Between a Wolf and a Hard Place

by Terry Spear

  “Hey, you ready to go?” Miles asked, breaking into her fantasy. “If I’m going to help you on that next case, I need some sleep.”

  Miles’s date was a human woman, and Jillian knew her brother too well. Sleep wasn’t what he had in mind at all.

  “Yeah, agreed.”

  “I can take you back to your hotel,” Jillian’s date said to her, as if he were looking for some mattress action too.

  “Oh, thanks so much, but no, that’s fine. Miles is right. We have to get up before the crack of dawn.”

  She and Miles rose from the table, Jillian’s date not making a move to leave. “See you tomorrow night then,” he said.

  Not if she could help it. She gathered her sweater and bag, and though she didn’t want to seem too obvious, she glanced back at the dark stranger. He inclined his head a little to her, and her whole body flushed with heat.

  He was so hot. Yeah, he was the one she wanted tomorrow night, whether he had a date with him or not.

  Suddenly, a scream caught Jillian’s attention. One of the corner chains holding a dancer’s platform had broken loose, and the dancer on it screamed again. Thank God the dancer had reacted quickly enough to grab one of the remaining chains holding it up before she fell. Dangling twenty feet above the patrons, she clung precariously to the end of the chain, looking up as if she was thinking of trying to climb it. Before Jillian could do anything, the wolfish guy she had been admiring had climbed the ladder to the platform. He leaped to one of the chains still holding the platform and shimmied across the top to reach the chain the dancer was holding on to.

  The music was still in heavy jungle beat mode, most patrons unaware of the potential tragedy unfolding before them. Jillian rushed to tell a server to get help and to turn off the music so the guy rescuing the woman could concentrate.

  “Hell, that’s part of the show,” the server said, smiling at her. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

  “The guy trying to rescue her is part of it too?”

  The server glanced up at him. “No. Once in a blue moon we get some hero type that has to show off how macho he is. He must not be from around here either.”

  “He could injure himself! Kill himself even!”

  “Safety nets spring up and will catch them if they fall. We’ve only had one case where we’ve had to use them, and everyone, including the would-be hero, loved it.”

  Then the man managed to climb down the chain to the woman and had her crawl up his body. As agile as she was, she probably could have made it up the chain by herself if the heroic guy hadn’t tried to rescue her. The dancer wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck as he made the treacherous climb.

  Even so, Jillian was practically holding her breath. The visitor wasn’t part of the show, and any misstep on his part and the two of them could fall. Maybe he knew this was part of the show. Maybe the waiter didn’t realize it.

  The music was still playing, but a lot more of the patrons had stopped to watch, probably because only once in a blue moon someone came to the dancer’s rescue.

  At the top edge of the platform, the guy made his way across the wooden edge until he reached the next corner chain. He paused there for the longest time. The music was still playing, the only lights the ones highlighting the dancers on their platforms. The other dancers no longer moved, riveted by their fellow dancer and the heroic guy. If he jumped to the ladder and missed, that would be the end of the show, and the dancer and the Good Samaritan would fall. What if the net didn’t appear in time?

  Jillian wanted to do something, anything to help him. All she could do was watch lamely and pray he was successful.

  He leaped for the ladder and her heart stopped. One of his hands grabbed the ladder, the other swinging to grab hold also. Then he climbed down, the woman still clinging to him.

  Jillian wanted to give him a hug, thank him for being a hero, wishing she had a guy like that in her life. When he reached the floor, the woman he’d saved gave him a big kiss, several other women crowding around him to give him hugs and kisses, and her brother said, “Show’s over. Let’s go.”

  As it turned out, Miles had a job the next day, and he left bright and early. Jillian got another PI case and headed back to Tacoma. The hot guy would just be one of those dreams she had when she needed some fantasy in her life. But really, who wouldn’t admire such able-bodied heroism?

  Chapter 1

  Present day

  Oregon

  “Miles, call me when you get this message. I’m working with a group of jaguar shifters on a case and don’t know when I’ll get back to our cabin. I’ll be working for the jaguars’ boss, Martin Sullivan, on the case. Call me.”

