Harlequin Nocturne May 2015 Box Set: Wolf HunterPossessed by a Wolf

by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

“You mean a reason that didn’t involve getting lucky with you?”

  The remark sounded like forced lightness—an excuse that didn’t work, a cover-up that sent Abby’s mind into overdrive.

  She tried again. “Who are you?”

  “Just a guy.”

  “Oh no. Not just a guy. It doesn’t take a genius to know that.”

  When he didn’t respond, Abby said, “Okay. Listen. We don’t owe each other anything, like sharing names, phone numbers or Sunday dinners.” She glanced at the surroundings for the source of his nervousness, shoving aside her own discomfort.

  “I don’t feel anything remotely like the kind of pathetic female in need of carting around or being rescued from her own mistakes,” she said. “I can manage a grazed leg.”

  When he looked at her questioningly, a prickle of fear underscored Abby’s sense of balance. Uncertain about whether this guy’s closeness caused the flutter in her belly, or if something else wasn’t quite right, she gritted her teeth. The icy chill at the base of her neck brought up a fresh round of anxiety.

  In contrast, the shirt pressed against her hip and shoulder felt soft and silky. Abby recalled all too well the smoothness of the Were’s back beneath it, and how she had marred that skin with her nails.

  Holding up one hand, she saw blood under her fingernails. She remembered the heat-tempered smell of blood in the air. That had been his blood. Now, the scent of hers mingled with the memory of his.

  Another jolt of pain struck, slightly milder this time and ending up as a dull, persistent throb that Abby had to compartmentalize. Danger lurked. They had to get out of the park.

  “Put me down and I’ll be on my way. You don’t have to take me anywhere. You aren’t responsible for what happened, and don’t have to wait around to get to know me better.”

  “That’s a bit presumptuous, don’t you think? Imagining that I’d want to know you better?”

  “Actually, I can feel how much you’d like that.”

  He didn’t smile. Though he was hard enough beneath his jeans for Abby to feel the ongoing state of arousal that told her how much he might appreciate another round of death-defying sexual antics on any available surface, the Were’s expression was deadly serious.

  “Someone’s coming,” she guessed.

  “Yes.”

  No way could she ask whether that someone was human, or something other than human, because that would let the cat out of the bag regarding her ability to detect Weres.

  “I can walk,” she repeated. “I promise.”

  He looked down at her, his face a mask of doubt.

  “Promise,” she said.

  He stopped walking long enough to set her on her feet—reluctantly, Abby thought. Although her leg protested when she put weight on it, luckily it didn’t give out.

  Grabbing her clothes, ditching the embarrassment of being naked and upright, Abby tugged the T-shirt over her head.

  “Who is out there?”

  “No one you’d want to meet,” he replied.

  “I noticed you took the time to get buttoned up.”

  “Two naked people would have created quite a scene when we reached the street.” His eyes met hers. “I hurried.”

  Upon closer scrutiny, her midnight lover was on guard, his angular features shadowed. He didn’t like whatever he sensed in the dark.

  “How many are there?” Abby yanked on her pants.

  “Enough to make us want to clear out of here as fast as possible.”

  “So, you actually were trying to get me to safety?”

  His sad expression made his face seem older, though no less appealing as he said in the manner of a confession, “What I’ve done is to let them know about you. I knew better, but you...” He let that fade and started again. “You were a surprise.”

  Those words dug into Abby’s psyche as if there were two meanings inside them, if she could only comprehend. She felt tense and unable to explain to the Were she’d just thrown caution to the wind with that she knew who and what was out there in the dark as well as he did. She kept tight-lipped about mentioning that she knew about him.

  Possibly her father had also been there moments before. Maybe the TTD scoured the area for reasons other than locating her, and had made a mistake. However, the new presence suggested an oncoming storm of Otherness.

  Forgetting her recent decision to keep some distance from the creature beside her, Abby leaned against him to button her pants. That simple touch went a long way toward robbing her of what little breath she had left. He was hard, hot and way too good-looking for any decent thoughts to prevail.

  “Oh hell!” Pushing away from him, Abby centered her weight. She had to concentrate on the moment, and whether she could really rely on a wounded limb to get her out of there. If so, it would be a miracle.

  “Hell, you say? I’ll second the sentiment.” Her lover grasped her hand. “But I’m not ready to visit the land of fire and brimstone quite yet. And neither, I’m guessing, are you.”

  “You got that right,” Abby solemnly muttered.

  * * *

  Cameron took off at a run, pulling the woman with him, relieved to find out how fast she was and that she wasn’t going to question him further or complain.

  She kept up, her barefooted stride soundless on the grass and her slender arms pumping. The only evidence of her injury lay in her limp. She breathed heavily through the bruised mouth that he’d have given a lot to kiss again right that minute if he didn’t feel responsible for her safety. Thoughts about responsibility made anything having to do with her body off-limits, except getting it the hell out of there.

