Wolf Hunter

by Jane Godman

  The words had to be brutal to cut through the devastating grief that chain-sawed through her. If she let it win, she would become useless. It had happened so many times over the last six months. With renewed determination, she made her way to the desk. Taking a breath, she slid Hendrik’s black leather swivel chair out. How strange that, in four years of working for him and living in his house, she had never sat at this desk.

  And now she didn’t know if she could. Now, it would feel like sacrilege to do it.

  You have to move on. Nothing about Cindy’s life had been easy. The only child of drug-addicted prostitute, she had never known her father. She suspected her mom didn’t know who he was. When Cindy was fifteen her mother had been murdered by a dissatisfied client and Cindy had entered the welfare system. It had been her cue to go off the rails. At seventeen, she had sneaked out of her foster home to visit a bar. She had never made it home again. Picked up off the street by a biker gang, she supposed it was lucky that she had caught the attention of the gang leader that first night. It was all relative. Being the leader’s girl was lucky compared to being passed around the gang before being disposed of. Even if she had been the leader’s girl against her will . . . for two years.

  That nightmare had been brought to an abrupt and unexpected end by the arrival of Samson, who had wanted information from the gang’s leadership. His methods had been brutal and bloody, but he had spared Cindy and brought her to Hendrik. Four years of safety and happiness had followed. No, nothing prior to that time had been easy. But dealing with Hendrik’s loss was the hardest thing she had ever done.

  Brushing away the inevitable tears, she sat in the chair and got to work, opening drawers and sorting papers. Unsure what she was doing with some items, she ended up with a desktop that resembled a war zone. There were too many different piles of paper to call it organization, but, after a few hours, she was left with a feeling of accomplishment. It wasn’t a job well done, but it was a job started. Although she would need Valetta’s help to make some final decisions, it felt like she had climbed a mountain.

  When she finally sat back, the afternoon light was fading. Hendrik had chosen this room well. The huge window overlooked the backyard with its landscaped formal gardens leading to views of the woods beyond. Cindy knew, of course, that he had built his home on this exclusive ridge known as the Heights because of that forest. A werewolf needs a place to run. Hendrik liked to spend time in those trees. They had given him the privacy he needed.

  Now, for the first time, the woods seemed sinister. Had they always looked so gloomy and watchful at this time of day? That feeling of being observed sent a shiver crawling along the back of her neck and up into her scalp. Unnerved, she jumped to her feet and pulled the drapes across the window, shutting out the view.

  When she had first moved in here, in her unlikely role as Hendrik’s housekeeper, there had been a live-in security guard. That was because of the threats Hendrik and Valetta had been receiving at that time from a rogue motorcycle gang. Over the years, Hendrik had decided he preferred his privacy and had done away with the additional protection. These days, all that stood between Cindy and an intruder was a sophisticated alarm system.

  No matter how much she tried to tell herself she was letting her imagination spiral out of control, her adrenaline levels were spiking wildly. The hair on the back of her neck was standing up so sharply it hurt. Deep within the most primitive part of her brain, there was warning bell ringing. If it was playing tricks on her, it was doing a good job.

  The evil eye. Surely it was just a superstition? It wasn’t possible to feel a gaze. And since there was no one else here, she must be going crazy, because the gaze she could feel was imaginary.

  Breathing deeply, she got to her feet . . . just as invisible fingers caressed her cheek.

  Chapter Two

  Sebastian was a nomad. Currently based in Anchorage, he relocated to a new city roughly once every two years. That was the lifestyle that suited him. Putting down roots, being tied to one place? They were things other people did.

  He knew what had shaped him. What had happened in his past meant settling down wasn’t for him. The trauma was there, like an old injury that had never quite healed. He didn’t allow himself to dwell on it. It was part of him. That didn’t mean he had to revisit it.

