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The Artist Cries Wolf

Page 12

by Heather Horrocks


  She took a step backward, prepared to turn and run.

  “I can’t stand your man, but I like you, even though you hit me on the head.” He patted the top of his head ruefully. “The Troll Council said we’re supposed to protect you while you’re in town.”

  “Why would they do that?” she asked suspiciously.

  He bowed partway down in a respectful — and surprisingly graceful — manner. “Our Minister has ordered it. I, especially, have been taxed with your safety while you are here within the town limits as penance for attacking you.”

  “How do I know that’s true?”

  He sighed, a huge movement of air. “By giving you my true name, which you can use at any time to summon me.”

  True name? Samuel had said a troll never gave that out, unless ordered by the minister.

  “I am Henry Scorchbottom and I am at your service, Mistress Newman.”

  That was a quaint way to phrase it. And it had the ring of truth to it. Enough so that she felt chills race along her arms, almost as if she could feel the magic that the true name invoked.

  “That is very charming,” she said, deciding that the troll was truly offering to protect her. “I accept your protection, Henry Scorchbottom.”

  He bowed his head again. “I will join you in your walk to the outskirts of town. I cannot enter into town, but have been given permission to walk the outskirts.”

  “Good enough.” She shifted her backpack and strode out again toward the highway.

  “You smell of trouble,” Henry said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He tapped his nose. “My talent is to smell trouble — and you smell of trouble.” He shrugged his gigantic shoulders. “It could mean you might hit me on the head again. Or not. Maybe you’re in trouble.” He shrugged. “My talent doesn’t help much, does it?”

  She shook her head. She certainly had heart trouble. And crazy stepfather trouble.

  She walked toward the town limit sign — the same sign she’d seen when entering the town in the minivan.

  The troll hung back and shook his head. “I can go no farther, Mistress Newman. We must turn back.”

  She looked up at him. “I thank you for your protection, Sir Henry, but I must leave town now. I have some bear spray in my pocket for protection.”

  “I wish you would stay,” Henry said sadly. “This is the first assignment I’ve been entrusted with by the Troll Council. Ever.”

  “I’m sorry. Perhaps they’ll give you another...?”

  “Not for twenty years. That’s the penance for failing.” He sighed. “Go in safety, human trouble.”

  “Thank you.” Then she did something she never thought she’d do — she patted the arm of a troll.

  Yuck. He felt slimy, kind of like a snail. She pulled back her hand without jerking it back, which took a supreme act of will.

  “You touched me!” His eyes widened in wonder. “A human has never before touched me.”

  “Goodbye, Henry Scorchbottom.”

  He raised his arm. “I will remember you always, Mistress Newman.”

  She waved at him and turned to go. As she walked, she reached in her pocket for the canister of bear spray. She’d keep it handy, just in case.

  She walked on. The heat of the day was beginning to fade as the sun began its descent over the horizon, but it was still plenty warm.

  She’d nearly reached the freeway on-ramp when she heard a car slow down. Thankful, she turned around to see a plumber’s-type van pull to her side.

  The driver, who she couldn't see clearly, leaned over and pushed open the door. She started to climb in when she looked at the man’s face.

  Keith!

  Her stepfather had found her!

  She’d Never Heard Anything More Beautiful

  AMBER STARTED TO PULL THE bear spray canister from her pocket, but she hadn’t gotten it out before Keith shot her with some sort of gun, and something slammed into her.

  She looked down at her chest. A needle. He’d shot her with a needle. There was a burning sensation expanding out from the puncture site.

  As she reached down and pulled it out, her legs grew wobbly and her vision swam. Whatever he’d shot her with was incredibly fast-acting.

  She heard Keith open his door. A moment later, he was at her side. “Be careful, Rebecca, my love.”

  She tried to push him away, but her arms were like noodles and her legs were beginning to give out beneath her.

  “Let me help you in, sweetheart.”

  He slid open the side panel, lifted her, and laid her on the floor of the van. A white-panel van like serial killers use. Why hadn’t she realized that before?

