Wolf-Crazy
Book #4 - Wolf of My Heart Series
Written by Linda Palmer
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Ebooks are not transferrable and are to be read by the purchaser only.
Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. All characters, places, businesses, and incidents are from the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, people, or events is purely coincidental. Any trademarks mentioned herein are not authorized by the trademark owners and do not in any way mean the work is sponsored by or associated with the trademark owners. Any trademarks used are specifically in a descriptive capacity.
Editor: J.M. Smith
First Edition
Wolf-Crazy© 2012 by Linda Palmer
Cover art © 2012 by Linda Palmer
Wild Horse Press
Other books in the Wolf of My Heart series by Linda Palmer:
My-Wolf
Wolf-Run
Wolf-Way
Other Wild Horse Press books by Linda Palmer:
Jaguar Moon
Storm Swept
The Curse of Willow Lane
Mistletoe Magyk
Wild Horse Press anthologies with contributions by Linda Palmer
Yule Be Haunted
Calling Cupid
This book is dedicated to everyone on Team Jacob.
I'm right there with you.
Chapter One
The front bell must've rung ten times before I dragged myself downstairs to see who'd come to call. Dax, my nineteen-year-old brother, lay sprawled on the couch not ten feet from the freakin' door. Did he bother to get up? That would be a no. Since his acceptance into the Harvard pre-med program, he'd been a real horse's butt. Yeah. An Ivy-League snob if I ever saw one. I didn't let him get away with it, of course, which is why I snatched up a sofa pillow as I walked past and bashed him with it.
"Damn, Skylar!" He tugged his earbuds out.
"If you can't hear the dang bell, the music's too loud."
Brother dear flipped me off.
Rolling my eyes, I flicked on the front porch light and opened the door without looking through the peek hole since it had been installed by someone seven feet tall. At least, that's what I'd always assumed. At five-foot-four, I sure couldn't use it. I didn't recognize the guy standing on the porch. Could've been because he was in profile, as in he'd finally given up and was leaving. Or it could've been because my brother didn't have any friends--even the football players--with shoulders that wide. Either way, I didn't know the guy who turned to face me.
I quickly took stock of his clothing--leather boots, worn jeans with tears in the knees, and a faded, half-zipped gray hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. Our visitor had very short brown hair and golden brown eyes, but what grabbed my attention most was the silver-stud earring in his left earlobe.
Was this dude at the wrong house or what?
"Skylar?"
My heart stopped. I knew that voice.
Zeke Sterling.
Oh my God.
Shock glued me to the floor for a single second. Sheer ecstasy made me shove open the storm door and throw myself at him, a move that sent our visitor stumbling back. With my arms around his middle, I hugged him as hard as I could.
Step. Away. From. The. Boy.
I ignored the voice of reason. I'd wanted to hold him just like this my whole life. But in my dreams, he'd hugged me back, which he was so not doing now. Somehow I peeled myself off him and put a couple of inches between us, panting to catch my breath. However, I could not resist framing his face with my hands and anxiously examining his features for clues to the mystery that had changed my life one year, three months, and five days ago. "It's really you."
"It's me."
"Alive."
"Well…yeah."
"I thought you were dead. We all did."
Zeke nervously cleared his throat and glanced over my shoulder. "Is Dax home?"
Dax, huh? My spirits sank like a one-hit wonder. After being MIA for an eternity, he'd now returned from the dead and dropped by to see my brother, who didn't even consider himself a friend anymore. I was still a nothing to Zeke. Clearly some things never changed, and that hurt like a knife stuck deep into my foolish hammering heart. "He's in the house." I moved to get out of his way.
Zeke slipped past me, stopping just inside the foyer.
I pointed toward the living room and Dax, who must've had his iPod blasting again. At any rate, his head didn't pop up over the couch when I called his name. With a shake of my own head, I walked over and thumped his ear.
"Ow!" He sat up. "What is wrong with--" Dax's gaze slipped past me to Zeke. With a sharp, "Holy crap!" he shot off the cushions and leaped over the back, landing right in front of our guest, who'd followed me into the room. "Are you for real?"
Zeke nodded.
Watching the guys give each other awkward man-hugs, I wished for the very first time that I was my brother. I also squashed my budding suspicion that Dax had known Zeke wasn't dead and not bothered to mention it. Clearly this visit was as much a shock to my brother as it was to me.
"We thought you were a goner, bro. Where in the hell have you been?"
Zeke started to answer, but then stopped. He flicked a glance my way, as if in doubt that he should talk in front of Dax's pesky little sis. That did it for me. I spun around to stomp toward the stairs.
"Skylar deserves to know, too." Dax's loyalty surprised me so much I braked and pivoted to face him. "She lost it when you disappeared."
Had he really just blurted that? Furious, I glared at my big-mouthed brother.
