by Неизвестный
“It is. We have a situation here, and we need to take care of it before it goes any further.”
Malcolm choked down a growl, willing his inner wolf to curl up and settle down. Glenn turned away, already focused on someone else. The little shit intended to fire everyone up before the meeting even started.
The whole damn town showed up, the males anyway. He never mingled with these people, but the deputy had called him personally, and he would be conspicuous in his absence. So he came against his better judgment. Now that he was here, he might as well stick around and satisfy his curiosity.
Rumor and gossip swirled around the new wildlife manager. The local scuttlebutt called the newcomer a left-wing animal-rights activist, a woman hell-bent on destroying their way of life, a bitch. The epithets made her A-okay in his book, a high compliment for a human.
Fifteen years ago when he came to the Wilds, there were no wolves, the last known pack hunted out of existence in the 1800s. The Game Commission took a stance against reintroducing any predatory species. They were afraid it would ruin the hunting for worse predators—the humans. The conservationists argued that wolves played a critical part in balancing the ecosystem—a true wilderness should be home to all indigenous species. When it became politically correct, the feds put wolves on the Endangered Species List and chose to reintroduce them in remote Black Wolf Gorge.
Before his heart attack, Robert McCabe, the previous wildlife manager, campaigned for delisting, hoping he could set them free and declare open season. Still on the Endangered Species List, the wolves had outlasted McCabe.
The town needed some new blood. Too bad this thing with the hiker came up. It would cause a lot of trouble for Ms. Stone, but it had nothing to do with him. He saved his concern for the wolf.
They caught the poor bitch in a leghold trap like the one that almost cost him his leg. He was a wolf-shifter, and he healed quickly, but the ordeal left scars both inside and out. He shoved the bitter memories down deep. It was another life.
The door opened behind him, and a miniature whirlwind passed under his nose, leaving in its wake a scent he sucked in greedily. He rolled the taste around on his tongue, a sweet, smooth confection, peaches and cream. Each and every hair on his body stood erect, and an unwelcome surge of desire settled in his belly.
The little dynamo strode to the front of the room, head back, shoulders straight, a force to be reckoned with. Her jeans were tight and low on her hips, drawing his attention to the curve of her butt. She had an enticing walk. Her long, purposeful strides and swaying hips aroused his inner wolf. He curbed the unruly beast, and it settled reluctantly, a frustrated presence inside him.
It had been a long time since a woman’s essence brought out his wolf. He must be hornier than he thought. Finally, she turned, and with only a glance, set off a jolt that sent his heart hammering. She might as well have pressed shock paddles to his chest. This time his wolf wouldn’t be quieted.
Every feature imprinted itself on his brain. Honey-blonde tendrils escaping from a ponytail curled around a delicate oval face. Dimples came and went with each change of expression. She rolled enormous chocolate eyes at the sheriff, and explosive lust-filled images filled his head.
This fragile human woman, so totally different from the females he’d grown up with, excited all his carnal instincts. Her delicious body took his frustrated libido to a new high. If he had his way, he’d be ripping her clothes off and taking her right here. Thoughts like that would get him in big trouble. He had no business sniffing around the refuge manager. She had to be past the age of consent, but still much too young for an old dog like him. She wasn’t even his type—too short, too pale, too human. Still it couldn’t hurt to look. He growled softly when he saw others doing the same.
Frank leaned in closely and put a possessive hand on her back. She looked uncomfortable with the intimate gesture. So was he. Overwhelmed by an urge to grab her and run, he started toward them. Only the crush of bodies saved him from reaching the sheriff and making an ass of himself. He backed up to his spot by the door.
Every time she looked his way, blood surged to his cock and made it writhe like an impatient serpent. He wanted to feel those lips and tongue on every part of his body, especially the part throbbing between his legs. Never before did he feel more like an animal. He stared at her as if she were Little Red Riding Hood and he were the Big Bad Wolf.