  Four manned-up wolves were on their trail, and had ventured into protected property, potentially drawn by the woman’s scent now that he’d sexually enhanced it a thousandfold. Still, it was more likely they were after him for his part in patrolling a place they called their own, with his intent to keep them far from the busy Miami streets. For the past two months, his nightly prowling had created an invisible fence between them and the unsuspecting population.

  Were those wolves dangerous? Seemed like it. But what more could happen to him after his last meeting with the fanged-and-clawed crowd? Besides, he’d taken a vow to protect and serve this city, and had to live up to that vow.

  Also, at the moment, the need for a quick escape saved him from having a real conversation with the woman beside him.

  Although telling her what he did for a day job, his name and rank, might have eased her mind, because people usually trusted cops, confessions at this point might also have made things worse. If regretful of the brief time they’d shared, she could file a complaint. She might cry foul over the same actions she had helped to initiate.

  The situation was tricky. What would the department say about his after-hours patrol, on his own time? How would he explain it, when in no way did it make sense to allow his comrades or Internal Affairs a closer look at him or his nocturnal activities?

  There were secrets to be kept on both sides of this mistake in the park, and zero chances for a future relationship with the woman he had hold of. The task was to get her to safety, then back off, forgetting wicked thoughts about her sleek, naked thighs and the kind of pleasure he’d discovered between them.

  She’d been a distraction only, a kink in his plans. He needed to find other Weres for reasons that went beyond revenge. He needed information about his new state and what he could expect down the road. This park seemed like the only place to find those things.

  And, he added in thought with a sideways glance at the woman beside him, the truth was that there had been someone else out here minutes ago. Werewolves, even while in their human skin, seldom used guns, and he’d smelled the metal.

  “Are you coming?” he asked.

  The woman beside him looked pa
ler, and still limped. Her hair streamed behind her as she ran. She didn’t look directly at him. Cameron’s heart thudded annoyingly as he gripped her hand tighter.

  For the first time since that vow with Miami law enforcement, he felt as though he had more than just a casual stake in the outcome here. Tonight, his investigation and the woman it had brought him felt personal. Was personal.

  Racing between a line of young palm trees, a sign of the approaching streets ahead, Cameron chanced another look at his passionate, nameless lover, and found her expression questioning. God bless her sleek little hide, no hint of fear showed on her face—only a kind of steely determination.

  She was indeed much more than she seemed. She was, in fact, a tough little thing.

  Too bad for us, whoever you are.

  Hell of a lot of bad timing here.

  In the back of his mind lay the question of whether the immediacy of their connection meant something. The look in her eyes, and the way those eyes had seared into him, suggested there might be more in store.

  A nagging suspicion suggested that he had better find out what this connection to her meant and if, after all was said and done, he truly would be able to forget her. In the meantime, because she had sidetracked his intention to capture and interrogate another Were tonight, his personal quest for information about himself had been put on hold.

  Chances were good that they’d get off easily and chock tonight’s events up to nothing more than a casual, if unusual, event that happened to men and women all the time, all over the world. Casual sex between strangers. Case closed.

  Snapping his teeth together so hard that his jaw burned, Cameron said, “Fire up, woman,” to the enigmatic female by his side, and increased his pace.

  * * *

  Abby’s legs felt weaker than normal and in need of a break. She’d just had a lover between them, and evidence of that was an ache that spread outward from her womb like cracks in a breached wall.

  Her breathing was harsh, her chest taxed. Over the sounds she made, she heard their pursuers. At least two of them, and maybe more. These were Weres the one holding on to her didn’t want to meet, or didn’t want her to meet.

  The park was brimming with monsters tonight. The one gripping her hand dialed back his speed after calling for more of it, considerately matching his stride to hers. Leaving him would have been a good idea, if it weren’t for the other creatures not far behind that likely had the scent of her bloody leg in their noses.

  Every few seconds, she stole a glance at her lover, wondering as she watched his shirttails fly and his bare chest muscles ripple, how anyone on the bad end of society, including his own gene-spliced alternate species, could possibly expect to deal with him in any confrontational circumstance.

  She felt the power in him, and had taken some of that power inside her. Remnants of that energy washed over her now, and yet every move he made seemed angled to make him appear human. Nevertheless, could an angel hide its wings for long? Could a devil hide its horns? A werewolf was a werewolf, and she had just been intimate with one.

  Oh yeah, and guess what? She had liked it.

  “Don’t slow down on my account,” she said as they rounded a corner. “I can take it.”

  Her mind clung to the thought that if she had mistakenly accused her father for her wound, and didn’t call in soon, Sam would come after her for real—maybe not out of fatherly love for his daughter, but out of a strong business sense. There had never really been much love or admiration between them. Hardly any at all. Actually, none at all.

  With her fingers securely curled in the Were’s hand, they raced past a brick wall that had seen better days and smelled of moss, finding an alley of palms. Dogs barked behind the tall fences, pinpointing Otherness without having to see it as she and the wolf passed.

