Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1)

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Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1) Page 18

by Christine DePetrillo


  Crawling to the door might be better anyway.

  Reardon slid noiselessly to the floor and used his arms mostly to slither to the front door. By the time he got there, his forehead was covered in sweat and he’d bunched up the long rug Brandy had lining the path to the door. Doing his best to fix the rug, he grabbed hold of the doorknob and pulled himself to standing. He caught sight of an umbrella in a bin by the door and fished that out, using it as a cane. It probably wasn’t strong enough, but he put as much of his weight on it as he could.

  With the prowess of a professional burglar, he opened the door and slipped out into the darkness. His progress to the entrance gates was slow and laborious. Several of the other wolves gathered behind him as he struggled. Lug sidled up next to him, Midir on his other side. They nudged his hands as if to say, Lean on us.

  “If you were a little bit bigger, I would. Thank you, my friends.” He paused to catch his breath and scratched both wolves between the ears.

  Lug licked at the bandage, a small whine escaping his throat.

  “I’ll be fine, Lug.”

  The other wolves took turns rubbing against him, their concern touching him in ways he couldn’t have imagined. He’d never had a pack. He’d had his army of men, but that was not the same as having a loyal wolf pack, canine brothers and sisters who genuinely cared for him. Perhaps in changing his men to wolves, that was what he’d been looking for—a wolf family. Unfortunately, he now knew turning men to wolves without their consent did not create the bonds he sought.

  Only wolves by birth could provide that connection.

  Not so, wolf. Flidae again. Couldn’t he have a moment’s peace? There is but one human you can turn to wolf who would be truly connected to you. That is why you can turn humans. For that reason alone. To find your soul mate.

  And that was why he’d been in violation of wolf code. He’d turned men into wolves to make killing machines.

  Ah, recognition of your mistake. That is progress, wolf. Again, Flidae faded from his mind.

  One moment the goddess was angry at him, the next she sounded pleased. That was why Reardon found females—human or divine—so complex. Regardless, the woman back in that log cabin was worth the trouble, so he continued his approach to the entrance gates.

  A quiet but steady hum vibrated from the gates. It was a new sound to Reardon, and the other wolves appeared to hear it too, but he unlatched the gates anyway and paused to address the wolves.

  “I will be back in a moment, friends.”

  He closed the gate, got to the ground, and shifted to wolf form. He could at least jog on three legs through the woods to get to his supplies and speed things up a bit.

  When he was dressed in his jeans and a gray T-shirt, his injured leg bandaged beneath the denim, Reardon used the umbrella and limped heavily back to the entrance gates. That humming noise was still present, but he couldn’t sense where it was coming from. The other wolves waited for him, their loyalty and concern touching Reardon in ways he didn’t think possible.

  After opening the gates and coming back into the sanctuary, he ambled to the log cabin. The sky was dark and morning was still several hours away. Reardon circled around to the back of the house and sat in one of the patio lounge chairs where he and Brandy had enjoyed each other’s company last night.

  Figuring he’d wait for morning there, he stretched out his legs, easing the pressure off his hurt one. He set the umbrella down on the patio beside the chair and let out a quiet chuckle when all fifteen of the wolves spread out on the ground abutting the patio. Like a protective circle, their energy surrounded him and he wondered if they truly knew what he was. That he was like them, but not. They appeared to understand and it warmed him to know he had that connection with them. Though he didn’t belong in this time and place, he didn’t feel alone. Not like he often had in his life before this point.

  When Reardon opened his eyes next, morning sun embraced him. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and turned a highly tuned ear toward the log cabin behind him. He immediately picked up the sounds of water running through pipes and imagined Brandy taking a shower. That image made parts of him awaken as he pictured her lovely, naked form covered in water droplets.

  He listened until the water noises stopped. At that point, he reached down, grabbed the umbrella, and got to his feet. He tested his injured leg and found it to be tender but not as bad as it had been last night. In fact, he took a few steps away from the lounge chair without incident or cringing in agony.