  In addition to his or her strength and bravery, each member of the brotherhood had an extra talent. Sebastian wasn’t sure his diverse thinking was a skill. Often, it felt like a curse. It was as if his mind had no barriers. Where other people saw the checks and balances of day-to-day living, Sebastian saw only wide-open spaces. He couldn’t understand the need for regulation. If he wanted something, his mind would find a way for it to happen. Circumventing obstacles, dancing with danger, even flouting the law . . . they were the things he did best. It was what made him so good at his job. Sebastian got to the heart of a story before other journalists were even aware there was something going on.

  Sometimes, he hated his maverick brain and wished for normality. In recent years, he had watched as four of his brotherhood friends had found their mates. Now, only Sebastian and Vigo remained single. That stable lifestyle looked mighty tempting. But would it ever be for him? Would he ever be able to overcome the restlessness that surged alongside the creativity? He wasn’t sure, and it didn’t matter. He was never going to find his mate. Not while he had a desperate crush on one of his best friends. Not while the secrets in his past still haunted him.

  On his arrival at the Fairbanks airport, he could have called any one of his brotherhood friends in the area. Instead, he chose to hire a car and drive direct to Hendrik’s mansion. Why? He shrugged. Why wasn’t it okay to admit he wanted to see Cindy first? She was his friend. He was concerned about her welfare. Why did he have to go making it seem like some big, unhealthy deal?

  When he drew up outside the gates of Hendrik’s house, he paused, remembering other times at this place. Happy times. Hanging out. Eating with friends . . . a big part of werewolf culture. A smile touched his lips as he remembered Cindy’s round-eyed shock at the amount of raw meat that was consumed on some of those occasions.

  Cindy. Everything came back to her. She was the reason he was here. The reason for the twisting, gut-wrenching nervousness he was feeling. Sebastian didn’t do this. Didn’t do uncertainty or fearfulness. Not unless Cindy was involved.

  Hendrik had given Sebastian an electronic fob for the security gates several years ago when the brotherhood was protecting the house. The gates opened now as the sensor worked and Sebastian pulled into the elegant marble courtyard. He was shocked to see Hendrik’s sleek black Jaguar parked in its usual place. The sight of it caused a sharp pain to hit him hard in the chest. Hendrik had been driving that car the day his murderer snatched him. The police must have returned it to the house after they had finished their forensic tests.

  Next to the Jaguar, Cindy’s neat Citroën looked tiny. It seemed to be a metaphor for their lives together. Who knew what made couples work? Hendrik was such a big, dazzling personality that Cindy never quite had the chance to shine when she was with him. Not my business. They were happy together.

  Turning away from the cars, Sebastian had just placed a foot on the first step leading to the imposing front porch when the double glass doors flew open. He barely had a moment to take in what was happening before a figure came hurtling toward him. Without pausing, Cindy threw herself against him, twining her limbs around his body as if she were trying to imprint herself into him.

  Sebastian took a moment to process what was happening. He wasn’t going to fool himself that this was because she was pleased to see him. As he caught hold of her and held her pressed tight to him, he also wasn’t dishonest enough to pretend this wasn’t one of his deepest fantasies. But he wasn’t that guy. The one who took advantage of a woman to whom he was attracted when she was in distress.

  Because Cindy was beyond distress. Tremors wracked her slender body. As Sebastian gripped her upper arms
and set her on her feet, steadying her, but holding her an inch or two away from him, he studied her appearance. Her complexion was always pale, but now it was translucent. The wide blue eyes stared up at him in terror and, as he caught hold of her wrists, she choked back a sob. Her light brown curls always defied any attempt she made to confine them in a ponytail and now they clustered about her head and shoulders, giving her a fae appearance. He was shaken by his response to her. It had always been the same. From the very first moment he had seen her. When she was near, everything else disappeared.

  “Cindy, what’s going on?”

  Her lower lip trembled pitifully and she cast a scared glance over her shoulder toward the house. When she tried to speak, the sound came out as a strangled gasp. Drawing a breath, she tried again.

  “In there . . .”

