She heard another shot and then Addison’s loud yell abruptly cut off. She looked to see the wolf had his jaws clamped around the man’s throat, lips drawn back over gleaming teeth covered in blood, nose wrinkled as he bore down in a death grip.
Addison struggled weakly. Pressing the gun against the wolf’s rib cage, he pulled the trigger. Then again.
Declan’s yelp slid into in a deep growl. He shook his head, making Addison’s head flop back and forth. After only a few seconds, Addison dropped his hand and went still.
The wolf stayed where he was, still gripping the man’s throat, his growl low and menacing, for several more moments. Then he raised his head and, lifting his blood-covered muzzle to the sky, let loose a howl that made the hair on the back of Pelicia’s neck stand on end.
When the howl ended, that massive head swung her way.
Keeping one eye on the bomb strapped to her boobs and another on the very big wolf that now stood at the entrance to the barrow, Pelicia struggled to a sitting position. “Um, Declan?” She cleared her throat. “Um…nice doggy?”
His eyebrows twitched above those expressive eyes in what she would have sworn was a frown. He chuffed a sigh and then yipped a couple of times.
She chanced a look at Addison. Blood covered his throat, glistening in the bright light of the full moon.
Part of her felt sorry for him, tried to understand the despair and hatred that had driven him to this, but another part of her—a very large part—was glad he was dead. He’d killed at least four people. Even if he’d killed just Brenna, his death in exchange wouldn’t have been enough. She’d prefer he spend the rest of his miserable life in the deepest, darkest hole available.
But if this was all she’d get, she’d take it.
Declan swished his tail back and forth and walked forward.
Pelicia took a breath and forced herself to stay still, though she wanted to skitter away from him. As if sensing her fear, he slowed and came to a stop a little over a meter away. His tongue swiped along his lips, washing away most of the remaining blood.
She just hoped he wasn’t still hungry. Or whatever….
When it appeared that he was going to stay put, she looked down at her chest. “He said to cut the blue wire,” she murmured to herself. “But I don’t trust him. Just because he thought his plan might not work after all…” She looked up at Declan. That eerie intelligence still shone in his eyes, making her believe that Declan was still there, that he hadn’t been completely overtaken by animal instinct. Whether he could understand her was something else. “Well, it doesn’t mean he was telling the truth, right?”
He whined.
“So, if it’s not the blue wire, which one would it be?”
The wolf whined again.
Her knight in shining armor was looking a bit tarnished. Actually, a bit furry. Well, to be completely accurate, very furry. She sighed. “I’ve said it before, O’Connell—your timing sucks.”
He barked.
“God, Declan. What am I supposed to do?” She maneuvered her legs around until she could get on her knees. She picked up the flashlight and, watching him closely, started crawling toward the entrance of the burial chamber, slow going while holding the flashlight in her bound hands. “I need to see where we are.”
He woofed and backed up several steps, giving her room to scuttle out of the barrow.
Once outside the confined space, she slowly got to her feet, carefully stretching the kinks out of her back. Then she looked around, trying to figure out where exactly they were. Toward the south she could make out the lights from Hugh Town and realized they were on one of the smaller uninhabited islands that dotted the ocean around the larger isles.
And time was running out.
She took a deep breath and held it, staring at Addison’s body. She had to get his mobile so she could call the police and get someone out here who could take this damned bomb off her.
She didn’t want to touch him. She’d never touched a corpse in her life and she wasn’t crazy about doing so now.
But she needed that phone.
Or…she could cut the wire herself with that big knife.
She walked over to Addison and knelt by his side. Reaching out, she pulled the knife free from its scabbard and then glanced at Declan. “He said the blue wire, right?”
Declan whined and shook his head.
“I’ll take that as a no.” As much as she wanted to sit here and scream until she was hoarse, she needed to stay calm. Once the bomb was safely away from her, then she’d scream herself silly. “Okay. Let me think a minute.”
