The passenger-side door of Dylan Landau’s red Porsche opened with a snap. The person Landau had identified in passing as Tory jumped out. For a few seconds it was hard to discern who this was, dressed all in black from head to foot. But when the light made contact with her face, female features filled in. A riot of curly hair tumbled over slim shoulders, hair that matched its color to the scent of blood in the air, Landau’s Porsche and Chloe’s anger. Red.
That person’s change happened in less time than it took for Parker to blink his eyes, and so smoothly it would have been evident to anyone watching that she was a master at transitions. She was also graceful, beautiful, regal and, Parker sensed, as dangerous as any of the males here.
The two she-wolves on Landau’s lawn faced each other. Then the sound of more bodily manipulations came from behind them. Dylan had morphed into an imposing light-pelted werewolf. Caught up in the moment, Parker almost missed the next shift happening beside him.
Christ, it was Wilson. Wilson was one of them. Big, dark brown, naked now and without his badge or gun.
The last noise came from the porch steps. Lighter footfalls padded to join the circle. Parker glanced into the eyes of a third she-wolf. Putting two and two together in this instance equaled—the stunning Jenna James.
All of them were werewolves. It was insane. Unbelievable. All of these people had gathered at The Sanctuary for a reason, tethered together by a mutated gene pool. These were the others that Parker had waited to find as he had perched atop Landau’s wall. People from all walks of life were here, sharing this one secret. Why? To protect the missing judge? To keep safe and secure the place where werewolves roamed freely and could find refuge?
Parker flicked his attention to the red she-wolf, Tory. Who was she? The question scarcely had time to settle before a silent message passed between Wilson, Landau and Tory. Then Tory, like a flaming arrow, sprinted for the wall.
The others followed, racing after her, spreading out to cover more ground. Except for Parker, who held Chloe back by corralling her with his body.
She pressed up against him, bumped him back, growled in agitation, snapped her teeth. Parker knew he would be needed out there, over the wall, if there was to be a showdown, and that he couldn’t remain here, no matter how badly he wanted to protect Chloe. There was the matter of his own revenge against the wolf who had done this to her and so many other innocent people.
He wasn’t alone. No longer did he have to fear the future. He would find the answers he sought, and was in good company. The future looked more promising, almost shiny…if all these wolves would come back alive.
In a moment of indecision, feeling Chloe’s angst ride his skin like the threat of an imminent cyclone, Parker let her go.
Chapter 20
He ran beside her, with the breeze in his face and her scent in his lungs. His blood pumped furiously through him, part exertion and part fear. He would keep close, watch her, protect her with his life. Theirs was a connection not to be broken by something as dreadful as a werewolf named Chavez.
The scent of his pack was like a visible directive. They had not traveled far from the wall, had in fact stopped just short of the trees. The only wolf missing was the red one. Tory. And Parker got it then, realized what the plan had been. Part of it, anyway. The red wolf was going to be the bait—to catch a killer. Why?
Jenna’s words came back to him as he herded Chloe off toward the closest tree cover. I’m just saying that men, and not only those we’ve categorized as insane, have been known to do a lot of strange things in the name of love.
The red wolf was the bait. She would set this wolf trap. The red wolf, out of everyone here, was the bait because…Chavez wanted her? Because Chavez loved her?
Would Chavez, a master criminal and murderer, be waylaid from his plan to go after the judge by his longing for a flame-pelted wolf, even if he did want her? Or had he gone over the edge of sanity once and for all?
A series of calls went up, but Parker’s mind was stuck in a loop. Trick was the word that Chloe had said to him when he’d found her. Possibly she’d been right. A master criminal of Chavez’s caliber had to be as intelligent as he was insane. There was a chance that Chavez had indeed been smart enough, lucid enough, to set this very night in motion through a series of events. He’d been squeezed into a narrower vision that included the red she-wolf as a prize. Maybe that’s why Chavez hadn’t left town. He had one more thing to do. Maybe two. Take the red she-wolf for himself, and do some damage to the pack she preferred.
