Past My Defenses (Taming the Pack series) (Entangled Ignite)

by Wendy Sparrow

  He could feel everyone’s eyes on him again. It felt weird to talk to another woman with the pack listening in to make sure he wasn’t cheating on Vanessa.

  “Vanessa isn’t taking it well. It’s good that I don’t have to ask to stay here with her.”

  “At least you weren’t home with that fire yesterday. That was lucky. I didn’t expect them to call you in to replace me or I’d have dragged myself out of bed.”

  “Nah, it was fine. Vanessa was getting stir-crazy anyway. She isn’t really keen to be protected for the most part.”

  “Well, what happens next? Is she planning on leaving town?”

  Vanessa? Backing down and running off? He couldn’t see that. There was a pattern to her running off…and she always seemed to come back. Maybe that was just with him, though. “I doubt it, but I don’t know. I’m sticking near her either way.” If she did want to leave, he’d leave with her. He had to. He couldn’t live without her.

  “Haven’t you only known each other two weeks?”

  “Sometimes you just know.” He’d swear Sammy said something similar not so long ago, but his days were blending together. The pack was still watching him, but hopefully this conversation had allayed their concerns that he wanted anything more than friendship with her. Hell, maybe Ross would end up with the other ranger. “I should probably go in case Vanessa needs me.”

  “Okay, I guess I should go find something to do with myself since I’m a nonessential personnel.”

  “Guess so. Maybe another day off will help you get over whatever bug you caught.”

  “Or send me off my rocker. Nothing worse than being trapped inside.”

  He mumbled something in agreement before hanging up. Though he had a few ideas of things a lot worse than cabin fever. Staring into a dead woman’s eyes. Feeling helpless to stop a murderer from hunting your girlfriend. Skirting your girlfriend having to sacrifice herself because you couldn’t control your temper. But, sure, cabin fever was bad. Actually, Vanessa might have it top her list, too.

  An hour later, the police had gone—mostly. There was a cruiser outside, and the sheriff had mentioned there’d be more interviews later. But the body had only been dumped here so the scene offered pretty minimal evidence, according to Travis—when he’d been speaking in front of the sheriff. It seemed to be a sketchy line the deputy drew when it came to evidence. He was taking reports from other Lycans and passing them on to Jordan while still investigating the crime as if he were a human.

  Vanessa was still in the shower. Now. An hour later. He knocked on the door.

  “Honey, you can’t possibly still have hot water.” He waited a minute and then said, “I’m worried, and I’m coming in if you don’t open the door.”

  The doorknob rattled. When it went still, he took it as a sign that she’d rather not have him break another of her doors, and he opened it slowly. She was sitting on the edge of the tub, the shower curtain closed behind her, but the shower still going, the water pinging off the plastic curtain. She was dressed and dry.

  Nothing in his life had prepared him to deal with a part-wolf girlfriend being hunted by a serial killer wanting to sell her internal organs on the black market. It didn’t even seem real. His sister’s PMS had been fairly dramatic, and he’d expected it to help him deal with the female psyche…or at least prepare him for it. He sat on the toilet lid and leaned toward her. He had nothing to offer her. There’d been a body dumped on her porch.

  He took her hands in his, and his brain fished around for some topic that wouldn’t upset her—something that had nothing to do with what had been left on her porch and what was probably occupying her every thought. “I think I’d rather have Jordan officiate at our wedding instead of Satan.”

  Without moving her head, her eyes met his and she almost smiled. It was a start.

  …

  He’d talked her into going to bed, but neither of them was sleeping. They were both staring at the ceiling. It might be a good long time before she could sleep. If she ever could again. Every time she even blinked, she saw Carrie’s empty eyes, staring through the sliding glass door.

  “While you were showering—for real—the first time after the fire, I called my parents,” Dane said, breaking the quiet.

  “Oh?”

  “I told them there’d been a fire but it was just smoke damage, and also that I was staying with my girlfriend.”

