His Wolf (Wolf of My Heart) (24 page)

After lunch, Red took me into the office. There we unpacked a brand new computer, which I set up. By 2:00, I was sorting through a massive pile of ledgers, unopened mail, and unidentifiable papers. There was a lifetime of work there. I could only hope I wasn't around long enough to finish it.

Chapter Seventeen

I performed on autopilot all day.
Bronte the robot.
Doing what she had to do to keep everyone except herself happy. It was pretty scary how fast I adjusted to my situation, at least on the outside. Inside I fumed. I felt like a stick of dynamite, fully lit and ready to blow.

My last memory of Erik haunted every waking moment. All that blood. Every time I thought of it, I got sick to my stomach. While Red and the rest of the pack were treating me civilly enough at the moment, I knew what they were capable of. My situation could turn on a dime. So the tiny glimmer of hope to which I desperately clung did little to brighten my dark mood.

I thought about Danu a lot, probably because I kept sending her arrow prayers on Erik's behalf. If he died, part of me would die, too. Or maybe it was all of me. We certainly loved each other on two levels--emotion that was all consuming.

Sunday night after a quick shower, I fell asleep from pure exhaustion. I was alone in the house except for Red, which confirmed my theory about the cabin mostly being used by the pack on weekends. There were guards outside, though.

Monday morning a sharp, "Bronte, up!" got me out of bed. The day played out much as the day before it, minus most of the
Weres
. By sifting through countless documents, I learned that Lake Shore Rentals belonged to Red, a very recent purchase. That explained how he'd secured the most secluded cabin for himself and why no one objected to additional random occupants.

All day I waited for the door to crash in and the cabin to swarm with
Corteggio
. But when that hadn't happened by nightfall, I began to wonder if they would ever show up. Then I remembered of the videoconference and Danu's reminding the Counselors that I wasn't under their jurisdiction. Did that mean I'd dropped off their radar? Would they now ignore Bronte
Hannigan
, the sup who couldn't seem to stay out of trouble?

After dinner that evening, I went straight to my loft and perched on the sill of my only window. I felt lonely and a little desperate. The snow-covered ground lay far below, too far to jump and survive. I could see one of the guards that
was
on watch. I'd named him Patch earlier that day because of his tattered jeans. With some kind of firearm in hand, he'd be
there most of the night. So far, I hadn't met a single teenage
Were
, but Red had told me there were no cubs in his pack.

For some reason I thought of my dad. What would he think if I didn't show up for Megan's birthday Saturday night? I next thought of my dead mother. Had she heard any of the prayers I'd sent up today, all of them for Erik? I tried to imagine my life without him, but not for long. The possibility was just too painful to bear. I marveled that he'd so thoroughly stolen my heart in such a short time. Our carefree days in his cabin felt like a dream to me now.
A crazy, wonderful dream.
Thinking about them, I finally fell asleep that night.

Tuesday was more of the same with the tedium already taking me down. By noon, I felt like biting someone's head off, and that someone should've been Maverick, whose eyes seemed to follow me around the kitchen. Red, who'd taken my grocery list into town, had left him in charge, a show of faith that made me very nervous.

My fears were realized around 1:00, when Maverick came into the office where I worked entering pack bank statements into Red's new financial software program. He stepped up close behind me and began to play with my hair. When I twisted in the seat to swat his hand away, he caught my face in a grip so tight that my eyes watered. His mouth covered mine in a crushing kiss that tasted the way beer smelled.

I jerked my head back and jumped to my feet, knocking over the typist's chair I'd been sitting in. Maverick pinned me against the wall and cruelly kissed me again. I tried to push him away, to knee or scratch him. Nothing worked until my groping fingers found a metal three-hole punch lying on the file cabinet. I grabbed the thing and swung it at Maverick's face.

With a howl of pain, he staggered back.   I shot out the door, screaming for the nearest guard--I called this one
G.I.
because of his
camo
clothing--on the north side of the cabin. He whirled around in surprise and caught me as I slipped in the snow trying to brake.

"Maverick," was all I could get out.

Frowning, he grabbed my arm and marched me back indoors. Maverick was sitting on the couch in front of the TV, looking innocent as anything. He coolly arched an eyebrow and then stood. "Did she try to run? Sorry, man. I was watching the game."

G.I.
didn't answer. Instead he took stock of the situation, his gaze lingering on my pinched face and puffy lips as well as the long cut on Maverick's face.

"Watch your step,
Mav
," he said. "She
ain't
worth it."

Maverick flushed. "You've got this all wrong."

"You heard me."
G.I.
left without another word.

Though Maverick stayed clear of me the rest of the day, I was still shaky when I went to bed Tuesday night after serving seven
Weres
roast beef and chocolate cake. I made sure my knife was under my pillow and then fell asleep with my fingers wrapped around it.

A hand clamping down on my mouth woke me sometime later. Terrified, I swung the knife, just missing my assailant, who somehow dodged the gleaming blade.

"Bronte, it's me!"