He barked. Walking over to her, he bent and nosed the mobile phone attached to Addison’s belt. When she made no move to take it, he barked again, louder this time.
“All right, I get it. You want me to make a phone call. Just…be quiet and let me think, Cujo.”
He backed off a few steps and sat down, watching her with those alert amber eyes.
Pelicia stared at the phone. If she called for help—which she realized was the prudent thing to do—police would swarm the place within half an hour. She glanced down at the timer on the bomb. That would give the police less than an hour to diffuse the bomb.
And if they didn’t have a bomb expert in the group from the mainland, she’d be screwed.
But if they came now, they’d either find a large wolf with her—which would be quite difficult to explain—or they’d find her alone and wonder where Declan was. Plus there was the fact that when he shifted back to human form he’d be completely naked—and how the bloody hell would they explain that?
Of course, she could claim that the wolf…no, the big dog had attacked Addison in order to keep him from shooting her. Which wasn’t a lie. But, still, she wanted to protect Declan.
Which left…the bomb.
“All right.” She stared at Declan. He tipped his head to one side, studying her. It was all so surreal—she fought back the feeling that she was ready to zone out, though being a zombie would fit right in with having a werewolf at her side. She wiped at the sweat on her upper lip. “Let’s play canine charades, shall we?”
He chuffed and moved forward, alertness portrayed in the tilt of his ears and the lolling tongue.
“Oh, God.” She set the flashlight on the ground, the beam shining upward, and brought her hands up to her face. She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Someone please wake me up. Anytime now.”
Declan yipped, a high-pitched we-don’t-have-time-for-this bark.
She looked at him. “Okay, okay. Pushy werewolf,” she muttered. “Whether you’re on two feet or four, you’re still a bossy pain in the ass.”
The sigh that came from deep in his chest was long suffering. The look that he sent her…not so much.
“So, let’s do it this way.” She looked into his eyes and reminded herself that this was Declan. The man she loved. The man who loved her. The man who would lay down his life for her. He might not be as protective of her heart, but she’d never doubted his determination to keep her safe from physical harm. “One bark for yes, two for no. Okay?”
He barked once.
Yes.
Pelicia blew out a breath and looked down at the bomb and its three wires. “All right, then.” She brought her gaze back to Declan. “Should I cut the blue wire?”
Two barks.
Okay. That was a no.
She glanced down at the wires. “How about the red one?”
Two barks.
“So, that leaves the striped one.” Pelicia hooked a finger under the yellow-and-white wire and was about to work the tip of the knife under it when Declan barked again.
Twice.
Chapter 20
“What do you mean, no? Declan, there are only three wires here. If I’m not supposed to cut the blue wire or the red wire, that only leaves the striped one.”
Declan heard the frustration and fear in Pelicia’s voice and wished he could say something to alleviate both. But he was stuck as a damne
d wolf until morning. He glanced back at Addison.
The man’s eyes had glazed over, sightless now. The stench of death was strong in Declan’s nostrils, though he knew he could discern it only because of his enhanced sense of smell. The primitive beast inside him reacted.
Enemy. Dead.
Good.
Addison had not only had a background in demolitions, like Declan, but he had also been devious—even before the accident had twisted his psyche. Declan didn’t trust that it might be as simple as cutting one wire.
He looked at Pelicia. Her face was pale, shiny with sweat. Her pupils were so dilated he could hardly see the color of her irises. But his intrepid woman was holding onto her courage, even managing to make jokes.
That they were at his expense didn’t matter. As long as she stayed calm, she could poke fun at him all she wanted.
He huffed a sigh. This wasn’t right. She needed to call the police and get that damned thing off her instead of him trying to bark his way through instructions.
The killer might be dead, but the danger was by no means over.
He stood and padded over to the body again, nudged the phone at Addison’s waist with his nose. She had to call the police. That was the only option left open.
