Wolf Hunt

by R. J. Blain

  “I can, and I will if necessary.”

  My wolf was intrigued by the confidence in Amber’s voice.

  “Have him load you up with as many weapons as you can. I’m going to give you a phone number. Have him call it. When they answer, have him tell them he will bring cookies if they promise not to shoot him. Ask for directions. Bring a vehicle with good tires and handling. I’m expecting you both here by morning. Have Bob destroy his phone, kill every electronic in it, and get disposables.”

  “Destroying the phone would not be wise.”

  “Why not?”

  “Trust me.”

  “Get rid of it. Put it in a charging case so it stays on and ship it overseas for all I care, but get rid of the phone. I can’t afford any tracking devices coming up here. Every piece of electronics and known bugs will be gone or I’m kicking both of your asses off this mountain. Am I understood? Ship them to Timbuktu for all I care, but they will not be on your person.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. Memorize these numbers. I am expecting text check ins on the hour every hour.” I gave her all of my cell numbers and had her repeat them back to me. “Tell Bob I want another sniper rifle. It can be a gift for putting up with his shit.”

  “We have a third person with us.”

  “Okay. You have a third person with you. Fine. Fine. Same applies to him. Dump all the electronics. Any other surprises I don’t want to know about?” I snarled.

  “No, sir.”

  “If you aren’t here in eight hours flat, I’m coming to find you. If I have to come find you, all three of you will regret it. Put Bob back on.”

  “Please don’t kill me, Bob,” my friend pleaded.

  “Death is an easy way out. Don’t worry, Bob. You’ll live for a nice long time. After all, I need you alive to drain your wallet absolutely dry. We will have words when you arrive, Bob.”

  “I’ll be ready for them. If it helps my case any, Amber kidnapped us both. She really did. Right out from under the team’s noses.”

  “Bob.”

  “Yes?”

  “Tick, tock. You have eight hours to get here. Do not make me come for you.”

  “You won’t have to,” Bob replied before hanging up.

  Heading outside, I took time destroying the phone, snarling curses at the device, at Bob, and at the twisted mess my life had become.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Fury, the kind born of worry, anxiety, and uncontrollable circumstances, kept the moon’s call at bay, and the plethora of ingredients scattered over the kitchen counters gave me an outlet for my restlessness.

  The carrots took the brunt of my negativity, leaving me with a huge bowl of minced orange vegetables I needed to use.

  They became the foundation for cake. I had purchased extras of everything, anticipating the first few dishes would be the product of anxiety and stress. Carrot cake was on my short list of foods I didn’t like, but I wasn’t in the habit of wasting ingredients, and until I worked out the worst of my tension, working on something requiring more delicacy wasn’t an option.

  Force feeding Desmond and his daughter would provide me with some sport and entertainment while ensuring the cake was consumed. I’d take the third one up the mountain to Bodwin as a part of my bribe. Satisfied with how I’d put the food to use, I went back to work, crushing walnuts and pecans.

  I somehow managed not to turn them into powder before they made it into the batter. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Lane and Anthony staring at me, and the SEAL’s mouth hung open while his eyes widened.

  Standing straight, I glared at the two men. “What is it?”

  “I am making a mental note never to get into a knife fight with you, sir.”

  “If you’re going to watch, you will do so sitting down. There will be no nervous fidgeting anywhere near my kitchen.” I redirected my attention to the kitchen, stepping over to one of the four ovens to check its temperature. Satisfied it was heated to the appropriate temperature, I went back to work preparing the three cake pans I’d be stuffing inside.

  “Your kitchen?” I heard the laughter in Lane’s voice and chose to ignore it.

  “Mine.”

  Anthony chuckled and dragged his stool into the kitchen, positioning himself on the fringe of my warpath. “I don’t think it’s your kitchen, Declan. Please give me something to do.”

  I glared at the programmer, scanned my available ingredients, and stared at the massive bag of potatoes. “Wash those. Peel half of them, and then cut and separate them into two bowls; with skins in one, without in the other.”