  Jillian Matthews parked in front of the log cabin where her brother had intended to visit with his friend Doug. Douglas Wendish was a wolf like them, but she’d never met him. She thought her brother might already be there. But he would have answered the phone, wouldn’t he? Maybe they were running as wolves. She couldn’t help but be anxious about Miles—he’d been shot only a week ago running as a wolf in these same woods.

  As soon as she got out of her car in the cold, misty Oregon forest, she knew something was wrong. Smoke curled from the stone chimney, as if welcoming a visitor inside to warm up, but chairs on the front porch were overturned, the smell of fresh blood wafted in the air, and the door was wide open.

  Her heart beating triple time, she pulled out her Glock and called Leidolf, the local red pack leader who owned the cabins, to ask for backup and possibly his EMTs for medical support.

  “Wait for backup,” Leidolf said in a commanding pack leader way.

  “Going in. Call you when I know more.” He wasn’t her pack leader, and someone inside could be injured or dying.

  She pocketed her phone and readied her Glock. Listening for any sounds, she approached the deck and heard someone moaning inside. She took a deep breath and smelled other scents.

  Humans. Wolves. A cat.

  She climbed onto the deck, making it creak, but she kept moving forward cautiously in case someone inside might still be a threat. Other than the low moan, she couldn’t make out any other sounds.

  Barely breathing, she quietly stole into the cabin. When she saw a boot behind the couch, her heart thundered and she rushed around the furniture. A blond-haired man was sprawled on his back, his hand gripping his throat, blood trickling through his fingers.

  “Hold on!” She bolted for the kitchen nearby, grabbed a bunch of paper towels, and raced back to him. Holding the towels against his throat, she asked, “Douglas?”

  The injured man stared at her, his blue eyes half lidded, and he gave a little nod.

  “You’re going to be fine.” She set her gun on the floor next to her so she could reach it if she needed to, then quickly called Leidolf back while holding the towels against Douglas’s wound. “Douglas Wendish needs an ambulance ASAP. He’s lost a lot of blood.” Leidolf would have the records on who rented his pack’s cabins and would know he was a wolf.

  “Everyone’s on their way. ETA—ten minutes. Cause of wound?”

  Jillian considered the bite wounds on Douglas’s arms and his neck. “Someone bit him on the throat and arms. Looks like he was trying to defend himself.”

  Jillian took in a deep breath, trying to smell any sign her brother had been there, worried he could be a victim too. But he hadn’t been here. So where in the world was he? “Do you know who bit you?” Jillian asked Douglas.

  He shook his head weakly.

  She heard the ambulance and breathed a tentative sigh of relief. Douglas was in bad shape, but at least with the paramedics here, he might have a chance. This couldn’t be a coincidence. They’d already had a case of a jaguar shifter being shot at Leidolf’s ranch, the shooting of her brother, and now this. Leidolf had asked her to help the jaguars in the United Shifters Fo
rce to figure it all out.

  As soon as Leidolf’s officers arrived and the paramedics took care of Douglas, she drove back to her cabin, anxious to see if Miles had taken a wolf run and returned there. At least she could leave Miles a note to warn him what had happened in case he didn’t check his phone right away, if he still wasn’t there. She prayed he wasn’t in trouble again.

  * * *

  When Douglas had called Vaughn Greystoke, worried about not being able to reach his friend Miles, Vaughn told him he’d meet with him and look into it. Vaughn had been on a missing persons case in southern Oregon that he’d resolved and wasn’t too far from Douglas’s location. And Douglas was one of his pack mates from Colorado, and a close friend, so he knew Vaughn was nearby.

  Douglas texted back forty-five minutes later: My friend got ahold of me. No need to worry about it. Case of miscommunication. Thanks!

  Vaughn was almost to the cabin, so he figured he’d just drop in, say hi, and return home to Colorado. When he tried to get ahold of Douglas to tell him that, there was no response.