He’d figure out how to explain…Hell. To “out” himself as a werewolf was to potentially reveal Ryder as well. He sat down and leaned on one haunch. Pelicia was staring at him, her brows furrowed, lips pursed. Wrists tied in front of her, bomb strapped to her chest.
Rage bloomed anew. Damn Addison. The bastard was lucky he could only die once.
Sorry, Ryder. If he could, Declan would keep Ryder’s secret. But he couldn’t let Pelicia sit there with that fucking bomb on her chest.
He bent and tried to pull the phone from its holder with his teeth. Giving a low growl of frustration when he couldn’t get a good enough grip, he sat back and looked at Pelicia.
She sighed and yanked the mobile from the holder. “Ew, Declan. God. Dog slime all over the phone…” She swiped the phone against her jeans as well as she could with her wrists bound the way they were, making a face the whole time.
He chuffed at her. Now was not the time for her to be whining.
If anyone was going to do any whining around here, it was going to be him. And he did so now, trying to push her to make the call.
“Declan, how am I going to explain about all this? You’re a wolf.” She gave a pointed glance to one of his big paws. “I don’t think I can convince them that you just happened to show up when I needed some help.”
Declan frowned at her sarcasm, but acknowledged her point. At the same time, though, he didn’t see another choice. It would be better for a demolitions expert who was in human form to deactivate that bomb.
He whined and nudged the hand holding the phone.
Pelicia heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. “Okay. You’re right.” She opened her eyes and stared down at him. “You need to get out of here. I’ll have an easier time making up a story about why you’re not here than explaining the big, bad wolf sitting at my feet. I think.”
He was not going to leave her alone with that thing strapped to her chest. And so the big, bad wolf sat down, his tail curled over the tops of her toes.
“Very funny,” she muttered.
He woofed at her. Phone.
She sighed again. “Yes. Right.” With her thumb she punched in the emergency number and then brought the phone to her ear. Her explanation was terse. “Yes, I’ll stay on the line,” she said to the person on the other end of the line. “But please hurry. There’s not much time left.”
Over the next several minutes, minutes that felt like hours, Declan stayed by her side as the support officer talked to her, trying to keep her calm. Finally low male voices drifted to Declan’s ears, coming from the shore. He bounded to his feet and turned toward the sound, ears twitching forward to listen more carefully.
He recognized one man’s voice—Tremwith, the local police constable. Declan’s nostrils flared as he took in the variety of scents.
The acrid smell of fear.
The crisp odor of determination.
The tang of gunpowder.
Light flickered as men moved up from the beach with flashlights lighting their way.
He gave a sharp bark, then glanced at Pelicia and sat back down. Guess she’d have to explain to the police unit about to barge into view how it was she’d come to have a wolf sitting at her feet.
“They’re here,” she said into the phone. She disconnected the call. “It’s okay,” she said in a loud voice. “He’s dead.”
The team of men in full riot gear moved slowly into their line of sight. Tremwith brought up the rear, a bulletproof vest fastened over his uniform shirt. He glanced at Addison and then looked at Pelicia, eyes widening. “You all right?”
“Well, except for this little bomb here, yes.”
“Oh, God. Pelicia, how the hell did you get yourself into this mess?”
“It wasn’t easy,” she muttered.
When Tremwith’s gaze slid to Declan, his eyebrows shot up. “That’s a—”
“Can we please,” she interrupted, “talk about my…dog later?”
“Ah. Yes. Right.” The police constable brought his gaze back to Pelicia. He moved closer, keeping a wary eye on Declan. Looking over his shoulder, he told the other men, “There’s about fifty minutes left on the timer.” He looked at Pelicia again. “When neither of the men we’d posted called in at their appointed check-in times, we knew something was wrong.” He shook his head. “But I never suspected this.”
She pressed her lips together and stared at Addison. “I’m sorry. I think he killed them.”
A muscle flexed in the constable’s jaw as he turned to look at the dead man. “Pity he can only die once.”
A sentiment Declan completely shared.