  The upside to being a werewolf. While he knew the wound was still healing, the bulk of the mending had happened while he was asleep. In the next two days or so, the injury would be totally gone save for a slight scar. Scars always lingered… as reminders he supposed.

  Reardon set the umbrella on the lounge chair and made his way to the front door of the cabin. Some of the wolves followed him while others continued their early sunbathing. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, Dylan came running over with Meredith a few steps behind him.

  “Hey, Reardon!” the boy said, his face full of a delight that made Reardon’s heart swell.

  “Good morning, Dylan.” Reardon couldn’t help smiling back at the boy.

  “Are you coming over for breakfast?” Dylan asked.

  Reardon hesitated and Meredith filled the silence. “Of course he is. Doesn’t he look like a man who knows breakfast is the best meal of the day?”

  Dylan squinted up at him, sunshine illuminating the boy’s face. “He looks like a man who thinks all meals are the best.”

  Meredith laughed. “Good call, kid.” She put her arm around the boy’s shoulders and looked at Reardon, a squinty-eyed expression on her face similar to Dylan’s. “Did you get held up last night somehow?”

  So Meredith knows. And from the firm set of her lips, she wasn’t happy he hadn’t shown last night either. Of course she wasn’t. She didn’t want to see her daughter hurt anymore than Reardon did.

  “I did. I’ve come to apologize.” He wished he had some flowers or other gift to enhance his apology.

  Meredith walked past him and opened the front door. As Dylan raced in, she looked over her shoulder at Reardon. “Better be a damn good apology, sir.”

  She motioned for him to go into the cabin ahead of her and he figured that was a good sign. At least she hadn’t told him to leave. She believed he should have the opportunity to make up for his no-show.

  The question was…did Brandy?

  “Hey, Mom!” Dylan called out as he ran into the living room.

  Reardon held his breath as the boy skidded to a halt and took in the empty wolf bed. Reardon had planned to talk to Brandy alone. Now he had an audience of one boy and one grandmother. He wasn’t exactly ready for that.

  “Where’s Alator?” Dylan shot into the kitchen, the dining room, and back to the living room while Reardon stood there, searching his mind for an acceptable story for a missing wolf.

  “He couldn’t have gotten too far,” Meredith said. “That leg of his has to be hurting.”

  Not as much as you’d think. Standing as he was now, Reardon did his best to keep most of his weight on his right leg as he leaned against the living room doorway.

  “MOM!” Dylan ran for the stairs, but Reardon could smell Brandy on her way down.

  Gods, she smells wonderful. A fragrant mix of flowers he wanted to bury his nose in and inhale for an eternity.

  But eternity with Brandy wasn’t his. He knew this. He had to hurry the hell up and tell her his secrets before time ran out.

  “Why hello, son.” Brandy’s voice plucked chords deep inside Reardon and he closed his eyes, relishing the sensations. “What’s all the noise about?”

  “Where’s Alator?”

  “In the living room,” Brandy said.

  “No, he’s not there.” Meredith had stepped into the hall between the front door and the stairs so she could see Brandy.

  Reardon could not see her, which meant she could not see him. He
stood stone still, wishing he had a better engineered plan.

  “Alator’s not here, but someone else is.” Meredith gave Reardon a wink. “C’mon, Dylan. Let’s get some French toast started.” She nodded at Reardon, and he loved the woman for taking it easy on him.

  Brandy came around the corner and stopped short at the sight of him. “Oh.” The word escaped on a breath and he couldn’t help grinning a little. When her eyes narrowed, however, he knew to wipe that grin off immediately.

  “Hello.” He met her gaze and held it, but the shame of not showing up last night—in the way that she’d expected him to—made him look to the floor.

  “Hello? That’s your opening? Hello?”

  He was in more trouble than he’d imagined.

  “Brandy, please allow me to explain.” Although I’m not sure how to.