  He clicked a handcuff on her wrist, and then attached the other to the side of the van. Then he tenderly covered her with a light blanket, and caressed her cheek.

  “I’m going to take you home now, darling. Just sleep and relax. I’ll get us there safely.”

  She had to escape — but she couldn’t even move her arm.

  Things were getting blurry.

  And then everything went dark.

  “Troll on the outskirts of town,” Mary Beth’s voice came out of the radio. “Toward the freeway.”

  A troll? Sam didn’t like the sound of that — especially since he suspected that’s the direction Amber had taken.

  Sam fingered the radio. “I’ll check it out.”

  He turned onto Mane Street and turned left toward the freeway. He put on his siren and pulled out fast.

  It took him only five minutes to find the troll. It was the same one who’d attacked him and Amber before. Had he found Amber and harmed her now?

  Sam slammed on his brakes, his squad car screeching to a halt. He jumped out and aimed his service gun at the troll. “Have you seen Amber Newman? Have you harmed her?”

  The troll scowled at him, his jowls shaking. Then he roared in anger and threw himself at Sam.

  Sam fired, but the troll didn’t seem to notice. He slammed his fist down and Sam barely missed being smashed. He spun to the side, pulled out his Taser — the troll version — and shot a needle into the troll.

  The large body jerked and shuddered and then lay still. “Ow. You jerk.”

  “Did you hurt her?”

  “Stupid werewolf, I am the human’s official Protector.”

  “Protector? That hasn’t happened for decades.”

  “Check with the Council.”

  Stunned, Samuel said, “The Council assigned you as her Protector?”

  “Yes.”

  Holy crap. “Sorry for the tazing, then. Have you seen her?”

  “Yes. I protected her until she left the city limits. I am not authorized to leave Moonchuckle Bay unless I am going to the Knoll.”

  “She’s in danger,” Sam said. “I’ve got to find her.”

  “A man put her in a van. I tried to run to help her, but I couldn't run through the city limits. I was constrained.”

  A van? They could be miles away already. He sighed. “You didn’t happen to get the license plate number, did you?”

  The troll nodded his massive head, and, like a savant, rattled off a number.

  Sam stared at him in disbelief. The troll sniffed in disdain. “Despite what you believe, trolls are not stupid.”

  But they were definitely proud.

  “Okay. Which direction did the van get on the freeway?”

  “Not until you say it,” the troll said.

  Anything for Amber. “Trolls are not stupid. You’ve proven that. Thank you.”

  The troll pointed south, and Sam sprinted for his patrol car. As he spun out, he radioed Mary Beth and asked her to put out an APB on the van and on Amber’s stepfather. Then he told Mary Beth the troll’s status as Protector.

  He turned back to the troll. “Does your role as Amber’s protector extend to protecting me while I shift in daylight if I am doing so to protect Amber?”

  The troll rolled his eyes, but nodded and lumbered over. He stood, hiding
Sam, as he shifted into his wolf.

  The van stopped and Amber heard the door open and slam shut.

  Wake up, she told herself. Wake up, wake up, wake up.

  She had to fight him. That was her only hope of getting away. No one had seen him take her. She doubted even Henry the troll had noticed as he lumbered back toward the Knoll.

  She tugged on the handcuff and found that the strength in her arm had finally returned. She wasn’t back to normal, but she was regaining movement. She wasn’t sure if she would be fast enough but still, she had to try.

  Just in time. He was coming for her.

  Her heart pounded. She had to get enough movement so that she could reach in her pocket and use the bear spray on him.

  The door slid open, and Keith filled the entrance.

  Revulsion hit her — and fear. Adrenaline flooded her system and she could still barely move.

  “You’re awake.” His voice was gentle, loving — and creepy as all get out!

  He patted her arm, then retrieved the key to the handcuffs from his pocket.

  He was going to free her. Good, then she could fight back.

  Except she still barely had movement in her limbs.

  He took the handcuffs off, and gently rubbed her wrist, murmuring, “Poor baby.”