  She swallowed. It sounded good to be called his girlfriend, but his parents probably thought she was a slut for how fast they were moving. And even if she met his parents, it’s not like she could introduce the subject and explain.

  No, we’re not actually having marital relations despite being married in my culture because, you see, I’m in heat, and he’s concerned I’d get frisky with an ottoman at this point. He’s not completely wrong—but it’s his fault, really, because have you really smelled your son? He smells like someone ought to lick him up and down. He smells like a good time in all the bad ways.

  How did we meet? Really sweet story—well, two weeks ago, he stuck me in a cage when I was naked, but that’s okay because I basically arrive naked at his house all the time, and then he shoots at whatever is chasing me on that day.

  So, Christmas? Your house or ours? Well, it would be my house really because a psychotic killer wolf burned down his. Oh, and, by the way, I’m allergic to everything you made for dinner other than the glass of ice water which I poured on my head. This was special—we should do this again.

  It’d never work.

  “My mom wants to know when your birthday is. I felt stupid because I didn’t know.”

  She blinked and wrinkled her nose. “That’s it? She wanted to know my birthday?” She didn’t want to know why they were sharing a bed or why she was dragging arsonists down on her son? Not that Dane would probably volunteer that information, but…really…just her birthday?

  “She wanted to read your horoscope and put your birthday on her calendar.”

  “April twenty-eighth.”

  “Oh, that’s no good. She’ll have a field day with that.”

  She rolled to face him. “What?”

  He put his hands behind his head and continued staring at the ceiling. “We’re both Taurus—the bull. Mine is May nineteenth. At all the family parties, she’ll bring up something about me being with someone as stubborn as myself.” He shook his head. “And she’ll be right.”

  She scooted close enough to put her head on his chest. This might be the last time she was with him, and this was how she wanted to remember him—breathing in his scent, talking about the future as if it might happen. This could have been a good life. She could have stayed with him forever and been happy. Content. She’d never been content before. She could have been.

  “I don’t believe in astrology,” she said.

  “Yeah, I felt the same way about werewolves.”

  She laughed softly and closed her eyes. He smelled so good.

  Mine.

  And she’d always protected what was hers.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Something felt wrong. She might be pulling another of those long non-shower showers, but he was worried enough that he strode over and knocked on the door after twenty minutes or so. It wasn’t more than twenty minutes, was it? Dammit! He’d been doing some internet searches to see if he could find any crimes that matched a poacher profile.

  “Vanessa?” he said as he knocked again.

  No answer.

  It might’ve been a half an hour.

  “Vanessa, I’m breaking down this door if you don’t unlock it again.”

  Hell, it might have been longer than half an hour. He’d found a few suspicious crimes, and it’d fed into this feeling of accomplishment, of control, that had been so absent from his life the last two weeks.

  Damn. She was going to hate him when she saw this door. He slammed through it, and the door’s key pinged off his back as it fell from the doorframe. He hadn’t even thought to look for a key. I
t threw his concentration for a second before he focused in front of him on the empty bathroom with the open window. How on earth had she fit through there? And dammit again!

  There was a note written with what looked like eyeliner sitting on the toilet.

  Sorry about your house. I told you I wouldn’t let you be the one sacrificed and it’s my right honor to give my life for you. Tell Jordan I’m giving my place in the pack to you and to abide by the rules of sacrifice.

  -V

  A sick feeling settled in his gut like a bowling ball, and he ran through the house to the front door. Yanking it open, he shouted, “Vanessa! Vanessa! Get back here! I don’t care about the damn house!” She might still be able to hear him. Maybe she hadn’t been gone as long as he thought. “I’m going to tell Jordan to go piss himself in front of the entire pack! He’ll probably kill me right there!”

  Nothing. He waited a minute, listening, just in case.

  He swore good, long, and blue as he grabbed his gun and phone. He also brought her purse with its supernaturally large stash of medications—because he was going to find her, and when he did, he was going to kiss her until she’d need her red inhaler.