Chapter Three
“Just the way you like it. Black.” Frank offered her a mug and a reassuring smile.
“Bless you.” The coffee was lukewarm but it helped. She played with the stirrer for a few seconds to collect her thoughts.
“Sorry about this.” He gestured around the room, then leaned in so close she could smell the Irish cream liqueur he used to flavor his coffee.
“Glenn told a few people about the wolf and you know how fast word spreads around here. Things just got out of hand.”
“Horseshit,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “He knew exactly what he was doing. Anyway, it’s not your fault. I have to face them sooner or later.”
“Later is right. They’ve been waiting an hour.” He took a big swallow. “The natives are restless.”
“My bad. I had a spill and walked most of the way.”
“Shit, Karin, you need to be more careful on that thing.”
“I’m okay. Don’t know about the Mule though.”
“I’ll take care of the Mule. You worry about the men. Just answer their questions so we can get them the hell outta here.”
“What makes you think they’ll listen to me? Their minds are already made up.”
“They want to hear what you have to say. I warned you there’d be trouble. Maybe I should have looked the other way when we had the chance.”
“You did the right thing.” Frank upheld the law, for the most part, but sometimes he went overboard trying to please the voters. Coming from the city, she was no stranger to corruption but that didn’t mean she’d condone it or turn the other cheek. “You can’t terminate an animal without good reason.”
“Some would say we have plenty of reason. This is not somebody’s pet, Karin. We look at things different here.”
“She’s still classified as an endangered species and under our protection until the Wildlife Bureau tells us different.”
“It’s too late now anyway. With all the notoriety, I can’t take a piss without permission.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”
“Forget it. Everybody’s uptight. We need to stay calm until we’re sure we have all the facts.”
“Most of us are sure already.”
She shook her head in resignation, but she let him have the last word.
A hush fell over the room, and every head turned toward the door. Karin strained her neck to see who the late arrivals were.
For a second, the bright sunlight obscured her vision. Then Jude Outlaw strode into view, his pack following close behind. White-blond hair framed his face like a halo, but he was no angel. Because of him, she limited her trips into town. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl, and she’d become a prime target for his crude sexist remarks. At first she ignored him, but he persisted, and she told him off. He laughed and said it’s a free country. After that, he never missed an opportunity to taunt her, so she avoided him. She hated herself for acting the coward, but he was somebody she didn’t want to mess with—a bully and a predator like the men she left back in the city.
The locals had no problem with him. Men called greetings and slapped his back as he shoved his way toward her. Thankfully, she couldn’t see his eyes behind dark sunglasses, but his arrogant stance set her teeth on edge. The sharp planes of his face creased in a smirk, and suddenly the small room felt even smaller. She averted her gaze from his face and noticed part of a black tattoo peeking out from a rolled-up sleeve.
“Like what you see?” He crossed his arms over his chest, revealing a bit more of the tattoo—fangs or, maybe, claws.
“Can it, Jude.” The sheriff’s quiet drawl commanded respect. “Karin,” he whispered in an aside. “Let’s get on with it.”
“They act like a pack of hyenas.”
“Don’t worry.” Frank pressed his fingers into her spine. “I’ve got your back.”
She forced a smile. Sometimes he came on too strong, but she appreciated his presence. They disagreed on just about everything, but he stood by her when no one else would. She glanced over at the deputy.
Glenn shifted the ever-present toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other and bared tobacco-stained teeth in a derisive grin. One twitchy hand rested on the butt of his gun while the other adjusted his crotch. He just turned twenty-seven, but he acted like a kid playing cowboys and Indians. Always a hothead, he didn’t need much of an excuse to flaunt his weapons—both of them. The man thrived on trouble. He’d provoke it himself to stir up a little excitement.
The drone of impatient grumbling rose to a crescendo. Frank slammed a palm on the counter. “Give the little lady a chance to say her piece.”
