Sadie

by Michelle L De La Garza

  “How do you know they’re gone?”

  Her big brown eyes stare. There’s an innocence reflected in them that pulls at me.

  “Because I’d smell them.” I walk her to the motorcycle and sit down. “Hop on.”

  She hesitates, and narrows her eyes. “If you can smell them, then why didn’t you know they were here earlier before they attacked?”

  “They used the rain to mask their scent, which is why I didn’t pick up on them.” I motion for her to sit on the seat behind me.

  “Does that mean you’re one of them?” A tremor shakes her body. “One of those things?”

  “Lycan. No.” I hold out a hand. “And I’m not part of that tribe. Besides, I’d never hurt you, Sadie Reed.”

  “And why’s that?”

  “Because my wolf would never allow it.”

  “Oh.” Sadie hesitates then takes my hand.

  She straddles the bike, leans forward, and then wraps her arms around my waist.

  The wolf inside me relishes her touch. I’ve never experienced such a strong need or attraction like this before.

  My wolf knows what it wants. And right now, it is single-minded in its pursuit. It wants more. It craves more. It desires to mark Sadie Reed.

  Chapter Seven

  Sadie Reed

  THE FAMILIAR FEEL of his body under my fingertips, and his scent, offers a degree of comfort.

  When those things, the lycans, attacked, he stayed with me, protected me even.

  So, what exactly does that make him?

  He said he wasn’t like them, and that the ones who attacked, the werewolves, were from the Kweo clan.

  What the hell does that even mean? And how many other clans are there?

  A gust of humid, balmy air blasts against my face, blowing long locks loose from the twisted, messy bun on the back of my head.

  My hair whips against my face, neck, arms and back. I hug Ethan’s body, using him as a shield against the wind.

  It’s no longer raining, but my soaked clothes offer no protection.

  A coldness creeps deep into my bones that I can’t shake, causing me to shiver. Tightening my hold on him, I absorb the warmth of his body.

  He’s hot, the thought dawns on me, and not just easy on the eyes. His body is like a burning inferno.

  Ethan pulls out of the Novak Ranch driveway. He turns right on to the two-lane highway, travels a couple of miles, and then turns in to a private paved road, which leads up a steep incline.

  At the top of the hill, under the light of the moon, a single-story home comes into view.

  I glance into the dense wooded area, wondering what’s out there. Shadows snake through the trees, grass, and shrubbery, and my hair stands on end.

  Are they there, watching? I shudder.

  A circular light, hanging from a pole, illuminates the front of the house which has a log cabin-like feel to it with a modern, contemporary look.

  In the gravel driveway, a black, double-cabbed truck sits alone. Near a storage building, a covered trailer cinched-up tight sports a logo that reads Cotter Construction.

  Ethan pulls up next to the F150 vehicle and parks.

  Like prior, he waits for her to slide off the seat before deploying the kickstand.

  “Come on.” He gets off the bike.

  Standing on shaky legs, I follow him up the winding path leading to the house.

  In the distance, a mournful howl pierces the shadows of the night.

  My body shakes from head to toe. Picking up the pace, I close the small gap between me and Ethan.

  “Those things—”

  I reach for his hand and lace my fingers with his.

  He glances over a shoulder. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anything, or anyone hurt you. You’ll be safe here.”

  The door to the house swings open.

  A guy, a few inches taller than Ethan, wearing frayed jeans, an unbuttoned shirt, and boots, steps out. The muscles of his ripped abdomen ripple with each step he takes.

  He sniffs the air. “Who is your friend, little brother?”

  “Sadie Reed,” says Ethan. “Meet my brother, Cole.”

  Chapter Eight

  Ethan Cotter

  COLE STANDS IN FRONT of the opened door, blocking the entrance.

  “Are you just going to stand there, gawking?” I wrap an arm around Sadie’s waist, drawing her closer to my frame. “Or get the hell out of the way?”

  “After you.” Stepping to the side, Cole offers a welcoming gesture, but it doesn’t look natural. It seems forced.