There were wolves everywhere. Parker smelled them, felt them. Chloe did, too. Growls emerged from her throat as she pressed herself tightly to his back. She wanted to be a part of whatever was happening.
Whose trick would succeed tonight? Whose plan? For surely that silent message passed between Wilson, Landau and Tory had confirmed there was a plan. It could not be as simple as luring Chavez out and then letting the fight begin, winner take all. It had to be way more than that on principle alone. Good guys versus bad guys?
Anxiously, Parker waited, holding Chloe back, feeling her breath ruffle his hair, and fighting his beast’s instinct to say the hell with the rest of them, and to take her somewhere safe, someplace where he could have her for himself.
Selfish bastard.
She was shaking with anxiety, and smelled like unmasked desire, raw nerves and feminine seduction. Being near her was a wild intoxication. All he had to do was turn, and he’d be ready to show her how much he wanted her. Yet…God, yes, with all of that, he knew also that Chloe wouldn’t be able to rest or accept any of this until she had settled a score.
The call they had been waiting for came—vicious, threatening. Chavez. Had to be. Parker tensed, and felt Chloe tense behind him.
An answering howl, equally as strong and no less menacing, went up. Tory? And—No! Shit! Chloe followed that call, darting out from behind him, running for all she was worth.
Parker went after her, sprinting as fast as his legs would take him, and he still had a hard time keeping up. They weren’t alone, he knew for a fact. Several werewolves hid among the trees. It was a game of hide-and-seek, with a myriad of scents clogging up the mix and not one wolf appearing in the open.
Then, all of a sudden, there were two wolves ahead of him, the females, stopping side by side on the grass, caught in a beam of moonlight so bright, it highlighted every feature on their faces.
Parker drew up short and threw his weight sideways. He had no idea who Tory, the red wolf, was, but she truly was magnificent. By her side, Chloe, brand-new to her current shape, and with her black pelt shining like polished ebony, was every bit as magnificent, and evocative as hell.
Parker’s nerves flared again. His loins ached with a growing, insistent throb. The way Chloe stood there, independent, head lifted, weight on her toes, made him want her all the more. But he knew better than to ruin whatever game plan was in play.
He had to wait this out. From beneath the trees, he sent his senses outward, fishing for clues as to where everybody was, thinking they had better be really close and prepared to move. The two wolves were alone up there and exposed, seemingly. Anything could happen, at any minute.
Another howl went up. Parker’s hackles lifted. He dropped to his haunches, ready to spring. This wasn’t a call he recognized.
Another noise spun him around. A wolf joined him, leaping silently in from the shadows. It was the young wolf from the judge’s Sanctuary, greeting Parker with a snarl and a hand to his chest, signifying same.
Same what? Side? Species?
The pale wolf he now knew to be Chavez had done the same thing, but there had been nothing similar between them if pain and torture were that wolf’s idea of a good life.
A third howl went up, this one from the red she-wolf standing defiantly in the moonlight. Her vocalization was loud, harrowing, and caused every single hair on Parker’s body to stand on end. He made a second sideways jump, rocked on his toes and got a bump from behind
. The young wolf had his back, that bump told Parker, but what would happen next?
Chloe had to feel his attention, but she kept mute as a large male stepped out from beneath the trees. Parker snapped his teeth, inched ahead, then rocked back again. This was no pale monster. It was the missing brown wolf who had led Parker from Fairview to the wall, and eventually to the judge’s house—taking Parker right to the source of his dreams.
The brown Were planted himself four feet away from the females with an attitude that had bodyguard written all over it. A message clearly stated, and an answer to the challenge Wilson had mentioned? If so, Parker thought, swear to God, it smacked of the shootout at the OK Corral.
Chloe’s ebony pelt visibly ruffled. Watching her carefully for signs of fear that would have had him by her side in seconds, he moved toward the light. The wolf beside Parker broke his forward momentum by applying a stiff swipe with very sharp claws to his shoulder blade. Wait.