  She had to get out of the van.

  She struggled to sit up, and he helped her. “Rebecca, we’re going to be so happy; just like we used to be.”

  She barely resisted gagging at both his touch and his words, and stood on wobbly legs.

  “There. You’re doing much better already, honey.”

  He took hold of her arm, and she shook him off. Barely. Her body was still too drugged to obey her will.

  “Just quit fighting me, honey.” Keith’s voice was sweet, like he used to talk to Amber’s mother before her death.

  She lifted a hand and managed to slap him. He scowled and punched her in the shoulder, knocking her to the ground.

  Ow.

  “Look what you made me do, Rebecca.” Immediately contrite, Keith leaned down and helped her back up, helping her to sit on the edge of the van, in the door opening.

  She stared at the demented hope in his eyes.

  She couldn’t fight him off; that much was clear. She could barely stand, so unless she raised her hand and formed a fist and he threw himself on it, fighting wasn’t going to work.

  But she had to do something. Something else. Though the thought repulsed her, she knew that until she could regain her strength, she was going to have to play along.

  Pushing down her revulsion, Amber forced what she was sure was a sick smile. “You’ve come to get me, Keith,” she said, as if she were her mother. Gag. Retch. Barf. “So we can be together again.”

  His face lit in a happy grin. “Oh, Rebecca, my darling.”

  He sat beside her and wrapped her in his arms. It was all she could do to not pass out from his body odor — or the fact that she was trapped with him. “Let me bring you into the front seat, honey. It will be a lot more comfortable for you riding up with me.” He grinned slyly and winked at her. “We can save the handcuffs for later. Just for fun.”

  A howl sounded in the dusk and Keith stiffened, releasing her. “Darn wolves. I’ve got my shotgun, but we’d still better get you in the van so you can be safe.”

  The wolf howled again, sounding angry, if that was possible. If that was Sam, it was definitely possible.

  She’d never heard anything more beautiful.

  Keith was going to be in so much trouble now.

  She moved her hand toward her pocket and fumbled to unzip it. Maybe she could help take Keith out.

  Pull Up Your Big-Werewolf Pants

  AS SAMUEL RAN, HE PUSHED himself as fast as he could go. He rapidly covered the miles as he followed Amber’s scent, faint in the air but growing stronger with each stride. Sam howled again.

  As he flew over the crest of the hill, he saw her. Her stepfather was helping her — pushing her — into the front of the van. She looked uncoordinated.

  The lunatic must have drugged her. He was going to pay for what he’d done to her — he was a dead man walking.

  After putting Amber in the front seat he pulled the sliding door of the van closed. As he turned, he caught sight of Samuel’s wolf, and he blanched. He stood frozen for an instant, and then started running around the van to the driver’s side, where he’d left the door open.

  He should have gotten in the back of the van.

  Samuel’s wolf grinned.

  The man didn’t even make it around the front of the van before Samuel was nearly upon him.

  He must have realized it, because he spun and lifted a large stone and threw it at Samuel.

  It struck Sam on his shoulder but he barely registered the sting. Nothing was going to stop Samuel’s wolf from reclaiming his mate.

  Keith Irwin spun and grabbed something from the van. Turning back, he raised a shotgun.

  Limping slightly from the stone, Samuel landed and sprang, knocking the shotgun back and up.

  It went off, and then it was on the ground. And so was Keith. In an instant, Sam was upon him, gripping his shirt and ripping it.

  Keith put up his arms in a futile attempt to protect himself. “Rebecca, help me!”

  Those words were the only thing that saved his life. Because in them, Samuel heard the longing for his real mate. Amber’s mother had died, and it damaged this man to the extent that his sick mind had smothered the reality of losing her.

  He snarled at the man and Keith wet his pants.

  In the distance, a siren sounded. Good. Vera Rose had sent the cavalry. He just needed to keep Keith on the ground until then, which he could easily do.

  He had to make sure Amber was all right.