  “In water?”

  “Yes.” I drew in a deep breath, held it, and exhaled slowly to purge my agitation from my body. “Even cubes, geek. Don’t get sloppy on me and ruin my food.”

  It wasn’t their fault Bob had thrown a stick in the spokes. It wasn’t their fault the full moon was on the rise. It wasn’t their fault there were two werewolves I didn’t trust prowling around.

  None of what had happened was their fault.

  Anthony snickered. “I would never dream of it. Just don’t throw a spoon at me tonight. I’ll behave, I promise.”

  When I turned to Lane, the SEAL held his hands up, slinking over to a stool and sitting down out of my way. “I’ll just sit over here and stay out of the way.”

  “You can run down the inventory while I work. I want to know what I’m working with. I need to start building our strategy.”

  “Won’t that interfere with your kitchen mission?”

  “Lane, the inventory.”

  “Okay, okay. Keep your britches on, Major.”

  “Declan.”

  “I’ve got the inventory in my bag.”

  “Go get it.” While Lane retreated to the bedroom he had claimed as his, I folded in the crushed nuts and began the process of pouring the batter into the greased baking dishes so I could get them in the oven. I was sliding the last into place when the SEAL returned. While he made himself comfortable, I set the timer for the cake.

  “I’ll start off with your rifle. According to the briefing, you were stellar at the long ranges, so I conned your Bob out of a L115A3 AWM. I was considering the CheyTac Intervention, but I thought you’d have more fun with the AWM.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t get an M82.”

  “I had a feeling if you were wanting a sniper rifle, you were going for distance.”

  I shook my head, considered my ingredients, and announced, “Beef Wellington.”

  Anthony paused in his chopping, his eyes going round. “You love me. You truly love me.”

  “I proposed to some lady on the phone earlier. Sorry, Tony. I don’t love you.”

  With his eyes narrowed in suspicion, my friend replied, “I’m not sure if you’re lying to me or not.”

  “Apparently, she likes men who are a better shot than she is. I told her I was a sniper, but I was rusty. I was rejected.”

  Lane snickered. “Do you even have any kills in the field, Declan?”

  “I’m the ‘go in and steal things’ guy, not the ‘go in and make the kill shot’ guy.” Killing people wasn’t how I operated, though I had been forced to pull the trigger in combat to get my team out alive. “I learned sniper techniques because it made the uppers happy.”

  “According to my briefing, you made friends with every last weapon they put in your hand. All skill, zero desire to put those skills to good use.”

  “I prefer to non-fatally disable people.”

  “You’re the oddest Marine I’ve ever met.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Lane. I didn’t even know I was officially a Marine Major until I got dragged back in. I didn’t have an official military branch. They were all disguises for operations. I’ve done ops with just about everyone. At least the Marines are straightforward enough.”

  “What rank were you before they bumped you up?”

  I snorted, shaking my head. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I was the odd jobs guy. I was given a
job and told to do it. The Bard was my handler until I took advantage of the blown op to get out. What else do I have to work with?”

  “Twelve Beretta M9s, enough ammo for a good run, enough plastics to take out a tank or three, flak vests, standard bullet proof vests, a box of grenades, short-range com kits, a little bit of this, a little bit of that.”

  “Define a little bit of this and a little bit of that.”

  “I didn’t know what I’d need so I took a bit of everything.”

  Closing my eyes, I counted to ten, debating the pros and cons of storming out of the cabin and spending the night as a pink, glow in the dark wolf or putting up with Lane. I cracked open an eye and regarded the spread of ingredients with a resigned sigh.

  It was going to be a long night.

  I cooked my way around the world, and seven hours after I started, I'd made an obscene amount of food. The quantity I ate would've horrified Anthony and Lane if they hadn’t succumbed to a food-induced coma two hours into my spree.