  She folded her arms across her chest. Her bosom plumped under her tank top and Reardon had to force himself not to moan his appreciation. That would score him no points right now and he needed points.

  “Well, go ahead,” she said. “Explain. I can’t wait to hear this one.”

  He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t say anything when Brandy walked around him and entered the living room. She took one look at the empty wolf bed and said, “Where’s Alator?”

  Right here.

  “I don’t know,” he said instead.

  Brandy marched into the kitchen where Dylan and Meredith were pulling out the necessary ingredients for breakfast. “Where’s Alator?”

  Dylan closed the refrigerator and placed the carton of eggs he’d been holding onto the counter. “I already asked that, but I figured you had him upstairs. You don’t?”

  “I couldn’t carry him up there, sweetie. He’s a big wolf. I’m a strong woman, but not that strong.” She checked the dining room, ducking to look under the table, and went back to the living room. “I don’t understand. I left him in the living room last night. He was on the bed.”

  “Maybe he got out of the house somehow,” Meredith offered.

  “Should we go look for him?” Dylan asked as he put the eggs back in the refrigerator.

  “Yes,” Brandy said.

  “No,” Reardon said at the same time.

  Brandy whirled around to face him. “What do you mean no? One of my wolves is missing. One of my injured wolves is missing. We have to find him. And you don’t get a say in what hap—”

  Reardon stepped forward and put his hands on Brandy’s shoulders. “I really need to get my explanation in before you go on a full-scale wolf hunt.”

  “Oh, you need to, huh?” Her words were laced with an attitude that wasn’t altogether friendly. She shrugged out of his grip and took a step closer. “I needed you to show up last night.” Her voice was low and a little bit lethal.

  She’s got fire. I’ll give her that, Flidae said in Reardon’s head.

  Aye, fire. And didn’t he love that about her?

  “Listen, let me talk to you privately for a few moments. Things will make sense after that.” Or they’ll sound crazy. Either way, he had to tell her what he was so she wouldn’t go on a search for Alator.

  “I might—might—let you talk to me,” she said, “after I find Alator.” She brushed past him and left through the front door.

  Reardon caught up to her and was about to insist again that they talk, but Parker was out there, the rifle in his hands pointed at Reardon.

  “Don’t move.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Park? What in the hell are you doing? Put the gun down. We’ve had enough gun encounters with Hank.”

  When Brandy got about a foot away from Parker, her friend reached out and grabbed her. He jerked her to a position behind him, making her yelp in surprise, and kept the gun aimed on Reardon.

  “Parker?” A curl of something—fear, maybe—uncoiled inside Brandy. It was not in Parker’s nature to tote a gun unless it was a tranq gun or have such a fierce look on his normally friendly face. “What is going on?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s ask this…this guy.” Parker motioned to Reardon with the nose of the rifle.

  “Please,” Reardon said. “If I could have a word with Brandy—”

  “You’re not having anything with Brandy, buddy. You understand me?” Parker took a few steps closer. “Get on the ground.”

  “Should I call the police?” Meredith kept Dylan at her side, a little bit behind her, and gaped at Parker with wide eyes.

  “Yes,” Parker said.

  “No,” Reardon said at the same time.

  “You keep answering questions that are not for you.” Brandy stepped out from behind Parker, but he tugged her back by her tank top, and she almost stumbled.

  “Do not go near him… whatever he is.” Parker’s grip tightened on the rifle and for a moment Brandy expected him to squeeze off a shot.

  “Parker, I don’t understand what’s happening.” And now I’m kind of all out afraid. Which she did not like at all. Being mad at Reardon for not showing up last night was trivial compared to the level of fear rising up inside her now.

  “If you’d let me talk to you privately, Brandy, I think things will get clearer.” Reardon’s green-gold gaze beseeched her, and she fell under its spell. As upset as she was about him standing her up, she couldn’t deny what looking at him did to her body. In a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt that hugged his perfect physique in all the right places, what was a girl to do but want some? Maybe a great deal more than some.