  When he got in the Jeep, he sat there with the keys in the ignition. There was no way he’d find her if she didn’t want to be found. It was like Sammy had once said about wolves—if they didn’t want you to see them, you wouldn’t see them.

  He didn’t have a lot of great options. In fact, he had one lousy option that’d cost him any self-respect he had. He started the Jeep and headed toward Hill Contracting. As he did, he ran through all the possible ways of asking for help without asking for help.

  The parking lot was full—packed full. There was no way this was just the normal work crowd. Hell.

  The front door said Closed, despite it being nearly noon, but it opened when he yanked on it. The receptionist’s desk was empty, a black chair pushed back and vacant, which made him walk faster toward a back room where he heard voices. He stepped in to see around fifty people standing with their heads bowed other than the person addressing Jordan and the Alpha himself, who had watched Dane walk in with a baffled look on his face. Others shot Dane looks without raising their heads. He recognized a good portion of them—which was just insane.

  This was insane.

  His being here.

  It was the only way.

  He took a deep breath. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for Vanessa, but it was as good as swallowing acid when he lowered his head like the others.

  The room was utterly silent—it was as if they were all wax sculptures in a museum. He couldn’t even hear them breathing. It was weird enough when Vanessa did this, but when a whole room of Lycans did it, it was creepy as hell.

  “Dane?” Jordan asked. His tone still suggested he couldn’t believe what he was seeing—suggested he’d expected that Dane would walk through lava before lowering his head in front of him.

  It was basically true. But Vanessa respected this man as a leader, and this was the only way. He’d walk through lava before he’d lose her.

  Dane didn’t tip his head up, but he made eye contact with Jordan. He had no idea what the hell he was doing—he’d never done a submissive thing in his life. Hopefully, he didn’t screw this up and have them turn on him. He couldn’t afford the time to die for being obstinate.

  Jordan raised his eyebrows.

  “I need help.”

  Jordan’s mouth dropped open for just a second. “Where’s Nessa?”

  He assumed since he’d been asked a direct question, he could answer. “She took off. I think she’s trying to end this by drawing them after her.” He swallowed. “I need you. I can’t track her.”

  Jordan nodded. “Travis, you’re acting Alpha. Patrol the roads looking for that semi.” The other Lycans stepped back as he went through them. At the door, he grabbed a backpack. “Let’s go.”

  He’d never expected Jordan to help him, not directly. He stood there, staring.

  Jordan turned back. “Come on…you’re allowed to move.”

  Shaking it off, he followed Jordan at a jog.

  “First time being submissive?” Jordan asked as he pushed through the door.

  “First and only time.”

  He laughed. “Well, you’re better at it than Nessa, I’ll say that much.”

  Even hearing that moron’s version of her name hit him in the gut. They had to find her. Now. “So, how do we do this?”

  “We go back to the house in your Jeep, and you get to see I’m better at tracking than you are at shooting.”

  It was a good thing Travis was back in that room because Dane drove as fast as his Jeep would go, the pedal flat on the floor the whole time. Any cop in the area would have written him a hefty fine no matter who he was and what he was doing. The Jeep caught the corners on two wheels.

  “If you kill us with your driving, that’ll slow us down significantly,” Jordan said, his fist tight around the roll bar’s grab handle.

  Yeah. Whatever. Sissy.

  “What’s in the backpack?” he asked with a nod at the bag near Jordan’s feet.

  “Emergency pack bag for when we’re not on four feet. GPS. Gun. Clothes. Because”—he slid Dane a look—“we’re not that close…even if you did beg for my help.”

  “I didn’t beg. I didn’t even say please.”

  Jordan smirked. “You’ll still get to see a decent amount of my junk because I’m hoping to take the Jeep when we’re close enough to a road.” Then he winced and slapped a hand to his head…a snarl reverberated deep in his throat, and he halfway shifted from man to wolf. A moment later, he shook it off, blinking, and rolled his shoulders.