Erik was alive! Alive and with me! No whisper had ever sounded so sweet. With a gasp and a sob, I dropped my weapon and threw my arms around him as he bent over my bed. He lifted me up; I kicked off the covers and wrapped my arms and legs around him. We kissed again and again--open-mouthed, all-out, desperate kisses that tasted of my salty tears.

Behind him, a shifting shadow caught my eye.
Red?
I would've screamed if Erik hadn't pushed my face against his neck, smothering the sound before it left my mouth.

"It's okay. He's with me." Erik set me on my feet and grabbed my hand, tugging me toward my wide-open window. I saw that he had a bandage on the side of his head.  I also saw that the window screen was gone. Someone--no, two
someones
--stepped up behind us without making a sound. That was pretty amazing, I thought, considering the size of their shadows.

It wasn't until one of them moved into a beam of moonlight that I recognized him.
"Marten?"

"
Isak
," he whispered back.
"Marten's outside with Dad."

I shifted my gaze slightly to the left. "Is that you, Bo?"

"Yeah."

I focused on Erik again, trying to muffle the sobs that just kept coming. "I-I thought you were d-dead."

"The bullet just grazed my head. I don't know why it knocked me out."

"But all that blood…"

"Scalp injuries always look worse than they are," whispered Bo the macho football player who'd probably had his share.

"Are you okay?" Erik looked me in the eye. He kept his voice low. "Did anyone hurt you? Touch you?"

"No."

"But that knife--"

"I had to be ready for anything."

With a soft curse, he pulled me close again.

Isak
touched Erik's arm. "Dude, we need to get her out of here."

"I know." Erik grabbed me by the shoulders, once more looking me in the eye. "We've taken care of the guards, so we should be good outside. How many
Weres
are inside?"

"Four.
One on the first floor; three in the bunks just below us.
How many guards did you get?"

"Three."

"There are always four."

Erik didn't seem to hear. "Now I'm going to lower you with a rope. Don't worry. Martin and
Greger
are waiting to catch you if you fall." He began to wind a rope around and over me, looping and knotting it.

"How'd you get up here?" I asked, moving whatever body part Erik wanted me to.

"Your man's got skills," said
Isak
.

Looking down, I realized that I now wore a makeshift climbing harness. Erik wrapped the loose end of the rope around his waist.

"Okay, that should do it." He patted the window sill, clearly eager for me to take that leap of faith that would put me on the ground.

"You'll be right behind me?"

He didn't answer.

"Erik! Are you guys following?"

"
Shhh
.
We'll be leaving by the front door. Hurry, Bronte."

Confused by the arrangement, I wanted details. "Then I'll come with you."

"No way.
I want you out of this now. We're pushing our luck as it is."

"But--"

"Please."

With a sigh, I gave in and sat on the sill. The crisp air cleared my head. "There really are four guards."

"I've cased this joint, Bronte. There were three."

"'Cased
this joint'?" I grabbed a double handful of his jacket and yanked him up close. "This isn't a gangster movie, and you aren't Elliot Ness, okay? These guys have real guns that kill, and you guys aren't bullet-proof."

Erik groaned. "Would you just this once trust me?"

I still hesitated before giving in. "Fine then." I put one leg over the sill.

A stealthy sound near the loft edge made me freeze in dread. Was that someone quietly climbing my ladder?

"Well, well, well. What have we here?"

Maverick!

Dodging Erik's frantic attempts to get me out the window, I ducked back inside, instead.

"Wake up, Jake!
Yo
, Lorenzo!" yelled Maverick. "We've got company."

The immediate commotion below told me he'd woken the other
Weres
on the second floor. As always, Erik pushed me behind him. I immediately disconnected us and then fumbled around trying to get the stupid ropes off my body. By the time I finished, Buzz Cut and Gramps had joined us, filling my loft to the brim.

"All we want is Bronte," said Erik.

"Can't have her," Maverick told him.

I saw the glint of Buzz Cut's gun, but before I could yell a warning, Erik sent it flying through the air with an upward sweep of his arm. It landed with a thud on the wooden floor far below. The men surged together. Fists flew. I dodged more than one of them, trying to stay out of the way since I couldn't tell who was who in the dark.

I heard a roar of fury and the unmistakable sound of ripping cloth. Someone had shifted.

"Holy shit!"
Marten fell back with a gasp of shock. Even in that dim light I could see that his eyes were huge with fright. Another
Were
shifted and then a third. I located human Erik just in time to see him toss off his jacket.

"Dude, what
are you
--"

Clothing ripped. Erik shifted.

"
Fuuuuck
!"
Sputtering,
Isak
and his brother herded me out of harm's way, momentarily blocking my view. But I heard the roar as four wolves collided.
God, what a sound.
Growls, yips, gnashing fangs.
Outnumbered by seasoned
Weres
, Erik would surely die if I didn't help. But if I shifted, I wouldn't be able to shift back for hours. Erik's family would need someone familiar with who was who and what was where to get us safely out of there.