  No. Stay strong. He jerked you around last night. He can’t get away with that.

  “Brandy is not spending another second alone with you, Reardon… what the hell is your last name anyway?” Parker poked the rifle in the air between himself and Reardon.

  “I’ll be happy to tell Brandy if you let me talk to her.” Reardon folded his arms across his chest, looking very intimidating, and for the first time, Brandy realized Reardon could probably crush Parker if he wanted to.

  She couldn’t let that happen.

  “Let me hear what he was to say, Park. I’ll be fine.” Again, she stepped out from behind Parker.

  “Look at this first.” Parker reached his hand to his back pocket and extracted his cell phone. He pushed it into her hands. “Go to the security camera app.”

  “I can look at this later.” She wiggled the phone between their faces. “Right now, I want to hear what Reardon thinks is so important that I hear. The sooner I hear it the sooner I can tell him to leave.”

  A pained look flitted across Reardon’s face when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Brandy couldn’t tell if her words had caused that expression or if he hurt physically somewhere.

  Shit. What if he didn’t show because he was in an accident of some kind? Maybe he’d gone straight to the hospital and hadn’t needed an ambulance. Colleen wouldn’t have had a record if that had been the case. This notion made her regret the cold shoulder she was giving him.

  “Reardon, are you okay?”

  “Is he okay? Is he okay?” Parker’s voice had risen in volume and pitch. “Open the damn security camera app, B. Please.” He pointed at Meredith who hadn’t moved with Dylan still glued to her side. “Call the police, Meredith. Do it.”

  Meredith ushered Dylan inside as Brandy focused on Parker’s phone. She hit the security camera app, wondering what in the hell was going on. She was about to tell Reardon to start reciting his story of where he was last night, but a grainy, dark image wavered on Parker’s phone, garnering her attention.

  “What am I seeing here?” She turned the phone to get the landscape view and brought it closer to her face.

  “Keep watching. You’ll see it in a minute.” Parker took a few steps toward Reardon. “Get on the ground. Now.”

  Slowly, Reardon lowered to his knees, another wince scrunching up his features. He held his hands out to his sides in a universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

  “Parker, aren’t you going a little overboard here? He only stood me u
p. He didn’t actually hurt me or anything.” She loved Parker for being so protective, but this was too much. She’d never seen him be… well, crazy.

  “Keep watching that screen, B.” He didn’t turn to look at her, as if all his attention was laser-focused on Reardon.

  Brandy squinted at the phone in her hands. The clarity had improved a little though the footage was in that blue-black night vision lighting. She made out the images of several wolves around the entrance gate. Someone was leading them.

  Someone tall.

  Someone male.

  Someone naked aside from a bandage around his left calf.

  Someone who the wolves were rubbing against as if they knew this person.

  “Who…” Her voice fell away as the naked man faced the wolves and she recognized the rugged, bearded, handsome face. She shot her gaze to Reardon. “Why—?”

  “Keep watching,” Parker insisted.

  She focused back on the screen and let out a gasp when the man, now on the other side of the entrance gates, got to the ground and changed into… into a huge, black wolf.

  Alator?

  The phone slipped from her fingers and bounced on the dirt between her feet.

  “Fucked up, right?” Parker kept the gun on Reardon, but reached down for his phone. He dusted it off on his T-shirt and shoved it back into his pocket.

  Brandy stood there with her mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. What she’d seen on the phone had literally taken her breath away. The woods spun around her and she blinked rapidly, fighting off the waves of dizziness cresting over her. Rising up. Crashing. Rising up. Crashing. She couldn’t get any air into her lungs.

  Black spots danced at the edges of her vision and she knew she was going down. As much as she didn’t want to pass out, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  She’d just seen a man turn into a wolf. This man. The one on his knees at gunpoint in front of her this very moment. The one she’d slept with.

  Oh, God…

  She hit the ground. The last thing she heard was Parker and Reardon both calling her name.

 

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