Waiting proved to be nearly impossible. The males might have been mimicking the shootout, but Chloe stood there like one of the damned virgins in fantasy novels who were tethered to a spot and designated as dragon fodder. Would Chavez be so bold as to take this bait, stride right in here, when Wilson and Dylan Landau were close by?
Parker’s attention was riveted on Chloe, the woman who had been half-naked in his arms not an hour before. The woman who had shown courage in this same place, and was showing it again now by taking a stand. He would not, could not lose her, he realized. He could lose the rest, even the answers to the puzzle of his existence, if she were by his side. With that startling thought in mind, he willingly joined the party.
Positioning himself shoulder to shoulder with the brown wolf, Parker found his breathing settled into a rhythm. The tension of the moment was like nothing he’d ever known, not even remotely similar to the fight in the park. This tension was denser, weightier, aggressive. It was also exhilarating.
A low murmur went up, disturbing the trees, the grass, the air. Parker scented him among those bits of nature gone awry. Chavez. The scent quickly melted into a taste that Parker had missed with the distance of their prior meeting. Chavez was like the bitter taste of burned coffee, perhaps hinting of the black, burned-up soul he possessed.
And Chavez, the elusive pale wolf, appeared now like an apparition on the edge of the shadows, seemingly alone, although that, too, was an illusion. The area virtually pulsed with otherness, as if too many anomalies had been crammed into a space too small to hold them.
Chavez was a sight, fully morphed. All Weres, Parker had found, were larger than their human selves, but Chavez was one of the largest Weres he had seen so far. The eeriness of Chavez’s white pelt was further intensified by the directness of the monster’s gaze. Intelligence shone there, yes, and also that creepy gleam of someone who had obviously left reason behind.
The wolf at Parker’s side snarled. Chloe’s responding snarl caused Parker’s jaws to clench. This was the monster who had hurt Chloe, bitten her, infected her, changed her life forever.
Tory, the red wolf, remained silent. What was her story? Parker wondered. How had she garnered the attention of this criminal in the first place?
There was no time left for pondering anything else. Chavez’s wolves started to close in from the periphery, one step at a time. Parker recognized the ones he’d faced when the gunmen had been taken down. The surprise was that there were only four beasts in Chavez’s entourage. Behind them, still hidden but smelling like the metal of the firepower they wielded, were two humans. Replacements for the two taken away earlier.
But Parker had sensed more Weres than this. At least ten at last count. He did a quick recalculation of the surroundings, inhaled, and let the number of remaining Weres roll across his tongue. Yes, more were there, and now that he’d sampled some of them up close, he could pick out the rust wolf and the young wolf. He knew that Dylan Landau was here, and Wilson. He smelled the sweetness of gardenias that came along with Dana Delmonico. With himself and the big brown wolf, that made seven Sanctuary Weres to Chavez and his four. Easy pickings if it weren’t for those humans and their damned silver bullets. And if he knew about the count, so did Chavez, who had so obviously been a werewolf longer than Parker.
Uttering a feral, deep, rolling growl that instantly stopped all movement from Chavez’s pack, the red she-wolf twitched. Her fur vibrated as if she’d met with a stray breeze.
The pale wolf only had eyes for her. That much was clear. If a wolf’s muzzle could smile cynically, Chavez’s did. And in the manner of not giving a fig about whomever else was there, he moved toward Tory with intent to do what? Hurt her? Kill her? Jump her? Ignoring the rest of the Sanctuary pack present?
Maybe he really had jumped off the sanity bridge.
Tory snapped her teeth when the big brown wolf made to move closer. She snapped at Parker when he stepped in front of Chloe. He seemed to hear what she was thinking. Mine. But that was just silly. Or was it?
Again, Tory moved faster than the eye could follow. She halved the distance between herself and Chavez, and then she was on him. And not in the way Chavez might have anticipated. Certainly his wolf face seemed startled.