  Vaughn didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he couldn’t help it. That was some of the trouble with being a wolf, SEAL, and PI. After asking for Vaughn’s help, Douglas wouldn’t have ignored Vaughn’s call. Perhaps he had gone running as a wolf with his friend. Vaughn would have called the local pack leader, Leidolf, to have some of his men check on Douglas, but Vaughn was so close to the cabin’s location, he would probably get there before Leidolf could send anyone.

  When Vaughn arrived at the cabin, no vehicles were parked there, and two chairs and a small table had been knocked over on the deck. A light rain was falling and a gentle breeze was blowing.

  He got out of his Land Rover, gun readied, and moved quickly to the porch. He smelled Douglas’s blood right away, several wolves—some of them Leidolf’s men’s scents—and a cat’s scent. His heart pounding, he rushed into the cabin, navigated around the sofa, and came face-to-face with a big, male gray wolf, his nose touching the blood on the floor before he whipped his head around.

  Vaughn was startled, and the wolf looked just as shocked to see him. Before he could prepare for the wolf’s reaction, the wolf leaped at Vaughn. Huge paws slammed against Vaughn’s shoulders. Without being able to brace himself in time, he fell backward and hit the floor hard, losing his Glock under the damn sofa.

  He grabbed the knife in his boot, but the gray wolf didn’t attack him; instead, it shot out the door.

  “Damn it to hell.” Vaughn shoved his hand under the sofa for the gun, pulling it from the accumulated dust bunnies. He shook it off and raced out of the cabin just in time to see the direction the wolf had run.

  Vaughn holstered his gun, immediately called Leidolf, and began to strip.

  “This is Vaughn Greystoke. I’m at Douglas Wendish’s cabin near your ranch and—”

  “We’ve got him in surgery. Jillian Matthews found him and called me. He’s in a drug-induced coma.”

  “Hell.”

  “We’re taking care of him.”

  “A wolf was here. I’m going after him. Get me a nearby cabin so I can investigate this, will you?”

  Leidolf told him which cabin he’d give him, the same one he’d stayed at last year when he’d taken a vacation there. Leidolf would have his men park Vaughn’s vehicle there. Vaughn gave him the code to unlock the car door. “Going after him.”

  Then Vaughn threw his clothes, cell, and gun in the car, locked it, and shifted. He tore after the wolf, hoping he’d reach him quickly. He intended to get some answers from him pronto. Vaughn prayed Douglas would pull through after the vicious attack he must have suffered.

  Loping through the Oregon forest as a wolf, Vaughn was hot on the trail of the other. For the moment, he and the other wolf were running through the evergreen forests near the Columbia River Gorge, the sound of yet another waterfall rushing over the top of a cliff nearby. A light, icy rain continued to fall, the guard hairs of his outer coat repelling the droplets.

  For about an hour, he chased the wolf through the underbrush of the misty forest, the birds diving for cover in the Douglas firs and western hemlocks as soon as they saw him coming. He wondered where the wolf was going. The wolf had been looping around as if trying to reach a location, but then moving in another direction, most likely fearing Vaughn would catch up to him.

  Then somewhere in the deep forest ahead, the wolf suddenly howled. Calling for help? Out there?

  That meant he’d stopped long enough to howl. Vaughn raced forward to close the gap, trying to reach him before he ran off again. Or before reinforcements arrived.

  Why else would the wolf howl? Other members of his pack must be out there. Maybe he thought he could scare Vaughn off, making him think a wolf shifter pack was out there and would back him up any minute. Vaughn had used that ploy himself a time or two. He wasn’t giving up on his prey no matter what. He had to learn the truth. Had the wolf standing next to the bloody mess on the cabin floor been the same wolf who had torn into Douglas? If the blood on the wolf’s muzzle was any indication, and the way he had run off, Vaughn would have to say he certainly could be.

  Yet how had a she-wolf, Jillian Matthews, found Douglas, called Leidolf for help, and not been injured by this same wolf?

  The chance this wolf would have left Douglas for dead, run off, then returned after Leidolf’s people had come for Douglas would be pretty slim. Unless the wolf had nearly killed Douglas in anger, then got his rage under control and came back to get rid of any evidence. Maybe he realized he hadn’t made sure Douglas was dead and went back to see. What if Jillian had witnessed the attack, and that’s how she knew a wolf had severely injured Douglas and needed Leidolf’s help?