She winced at his choice of words. That’s the way men talked in Black Wolf, but she’d never get used to it. She scoured the room for support. The men either glared back or turned away until she locked eyes with a tall man in the back. He leaned insolently against the rack that held the trail maps, permit information, and self-guiding brochures. He was a stranger, but then she didn’t know many people yet. His don’t-fuck-with-me expression gave him the look of a loner. In the midst of the crowd, he controlled his space. She could appreciate that. She tended to keep people at arm’s length herself. She learned the hard way to beware strangers.
Frank might be a good friend now, but it had taken her a few months to warm up to him. His touchy-feely behavior got on her nerves. His occasional breach troubled her, but she tolerated it in the name of friendship.
The stranger made her curious, but so what? He would turn out to be like all the other men she met here, just another pea-brained Neanderthal with three things on his mind—hunting, fishing, and fucking.
He sent a lopsided grin across the room that made her toes curl.
Uh oh. This one could be trouble with a capital T. He watched her like a single-minded wolf stalking its prey.
The old Karin might have welcomed the attention. Scaredy-cat Karin would be hyperventilating, but what about this new and improved Karin who could leap tall mountains in a single bound? Coming to Black Wolf had been a good move. She felt safer and her confidence level had gone up a notch. She’d done things she never knew she was capable of, but that didn’t mean she was ready for a man in her life. But, if the day ever came, this one would be a contender. Tall, dark, and handsome might be a cliché but it fit—sort of. He walked a narrow line between handsome and rough that she found extremely sexy. Something about his rugged good looks and his arousing grin awakened the vixen in her and made her feel wild and wanton.
His gaze dropped from her face to her shoulders to her breasts, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. When he raised his eyes to hers, they broadcast a sinful message, stirring some long-denied feeling she wasn’t ready to revisit. He eased his weight from one foot to the other, and her gaze shifted below the belt. Her breath caught at the way he filled out his faded jeans. When she lifted her head, he gave her a conspiratorial wink, sending adrenaline coursing through her body. His arrogant attitude pissed her off. She shot him a frosty look to let him know just how immune she was to his charms. Exasperation tightened her chest, and she turned away. She didn’t need this. She had important issues to address. She cleared her throat nervously.
“Some of you don’t know me yet. I’m Karin Stone, the new wildlife manager.” She paused to let the catcalls and war whoops die down. “I know you’re all upset about what’s happened—”
“Damn right!” Jude called out. A ripple of nodding heads and a chorus of yeses followed. “We should be out there right now hunting wolf.” His buddy let out a howl, and Jude pantomimed a rifle shot right between his eyes. Raucous laughter from thirty men bounced off the walls.
“Okay, boys. Enough.” Frank tried to restore order, but the men shouted him down.
“We want to know how the wolf got loose.”
“How many are out there?”
“One at a time, please.” Karin raised her voice. “The wolf caught in the trap is not one of ours. Our pack is tagged, and they’re all accounted for.”
“So there could be more?”
“It’s unlikely.” She crossed her fingers behind her back. She had no idea where the wolf came from. For all she knew, there could be another pack roaming the woodlands.
“What about rabies?”
“Also unlikely. There’s no fever, excessive drooling, or signs of aggression.” Except toward her and she refused to condemn an animal for hating its jailer.
“A man is dead. I’d call that a pretty good sign of aggression.” A wave of angry muttering rolled toward her like a tsunami, and she put her hands up in a bid for quiet.
“Right now the Wildlife Bureau wants the wolf confined and under observation. If she develops symptoms, she’ll be euthanized.”
“And we’re supposed to just sit around and wait until these predators wipe out our livestock and hurt our families?” Jude knew exactly which buttons to push to get the men going, not that they needed much of an excuse to drag out the hunting rifles. What could she say to calm them down? All her instincts told her not to blame the wolf, but if she downplayed the danger and someone else suffered…She didn’t even want to think about the possibility.
“Look, we don’t know what really happened in the gorge. The man could have died from natural causes and then was ravaged by scavengers.”