  Of the foods I made, most of the Chinese dishes never made it to the refrigerator, ending up down my throat minutes after making it. Sometimes sacrifices had to be made, and my wolf really liked black bean chicken. He also liked anything dealing with ginger, which resulted in the disappearance of an entire three-tray batch of cookies.

  I sighed my contentment and looked over my domain. Brownies, cookies, and cakes littered the counters. Most of the main dishes had already made it to the refrigerator or freezer, but the excess took over most of the kitchen, neatly packed away in plastic tubs ready for transport to the smaller cabin for storage.

  There was likely enough to feed Richard, his friend, and the seven ladies once I found them with some left over. Shaking my head at the quantity I had made, I ferried the first load to the other cabin.

  Neither Desmond nor his daughter were within, but I wasn’t surprised. Wolf prints marred the snow behind their cabin, which suited me well enough. The only trouble they’d find on our side of the mountain were the cliffs, and I doubted a fall would do more than hurt them.

  By the time the sun rose, the moon would be setting. If the pair was wise, they’d return under the cover of darkness. The moon had already peaked, and without its call hounding me every other second, I was able to relax.

  It took me four trips to transfer everything to the second refrigerator and freezer. When I stepped out of the smaller cabin, I came face to face with Desmond, who was wrapped in a snow-dusted bathrobe.

  “What are you doing?” the man growled, and there was more wolf in his voice than man.

  “Ran out of room in the refrigerator and freezer, so I’m borrowing yours. If you’re hungry, there’s plenty to eat. The brownies are for Nicole.” I stepped out of the man’s way. “Have a pleasant evening?”

  Desmond’s nose flared as he breathed in my scent. “Where are your friends?”

  “Sound asleep. They’re victims of food coma.” I stepped out of the werewolf’s way so he could come into the cabin designated as his territory. “That was my last trip of food, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “You didn’t go on a run?”

  “I didn’t. I don’t.” I shrugged. “Where’s Nicole?”

  “I’m here,” the woman replied. A moment later, she plowed into her father’s back, shoving him into the cabin. Like Desmond, she was dressed in a bathrobe. “Did I hear the word brownies?”

  I pointed at the counter. “Enjoy.”

  “First, he gets me a gun. Then he bakes me brownies. Dad, I’m taking him home with me.”

  “I claimed him first, daughter.”

  “I’m not for sale.” Shaking my head, I headed out the door only to have Desmond snag me by the collar of my shirt.

  “Go for a run, son. I can hold down the fort.”

  I halted at the tug on my collar, pulled out the latest disposable phone from my pocket, and checked the time. “No can do. I’ve got work to do. Your son-in-law isn’t going to rescue himself.”

  “Rescue?” Nicole demanded.

  “Rescue. Someone’s tailing him, his friend, and his ladies.”

  “And how do you know that?” the woman snarled.

  My wolf tensed at the anger in the werewolf’s voice. I swallowed back my urge to turn, growl, and snap my teeth at her. “I know because it’s my job to know. It’s a need to know situation, and you do not need to know. When you need to know, I will tell you. Until then, you will sit, keep quiet, and do as you promised, or I’m kicking your ass off this mountain and sending you right back to the United States. There are nine people depending on me not to botch this extraction. I will not tolerate anyone compromising this operation.”

  “Nicolina Angelica Desmond Murphy, back off and sit down. Eat your brownies, and don’t you even think about doing what I know you’re thinking about doing. No murders.”

  While I sympathized with the woman, who gave a wordless scream of frustration, I couldn’t afford to back down. I remained tense until I heard the scrape of a stool sliding on ceramic tile. “You don’t have to like me, you don’t have to agree with what I’m doing, but you have to follow orders. If you’re going to be a part of this team, you play by my rules like you promised.”

  “She’ll obey,” Desmond promised. The man’s hold on my collar remained firm.

  Instead of snarling like I wanted, I stood still and waited.

  “You really should go on a run, son. I’ll keep your territory safe.”

  “I don’t run on nights like tonight.”

  “We all do. Don’t be shy. When was the last time you had a good run?”