  I guide Sadie through the house, into the kitchen, and pull out a chair.

  “Have a seat.” I plop down in a chair next to her.

  Cole makes his way into the room, shoulders back and brooding.

  His eyes glance over at Sadie and then fall upon me.

  “Where’s Ma?”

  “She picked up a shift, but you’d know that if you were home when you were supposed to be.” Cole stops in the archway between the kitchen and living area. “Your food is in the fridge. She put in there, not me.”

  “Not hungry right now.”

  Sadie rubs her eyes, then hugs her arms to her body. Goosebumps cover her exposed arms.

  “Do either of you know what happened at Novak’s place tonight?” Cole yanks the towels on the stove handle off.

  He hands one to Sadie, then tosses me the other one.

  “The word coming down the pipeline is that an animal and an unknown assailant broke into the house.”

  “That’s not what happened. There were—”

  “Seems they had a bit of a party. Things got out of hand, and they wrecked the place.”

  “No. That’s not accurate.” Sadie towel-dries her hair. “That’s not how it happened.”

  Cole’s steely eyes land on me. “Anything I should know?”

  “I, we didn’t break in.” Sadie’s eyes widen. “We didn’t.”

  “Then what would you call it?” Cole slides a chair out from under the table, spins it around, and then straddles the seat. He plants his hands flat on the table. His eyes, dark and menacing, reflect the wolf inside him.

  “It’s not considered burglary when people enter their home.”

  My beast picks up on the anger hovering around her scent. And if it can smell the aroma, so can my brother, which will garner the attention of his inner beast.

  “Look.” I set the towel on the table. “I don’t know what the fuck you heard, but—”

  “Think long and hard about your next words before you speak them, little brother.” Cole grabs Sadie’s purse and empties the contents.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sadie stands and reaches across the table. She gathers the items of her spilled purse and shoves everything into the bag. “Your brother’s an ass.”

  “Yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  “Where’s the gun? I know it’s here.” Cole wraps a hand around her wrist. “What the hell are you because you’re not lupine or lycan?” He sniffs the air. “And you’re damn sure not human.”

  Rising, I pull the handgun from my waistband.

  “Calm down. It’s not what you think.”

  He takes the weapon from my hand, ejects the magazine and empties the chamber, disarming the gun and then sets it on top of the table.

  “Not what I think?” Cole brings Sadie’s hand to his face and sniffs once more. “I can smell the residual gunpowder on her skin.”

  “Hey, listen up”—I reach for my brother’s arm but stop mid-motion—“we didn’t start it.”

  “No?” A throaty growl reverberates deep in Cole’s chest. “Then you want to tell me why you two killed lycans on hallowed ground?”

  “Hallowed ground? What are you talking about?” Sadie struggles to release Cole’s hold. “Those things attacked me. They all did. They were trying to kill me—us.” Sadie’s voice cracks, and her lower lip quivers. “They got in the house. They weren’t right. Their eyes,
they were red and—”

  “Let her go. She speaks the truth, brother.”

  I place a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure and comfort her.

  “Explain. Now.”

  “When we arrived at the house, a Kweo pack was there.” I hold the house keys, shaking them. “They moved into position to attack before the key was even in the lock. Once we were inside, they smashed a window to gain entry.”

  I toss the jacket at my brother.

  Cole sniff the garment then spreads it out on the table.

  “Wait. This is yours.”

  “No shit! You gave it to me last winter.”

  He examines the slashes, then smells the front once again. “Why is there lycan blood on it?”

  Cole drops the jacket on the table and narrows his eyes.

  “And why the hell does it smell like her?”

  “Because Sadie was wearing it when attacked.” I struggle to keep my wolf at bay.

  “I can smell your blood on it.” Cole drags Sadie from her seat. “Where did the Kweo mark you?”

  “Mark me?” She yanks her arm free of his grasp. “What are you talking about?”

  “Where were you bit?”