He blew me off. "She was way messed up. Had to see a shrink and everything."
I wanted to die. "Would you just hush?"
"It's the truth, and you know it." Dax once again focused on Zeke. "So where have you been?"
"It's a long story, which I'll tell you. But first I need to know why a man and woman with too many kids are living in my house. Where'd my dad get off to?"
How could he not know this? It had only been in every newspaper in the state. "Your dad moved away."
"What!"
I nodded. "Yeah. Sold the house and everything. He's been gone for almost a year." Zeke's eyes filled. Without saying another word, he turned and headed toward the front door, making it all the way there before I caught up and grabbed his hood to stop him from leaving. He did not turn around. "Where are you going?"
He didn't answer.
"Don't, okay?"
"Yeah," said Dax from just behind me. "Stay awhile. Eat something. You look awful, man."
I elbowed Dax for being too honest. "There's a cheeseburger pizza in the fridge, and we've got root beer, too. Your favorites."
Zeke actually looked at me, his eyes brimming. "You remember that?"
Dax snorted a little too loud as though desperate to lighten the mood. "Of course she remembers. She's only been in love with you since her Barbie doll days."
"Shut up!"
"But it might make him feel better."
As if. I closed my eyes, silently praying for a lightning bolt to strike and fry the idiot I called brother. When I risked opening them again, I saw Zeke wiping his eyes dry on his sleeve. He looked at me with the oddest expression on his face. "No shit?"
Oh how I despised direct questions. "It was just a crush. The old hot-friend-of-the-older-brother kind. I'm over it now." Dax shot me a lo
ok, but thankfully didn't correct me.
"You thought I was hot?"
Clearly my big brother wasn't the only idiot in the room. "Don't you own a mirror?" I changed the subject. "Food's in the kitchen."
Zeke hesitated, but gave in and followed me there. I pointed to the table; he took a seat, as did Dax. I opened the fridge door, grateful for the rush of cool air that fanned my flaming cheeks as I got the pizza box and some drinks. After setting them on the table right in front of Zeke, I located paper plates and napkins. By the time I joined the guys again, Zeke was halfway through his first piece. He shoveled in the food as if he hadn't eaten for a while, and neither Dax nor I said anything that would require an answer. A full tummy could only help, and there was more than half a pizza there.
Finally he seemed to realize he was the only one chewing. "You guys aren't hungry?"
We both shook our heads a little too quickly.
He flushed and pushed the box away with a couple of pieces still left. "Where's my dad living now?"
I answered. "Cheyenne."
"I can't believe he sold the house. It's been in the family for seventy years. It was going to be mine someday. And why move to Cheyenne of all places? He loves Ridge Rock."
"Your dad's running for governor, so he probably thought that it would be smart to live in the capital city. Election's in November, you know."
Zeke had never looked so confused. "My dad wants to be the governor of Wyoming?"
I nodded. "He's a frontrunner and will probably win."
"I don't… I can't… Governor?"
I nodded again.
"But he liked being sheriff. Reveled in it, in fact."
"And speaking of that," said Dax. "Were you really kidnapped because he was closing in on that crooked councilman?"
"What are you talking about?" Zeke definitely seemed confused.
"That's what your dad said. He got a ransom note and everything."
Zeke's eyes widened. "Did he pay up?"
"Yeah, but the kidnappers double crossed him."
"My dad's been played."
"So someone else got you?" I had to know.
With a heavy sigh, Zeke leaned back. For almost a minute the only sound in the room was Mom's kitty-cat wall clock, faithfully ticking off the seconds with its tail. "If I tell you guys what really happened, you'll both think I'm crazy."
"I'd never," I said.
Dax nodded agreement.
Zeke gave his decision a couple more seconds' thought before speaking again. "Okay, here goes. About a month after Mom fell off that mountain, Melita McGee started hanging around the house, pretending she was trying to help us. But I saw right through her."
"Well, she was your mom's best friend and the only person with her when she fell. She probably felt guilty about what happened." Melita, the former mayor of Ridge Rock and Risa Sterling's best friend since high school, had always seemed nice enough to me. "Wasn't the hike her idea?"
"Exactly." The way he said that revealed it meant something far more sinister to him than it did to us. "I got so sick of her that I was rude. Even said something about Mom's accident not being an accident at all, but a deliberate act to get rid of her. Dad gave me holy hell for it. That set me off. I started doing stuff to embarrass him. Acting out. I know you remember."
"Yeah." Dax had actually ended their twelve-year friendship because of it. I remembered, too, but for a different reason. I'd never been more furious with my brother, who should've stuck by Zeke, a lifelong friend, and tried to figure out what was going on.
"On May 17, I was approached by this man at Foxy's--"
My jaw dropped. "You were at a strip joint?" The Zeke I knew would never go there.