  I found it interesting Desmond referred to shifting shapes as going out for a run. Uncertain of what the male’s goal was, I hesitated. He knew what I was; his nose was telling him the truth as much as mine was telling me about him.

  “I’m fine, Desmond.” I checked the time again. “First, I don’t have time for, as you put it, a run. Second, I don’t need a run. I need to do a gear check and finish making my game plan.”

  “I can handle the gear check.”

  “I haven’t seen the stuff yet. I need to do it myself. Back off, Desmond, and let me do my job.”

  “My job is to make sure snappish Fenerec don’t maul their friends during the full moon.”

  I blinked. Fenerec? Pulling free of Desmond’s hold, I turned to face him, and some of my puzzlement must have shown in my expression; he sucked in a breath and his eyes widened.

  “The only person at risk of being mauled here is you. Back off and let me do my job.”

  “You’re a rogue, aren’t you?”

  “Well, considering I steal things for a living…”

  “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

  “I don’t, actually. Let’s not beat around the bush. Both of you know from smell alone I’m a werewolf. That’s why I rented both cabins instead of the one. You do things your way, I do things mine. I don’t run during the full moon, and that’s that. Go chase your tail if that makes you feel better about it, but leave me alone.”

  “Fenerec.”

  “Werewolf.”

  “No, the name for our kind is Fenerec.”

  “I’m pretty sure I’m a werewolf.”

  Desmond arched his brow. “When was the last time you were in a pack, son?”

  Canting my head, I considered the man, shifting my gaze to his daughter, who watched me with wide eyes while devouring a brownie. My wolf whined in my head. Pack was something he desired but couldn’t have. “I’ll be blunt, so you get the point and leave me alone about it. Until you coerced me into this extraction, I’d never met another werewolf face-to-face.”

  Nicole choked on her brownie and slapped her chest several times before gasping, “I call dibs.”

  Closing his eyes, Desmond sighed. “Please forgive my daughter. She has no sense of priority, and as an Alpha female, she lives to expand her pack. She also has no dignity.”

  “Don’t make me shoot you, Dad.”

&
nbsp; I checked the time. “Can we continue this talk later? I have something I need—” The rumble of an engine cut me off, and I spun around. “Excuse me, I have a murder to attend to.”

  Before Desmond could stop me, I stalked out into the night, my gaze snapping to the headlight beams illuminating the cliff. The approaching SUV was smaller than Desmond’s, and its driver hugged the wall, slow and steady until reaching the broader slope and parking next to our vehicle.

  I stalked forward, shoving my phone in my pocket. The front passenger side door opened, and Bob stepped out.

  My friend hadn’t changed much since the last time I had seen him. He still wore the same clean-cut suit I expected him in, although his brown hair stood up every which way.

  When he caught sight of me, he waved. “Bob.”

  I closed the distance between us, tempted to grab him by the front of his suit and toss him into the snow. “Bob.”

  The sound of car doors slamming drew my attention away from Bob to his friends. I disregarded the dark-haired woman, who I presumed was Amber, and focused my attention to the man who stepped forward to stand beside Bob.

  The only difference between them were a few inches in height and the cut of their suits. Deciding the woman was my best bet, I focused my full attention on her. “There are two of them. One is bad enough. Why are there two of them?”

  “Sorry. Had to kidnap both. Bad things happen when I let them stray too far apart. I’m Amber.”

  “Declan. You’re early. Good. You can help me go over the gear and make plans.” I turned to come nose to nose with Desmond.

  The werewolf’s fury stung my nose.

  “What are you three doing here?” The way Desmond growled stirred my wolf’s ire.

  I hadn’t lost control to my wolf in years, but he was on the other male before I could stop him. While he was always in my head, I forgot just how much he learned from me. Grabbing hold of Desmond by his bathrobe, my wolf twisted and tossed him into the snow, tensing to lunge for the fallen male.

  Bob was mine to protect, and I wasn’t about to let a rival male too close.