Warrior Wolf (Shifter Falls Book 3)

by Amy Green

  “If we’re going to find him, or evidence of him, I want to do it in daylight,” Nadine said. “But if we do, that leaves the possibility that I’ll have to restrain him as a prisoner overnight.” Her gaze left the map and she looked up at him. “Do you think you can handle that?”

  “Are you asking if I’m going to rip his throat out while you’re sleeping?” he asked. “I told you you’d get your arrest, and I meant it.”

  She reddened a little. “I just thought, your wolf—”

  “My wolf is me,” he said. “He made the promise just like I did. And a wolf who breaks a promise is no wolf at all.”

  “All right,” she said, putting the map down. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Let’s go.”

  She was quiet as she drove, and so was he. It was half an hour before it occurred to him that silence probably wasn’t a good idea. Try not to scare the hell out of her, Anna had said. Sitting here scowling probably fit in that category. So he tried for conversation. “You’re not married?”

  Subtle, wolf. Subtle.

  “I’m not,” Nadine said. “Never have been. The job has too many commitments, too many hours. Plus, aside from my deputies and other law enforcement types, I don’t meet very many men.” She tried to smile, but there was something heavy weighing it down. She gave him a sidelong glance. “My mother despairs of me.”

  “What’s she like?” he asked, curious. “Your mother.”

  “My mother is good people,” Nadine said. “She’s hard-headed, practical. She taught me that. My daddy is a retired cop, so she knows what the job is like. She understands it in her logical mind, but that doesn’t stop her motherly side from wishing I’d have a big wedding she could cry at.”

  Devon looked out his window. Wedding? Shifters didn’t have weddings. That wasn’t something he’d ever give her, if that was what she wanted. He didn’t dare to ask.

  Once again, she didn’t notice that he was tied in knots. She gave him another sidelong look, this one suppressing curiosity. “I suppose you Donovans fight women off every day,” she said.

  It was almost, not quite, a question. She was asking without asking.

  He gave her the truth, as he always did. “The only women I meet are strippers and hookers.”

  She swerved, righting the wheel with a jerk.

  “Relax,” he told her. “Strip clubs and prostitutes were big business in my father’s day. There were a lot of women like that in the Falls. With Brody as alpha now, we’re trying to clean that up. The women are my job. I help them get other work, get clean, get out of the life if they need it, or move.”

  Nadine cleared her throat. “Why you?” she asked.

  Devon looked out his window, watching Colorado fly by. It was a beautiful August day, free of the excessive heat that could plague the lower altitudes. Instead the sky was clear blue glass, the air so pure it almost hurt. The mountains loomed in the distance, as familiar to him as the lines of his own body; he’d never been out of Colorado, and likely never would. “A lot of those women already know me from Charlie’s day,” he said. “Heath is too attractive, and Ian is mated. Brody is alpha, so he has to delegate. That leaves me.”

  “You’re attractive,” she argued.

  He laughed softly as his wolf basked in the praise. “Tell Heath that,” he said.

  She made a disgusted sound that was completely charming. “Devon, half those strippers, or former strippers, would fall at your feet. I guarantee it.”

  He didn’t tell her that he’d had offers from time to time, which he turned down because his wolf wouldn’t touch another woman. Try not to scare the hell out of her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She gave him yet another sideways look; this one might have been a glare. So she didn’t like the idea of him with strippers and hookers, did she? She had no idea that she had nothing to worry about. “You and Heath don’t get along,” she observed, changing the subject.

  “I don’t get along with anyone,” Devon said. “Least of all my brothers.”

  “You get along with Ian okay,” she said.

  “I tried to kill Ian years ago,” he replied. “I lost.”

  She thought about that. “Well, you don’t seem to mind Brody.”

  She was on dangerous ground here, walking a field full of landmines. No one knew the truth about his fight with Ian, not even Ian himself. And Brody… There were things Devon knew about Brody, about his childhood and his mother, that he would never tell. Things that Brody never talked about, and would probably deny if Devon spoke them. Right before he ripped Devon’s heart out.