"Uh-huh. Me and some dudes I was hanging with were trying to sneak in. This guy named Enrique came up and said he could get us some fake ID's if we'd go with him."
"Enrique who?"
"Manos, I think. Anyway, I was the only one crazy enough to take him up on it. He drove me to this old building, tasered and drugged me--"
I gasped.
"--and the next thing I knew, I was in New Orleans."
Chapter Two
I could barely speak. "Oh my God."
"But why pick you if it wasn't to warn your dad?" Dax asked.
"I already said. I went with him. I'll make a long story short, okay? I became part of a gang that was led by a guy named Larry Bateman, but really run by a man in Birmingham, Titus Leopold. Under threat of personal pain or death to our families, we pretty much broke every law in the books."
"Oh no." The words fell off my tongue before I could stop them.
Zeke gave me a sharp look. "It's not like I wanted to, Skylar. I was afraid they'd do something to my dad. With Mom gone, he was all I had."
"I'm not blaming you. It's just so…awful."
Dax nodded his agreement. "Did you try to get away?"
"Of course I did." Looking as if he had something to prove, Zeke unzipped his hoodie and pulled up his black skull-and-crossbones tee.
I saw a tanned six-pack scarred with what looked like burns and stabs. I also saw the mark of an animal bite. Actually there were several of those. I winced and glanced away, a little sick at my stomach. Zeke immediately dropped the hem of his shirt.
Dax frowned. "Why didn't the cops not know about you guys? You've got the look that sets a principal's teeth on edge."
Zeke snorted a laugh. "We didn't go to school."
"No school?"
"Bateman had ways to get what he wanted."
Dax leaned back slightly. "How'd you bust out?" His body language said he doubted the story.
"It's too complicated to explain. Let's just say that Titus finally got what was coming to him, and the main gang fell apart. That eventually trickled down to the support gangs. We mutinied. There was this huge standoff in the swamps. We won. I got out of there as soon as I could."
"When did this happen?" I asked.
"June of this year."
"And you're just now coming home?" I'd have run hard, fast, and straight to Ridge Rock.
"There was some personal craziness I had to make right first."
The way he said that made me blurt my next question before I thought. "What kind?"
"It's hard to explain."
"Try," said Dax, clearly picking up on Zeke's defensive demeanor.
"We won't say anything to anyone," I added.
"It's not that." Zeke brushed his hand over his head, which didn't disturb his hair, cut military short. "You won't believe me."
I touched his arm. "Whatever it is, we will."
Zeke still hesitated. I'd almost given up on getting an answer until he said, "Sorry. I really can't."
I decided to let it go…for now. "Do you have a place to stay?"
"I'll be okay."
"That's not what I asked. Do you have a bed to sleep in tonight?"
"I-- Not yet."
"Mom and Dad are at the lake, which frees up theirs. You can stay with us." My brother nodded agreement, but not as quickly as he should've. "How'd you get here?"
"Hitched."
"Where's your stuff?"
"Backpack's stuck behind some bushes out front."
"I'll get it." Dax got up as if relieved to have an excuse to leave the room.
Zeke waited until we heard the front door open. "I really do want to tell you everything that happened. But I could get into a lot of trouble if I do, and it could put you in danger."
"Were you molested? Did you have a disease? Are you addicted to something?"
"God, no." His huff revealed his exasperation. "I couldn't come home because I'd been turned into a werewolf." Dax suddenly strolled into the room. The backpack hit the floor with a solid thud. Zeke startled and turned toward the door. He did not look happy to see Dax back so soon. "You heard…?"
"Yeah, I did." Dax's gaze raked him. "But say it again, will you? Because I must've misunderstood."
Zeke sort of sagged in his chair. "I said I w
as a werewolf, or Were, as we called ourselves when we're in human form. And I wasn't the Dog Soldiers kind. I was really a wolf, complete with fur, fangs, and paws."
I could barely breathe and not because the love of my life had just said the craziest thing ever. I had other reasons--reasons I'd never mentioned to anyone except my shrink.
"Told you you'd never believe me." Zeke had misinterpreted the silence. Mine, anyway.
"It's not that we think you'd lie." My brother was apparently trying to be diplomatic, a first. "It's just…well…there's no such thing."
"Believe me, Weres exist, and they're not the worst of what's out there."
Dax didn't even pretend to buy that. "Let me see if I've got this right. You were kidnapped, forced into a life of crime, and turned into Teen Wolf."
Zeke didn't back down. "Pretty much."
Dax thought about it. "The crime thing, I get. What I don't understand is how turning you into a Were could help anyone."
"It was another way to control us. In the preternatural world, Weres and werewolves, which is what we call ourselves in wolf form, are despised and hunted. Besides that, our heightened senses came in handy if we're chasing or being chased."
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