  I step between Sadie and my brother.

  “Back off. They didn’t bite her. The blood you smell is from a superficial wound on her head she got when she fell. She’s not marked. I checked.”

  Not yet, anyway but she will be if my wolf has anything to do with it.

  “Sit.” The single word echoes in the kitchen. “Both of you.”

  “It’s okay.” I motion for her to take a seat.

  Cole examines the wound on Sadie’s head. “You don’t need stitches.” He reaches for the towel she’s holding, takes it from her hand, and then presses it to her head.

  “Oow.” She flinches. “That hurts.”

  “Hold it there. The bleeding has almost stopped.” He turns to me. “Start talking.”

  “I thought it was the rogue, at first, the one mutilating cattle and other livestock, but there were too many of them.”

  “A chance meeting or planned attack?” Cole straddles the chair once more.

  “Well, I don’t think it was a coincidence if that’s what you’re asking. Fuck, no. The attack wasn’t random. They were looking for something.”

  “Or someone.” Cole stares Sadie down. From the look on his face, he’s struggling to reigh in his wolf. “Who are you?”

  “I don’t have to take this shit.” She rises, grabs her cell, and then huffs. “Fuck. That’s just great.”

  Tears well in her eyes, and she tosses the device on top of the table.

  “No fucking reception.” She swipes at the tears running down her cheeks. “I hate this place—Kensington Cove.”

  “It’s the storm.” Taking hold of Sadie’s hand, I coax her back to the table “The rain messes with the towers. You’ll be able to call out when it stops.”

  I blot my face with the towel and then wipe off the excess water dripping from my hair.

  “I shouldn’t have come here.” She slips on to the chair and cradles her head. “Fresh air. Fresh start.” Her voice cracks. “He said it’d be good—”

  “Who?” A need to know more eats at me.

  “Doesn’t matter now.”

  “How did the two of you meet?” Cole leans on the table, both elbows on the surface.

  “Shit. My car.” Sadie sinks back into her chair and holds my gaze. “It’s on the road.”

  “Road?” I shake my head. “No. I’m pretty sure it’s still in the ditch you drove it into.” I grin, wolfishly.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Cole rises, grabs the towels, and hangs them.

  “Sadie here was checking her phone, driving in the middle of the highway not far from Roman’s place. She almost plowed over me.”

  “I did not. And I wasn’t driving in the middle of the road.” She sighs. “Okay. So, I may have swerved a bit, but I wouldn’t have hit you.”

  “Interesting story.” Cole rest a hip against the stove. “I’ll have someone pick up your car in the morning.” He pauses. “I’m making some coffee. Do either of you want some?” He grabs a filter out of the cabinet. “It’s gonna to be a long night.”

  “Yes.” Sadie nods. “Please.”

  A quick sniff of the air in the room confirms Cole’s initial anger lingers but no longer climbs in intensity.

  “Yeah. I could use some about now.” I rise. “But I could also use a shower and some dry clothes.”—I hold Sadie’s gaze—“Unless you’d like to take one first.”

  Cole grabs three mugs from the cabinet and sets them on the counter.

  “No. I’m good.” Sadie shakes her head. “Wait. You’re not going to leave me alone with him, are you?”

  “You’ll be fine.” I walk to the far side of the kitchen and turn around. “Cole will be on his best behavior, right?”

  Cole grumbles something unintelligible.

  Sadie leaps from her chair.

  “Sit down!” Cole’s voice contains an air of authority not to be questioned. “We’re not finished talking.”

  Without a peep, Sadie slides on the seat again.

  “Have some coffee.” Cole sets a steamy cup in front of her. “It’s decaffeinated because you damn sure don’t need any caffeine as wound up and jittery as you are.” A slight grin flashes across his lips, but it’s gone just as fast as it had first appeared.

  Chuckling, I walk out of the kitchen. I know Cole well enough to know that Sadie’s safe. And who knows, maybe he’ll get more out of her—a story—one that I did get.

