Wulfe pulled open a drawer in a wall unit filled with them, digging out a handful of small items.
“Here,” he said, and dropped several pieces of dead-bolt hardware into her palm before grabbing a screwdriver and drill.
“Ready?” he asked, and headed back for the door.
As Natalie followed him out, she heard people on the stairs and watched three enter the hallway a moment later, two males and a female. The males were dressed just like Wulfe, naked except for a pair of workout shorts. The woman wore only a sports bra with her shorts. All three eyed her with friendly curiosity.
“Need help?” one of the men asked Wulfe. He was a nice-looking male with a long face and steepled brows. His hand curved across the shoulders of the woman, and she leaned into him as if the pair were two parts of a whole. The woman was cute, with dark, blue-tipped hair and a winning smile.
“Boyo,” the third in the group said, striding forward and greeting Wulfe in the same manner Lyon and Jag had. This male was startlingly handsome in a cover-model kind of way, his hair falling to his shoulders in golden waves, his features utterly perfect in his strong-boned face.
“Fox,” Wulfe said to the golden warrior, a smile lifting his mouth. He turned to the first male and greeted him in the same manner. “I’m good, Hawke. We’re going to put some locks on the door and windows of the bedchamber beside mine. Lyon’s orders, if Natalie’s to avoid the prisons this time.”
Hawke turned to her, his expression surprised, but kind. “Hello, Natalie.” He held out his hand, and she shook it. Glancing at Wulfe, he lifted one of those steepled brows. “She’s here.”
“Ten Mage sentinels broke into her house tonight.”
Fox whistled. “Ten against one and yet here you are, boyo. Wish I’d been there to see that.” His voice held an unmistakable Irish brogue.
“I wish you’d been there to help,” Wulfe replied. “Inir wanted her.”
A dark look passed between the men and the woman.
“Hi, Wulfe.” The woman thrust out her hand to Wulfe and he greeted her as he had the men, though without the same ease. She turned to Natalie, smiled, and extended her hand. “I’m Faith.” She gave her head a little shake. “Falkyn. It’s nice to finally meet you.”
“Finally? So we haven’t met before.”
“No, but your brother talks about you constantly. He’s very proud of you.”
Natalie smiled. “As I am of him.”
“He’s a good chap,” Fox said, smiling. “Welcome, Natalie.” And he shook her hand, too.
Lyon might not trust her, entirely, but the other shape-shifters were openly warm and friendly.
“Doing a little training?” Wulfe asked.
Hawke nodded, sending Falkyn a look of such deep adoration it made Natalie’s heart ache a little. Had Rick ever looked at her like that? If she were perfectly honest, no. Nor had she ever felt that deeply about him. They’d gotten along famously, enjoying many of the same pastimes. But he’d never been necessary to her, she knew that now.
“Falkyn’s skills are improving by leaps and bounds, but I want her to be the best fighter among us.”
Falkyn rolled her eyes with a grin and met Natalie’s curious gaze. “I’m the first female Feral Warrior in centuries, and I shift into a falcon. Not exactly Godzilla. He’s determined to make me invincible anyway.”
Hawke smiled. “I am.”
Falkyn gave Natalie a little wave and headed past them, deeper into the underground, the two males following.
“How many of you did I meet on my first visit here?” Natalie asked as she started up the stairs, Wulfe close behind. “I got the feeling Hawke, Fox, and Falkyn were all meeting me for the first time.”
“They were. None of them were here last time. The only ones you met were Lyon and his mate, Kara, and Paenther, Jag, and me.”
“Because you kept us in the prisons.”
“Yes. You were unconscious most of that time. We figured the less you saw and learned, the easier it would be to take your memories later.”
She stiffened at the implications of that. “How difficult will it be to take my memories this time?” He clearly wasn’t minimizing what she was seeing . . . or learning.
“Natalie,” he said quietly behind her.
She stopped and turned to him, only a single step between them.
He met her gaze, his eyes at once soft and fierce. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
They’d both heard Lyon. Wulfe knew as well as she did that her life hung in the balance.