  Leidolf hadn’t said Jillian had seen the attack though. Not that Vaughn had given him a chance to respond much. Except for a quick mention that Leidolf would give him the cabin closest to Douglas’s on the north side while he investigated the attempted murder, Vaughn hadn’t had time to do anything else but agree. He was certain Leidolf had as many questions for him as Vaughn had for Jillian. Like how had Vaughn happened to be at the cabin so soon after the incident when he lived in Colorado.

  And Vaughn wanted to know who Jillian was. Douglas’s girlfriend? He didn’t remember Douglas dating anyone by that name.

  Right now, Vaughn was so busy tracking the wolf’s scent that when something hit a tree near him, and then a shot rang out, it took him a second to realize someone was shooting at him. He growled low, irritated anyone would be hunting out there. He continued his pursuit, another round slamming into a tree near his chest. No damn hunter was going to stop Vaughn in his mission. He had to take down the wolf and learn if he was the one who had nearly killed Douglas. Vaughn dodged around a hemlock, hoping the hunter would think he’d taken off in another direction. But Vaughn couldn’t detour from his path for long or lose the wolf. As soon as he was in the clear again, a third round clipped the shrubs in front of him. Damn it! He would soon be out of the shooter’s range. Just a little bit farther. Then he felt the kick of the fourth round impact with his right shoulder and the sound of the round firing right afterward.

  Trying to dodge behind a tree to get out of the hunter’s sights, Vaughn stumbled over fallen branches. He didn’t have time to look for the shooter. The hunter fired another shot and the round whizzed past Vaughn’s head, sinking into the trunk of a massive maple tree with a thud. Hell. No matter how much he wanted to continue on the wolf’s trail, he couldn’t. Not with the shooter actively hunting him down.

  Right before Vaughn sidetracked to the river a few feet below a rocky cliff, he saw something golden moving so fast in the undergrowth, he could barely believe his eyes.

  A big cat? Jaguar? Shifter? What in the world was going on? He’d never seen a jaguar shifter before.

  Vaughn jumped into the river, the cold water enveloping him as he went under. He s
urfaced and let it carry him away, the whole time mentally cursing the shooter.

  What of the cat he’d witnessed running through the woods? He hadn’t imagined seeing a jaguar. He wasn’t delirious. Yet seeing one of them in an Oregon forest was like finding a unicorn. Had one gotten free from the Oregon Zoo? Or a big cat reserve? Then again, his pack leaders had said jaguar shifters lived among them. Taking the wolf down had to be priority, yet he wished he’d been able to chase after the big cat too and learn what it was doing there.

  Hell, maybe the jaguar, and not a wolf, was responsible for Douglas’s wound.

  * * *

  Jillian couldn’t believe that a lupus garou could be trying to kill her brother. The wolf chasing Miles had to be a shifter. She knew he wasn’t running with Miles for fun. Not with the way her brother had howled, calling to her for help. If the other wolf had been in trouble too, he would have howled along with her brother. No, he’d been hell-bent on Miles’s trail. Worse, she worried he could be the wolf who had nearly killed Douglas.

  She ran through the woods to track where the wounded wolf had gone once he’d finally veered from her brother’s path. Wild wolves had been sighted in Oregon, so at first she’d thought it might have claimed the territory and was chasing Miles out of the area, or worse, wanting to kill him. When she couldn’t scare him off with the first three rounds she’d fired, she was certain he was a shifter. She found drops of blood collected on vegetation, the light rain already diluting it, and followed them to the river, where the trail ended.

  In the misty rain, she glanced in the direction the river was flowing and thought she saw a wolf’s head bobbing up and down in the water. She couldn’t be certain, considering the conditions: the water was dark, the object was far away, and the day was overcast.

  She continued to watch until whatever it was disappeared beyond a bend. Her heart pounding, she ran in the direction of her cabin, hoping her brother was there and could tell her what was going on. If she didn’t need to hang on to her rifle and cell phone, she would have shifted and run as a wolf. Much faster that way.