  “Brody is my alpha,” he said. “We chose him freely, and he does a good job. The rest of us support him because that’s what we do. But Brody and I are not friends. We don’t hang out and drink beer or something, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Wolves were loners, and Donovans especially so. And Brody was pure Donovan blood.

  “Well, I don’t have any siblings at all, so I don’t know how that works,” she said. “Fighting with them, or being friends with them. I’m friends with my daddy, I suppose, but it’s mostly because he’s my mentor.

  “Does h like the fact that you’re sheriff?”

  She seemed to think it over as she exited the highway for a smaller country road. “He’s proud, of course. I’m the only child, so he never had a son. Not that he wanted one.” She said this hurriedly, as if worried she was making her father sound like a jerk. “I just, you know—he pinned his hopes on me, the way parents do. They both did.”

  Devon stared at her. He had no idea what that felt like—none at all. Two normal parents, raising you and hoping you got a good job, got married, had a big wedding. With the life he led, hers could have happened on Mars instead of the next county over. “It sounds nice,” he managed. He didn’t deserve her. He didn’t remotely deserve her.

  “It’s nice, I guess,” she agreed. “I became a cop because my dad expected it of me, but I like it. It’s the only job I want to do. Every other career just looks insufferable to me. I’d lose my mind.”

  “You’d be bored?” he asked.

  “I need excitement,” she said. “And not the kind that comes from spreadsheets or meetings. I need to do something. I need to move, get my hands dirty, take on challenges, put bad guys away. I need to use my wits and my guts and my body every day. Even as a cop, I have so many days where all I do is paperwork, sitting in an office. It drives me crazy sometimes—the politics, the meetings, the duplicate reports. I have so many days where I want—where I need—more. Just more. You know?”

  Her cheeks were flushed with the passion of this little speech, her lips parted, and he thought, That’s her. That’s a wolf woman, right there. Strength and fearlessness. Not the woman who was terrified of rules, but a woman who could stand up to a pack and not back down. A woman who could show that same fierceness in bed with her mate night after night without tiring. She had it in her. He’d always known it—his wolf had recognized it—but he’d never seen her express it so clearly until this moment.

  “You should come to Shifter Falls,” he told her. “We have plenty of excitement.”

  “I’ve been there, remember?” she said. “I seem to recall your half-brother Ian setting fire to a campsite in the mountains to draw me out again and distract me.”

  “We were busy,” he said, unapologetic. “We were fighting off a rival pack. You were in the way.”

  “Still, I’m the enemy,” she persisted. “Human cops are the enemy, right?”

  “I spent twenty-five years under Charlie Donovan’s rule as alpha,” Devon said. “The last thing we need are any more goddamn enemies.”

  They were quiet after that. Behind them, the sun rose, and set the mountains aflame.

  11

  It took until the sun was high to get to the end of the road, the unpaved back roads slowing them down. Then they pulled over, parked, and walked.

  Nadine had packed a map, a compass, and a GPS, but there seemed to be no need for these, as D
evon had directions in his head. She had also brought water, a sandwich, and a selection of granola and protein bars, but he didn’t need those either. He simply kept on without eating.

  “You’re not hungry?” she asked as she followed at his shoulder.

  “I’ll hunt later,” he said.

  He was wearing his usual jeans and boots, with a zip-up hoodie and a thermal Henley beneath it. He had no other clothes with him, nor any sleeping roll or extra layers for night. Wolves were impervious to cold, she remembered. Devon Donovan could do this whole hike naked and not feel a thing.

  That was the wrong thought to have right now, when he was just ahead of her, walking. Shifters moved more gracefully than humans, which she was observing up close right now. His stride was powerful, even with his limp, every muscle under control. Nadine had grown up hiking frequently—she loved it—and she’d kept as fit as she could with so much desk work, but she was out of breath keeping up with him. Her legs were a lot shorter. To add insult to injury, she suspected he was going very slowly, for him, in deference to her.