  The hand that she raised to point shook pitifully and Sebastian decided he was approaching this the wrong way. She was terrified, and the origin of that terror was clearly inside the house. By keeping her standing around while he asked her to explain, he was only prolonging her suffering.

  “Do you want me to come back in with you? Check out whatever it is?”

  “No!” She clutched his hand. “I can’t go in there.”

  “Look, I’ve only just arrived in town and I haven’t eaten. Why don’t I lock up here and we can get something to eat? Then you can tell me all about it.”

  Cindy seemed to need a moment to process what he was saying. Then, to his surprise, a faint smile lifted one corner of her mouth. “Werewolves and their stomachs. I should have guessed food would come first.”

  Pleased to see her restored to something like normality, he returned the smile. “You should know. You lived with one of us for long enough.” As soon as the words left his lips, he cringed at his own insensitivity.

  As she tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow, Cindy didn’t appear to mind. “You understand the need to talk about him. Other people don’t.” The soft pressure of her breast as she leaned against his arm was delicious and unbearable at the same time. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here.” She cast another fearful glance up at the house. “One reason.”

  * * *

  Sebastian drove to a restaurant the brotherhood often visited. The owner didn’t know they were werewolves, of course, but he understood that this group of customers really did want the blood to run out of their rare steaks. And he didn’t raise an eyebrow at the amount of meat one guest could consume.

  Sebastian ordered food, but Cindy shook her head. “Black coffee.” She handed her menu back to the waiter.

  “You should eat something.” Sebastian’s gold eyes swept over her. “You’ve lost weight.”

  How could he tell that through the thick sweater she wore? Cindy felt a blush warm her cheeks at the thought of his eyes on her body. “I’ve lost my appetite lately.”

  He groaned, running a hand through his thick, white-gold hair until it stood up in all the wrong directions. “God, what’s wrong with me? I seem to have developed a knack for saying all the wrong things today.”

  “I don’t think there are any right things to say.” To her annoyance, tears welled in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought I was past this stage. It must be tiredness. I haven’t been sleeping too well.”

  Sebastian reached across the table and took her hand. The action surprised her. Of all her werewolf friends, he had always been the least tactile toward her. Touch was important to werewolves. That was something Cindy had learned from living among them. Nose bumps, body rubs, hugs . . . if they liked you, they couldn’t get enough of touching you. It mirrored what went on in the wolf world. Scenting, marking, and claiming.

  But Sebastian had always appeared reluctant to touch her. And deep down, isn’t he the one I want to touch me most? Now his big hand felt good wrapped around hers. Look at me holding hands with a werewolf. Warm, strong and slightly callused, it felt like that hand could protect her from anything. And it probably could.

  “What are you scared of, Cindy?”

  When she’d run out of the house and into Sebastian’s arms, Cindy had initially believed him to be a figment of her imagination. Sheer, blind terror had sent her racing for the door and one person had been on her mind. Sebastian. Incredibly, he had been there as she bolted toward her car. One thought had flashed through her mind. He couldn’t be real. Her imagination must be playing tricks.

  When she realized it was him, she had hurtled into his arms with pure joy thundering through her veins. How could he have known she needed him? Right here, right now. It was as if he had been on psychic speed dial answering her cry for help.

  “This is going to sound crazy.” It sounded bad enough inside her own head. She dreaded saying it out loud.

  “Just tell me.” One of the things she had always liked about Sebastian was his voice. Deep, melodic, and husky, it had a slightly hypnotic note. She supposed that was what made him such a successful journalist. That voice got people to tell their stories, spill their secrets, purge their souls . . . One of the things she liked about Sebastian? She liked everything about Sebastian.

  “There was someone in the house.” The words came out in a sudden rush as though forced out of her on a gust of air.

  Before he could respond, the waiter brought their order. As the food and drink was placed in front of them, Cindy was aware of Sebastian’s golden eyes scanning her face. What was he thinking? That Hendrik’s death had affected her more than anyone had realized? That she needed professional help? That she was outright crazy? She wrapped her hands around her coffee mug as if it was a lifeline and risked lifting her eyes to his.

