? Three, five miles ago? She guessed she’d find out because walking for help seemed to be the only option. She checked her SUV, leaving a window cracked for air for Argyle, and headed off.

  She’d walked no more than a dozen yards when she heard a vehicle in the distance coming from the other direction.

  The state trooper car pulling up before her SUV seemed a mixed blessing. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with law enforcement. But she did need help.

  The man who unfolded from behind the wheel was tall and broad, all crisp uniform, mirrored shades, and trooper hat set at an angle of intimidation.

  Jori felt a nudge of unease as she walked back to where he was parked a short distance away. He had paused by his front fender to speak into the radio on his shoulder. As he stood there, she tried to penetrate the impersonal mask formed by the broad brim and opaque shades. Clean rigid jawline, pronounced cheekbones, and a generous pair of lips. Nice-looking man, er, officer. It didn’t stop the jelly feeling in her stomach as she paused within a few yards of him.

  “You got a problem?”

  His voice, pitched low and penetrating, sent a shiver of alarm up her spine. Badge intimidation? Definitely. Yet he sounded familiar. She was just thinking of Battise. That’s what it was! She supposed all overbearing Alpha males sounded the same when in I’m-in-charge mode.

  “You need help?” Obviously he thought she hadn’t heard him.

  She swallowed her unease. She was being ridiculous. “I’m out of gas.” Her tone sounded more defensive than she meant it to be. But she was embarrassed by the stupidity of her mistake.

  “You call roadside service?”

  “Can’t afford it. I was about to walk back to town.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Wherever that is.”

  “You’re about to lose a passenger.” A long blunt-tipped finger pointed past her at her driver’s window.

  She turned just in time to catch the kitten wriggling through the two-inch breathing space. She hugged the fuzzy animal to her chest. “You’re a menace.”

  “Argyle, right?”

  Her head snapped around. The officer watched her with the slightest trace of amusement tugging up one corner of his mouth.

  “Still don’t recognize me? Maybe if I shucked my pants.”

  Her gaze dropped to his legs. The wind was whipping at his pant legs. The left one was suspiciously loose. “Battise?”

  “Officer of the Law, to you.” He pulled off his glasses. That high-grade-crude gaze was unmistakable. But the face was that of a stranger.

  A stranger she’d done the dirty with.

  Oh no, not a good time to think of that. Not when he was looking at her like, like he was the big bad wolf.

  Law watched her trying to absorb his new look. The uniform, the shorter hair, and the lack of a beard. It had taken him a couple of days to stop doing double takes in shop windows after he’d shaved. Yet the look was a reversion to his old self. She was recalculating her opinion of him based on what, for her, was a completely new persona. He didn’t like the way it was adding up in her eyes. Her gaze was guarded, and this time Argyle was fiddling with the end of the braid slung forward over her shoulder.

  He frowned. “You’re staring.”

  “I didn’t expect to see you like this.”

  He rested his hands on either side of his belt, elbows flared. “You mean on the road?”

  “No.” She waved at his patrol car. “The whole law enforcement thing.”

  “What bothers you most? The uniform? Or that I’m wearing it?”

  It wasn’t even close. It was the man himself. She’d wondered what his bushy beard disguised. Now she knew. The man was flat-out gorgeous in a totally rugged male way. She let out a slow breath of admiration, a purely feminine response. Not good. She needed her body to stop reacting to him.

  She tucked Argyle into her vest, needing an excuse to stop staring. “You got your job back. Congratulations.”

  “The chance to pass the physical is next week. After that, I’m back with full duties.” He slanted a speculative gaze down at her. “You could ask me for help.”

  Jori noted the glint in his eye. He was enjoying this.

  She folded her arms across her chest. “I didn’t think law enforcement officers ran errands for civilians.”

  “How about asking a favor from a friend?” It was a flip reply, and she wanted to answer it in kind. But friendship was one thing she’d never considered with this man.

  “We’re friends?”

  “Unless you got a better name for it.” He was looking at her with an expression that said he was considering a few other possibilities. All of them sexual. This was the Battise she remembered.

  The heat rising up her neck and behind her ears betrayed her vulnerability to his potency. Discretion was called for. “Yeah, let’s go with that. Friends.”

  “I live just up the road.” He jerked his thumb back over his shoulder. “I keep a full gas can in my garage. Come on.”

  Jori followed with reluctant steps to his patrol car. By then her goose bumps had goose bumps of anxiety.

  “Where should I sit?”

  Law frowned at her over the hood until reason dawned. She thought he was about to put her in back. She’d probably been in the back of enough squad cars to last her two lifetimes. “Sam’s in the back and she’s very territorial about her space. It’s either the trunk or the front seat with me.”

  Jori smiled. He’d actually made a joke though nothing changed in his face. “I’ll take my chances in front.”

