The Pack Rules Boxed Set: The Complete Series of Wolf, Bear, and Dragon Shifter Romances

by Michele Bardsley

  The knob rattled as he opened the creaking door. For the thousandth time, he wondered why Hope had chosen this dilapidated old place for a retreat. Musty smells of dust and disuse assailed his nostrils. The door clicked shut behind him. She’d talked about this place and about her grandmother. He’d met Gran a time or two—the old lady was a real hoot—though he’d never been to Silver City. It was one of things that he and Hope had said they’d do—and never did.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he realized he faced a large room. On the left was a staircase. He discerned the cloth-covered objects in the occasional flash of lightning. He’d probably scare Hope to death if he showed up outside her door. Should he yell for her?

  The dread he’d been trying to ignore bloomed in his stomach.

  Gabe made a decision. He put his hand on the rail and stepped up. Too late, he heard the creak and registered the presence on the stairs. Strong, white light blinded him He reared back, but too late. The huge flashlight clipped him on the chin.

  BEFORE HE HAD time to utter “ouch,” the damned fool woman launched into him with enough force to knock him to the floor. He threw his arms around the flailing female before landing on his backside with a painful thud.

  He clamped his arms around her. Thick, lavender-scented hair covered him, clogging his ability to breathe. The suffocation-by-hair ceased suddenly. Gabe inhaled a deep breath, only to find his face squeezed between the rounded swells of two pert breasts. Oh, man. He’d missed those breasts. He’d missed everything about her.

  “Are you okay?” he asked against the soft, sweet-smelling flesh pressed to his lips.

  White-hot pain shot through him as her knee made contact with his groin.

  “Shit!” His senses focused on the sharp ache that stole his breath and his will to live. He released Hope. One of her elbows found its way between his ribs as she scrambled off. Gabe heard her light footsteps as she retreated. She’d chosen to run into a dark, eerie section of the decrepit building, which he assumed was the saloon.

  Not that he damned well cared right now. He just wished dying would stop taking so long. After years had passed—or maybe it was only a minute or so—the pain dulled enough for Gabe to climb to his feet.

  He cautiously picked his way through the dust-covered tables and chairs. His heated emotions melted under the ever-present foreboding. Hope hadn’t recognized him, and she was obviously terrified.

  His boots thumped the dusty wood floor, a ghostly echo in the cavernous room. Rain pounded against the stained glass windows. Lightning flashed, and Gabe spotted the long, wooden bar to his right. He scanned the dark interior, but couldn’t see any other exits or doors. His beautiful psychic had taken refuge behind the only place to hide.

  His groin ached still, but at least the pain had subsided to a bearable level. Gabe knew she’d reacted from fright and self-preservation. He needed to calm her, to reassure her. Yeah. That’s it. He would throttle her after she was reassured.

  Gabe stopped in front of the long brass and wood bar. Attached swivel stools lined the front, and he put a hand on one as he peered over the edge. The vinyl felt slick underneath his palm. He heard a soft swoosh as the cushion depressed under his arm’s weight.

  “Freeze, dirtbag.” Hope popped up from behind the bar.

  Startled, Gabe stepped back. She pointed a tiny gun right at his chest. Sweat broke out on his brow as she carelessly waved what appeared to be a derringer at his heart. She moved the gun in an awkward motion. He swallowed heavily. If he wasn’t careful, she might accidentally plug him one, but Hope had never liked guns, and he couldn’t believe she owned one, much less would use one.

  A gush of soda water blasted him in the face. The cold liquid invaded his eyes, nose and mouth, causing him to stumble sputtering from the bar.

  HOPE DROPPED THE soda dispenser. Her heart thudded in her chest. She spun around and darted into the kitchen. A few seconds later, the door creaked open.

  She stilled, pressing her back against the cabinets and put a trembling hand against her mouth to stop the scream welling within. Maybe he wouldn’t see her. Maybe he would think she’d run toward the stairs...

  “I know you’re in here, Hope.”

  Three things sent her mental alarms clanging. He knew her name. He also spoke in a tone of voice adults reserved for unruly children and the insane. And he sounded like…no.