Tremwith moved over to Addison and crouched beside the body. He looked again at Pelicia. “God Almighty. His throat looks to be completely ripped out.” He gave a pointed glance at Declan. “He do that?”
She nodded. “Addison was threatening to shoot me. He’d already come close to doing so a couple of times. He…the dog…attacked him, trying to protect me.”
“Uh-huh.” The constable pointed one finger at Declan. “Looks more like a wolf to me, not a dog.”
Declan turned his head to look at Pelicia, curious to hear her explanation.
She pressed her lips together a moment and glanced at Declan. “Actually, he’s a…hybrid, not a full-bred wolf.”
“He’s damned big.”
“Yes.” She cleared her throat and tipped her chin toward the bomb. “Do you think someone could get this off me?”
Declan swung his head back toward Tremwith.
“Oh, aye.” He gestured toward one of the men. “Bowers, raise Support on the radio. Let them know the situation. We’re going to need a bomb unit.”
“Yes, sir.” The man walked a few feet away, head tilted to one side as he spoke into the comm unit on his shoulder.
Keeping an eye on the wolf, Tremwith stood and slowly moved closer. He looked at the timer and blew out a breath. His smile looked forced. “We’ve still forty-five minutes to go. Plenty of time.”
“Still, I’d really like someone to get this off me. Now.”
“We’ll need to wait on that just a bit longer.” Tremwith went down on one knee beside her. He pulled out a small penknife and sawed through the flexible cable around her wrists. As soon as the binding fell free, she started rubbing her wrists, wincing at the soreness left from the cord cutting into her skin.
“How long has that thing been strapped to you?” Tremwith flipped the knife blade back into the handle and put the penknife back into his pocket.
She blew out a sigh that fluttered her bangs. “I’m not sure. He”—she gestured toward Addison with her chin—“knocked us, um, I mean, me out with some kind of gas. When I came to, well, here I am.” She looked down at the bomb then back up at
Tremwith. “It’s been at least two hours, maybe closer to three.” She grimaced. “I’d really like to get it off me. Sooner rather than later.”
“As soon as we get an expert on the radio. Just hold on a bit longer.” The constable looked at Declan. “And where did he come from? I didn’t think you had a dog.”
She cleared her throat. “Him? Ah, he’s, um…” She trailed off. Declan could see her thinking by the way she bit her lower lip. Her eyes widened suddenly and a small smile tipped one corner of her mouth. “He’s my dad’s. I’m dog-sitting for a couple of days.”
Declan chuffed in a canine laugh—the only kind he could do at the moment. William Cobb would not appreciate it when he found out he was the proud owner of a werewolf—even if it was only a story to explain the wolf’s presence here.
“And O’Connell?” Tremwith made an exaggerated show of looking around the area. “Where’s he?”
Pelicia bit her lip again. “I think…maybe Addison did something to him. Otherwise you know he’d be here.”
“Hmm.”
At that moment, Bowers walked back over to them, a mobile phone in one hand. “Sir, I’ve Support on the line. They can get a bomb squad here in roughly five hours.”
“Five hours?” Pelicia’s voice rose in dismay. “I don’t have five hours. I have…” She looked down at the timer. “Forty-two minutes! Please. Get this off me.”
Tremwith stood. “They can’t get here any sooner than that?”
Bowers shook his head. His gaze, when he looked at Pelicia, was full of sympathy. “They do have an explosives expert standing by.” He held out a multifunction tool, a small pair of scissors already unfolded from the handle.
“What? I’m doing this?” Tremwith slowly reached out and took the tool and the phone from the other officer.
Bowers shrugged. “You are the officer in charge, sir.” He then pulled another phone out of his pocket. “I’ve been asked to snap a few pictures of the device and transmit them to Support.” He looked at the bomb. “I’ve some experience with homemade devices like this. As I told Support, it looks to be fairly straightforward.” His gaze cut back to Tremwith and a sheepish grin tugged at his mouth. “For what that’s worth.”
Seducing the Moon Page 19