  He grinned at her. The experience was revelatory. Without a beard to cover it, his smile was shark-bright and just as dangerous. It hit her like a shot of tequila. Maybe the trunk was the safer choice.

  She slid into the small passenger side crowded by his computer and other equipment and was immediately accosted from the rear by a wet tongue. “Samantha!”

  Sam had watched her Alpha leave their vehicle with careful eyes. Usually there was no uptick in his pheromones as they rode together. But something had kicked Alpha’s output into high gear. He was shedding emotions. Not anger or fear but excitement of some kind.

  Sam was on alert because he hadn’t let her out to accompany him. Alpha had yet to learn that was her job to be with him, always. But then she spied the WWP trainer through the front windshield and her worry faded.

  Her Alpha was happy to see the Alpha female. Happy was a good place.

  Sam was happy, too. The Alpha female always brought treats and toys. Sam’s whole body wagged with anticipation.

  And then Sam saw it. The cat.

  Sam’s happy dance wiggled down to a squirm. No happy dance for the high-anx
iety feline whose claws were sharper than the veterinarian’s needle. Too bad the Alpha female brought it. Cat was definitely not pack.

  Still, Sam greeted the Alpha woman with a sloppy lick. She would not lick cat.

  Cat hissed when she spied dog.

  “No, not nice.” Jori tucked Argyle deeper into her vest. “Play nice.”

  Argyle just grrrr-oowled low in a strangled cat way that was part snarl, part yowl.

  * * *

  They hadn’t traveled more than two miles when Law turned off High Sky Inn Road onto an even narrower unpaved lane that didn’t have enough room for a center stripe. The patrol car was no sleek machine but a big powerful vehicle that took the sudden rises and sharp turns of the hill country with the souped-up aggression of an armored tank crossing enemy territory.

  “You good?” Law glanced at her with an edgy grin after a particularly sudden swoop in the road left Jori gasping from a sense of free fall.

  “Good.” She gave him a thumbs-up but shut her eyes, feeling that just maybe what she couldn’t see wouldn’t hurt her. He must know what he was doing.

  They came to a sudden stop after the final fifty feet of unpaved road that sent gravel spraying from beneath the tires. Jori opened her eyes.

  She hadn’t given much thought to where Battise might live. Standard apartment in town, whatever that might look like. Or a trailer, maybe. She hadn’t expected that he would live off-road, up a secluded gravel track in the woods. She was looking at an A-frame log cabin perched on a bluff. It was small but neat, with a porch running the width of the front and wrapping around the side toward the rear. A cord of wood cut for the fireplace lay stacked just nearby.

  Law turned to her. “You can come in or wait here while I get the gas.”

  The words were neutral, but the invitation in his eyes was intimate and a dare.

  “I’ll wait.”

  Sam jumped out of the back of the car when Law opened the door and fell into step with him as he climbed the few steps, leading the way. When they reached the porch, Sam suddenly moved in front, barring Law from opening the door.

  Law frowned. “What’s up, Sam?”

  Sam looked up at Alpha and then back at the door. As she did so, he moved to go past her. Sam stood her ground, lowered her head, and braced her front legs. Alpha should not pass.

  Instantly alert, Law reached with his left hand to release the safety holding his gun in his holster.

  “Is something wrong?”

  Law looked back. Jori had exited the car and stood a few yards away.

  “Get back in the car. Now.”

  He didn’t bother to see if his order was obeyed. With his right hand, he unlocked and pushed open the front door.

  “Sam. Search.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Sam moved reluctantly through the door. She wanted to stay beside her Alpha and protect him. Yet this was part of their routine. She did a perimeter search each time they entered this place. However, this time was different. Something had changed. She smelled it. Perhaps he did, too.

  She paused, the fur on her back twitching with tension as she lifted her nose and then lowered her head. Something faint. Very very faint. But real.

  She moved around the room beginning on the right as she went from point to point, window to window, sniffing, studying just as she had practiced for months at Warriors Wolf Pack. All the smells here were ones she’d come to know during the past three weeks. The odors of varnish and aging wood. Fainter still were the aromas of months of cooking, the oil her Alpha used to clean his weapons, the sweet tang of soap, sharp notes of cleanser, old sneakers, ashes, and a thousand other now familiar smells of her new home. She even knew there was a very stale potato chip under the sofa where she couldn’t reach it. She’d tried often enough.

  Once every few feet, she stopped and sniffed the air, looking for a trace of that other. She licked her nose several times, an instinctive action that would improve her ability to capture scent particles. Finally, she caught it. The scent that had made her pause at the entry. She had smelled it only once before, a few days ago.

  She did a quick look back at Alpha. He remained in the doorway. Usually, he walked close behind her when she did the search, holding her leash. But this time he had released her. Even from a distance she could smell the rise of pheromones sliding off him. He must smell it, too. The ugly scent. Anxiety rippled over her back in response.

  “Sam. Search.” Alpha’s voice was high and urgent this time.