  His footsteps warned her that he had walked further into the kitchen. His movements were slow, deliberate. Then his presence loomed before her, his boot making contact with her bare toes.

  “Oh, my God! You and your big bear feet.”

  “You love my bear feet.”

  “Loved. Past tense. Like us.” She found herself pinned between the counter and Gabe’s muscular body. His shirt was wet from the soaking she’d given him and as he pushed closer, her thin nightgown dampened. To her horror, her nipples pebbled against his chest. Her lips touched the small bit of flesh showing through his unbuttoned shirt, and her nose reached the point below his collarbone. She breathed in an earthy, masculine scent.

  “I haven’t given up on us,” he whispered.

  Hah. She opened her mouth to speak, but her lips scraped against the rough material of his shirt. Relief shuddered through her when he stepped back, but didn’t let her go. She felt an uncomfortable, tingling sensation. He hesitated, his entire body thrumming with a tension she couldn’t define. The air around them thickened with an odd expectancy.

  Hope lifted her head and gasped. His face was too near. Though her eyesight had adjusted to the darkness, she couldn’t clearly make out his features. It didn’t matter. She knew every curve and plane of his stubborn face. Sharp cheekbones spoke of his bear shifter heritage. He had a strong, slightly crooked nose, straight brows, chocolate-brown eyes, and beautiful lips.

  Gabe’s breath fanned her cheek, those beautiful lips far too close to her own.

  “Don’t you dare kiss me, Gabriel Lucas Pearson!”

  He let go and moved back, and Hope sagged against the counter.

  “Think we can get a light on in here?” he asked.

  Hope swallowed the dryness in her throat. “The switch is by the door.”

  She heard his footsteps, and then a click. Dim light illuminated the utilitarian kitchen. Her former fiancé turned and leaned a hip against the opposite counter. Nausea roiled through her as she remembered the nightmare that had cut short her sleep. She didn’t remember details, just the terror it invoked. Was it a coincidence that Gabe had shown up this night, right after she’d had a terrible dream? She rubbed her arms to fend off the chill encompassing her.

  “Why are you here?”

  3

  HOPE WATCHED GABE dragged his hand through his already tousled brown hair. She sensed his puzzlement, his deepening dread. He shoved his hands into his pockets. “One of my clients is missing. We rescued her and her son from her abusive husband and relocated them to Tahoe. We do a weekly check-in. She’s never missed a single call. Not once. Until last night.”

  Hope trusted Gabe’s instincts. As a shifter, his senses were far stronger than a human’s, and he was able to detect danger a lot faster, too. It was part of why he was so good at his job. “You went to her place today?”

  “Yeah. No signs of a struggle in her home. I interviewed the closest neighbor, and she said she’d talked to Donna yesterday afternoon. I called the morgue and all the hospitals. No Jane or John Does have shown up.”

  “Well, no news is good news, right? What did Rafe and Mike say?”

  Gabe looked away. “I didn’t tell them. They’re with their mates, doing that couples’ retreat in New Mexico.”

  Hope’s stomach dropped. She and Gabe had made those plans with his siblings. Three couples on a magnificent getaway. She’d completely forgotten about that trip. Leaving Gabe had meant leaving the Pearsons, including Amelia and Gretchen. She missed them all so much, but her fears for Gabe meant not having any contact. Every sacrifice she made was worth
it if she saved Gabe. Now, here he was, asking for her help.

  She was torn. She couldn’t leave a mother and a child in the hands of an abuser. Still, was this the situation she’d been dreading? She’d left Gabe to protect him. Would helping him now lead to his death?

  “Will you help me find Donna and Joey?”

  Hope met Gabe’s distraught gaze and felt her heart squeeze. She resisted the urge to comfort him, to wipe the worry from his brow. No matter how much she wanted to, for Gabe’s sake, she couldn’t say no. She’d just have to figure out a way to protect him.

  He flipped open his wallet and withdrew a small photo. It was a candid shot of a young brunette and a boy who couldn’t be older than four with the same eye color and the same smile. Hope’s anxiety grew. Helping Gabe put him at risk, but not helping him...