“I’m not,” he repeated quietly, his gaze like steel, ordering her to believe him.
Warmth fluttered in her chest on wings of a rising affection for this honorable, enigmatic man. An unruly lock of hair hung across his forehead and her hand itched to reach for it, to brush it back, to touch him again as his words and actions touched her over and over. But he hadn’t welcomed her kiss to his cheek, and she feared he wouldn’t welcome her touch.
“Thank you,” she said quietly, revealing her growing affection with a smile instead.
An answering warmth flared in his eyes, his own endearing smile making a small, quick appearance, filling her with a sharp and unexpected joy. With the soft lamplight half illuminating, half shadowing his face, his scars faded to nothing, and the raw male beauty of the man all but took her breath away. His was a strong face, strong-boned, in perfect counterpoint to the body upon which it was attached. His warm, masculine scent wafted over her, pleasing her, drawing her, turning her body soft and warm with wanting. The heat that licked inside her startled her, setting her pulse to flight. And he saw it. She could see the awareness in his eyes. And the disappointment.
Cheeks heating, Natalie turned and resumed the climb, dismayed and embarrassed, because it was clear Wulfe didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t right that she felt anything for this man when she’d been engaged to another just this morning. But Wulfe called to places inside her that Rick never had, places in her heart, in her mind, that were beginning to awaken and unfurl. Places so deep, so new and untouched, that their awakening scared her on a primitive level. If she wasn’t careful, Wulfe, despite his promises to never hurt her, would. Without ever meaning to.
They reached the main floor, crossed the foyer, then, at Wulfe’s lead, started up one of the curved stairs, side by side. Neither said a word.
As they walked down the third-floor hallway, the high yip of an excited puppy echoed suddenly from the other end. Natalie watched, amused, as Wulfe squatted, holding out his big hands as a small black ball of fur came hurtling toward him, tongue out, tail wagging a hundred miles an hour.
As the little black schnauzer pup reached him, Wulfe scooped the tiny creature up and held her in front of his face, chuckling as the pint-sized canine licked his chin and wiggled with happiness. His laugh was a wonderful sound.
“Are you being good, Lady?” Wulfe asked, his voice soft as fleece.
“She’s a doll, aren’t you, Lady?” A woman strolled gracefully down the hall toward them with a kitten held in one arm, a white cockatiel on her shoulder. Beneath a short cap of dark hair, she smiled at Natalie. “Lady thinks Wulfe’s her pack mate. You should see her when Wulfe’s in his animal. They’re adorable together.”
Wulfe grunted and set the puppy on the ground. “Back to your mom, you scamp.”
“I’m Skye,” the woman said, reaching out to shake Natalie’s hand with the one she had free. Her eyes were fascinating, the irises ringed in a shiny band of copper. “I’m Paenther’s mate. You must be Natalie.”
“Word travels fast.”
“I just saw Xavier.”
Natalie grinned. “Xavier’s mouth travels faster.”
Skye laughed. “We love Xavier.”
Wulfe started down the hall, the puppy fast on his heels. Natalie and Skye followed, side by side. Natalie reached over and stroked the kitten, smiling at the other woman. “You have quite a menagerie.”
“Wulfe gave me
Lady as a wedding present a couple of months ago. Jag gave me Tramp, the tabby, and Hawke gifted me with Princess, my cockatiel.”
“They must have known you like animals.”
Skye’s smile was soft. “I’m drawn to animals, and they to me, in a way far beyond human understanding. I don’t really understand it myself, I just know that it is.”
“Then it seems like you’re in the right house.”
“With shape-shifters, you mean?” Her expression turned wry. “You would think so, and yet, if you knew a little more about our world, you would think not. I’m Mage.”
Natalie jerked with surprise.
Skye’s mouth twisted ruefully. “I see you know what that means.”
“Ten of them broke into my house tonight.”
Skye blanched. “But you’re okay.”
“Wulfe was there. He . . . took care of them.”
Skye nodded. “Too many of my people have had their souls stolen. We’re not all like that.”
“I can see that. And I’m glad.”
“You’re human.”