  He’s a real ass at times, but when shit goes down, I can count on him to cover my back.

  Stepping into the bathroom, I shed my wet clothes and enter the shower. My hand hovers over the hot knob then drifts to the cold. As worked up as my inner wolf is, frigid water would be the better choice. But at this rate, I’m not even sure if a cold shower will be enough to douse the raging fire burning deep inside.

  My wolf wants one thing, and one thing only. It wants her, Sadie Reed.

  Chapter Nine

  Sadie Reed

  THE TENSION IN THE AIR is thick.

  I wrap my hands around the mug and sip on the black coffee. It’s bitter, and I scrunch my nose.

  Cole sets a sugar container on the middle of the table.

  “Do you use creamer?”

  “Yeah.” I nod and glance around the kitchen—a microwave with a broken handle hangs off the door.

  I focus on pouring the sugar into my cup, anything to avoid Cole’s probing stare.

  “Here you go.” He hands me a creamer carton, which I accept with a trembling hand. Using it quickly, I give it back. “Thanks.”

  Cole straddles the chair, again.

  I can feel his searing, suspicious gaze burning into my head from across the table. It’s as though he’s searching, probing, trying to discover what secrets I now hide from him.

  “How did you come to have keys to the Novak Ranch?”

  “That’s not any of your business,” my voice cracks.

  “Let’s try that again.” He leans into the table. “How’d you get the keys?”

  I clear my throat and start over. “This morning, I learned an attorney had contacted social services a little over a week ago. The guy gave me some records and letters.”

  “And?” He pours creamer into his mug.

  “One of the letters said something about me being named an heir to property.”

  “The Novak Estate?”

  “Yeah.” I wrap my hands around the mug, relishing the warmth. “Me, inheriting stuff, didn’t compute. I thought it was a scam, so I just tossed the paperwork in the trash. But Dr. Gus talked to Social Services outside of the room.”

  “Who’s Dr. Gus?” He spoones sugar into the steaming coffee.

  “She’s my principal, well, used to be, anyway.”

  “And the social worker?”

  “Mrs. Berry, she’s
a real bitch. Works my case.”

  “We’ll get back to what case she handles for you shortly.” He takes a swig of coffee. “Continue.”

  “When they came back, I was told to pack my stuff because the Greene family was in jail.”

  “Who the hell are they?”

  “The family Mrs. Berry had me living with.”

  “Why the fuck weren’t you living with your parents—your family?”

  “Because I don’t have any.” My lips turn down into a frown. “But then this morning, the attorney said I did.”

  Cole rubs his head. “Did what? Have family?”

  “Uh, huh. The lawyer guy pulled out some documents, reports, and papers.”

  “You have a name?”

  “For the attorney, yeah. Jared Lambett . . . Lambeth—”

  “Lambert.” Cole brings the mug to his lips but doesn’t drink. “Jared Lambert.”

  “Sounds about right. Well, he claimed he’d been searching for me for the past several months.”

  Digging through my purse, I pull out Mr. Lambert’s business card and hand it to Cole.

  “He said I was the only living relative of his client.”

  “I know Jared, he and Roman go way back.” He waves his hand, motioning for me to continue.

  “I was skeptical, at first, and thought it really was a scam.” I rub some warmth into my arms. “Even thought he was an old creeper trying to get close to me at first. I just didn’t know why.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Growing up in the foster care system has a way of making someone feel that way, you know, jaded and paranoid of strangers.”

  “Foster care?” He nearly spills his coffee. “What about your mother—father?”

  “Never knew my birth mother—not even her name. Same with my father.” I sigh. “Well, that is until Mr. Lambert showed up. My mother was Kim . . .” I pause. “Kimberly Novak, that’s what he told me her name was.”

  “And your father?”

  I shrug my shoulder. “Still don’t know?” I unzip a large pocket inside her purse. “But Mr. Lambert gave me this.” I hand him an envelope. He was supposed to meet me at a local burger joint today but got called into court.”