  She looked down at the photo of the mother and son, hugging and laughing. A happier day. “Yes,” she said. “I’ll do it. We’ll need to go to her home. Being surrounded by their possessions will help me connect with them.”

  “Thank you.” He tucked the photo back into his wallet.

  She nodded. Please don’t let him get hurt. She waved at Gabe. “C’mon.”

  Hope led Gabe to her upstairs bedroom and left him staring at the smoldering fire. She went into the small bathroom and changed into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt then brushed her hair. After she returned to the bedroom, she reached for the overnight bag in the armoire, placed it on the bed and opened her dresser drawers, looking for necessary items. She filled the bag with jeans, sweaters, and other clothing essentials.

  Gabe sat down on her bed, and in the dim firelight, Hope saw the shadows under his eyes and his unshaven jaw. Even tired, her ex-fiancé was still incredibly handsome.

  Hope zipped up the bag. “You need to rest, Gabe. We can start fresh in the morning.”

  He turned as though he planned to lie down. Her heart skipped a beat. Oh, if only she could slide into his embrace and feel his skin against hers.

  “Get your bear butt off my bed. You can have any room on this floor except this one.”

  He stood up, stretching to crack his back. Then he looked at her. “Why did you leave me?” he asked softly. “And don’t give me that bullshit about needing your space and us growing apart.”

  “I do and we did.” She pointed to the door. “Good night.”

  THE NEXT DAY, Hope waited for Gabe to return from a morning trip into Reno. Curled on a red-velvet settee in front of the saloon’s large picture window, she stared at the muck that had once been a dirt road. She’d called Gran and told her about Gabe and the missing family, so the older woman wouldn’t worry about her.

  The Jeep appeared, easily conquering the mud, and Gabe parked it outside the saloon. He jumped out of the vehicle. He wore confidence nearly as well as he wore those faded jeans. He also wore a thick brown sweater and hiking boots. Her gut clenched as longing wound through her. She missed sharing a bed with him, holding him, listening to him…

  He entered the saloon and strode toward her. “I got munchies and gassed up the car.” He stopped about a foot from her, his gaze hungry as he took in her jeans and green sweater. She knew that look—like he was about strip her naked and rock her world. “Including a bag of chocolate Kisses.”

  Her heart fluttered as she considered her world rocked. She pushed aside the impulse to wrap her arms around him neck and let him kiss her stupid. Instead, she asked, “How are the roads?”

  “Slow-going. It’s good thing we’re taking my Jeep and not your Honda.” He frowned. “Cold front is coming in. That rainstorm last night was just the first volley from Mother Nature. It’s starting to snow. The sooner we leave, the better. It’s almost noon.”

  Hope stood and picked up her overnight bag. Chill seeped into her limbs. No, wait. Stop, please. She clutched the bag’s nylon straps, feeling the material rub against her stiff fingers, she grabbed for the bit of reality.

  Her vision blurred.

  No longer safe, no more peace.

  Cold. So cold. I’m outside. Blinding snow. Ice everywhere.

  Gabe!

  “Run,” he yells.

  I can’t. I won’t.

  Then there are only screams.

  And blood.

  Hope blinked, but her vision remained cloudy. Someone gripped her arms and spoke to her. So cold...she shivered, her teeth chattering.

  “Come back to me, Hope. C’mon, sweetheart.”

  The gruff-spoken words filtered into her consciousness. She clung to them like a lifeline. She was okay. She was fine. Then everything snapped into place, and Hope realized Gabe had her by the shoulders, his scowling countenance inches away.

  “Are you okay?”

  She stared at the movement of his lips then focused on Gabe’s face. He looked pale despite his tan, rugged features.

  “I need to s-sit down, p-please.”

  “You feel like ice. What the hell did you see?” He lowered her to the settee.

  Hope shook her head, unable to speak. He grabbed a throw from the back of the small divan and wrapped it around her. His arms stayed around her shoulders, holding the blanket in place. She couldn’t help but enjoy the comforting weight of his arms. She selfishly leaned into his embrace, stealing as much of his warmth and strength as she could.