  There was a frown in those glorious depths. “What do you mean?”

  “You eat. I’ll talk.” She gestured to the huge mound of bloody steak on his plate. Four years of taking care of a werewolf had taught her the priorities.

  Sebastian grinned as he picked up his knife and fork. If they’d been alone, he’d have dispensed with the cutlery. “Thanks.”

  As he ate, she told him everything, describing the feelings of being watched, the increasing discomfort, the growing, grinding sense of fear.

  He listened carefully, and his plate was almost clear before he spoke. “You’re not going to like what I’m about to say. But, is it possible that this is a natural reaction to the grief of losing Hendrik?”

  “I thought of that. Of course I did. It was what I believed.” She tilted her chin proudly. His voice had been gentle, exactly as she had expected, but it irked her. She didn’t want this “poor Cindy” attitude. Not from anyone, but especially not from him. “Until today. Until whoever was in that house touched me.”

  He jerked as though she’d given him an electric shock. “What?”

  “He touched me. I think it is a he. Since he’s invisible, I can’t be sure.”

  A frown descended on his brow. “What do you mean ‘touched’ you? You don’t mean he . . . ?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing like that.” He had gone into protective overdrive as soon as she mentioned a touch. Although she hurried to reassure him, she couldn’t help wondering what his reaction would be if he ever found out about her biker gang experiences. Not that there was any reason he ever should know. “He touched my cheek.”

  Sebastian slumped back in his chair, an expression of incredulity on his face. He might choose not to believe her, of course. He might still decide this was all a product of her overwrought imagination. If he did? Well, she guessed she was on her own. The idea was painful, but she could face it. Those feather-light fingers stroking her face had not been all in her mind. She shivered all over again at the memory.

  “So you think there is an invisible person in the house who touched your cheek?” Cindy nodded. “What makes you so sure it’s a person?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” She remained calm and determined. “But I have been sure I was being watched. And today it was definitely fingertips I felt brushing against my cheek, even though I couldn’t see who
it was.”

  “Why would he be there? And why would he do that?”

  “To scare me. Whoever it is, that person is not there to help.” She sipped her coffee, trying to drink in some of its warmth.

  Those invisible eyes probing the back of her neck had not been kindly, or even neutral. She had sensed evil coming in waves from that unseen presence. It had been as powerful as a magic charm. Her experiences of the supernatural had all been linked to the brotherhood, but she knew when something was otherworldly. She recognized enchantment when she felt it. And she could still feel it now. It wasn’t as strong here, but that watchful presence was still with her. Like an invisible stalker, he had followed them here to the restaurant. She may as well tell Sebastian all of it, risk his disbelief and pity.

  “It’s not just in the house. It’s been happening for weeks, and I’ve felt it everywhere I go. At the grocery store, walking down the street, at Hendrik’s memorial this morning.” She drew a breath. “It’s here now.”

  Something in his manner had changed as she was talking. He sat up straighter. Although his body remained facing her, his eyes roamed around. Cindy knew his keen wolf senses—particularly his hearing and smell—were on high alert. She just didn’t know why.

  “I don’t know why you would believe me—”

  “Oh, I believe you, Cindy.” His voice was soft, as his eyes continued to seek out the shadowy corners of the room. “Because I can feel it, too.”

  * * *

  Sebastian was a werewolf. He was not particularly intuitive. His wolf senses were physical, but this was like a jolt to his psyche. Cindy was right . . . someone, or something was watching them. And whoever it was didn’t care if they knew it.

  He wants us to know it.

  That self-confidence made Sebastian’s thoughts turn in one direction—Chastel!—but it was too early to jump to conclusions.

  “Let’s get out of here.” He signaled for the check.

  Once they were outside, he grabbed Cindy’s hand and ran for the car. “Get in.”