  “You want a break?” he asked after the first hour.

  Her thighs were burning and her lungs were on fire, so she nodded. “Just ten minutes,” she said.

  He picked a small clearing to rest, and she disappeared into the bushes for a few minutes. When she came back, she found him crouched close to the ground, his legs braced, his wrists draped over his knees. She could see the flame tattoo that climbed from his left shirt cuff.

  “You okay?” he asked, looking up at her with his dark eyes.

  Nadine nodded. “Humiliated, that’s all. I thought I was a better hiker.” She dropped onto a fallen tree and pulled a water bottle out of her pack.

  He shrugged. “You’re human.” He looked away, and she could swear he was scenting the wind.

  “You think the Silverman came all this way?” she asked, watching him.

  “I know it,” he said.

  She sat up. “You mean you can smell him?” Funny, that she had scoffed not too long ago at the power of a wolf’s sense of smell. Now she took it for granted. Part of it was being out here, in just nature, with everything else gone. She could feel the stresses and politics of her job falling away, more insignificant with each passing minute. It was so beautiful here in the mountains. It had been too long since she’d been here in the quiet, looking at the landscape that made her heart leap.

  “No,” Devon said, answering her question. Still he looked off into the distance, his gaze distracted. “I know he’s been here because I can feel it in my wound.”

  The limp embarrassed him, she knew now. It made him feel like less of a wolf. As if Devon Donovan could be less of anything.

  “I’ll try not to slow you down too much,” she said.

  He turned and looked at her.

  “Come on,” she said. “I know this is child’s play for you. You could have been up at that mine twenty-four hours ago. You could be up there right now.”

  “And you could have arrested me, or shot me, and gone without me,” he replied.

  That surprised her. “I never really thought about shooting you,” she said, “but don’t give me any ideas. I never go anywhere without my service weapon.” It was in her pack right now, along with extra ammunition.

  He smiled a little at that; he was beautiful when he smiled, the harshness vanished from his expression. “You could have arrested me back in Pierce Point,” he said. “I’m a wolf, and I have no alibi for the murders. No one would have questioned it. You could have closed the cases and saved your job in one stroke.”

  “I could have,” she admitted, “but a killer would walk free. You must not know me very well.”

  He nodded. “If you think I could walk off and leave you behind in the wilderness, then you must not know me very well.”

  That made her smile, too, and for a brief minute she felt a mix of peace and pulsing excitement, as if she was exactly where she was supposed to be. Up here in the mountains, her mind clear, her blood pumping. With him. As if whatever happened next, be it terrifying or wonderful, was simply what was going to happen. And for the first time she thought she could handle it. Whatever was coming, she could handle it.

  They caught their breath and started walking again. “What did you tell them back in Pierce Point?” Devon asked her over his shoulder as he led the way. As before, he knew which direction to take.

  “I told the office I was coming up this way to check out the mine,” she replied, “but that I was coming alone. A quick scouting expedition.”

  “Will they worry?” he asked.

  There was no cell signal this far up, which he probably knew, even though he hated cell phones. “Maybe a little,” she admitted, “but if I check in as soon as I can, they’ll leave me alone.”

  “They don’t look after you enough,” he grumbled.

  She punched his shoulder, which felt like punching Mount Rushmore. “I’m the sheriff,” she reminded him. “No one needs to look after me.”

  “Being sheriff doesn’t make you six inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier,” he replied.

  So he was going to play the big, protective wolf, was he? It was kind of cute, but she needed to make things clear. “I’m fully trained, Devon,” she said. “I can track, hike, shoot. I know self-defense. I took one of those survival courses in case I ever get stranded up here. I’ve taken down drunk men twice my size.”

  “I know,” he said. “You weren’t afraid to arrest me. Just instinct, that’s all.”