  The cold dissipated. Soon, her teeth stopped chattering, and she stopped shivering. Reluctantly she withdrew from Gabe and shrugged out of the throw. His arms fell away, but his scent lingered around her. She felt his strength buoying her. She looked at him and saw the questions in his eyes.

  “Sorry. That happens sometimes.”

  “Since when?”

  Since the first time I saw your death.

  “C’mon, Hope. Tell me about the vision.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was too vague. Images without connections. Sorry, Gabe. It’s not related to Joey or Donna.”

  “Okay. But what was it related to?”

  She shook her head again. “I don’t know.”

  He frowned, his gaze narrowing as he considered her words. She’d always been a bad liar. She stood up, and grabbed her bag once more. “Let’s go.”

  As soon the saloon was locked up, they got into Gabe’s Jeep. As they drove away, Silver Creek became, once again, a row of forgotten buildings.

  “I like the saloon—and the town,” said Gabe.

  “I should’ve taken you here a long time ago,” she said, regret soft in her voice. “But I’m glad you finally got to see it.”

  “I can see why you loved spending the summers here.”

  Silence settled in the car. Only the soft swoosh of the heater and the occasional squeal of the windshield wipers interrupted the quiet. Snowflakes drifted from the gray sky, but Hope knew it was just the pre-show. Soon the winter storm would hit full force. They needed to get to Tahoe before it did.

  By the time they had traveled the winding road down the mountains and got onto the highway, Hope felt drowsy. She yawned a couple of times.

  “With this crappy weather, it’s going to be a few hours before we get there,” Gabe said. “Why don’t you recline the seat and get some rest?”

  “What if you need me to drive?” she asked as she pushed back the seat.

  He glanced at her with a cocked eyebrow. “I’ll let you know.”

  She heard his light sarcasm and resisted sticking out her tongue. For a moment, she felt the old spark, the connection that had made them so perfect for each other.

  Fool. She closed her eyes. There’s no happily-ever-after for us.

  4

  GABE LOOKED AT Hope’s sleeping form in the passenger seat. Her mouth, slightly open, pursed and her pink tongue flicked across her bottom lip. The scent of her perfume intruded on his consciousness. Lavender. He shifted uncomfortably as he felt a surge in his groin. He clenched the steering wheel and decided he’d better keep his gaze on the road.

  “Is it still snowing?” Hope said in a sleep-tinged voice, s
tartling Gabe out of his thoughts. He glanced at her. She smiled at him, stretched in a cat-like way that made his mouth dry, and adjusted the seat to an upright position.

  He peered out the window and frowned. “Yes. It’s getting worse, too.”

  “We almost there?”

  “What should’ve taken less than two hours is turning into an all-day trip. We just entered the mountain pass.”

  “How long have I been asleep?”

  “About an hour.”

  “And we’re just now getting out of Reno?”

  “Yep.”

  The trees, tall and straight, spread their bare limbs upward, pointing to the gray clouds that strutted across the sky. The road twisted up through the thousands of prayerful trees. He wished they could stop just for a minute. His bear wanted to go play in the snow and hunt in the forest.

  Sorry, buddy. Maybe next time.

  The next half hour was spent in silence as Gabe maneuvered on the narrow road. The snow fell thick and fast. He slowed when the road curved like the coils of a snake. He glared at the unforgiving sky and felt as temperamental as the weather. They should have left much earlier. It was already late afternoon. Soon, it would be dusk. Donna’s cottage was technically an hour and a half away, but the threatening blizzard would double the time it would take to get there. Hell, maybe even triple it.

  “I can barely see.” Gabe slowed, or tried to, to no avail. The car skidded on the slick road, fishtailing. Before he could blink, they were doing 360s until the Jeep slid backwards off the road, down a slight grade, and smacked into a pine tree. The screech of metal echoed in the thick quiet of the woods.

  His heart felt like it was going to pound out of his chest. His Jeep was a classic, one that he’d restored with loving care. It didn’t have air bags, but the seatbelts worked well enough. He tugged the strap straining across his chest and breathed a sigh of relief.