  Although the uneven earth here made sprinting difficult, Abby was determined to shake the Weres on their trail and remove herself from the picture. She was eager to pretend tonight never happened, and hopeful that the guy next to her would do the same. She had tucked into her mostly boring little life of being an animal control officer by day and a bartender by night.

  All for the best.

  When she got back to the office, she’d report the bad guys like she was supposed to do and pray that this big, beautiful Were would take his moonlight shift someplace else. She’d be convincing. She would get over this, and forget about him. The grazed leg she’d keep to herself.

  Without a hint of warning, her companion slammed to a halt. He spun her around to face him and said soberly, “Go. Now. Don’t look back.”

  “I can...”

  “Now.” It was a command. “You do know your way? You weren’t lost?”

  “I know where I am.” Abby barely got that out before again feeling his breath on her face. Her eyes closed as his mouth met hers almost angrily, and in the manner of someone who might never get enough of what he’d found. His tongue swept over her teeth, and across her lips. She kissed him back.

  Lord help her, this wasn’t over. Can’t be over.

  The kiss lasted only seconds before he tore himself away. Letting go of her hand, he gave her a shove.

  “Go,” he reiterated. Whirling from her, he began walking, not away from the creeps following at a distance, but toward them, with his head lifted and his long stride purposeful.

  The sheer weight of his larger-than-life presence filled the night as Abby watched him go. Her heart did not stop its infernal pounding.

  Sensing her hesitation, he stopped only once to glance back. Across a span of withered grass their gazes met. He didn’t acknowledge a similar reaction to the one that had her reeling, or let on that he felt the same. Blood striped his shirt. Her fingernails had put some of it there. Her injury had done the rest.

  Mirroring the twitch that set his shoulders, Abby finally spun around. Without reaching for her phone or making the call that might have sent the team scrambling, and maybe even helped this one lone wolf in the short run, she sprinted for the road.

  She’d take no chances. This big Were was nothing she’d be willing to share. He’d be her secret. Her very private secret, added to so many others.

  On the plus side, she might have been a fool tonight, but at least she wasn’t going to be a dead one.

  The TTD motto served her well here.

  Live to fight another day.

  Chapter 6

  Cameron felt himself distancing from normal human perceptions of his surroundings, as though his humanness danced on a last remaining thread of control.

  Angling his neck, he heard a crack. Then another. But this wasn’t a night for the beast to exert itself to a full extent—at least, as far as he knew. So whoever was out here would be in the same boat, minus the badge tucked inside his pants pocket.

  As if he had wished them into existence, the miscreants came around a corner in single file, which would have presented him with an opportunity to gain something of an upper hand in a fight, if it weren’t for the fact that they had moved too close to a busy street for a fight to go undetected.

  “Are you boys heading in the wrong direction?” he called out.

  “What direction would that be?” the shaven-headed guy in front responded.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Toward trouble, maybe?”

  They didn’t laugh. Halting a couple yards away and meeting shoulder to shoulder in a united front, as animals in the wild sometimes did when eyeing a potential meal, they studied him impersonally with flat black gazes. The odor of wolf gone bad hung heavily in the air.

  Cameron held up his hands and kept his voice light. “Just doing my job. Keeping the streets safe.”

  The tallest of the gang, wearing a torn white T-shirt and baggy pants, took the initiative. “Why don’t you do your job someplace else?”

 
Cameron shook his head. “No can do. This is my beat.”

  “You’re a cop?”

  Cameron shrugged.

  “A filthy badge-carrying pig?” The speaker turned to his companions. “I thought I heard him squeal.”

  The other three gangbangers chuckled on cue, cut off when the lead dog spoke again. “Or was it the girl that squealed?”

  Cameron’s hands opened and closed, readying for a skirmish. “What girl would that be?”

  “The one you let get away. The naked one.”

  “Well,” Cameron said, “I’m wondering what that has to do with you.”

  “That bitch needs riding. She’s been broken in.”

  Cameron squeezed his hands tighter, sure he felt one claw spring through his fingertip, though that couldn’t be right.

  “Go home, boys,” he said. “There’s plenty of help here on the street if I whistle, and I’m sure you have better things to do than wait for what will happen.”

  “We’ll make a deal,” the leader of the unholy pack said. “You stay away from this park, and we’ll let you off with a warning this time.”

  “Why? Are you hiding something out there?” Cameron asked.

  “That’s none of your business. You might be a cop, but we know what else you are. We can spread the word.”

  “Really? What am I?”

  “A freak,” the guy said. “And all alone out here most of the time.”

  Cameron nodded. “Does that make us cousins? Should I feel warm and fuzzy?”

  “What you should feel is scared.”

  “Scared of you?”

  “Us, and others like us who can be your worst nightmare.”

  “Sorry,” Cameron said honestly. “My worst nightmare has already come and gone.”

  He realized someone was approaching from the street behind him before he had finished the statement. An authoritative voice rang out. “Is there trouble here?”

  Recognizing the voice, Cameron called back, “Davidson, is that you?”

  “Mitchell? Yeah, it’s me. Stegman is in the cruiser. Do we need to call him?”