  Hell, he thought he’d gotten immune to freaky things over the course of the last two weeks. But that was straight out of a B movie. It was like every bad werewolf full-moon change he’d ever seen. Vanessa had never done that.

  “What the hell was that?” Dane shouted as they swung around a corner doing fifty.

  “That was whatever is wrong with me. I feel…obsessed—sick with it.” He cleared his throat. “In fact, you may have saved me a nasty coup. I’ve got a few idiots that see themselves as Alpha. Having a two-legged show deference without asking for it raised my estimation in the eyes of the pack—especially since it was a human as stubborn as you. I should thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I said I should thank you.”

  Dane rolled his eyes and slammed into park in front of her house, saying, “You’re an ass. Get out and get furry.”

  Jordan stepped out and sniffed the air, looking around slowly.

  “Shouldn’t you change?”

  Jordan held up a hand. “Patience, grasshopper…I don’t tell you how to shoot, do I?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, my brain won’t be as clear when I’m in Lycan form…and my sense of smell is the same either way…and…” He pointed. “She went east.”

  “You’re sure?”

  He grinned. “I was planning on mating with her—I know what she smells like. She smells sweet like…”

  “Honeysuckle.” Dane narrowed his eyes.

  “Exactly. That and it’s similar when she’s a wolf, just more…gamey,” he said as he swung back into the Jeep.

  Out of his great respect for the pack’s Alpha, Dane restrained himself to muttering his full arsenal of insults under his breath while scowling and driving in the direction Jordan pointed. He was going slower than they had on the way there and watching Jordan’s face for some sign they were on the right track.

  He’d thought Jordan was too focused on sniffing the air to be listening to his insults until he laughed and said, “Good one.”

  “You’re taking this seriously, right?” Dane asked. It didn’t seem like he was—not as serious as he should be.

  “Yes. Take that right, ahead.”

  “Because if you’re not, I’ll kill you.”

  “Well, I wouldn’t be much use to you
then. In fact, I’d even venture a guess I’d be dead weight.”

  Dane took a deep breath. Today was going to give him a heart attack. He’d never felt this level of fear. His body felt slick with a cold sweat, and his hands clattered against the steering wheel from shaking. If anything happened to her… He never should’ve let her shower alone. He should have recognized she was a flight risk. But she had seemed calmer this morning as they lay in bed talking. He should have known she was too calm—or too something. He should have…

  Jordan punched his arm.

  “What?”

  “Stop it. We’ll find her.”

  “I’m just driving!”

  Jordan snarled and shifted again, his face elongating, his teeth growing…and then he shook it off, blinking. “Sorry. Sorry. I was going to tell you to stop freaking out, but maybe it’s justified.”

  “Stop doing that!”

  “I can’t!”

  “I should have asked Travis for help.”

  Jordan rolled his eyes. “Travis couldn’t find his ass if you put both his hands on it.” He pointed up the road. “Okay, take that turnoff and stop so I can check again.”

  Dane did as directed. Arguing with Jordan did seem to keep his heart from pounding painfully. He pulled over.

  Jordan got out and inhaled deeply, turning in a full circle. “Had to pick a girlfriend that can run a four-and-a-half-minute mile on two feet, didn’t you? If we were chasing any of the other females, we’d be back for lunch.”

  “How fast is she as a Lycan?”

  “Nessa? If her allergies aren’t bad, and she’s not injured, she runs thirty to forty miles an hour. I’d have picked her as Alpha over Cheri a few years back if she hadn’t just punched Liam in the face for sniffing her butt.” He slid a look at Dane. “She was on four feet at the time he’d sniffed her, but it still didn’t fly. Anyway, she broke Liam’s nose and you just never know what’ll happen during sex, so I didn’t want to chance it. Then there’s her allergies…did I mention she’s allergic to marshmallows?”