“Bullshit!” Jude edged closer. “What makes you the expert? We’ve lived here all our lives.”
“Maybe so, but I know wolves.” She tried to gauge the crowd. How far would they go?
“And I know we’re just wasting time here.” Jude pumped the air with his fist. “Are we gonna let the feds dictate how we live? Or are we gonna act like men and protect our families and property!”
The men roared approval.
Jude flashed a satanic smile. She watched a muscle twitch in his jaw. The crowd lurched behind him, pushing him forward. Trembling, she held her ground. If they wanted the wolf, they’d have to go through her.
Chapter Four
“That wolf is dead meat.” Jude hissed, his face only a few scant inches from Karin’s.
Okay, Frank. Now would be a good time to jump in.
A hasty look in the sheriff’s direction wasn’t reassuring. He looked torn, as if he couldn’t resolve which side to take.
Make up your mind before things get ugly.
Jude’s face mutated into a sinister mask. “Keep out of my way and you—”
Jude's body jerked backward as if invisible cables pulled him away. His feet lifted off the floor, and his arms windmilled helplessly. His sunglasses went flying when he landed hard on his ass.
Hoots and hollers exploded in the background, but they died away when he got up. His face twisted with fury as he turned to confront his attacker.
Karin looked too, and her eyes went wide. The dark stranger had become her white knight. He stood in a slight crouch, his body tense as a well-coiled spring. Head cocked, he watched Jude with keen attention. His eyes darkened like solar eclipses—pinpoint flares circled huge black pupils. She blinked in disbelief, and the flames disappeared.
The two men circled, warily sizing each other up. Neither one took his eyes off the other. The crowd went berserk, sensing a good fight, and they backed off to give the men more room.
“You’ll pay for this, Malcolm.” Jude advanced, balled his hands into fists, and swung.
Malcolm blocked, then came back with a lightning-fast jab to the gut.
Jude doubled over. He let out a soft oomph and staggered back as the crowd protested.
“I’ll kill you for this.” Jude recovered an
d charged, the blade of a flick-knife glittering in his hand. Horrified, Karin screamed, but Malcolm had already grabbed Jude’s wrist, twisting until the knife clattered to the floor. The man moved so fast. He had the reflexes of a cat.
Jude’s mouth straightened into a hard line. Unafraid to move into the taller man’s range, he peppered Malcolm with a series of ineffective punches.
Malcolm caught him coming out of a crouch and landed a right to his jaw that snapped his head back. He moved in for the kill, but Frank came up behind him and yanked his arms behind his back to restrain him.
Jude took advantage of the opportunity. He worked his arm like a pile driver and delivered a full-force blow to Malcolm’s nose.
His eyes watered, and he shook his head, spraying blood in a wide arc.
“Knock him out,” someone in the crowd bellowed, and Jude pulled his arm back for another punch.
“Stop it!” she shouted at Frank, knowing Jude would never listen to her.
Frank’s contorted expression disturbed her. She had the sinking feeling that he would like nothing better than to let Jude kill her knight. When he looked her way, the ugly expression vanished so fast she thought she might have misread him.
“That’s enough, Jude,” Frank bellowed.
Jude pulled his punch at the last second. Panting and sullen, he scowled at Malcolm, who stared back in silence.
“Malcolm, I’m gonna let you go. Don’t be stupid.” Frank released the man’s arms, then stepped between him and Jude. “All right, boys, that’s enough.”
The crowd rumbled, disappointed that the entertainment was over.
“Let’s chalk this up to a friendly disagreement and leave it at that.” Frank’s tone dared them to say different. “We don’t need to be fighting amongst ourselves. Next thing you know, we’ll have the state troopers, the park authority, and God knows who else breathing down our necks.” He looked from one to the other. “Are we in agreement here, Jude?”
He clenched his fists and nodded.
“Malcolm?”
After a few seconds, he nodded too.