  Shivering in anticipation, she turned back to the scent stream in the air, swinging her head from side to side until she had pinpointed the source. It came from the plank-board kitchen table at the far end of the room.

  She hurried over and sniffed. Yes. This was it. She hoovered the chair seat and then the laptop lying closed on the surface. The smell of the man from the Alpha’s office filled her scent glands. A harder shiver rocked through her. Alpha did not like him. She did not like him, either. He had tried to take something from her.

  She sniffed again at the laptop and then sat, looking back over her shoulder at Alpha. He would know what to do.

  * * *

  Law was watching Sam but he was seeing Scud. His thousand-yard stare was extending over miles and ocean and sand, and backward in time.

  The smell of gunfire pricked in his nostrils. The room was flickering, brightening to reveal desert terrain.

  As usual, Scud was itching to go ahead on Law’s order at the first sign of trouble. He barked an order to keep his partner under control. Scud was a stubborn son of a bitch. Just like him. He wanted this takedown so bad he could taste it. But today was a reconnaissance operation. No advance warning to troops.

  Law’s heart jackhammered in anticipation. World’s fucking greatest K-9 team! Fearless. Ferocious. Born fighters.

  But there was danger here. No names. No faces. And no backup. CID didn’t trust even other soldiers on a mission like this.

  They would need to ratchet it down. Keep things quiet until everything was in place.

  “Battise?”

  Jori’s voice sent Law’s head swiveling toward her. She hadn’t moved from the spot he’d last seen her.

  “Are you okay?” Her expression was neutral but her eyes were a little too wide. She back-stepped when he turned his stone-cold warrior expression on her.

  Law watched her with hard eyes, riding the adrenaline surge of his breath moving in and out as reality settled back in around him. Not desert. Mountain. Home. But the danger was real. Sam was real. Sam had alerted to the presense of another, something she’d never done before during their daily perimeter checks.

  “Don’t move again until I tell you to. Got that?” The words were said quietly but with such force he felt them in his chest.

  He waited until she nodded. Her eyes were too wide and her mouth was slack. Not a good way to start their time together. But he had a job to do. He turned and walked inside.

  The main room consisted of a living area with a sofa, TV, and fireplace. His eyes moved systematically left to right as he did a perimeter check of the room. His left hand remained on the handle of his weapon. Above was a loft open to the floor below. Law wasted no time searching there. His focus went to Sam, who still sat beside the table. She wasn’t agitated or looking around in expectation of spying an invader, as even a family pet would do if it suspected a stranger was nearby. Sam’s action was clear. The intruder had had one destination. Law went to the table.

  The only thing there was his laptop. Beyond the dining area, sliding doors led onto a back deck. Could someone have gotten in that way? He checked. A cutoff broom handle lay in the door’s track to prevent it from opening even if unlocked.

  Satisfied that the intruder was gone, Law walked back toward the front door. As he did so, he refocused his attention on Jori. He’d left her standing alone without explanation. He needed to do something about that.

  She stood on the gravel drive where he’d left her. He took a careful b
reath, taking in the details of her for the first time. She wore a blue turtleneck sweater, puffy vest, leggings, and knee-high boots. The briefest sketch of a smile widened his mouth. The boots matched! Then he saw her face. It was pale and pinched. She was afraid. Of him? It hit him like a punch in the gut.

  He stepped onto the porch. “Someone’s been here.”

  “Okay.” She didn’t move, but he saw her gaze shift and fasten on his left hand.

  He looked down at the Sig Sauer in his hand. When had he pulled his weapon? It was an automatic response to a perceived threat. He holstered it and set the safety. He needed to distract her, fast, before she ran screaming for her life.

  “You can come inside.” He made an elaborate gesture of welcome with his hand. “I won’t bite. At least not without an invitation.”

  Jori found she couldn’t return his smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. The shaggy wounded veteran who had come to Warriors Wolf Pack three weeks earlier had been a very bitter, angry man. Now something had shifted that anger into purpose. She could hear it in his voice. See it in the gleam in his eyes. She wasn’t at all certain of its origin. Did it have anything to do with his suspected intruder? Or had he slipped into a place where he made up his own reality? And how was she supposed to handle that? Nothing about that was in the doggy training handbook.

  Once inside she looked around, trying to sound casual. “Did you find any signs of forced entry?”

  He shrugged and wiped at the sweat at the back of his neck from the adrenaline rush of moments before. “I don’t always lock my door. I’ve nothing here I care about.”

  She would have cared if she’d lost the laptop she spied on the table. But that didn’t seem a tactful thing to point out just now. “Could it have been kids messing around?”

  Law moved to check his kitchen, even opened the refrigerator. “Not kids. They would’ve eaten something. Drunk my beer. Trashed the place looking for money and weapons. Meth heads would have taken the computer to fence. This person wanted something specific. He didn’t mean to leave a trail.”