“Yes.” Natalie cocked her head. “Can you see my glow, too?”
Skye nodded. “It’s faint—I don’t usually see auras—but it’s there. The colors are beautiful.”
“Thanks . . . I think. From what I gather, it’s Daemon-related, which is probably not good.”
Skye frowned, looked at Wulfe. “Is the Shaman going to take a look at her?”
“He already did,” Wulfe told her. “All he can say is that it appears to be Daemon energy. But he doesn’t know what that means.” Wulfe strode into one of the rooms, a large room with a massive poster bed sitting in the middle. Against one wall sat a dresser with a mirror. But other than a single nightstand, that was it. The walls were white, there was no rug on the hardwood floor, and only a single sheet covered the bed. Against one wall sat a pair of plain army green duffel bags.
A woman . . . presumably one of the Therian Guards, poked her head out the bathroom door. “I’m gathering up our toiletries. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Is Natalie going to stay here?” Skye asked, surprised.
Natalie responded without rancor, “Wulfe’s been ordered to put locks on the windows and door as a precaution. It’s odd to be considered dangerous among immortals who could end my life in an instant, but I get it.”
Skye’s eyes darkened with sympathy. “I’m glad you’re not angry about it.”
The woman strode from the bathroom, her hair short, her body toned and strong beneath her tank and fighting pants.
“Sorry for running you out,” Skye said.
The woman grabbed the duffels and turned to her with a smile. “Thank you, but a bed is a luxury we don’t need.” She nodded to Natalie and Wulfe as she left.
Skye set the kitten down to scamper over to the puppy. “You’re going to need fresh linens,” she said and began stripping the bed. As Natalie stepped forward to help, another woman strode into the room, her arms laden with sheets and towels, a small canvas bag slung over one arm, a gun strapped to her waist.
“I’ve got them,” the newcomer said.
Melisande walked in behind her. “Tighe wants to know if you want him to bring anything back for you, Natalie.”
“I’d love him to, but I don’t know if he’ll be able to find them. I had to drop my purse and a yellow suitcase in the woods behind my house when the Mage started chasing us.” She glanced at Wulfe. “I’d love to have my laptop, too, but I’m not sure that’s allowed.”
“Where is it?” Melisande asked.
“On the sofa in the family room, where the battle took place. The power cord is on the desk in the kitchen.”
“We’ll bring them. Lyon can take it from there.” A second later, Melisande disappeared.
Natalie stared, nonplussed. One moment she was there, the next . . . gone.
“You’ll get used to the Ilinas popping in and out,” Skye said softly. “The rest of us have.”
As exhaustion trembled through her, Natalie wondered just how many more surprises she could take in one day.
The woman with the linens and the gun plopped the pile down on the dresser, then grabbed a couple of sheets and came to join them.
She eyed Natalie with interest as she shook out one of the sheets. “I’m Delaney, Tighe’s mate. I used to be human, too.”
Natalie’s brows lifted. “Used to be?”
Delaney smiled. “It’s a long story that still gives me nightmares, but the result was worth it. I’ve got the hottest, sweetest male on the face of the planet for all of eternity.”
Skye laughed as she grabbed one end of the sheet. “I could argue that. Mine happens to be the sweetest. And the hottest.”
Delaney grinned. “We’ll call it a draw.”
Natalie helped the pair make the bed, her gaze drawn to Wulfe as he moved to the window and began screwing bolts into the frame.
“Wulfe, you should give Natalie one of those cell phones that Tighe gave me when I first got here.” Delaney looked at Natalie. “The only calls I could make from it were to Tighe or Lyon. They didn’t want me calling the FBI, which I’d been trying to do.” She glanced back at Wulfe. “Load Skye’s number, and mine, in case you’re not around and she wants company. Being locked up is no fun, even with a comfy bed.”
Wulfe just nodded but continued to concentrate on his task.
Lady began to bark and ran toward the door.
“That’s her gotta pee bark,” Skye said, hurrying after her.