  There was no time like the present, so she took the plunge. “You ever gonna tell me about that night I arrested you?” she asked him.

  His silence lasted one heartbeat too long. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean tell me what really happened. Tell me what I missed.”

  He slowed, stopped. Turned and looked at her.

  Nadine was out of breath again, but she kept her chin up. “Well?” she asked.

  His face was inscrutable behind the beard, but she was starting to learn it. His eyes were bright with something like panic. His lips twitched, which meant there were words he wanted to speak, but he was holding back. His breathing was harsh, and it wasn’t because of the hiking. She’d riled something inside him, deep.

  So she waited. She was learning that, too—werewolves were like quiet storms sometimes, especially this one. With a werewolf, a minute or two of silence during a conversation while you came up with an answer was not considered awkward. The other person just had to wait.

  But Nadine was human, so she finally said again, “Well?”

  “You weren’t supposed to notice,” he said.

  She got it now. He didn’t want to tell her the truth, but he also didn’t want to lie, so he was hedging. He may be half wolf, but this maneuver was classic human male. “Well, I did notice,” she said, tapping her temple. “I’m smart. I’m not one of your strippers and hookers, Devon Donovan. I get by on my brains, not my looks.”

  That got him. His gaze wandered away. “It doesn’t matter now,” he hedged again. “And there’s nothing wrong with your looks.” He turned and started walking again.

  They were climbing now, an incline that wasn’t dangerous but was too sharp for her legs’ liking. Devon, of course, limped up without seeming to tire. She swatted aside the branches in her face and said, “We never closed that case, you know. The man dead in the alley.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said again. In the distance thunder rumbled, as if mirroring his mood.

  Damn it, she had only brought a rain jacket, and no other rain gear. “I’m going to get it out of you, wolf, before we go back down this mountain.”

  He didn’t answer, not even with a sharp comeback. Whatever this was, it bothered him. Which only made her more determined to find it.

  They saw the first indications of the mine thirty minutes later—some broken-down fence posts with the wire long gone, a faded sign. PRIVATE PROPERTY. DANGER. It was overgrown here, in the wa
y of land that had once been cleared by humans and was now going back to nature: vines, tall weeds, saplings that were just starting to become trees. Nadine spotted the remains of a gravel road, now choked with weeds, and the rotted remains of a wooden hut, probably used as a guard hut of some kind. The land had leveled out and Devon walked faster, more sure than ever of where he was going.

  The mine had once been surrounded by buildings, the low, quick-build kind that were used to house workers this far up the mountain. Most of them were rotted piles of timber now, barely recognizable. A big clearing indicated a parking lot or dropoff area. And beyond that was the mine itself, boarded up, covered in signs. There was an entrance here, but the mine stretched for a mile at least, with entrances likely elsewhere on the perimeter.

  They found a shed that was still standing and dropped their packs. Nadine sat down in the dirt, letting the strain ease from her legs. It was dinnertime now, the sun starting to set, and she was hungry.

  Devon stayed standing, looking down at her. “It’s better if I do a perimeter run as a wolf,” he said. “Faster, and my senses are better. I’ll be as quick as I can, but you’ll be alone.”

  Nadine reached into her pack and pulled out her service revolver. “I’m loaded,” she said. “I’ll be fine. Just don’t surprise me or you might get shot.”

  “Just what I need,” he said dryly, unzipping his hoodie and pulling it off. He dropped it on top of his pack, pulling off his Henley and dropping it on top.

  “Hey,” she managed through a mouth that had suddenly gone dry. Good God, he was a tower of muscle. Tattoos of flames twisted up from his wrist, up his arm, over his shoulder and part of his pectoral muscle, and continued up his neck. No other symbols or pictures—only fire. The flames moved as he did, as if they licked him in a constant burn. It was so hypnotic that she couldn’t pretend not to stare, so she didn’t bother. She just gaped at him.