  Leaving Keith blubbering on the ground, Samuel’s wolf sprang into the driver’s seat, and over to where Amber sat. He licked her face. She didn’t smell quite right — she reeked of Keith and whatever drug he’d given her — but she rubbed his furry jaw and murmured, “I’m all right.”

  A patrol car pulled up behind the van. Quickly and expertly, Larry Knight and Tabitha Jones had Keith up, handcuffed, and in the back of the patrol car.

  His mate was safe. Samuel’s wolf licked her face again.

  Relief washed over Amber, and she wrapped her arms around Samuel’s beautiful black wolf, holding him as tightly as she could manage, which still wasn’t very tight.

  He nudged her and she whispered, “I’m all right,” again.

  The door next to her opened and she recognized one of the other deputies, Larry. He grinned at the sight. “Aww. Samuel’s found his mate,” he said. “How sweet.” But he sounded quite serious.

  Samuel’s wolf revealed his teeth.

  “Back off, Sam.” Larry turned to her. “Are you all right, Miss Newman?”

  She nodded. “He drugged me. It hasn’t quite worn off yet.”

  “We’re going to take him away now. I just thought you’d like to know that he won’t be going through the normal legal system.”

  Samuel’s wolf watched Larry intently. The other man grinned. “The trolls have requested that he be placed in their custody for non-payment to the troll who attacked you.”

  “Will they hurt him?”

  “Nah. But he won’t be escaping from their magical jail anytime soon.”

  “Ever?” she asked.

  “Ever.” He smiled and touched her shoulder.

  Samuel growled.

  Larry’s smile stretched into a wide grin. “Don’t bite me. Your mate is lovely, but I’m not going to try and win her over. She’s all yours. I’ll be seeing you around, Miss Newman. I have an ambulance coming and they’ll be here to help you in about five minutes. And Samuel, pull in your fangs, dude. I’m leaving a change of clothes for you on the driver’s seat next to your big fuzzy butt, in case you need them, it being the full moon and all and you being so in love.”

  He shut the van doors quietly.

  A
s soon as they were alone, Amber started to cry. In relief. In pain. In love.

  Finally, she was safe.

  Sam had protected her.

  And Adam had protected her, even from beyond the grave, by asking Sam to take care of her.

  The paramedics drove Amber to the hospital and Samuel, back in his human form, rode in the back with her, refusing to leave her side.

  He hated hospitals. The smells were too much for his werewolf nose, but he wasn’t about to leave Amber’s side again.

  Dr. Ben Johnson was taking her vital signs and asking her questions. Ben was a supernatural and handled the special cases. Finally, Ben looked at the two of them and then turned to Amber, saying kindly, “You should be all right in a few hours. He’s admitted to giving you GHB. Gamma-hydroxybutyric acid. That’s a date rape drug. He gave you a low dose, which is why you’re coming around as quickly as you are. It will wear off with no ill effects other than you’ll probably be tired for the rest of the day.”

  “Can she come home now?” Samuel asked impatiently.

  The doctor smiled. “Yes, Samuel. I’ll release her to you.”

  Relief made Samuel quiet for a moment, but he nodded his thanks.

  The doctor patted Amber’s arm and then left to continue his rounds.

  Samuel rolled his chair up next to the bed on which Amber was lying. He took her hand and she squeezed it — with more strength than she’d hugged him in the van. She was recovering from the effects of the drug already.

  “I just want you to know a couple of things about me,” Samuel told her.

  She smiled up at him, happy he was here with her, that she’d survived, and that Keith would never bother her again. “All right.”

  “First, I am not leaving your side for a very long time.” He scowled. “Possibly forever.”

  “Good.”

  “And I don’t want you leaving my side. Please stay with me, Amber.”

  She nodded and blinked back tears. She wanted to be with him. “What will your mother say?”

  “I don’t care.” He blew out a long breath and kissed her hand. “I was so afraid I’d lost you. I couldn’t take it. My wolf was crazy with grief and determined to find you. And so was I. Amber, I need you with me. Always.”

 

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