Her teeth were on his neck in a flash of red. She twisted her body, sank her canines into Chavez with the fury of a wolf who had been wronged. But Chavez hadn’t bitten the red she-wolf, Parker knew. She was something altogether different, as were the Landaus. She was fast, terrible in her fury, and unearthly strong. Realizing this too late, Chavez began to fight back.
All hell broke loose. Bullets flew. Parker jumped aside, taking Chloe with him. The brown wolf went after Chavez’s nasty pack, and after making sure Chloe was safe, Parker did the same.
Claws were slashing all over. Teeth grazed Parker’s skin, beading up lines of blood. More wolves arrived. Bodies were so tangled that the bullets stopped coming, the humans perhaps fearing they’d hit one of their own.
There were shouts and human cries, then silence from the gunmen. Into the space beside Parker, Chloe landed, her own teeth bared, her arms and legs a blur of motion. She leaped onto Chavez’s broad back as Tory clung to his front. Her teeth sank into his neck where Tory’s had left off. Although Chloe didn’t appear to be strong enough to do any major damage, she succeeded in distracting her target.
Chavez screamed, whether in anger, frustration or pain, Parker couldn’t guess. The young wolf and the rust wolf were there now, their added strength turning the tide. Blood flew in the fighting. Howl after angry howl filled the humid night. And then, miraculously almost, certainly way too quickly, the fight was over.
Silence fell.
Chavez was on the ground, with four wolves on top of him. Four more bodies lay scattered around, back to human form in death. Tory stood aside, her face covered in Chavez’s blood. But the criminal wasn’t dead. Chavez, mighty in his own right, and well used to the pitfalls of the fights he had sponsored in the name of torture and entertainment, lay there motionless, as if he had simply given up.
Parker could not believe he would do that, or that he had been a fool for love. Complete insanity seemed more likely. But there was no time to think further on that, or about what would happen to him now. The brown wolf hauled Chavez to his feet. Delmonico and Wilson, still morphed, stood on either side. They dragged him toward the wall, herding him like a dog caught in a moving cage of muscle.
Done deal. Miami’s monster, without the rest of his pack, which had been killed in the raid, had been taken down. And every one of the Sanctuary’s pack had been left standing.
Parker heard Chloe’s labored breathing and turned to find her crouched on her haunches. Bloodstains tipped her sharp teeth. She had a strange look in her eyes.
He was with her in a second, pulling her to her feet. With a roar. She stared back. Then Parker ran, with his she-wolf in tow.
He headed for the wall, for the Landau’s house, for The Sanctuary, which would allow them to get back to their human forms. He needed to see
her, speak to her, comfort her, hold her. Needed so much more from her that his heart nearly burst in his chest at the distance they still had to go.
And it felt good, running beside her—more exciting than the fight, or freeing Miami from a monster—and equally as important somehow.
It felt right.
Chloe’s body undulated as soon as she reached the porch. She staggered as they raced through the open door, and nearly fell as Parker, changing shape while he took the stairs two at a time, refused to slow.
She ventured a glance at herself as she followed. Her hand once again resembled her hand. No claws, no black fur, only a fine-boned arm and wrist, naked, with all bones intact.
Parker pulled her through the doorway to the bedroom where she had made her first full transition, and fell back against the door as she tumbled onto the bed. It could very well have been an awkward moment, for so many reasons, with both of them completely naked. Yet Chloe felt as if she knew Parker at the soul level, and as though she had been waiting for him for a very long time. He was a noble, honorable man who sacrificed himself for others on a regular basis. Case in point, herself, and what he’d done for her. Second case in point, his being here tonight, helping the others.
Plus he was absolutely spectacular naked.
Chloe gasped as she eyed his male perfection, her hungry gaze traveling over the soft dark hair on his well-muscled chest, to his narrow hips. Was she quivering for him, or was her body shaking off leftover remnants of werewolf?
Parker moved away from the door, eyeing her right back. It didn’t take a rocket scientist for her to realize the cause of her quivers. It was the anticipation of finding out everything about him, starting with the very male, very large, rock-hard and completely visible erection for which he wasn’t the least bit embarrassed.
Wolf Trap Page 23