Delaney met Natalie’s gaze. “If you need anyone to talk to, have Wulfe call me. I’m on lockdown, too, if in a different way.” Her smile turned beatific. “I’m pregnant with Tighe’s child and he barely allows me to leave the house, let alone join in the fighting.”
“He’s right,” Wulfe said.
“I know. But it doesn’t mean I’m not going stir-crazy. I’m barely even showing yet.” Her gaze turned serious. “They’re good guys, the best, but if you betray them, there’s nowhere you can hide,” she said, echoing Xavier’s warning. Despite the harshness of her words, Delaney’s eyes were sympathetic as she grasped Natalie’s hand and led her toward the door.
“Delaney . . .” Wulfe called, a note of warning in his voice.
“We need a moment of girl talk. She won’t be out of your sight.” Delaney led her into the hallway just outside the room. When Wulfe turned back to his task with a nod, Delaney met Natalie’s gaze, her own piercing. “When you were here before, Wulfe became your protector. He watched over you like a mother hen, and he hasn’t stopped.”
Natalie nodded. “He’s visited me as the wolf.”
“He cares about you, Natalie. But there are other factors. A lot of them. You’ve never appeared put off by his scars, and that’s huge. But tread carefully, please. In many ways, he’s the strongest, fiercest of the shifters. But in others, he’s vulnerable. I wouldn’t want either of you to get hurt because either of those scenarios will wind up hurting him. Just tread carefully.”
Natalie watched her. “You do realize you’ve given me only enough to make me intensely curious.”
“I know. The rest isn’t mine to tell. If you need someone to talk to at any time, I’m here.” She squeezed Natalie’s hand, motioned Natalie back into the room, and left.
Wulfe glanced at her as she approached, then turned back to the window without asking any questions.
“Here you go!” a feminine voice called from the doorway.
Natalie turned to find Melisande holding her purse and suitcase.
“I’ll leave them right here.” The Ilina set them by the door, then disappeared again before Natalie could thank her.
With a mind-clearing shake of the head, Natalie turned back to Wulfe, intrigued by the play of muscles across his broad, broad shoulders and back. He really had the most incredible build. Watching him did funny things to her insides, hot, quivery things. And she was just tired enough to not care if he knew it.
She mo
ved closer, leaning against the wall beside him. “I’ve never seen you with a shirt on. Not that I remember.”
He glanced at her with dismay. “Do you want me to get one before I finish?”
A smile fought to escape. “I rather like you without clothes on.”
His hand stilled, his eyes changed, slowly darkening, watching her with an intensity that snagged at her breath, that made her body heat and soften.
Longing filled his eyes. “Natalie.”
For one charged moment, she thought he might drop his tools and reach for her. And she wanted that. Badly.
Instead, his eyes filled with frustration and he returned to his task. “Why don’t you unpack while I finish here?”
For a moment, she just watched him, her brows drawn with confusion. He’d reared back when she kissed his cheek, as if her touch was anathema. But just now, she’d seen longing in his eyes, she knew that. She read eyes too well to doubt herself. And yet . . .
“All right.” She got such mixed signals from him. Or maybe she just didn’t know how to read a werewolf. And, honestly, she was probably too tired to get anything straight right now.
Unpacking quickly, she laid her clothes in the dresser drawers and set her toiletry bag on the sink in the small private bathroom, then hung up the towels Delaney had brought with the sheets. Last, she opened the little canvas bag Delaney had left behind and found hand soap, body soap, a toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, conditioner, and half a dozen other female necessities including a fat Toblerone candy bar and an index card with a handwritten note across it. If I forgot anything, just yell. D.
Natalie smiled at the offering. They were treating her far more like a welcome guest than the unexpected problem that she was. Probably because she was Xavier’s sister and they were clearly fond of him.
Her heart tightened, tears burning her eyes, as the joy of finding him well and happy rushed through her all over again. A single tear escaped, and she swiped it away.
“Natalie?”
She turned to find Wulfe watching her with concern in those dark, gentle eyes.
“I’m fine.” She smiled. “The best I’ve been in weeks. I have my brother back, even if only for a little while. You have no idea what a gift you’ve given me.”
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