Winter of the Wolf (11 page)

Holding the drink orders off her tray, Calum was watching them. He tilted his head at Bree. “I regret again, he would be difficult to cut down to size.”

The double meaning didn’t escape Zeb, and he lifted his beer in acknowledgment.

As the Cosantir moved away, leafing through the tickets, Bree glanced up at Zeb. “I can’t decide. Does he like you or not?”

“Damned if I can tel.” Zeb looked into her big blue eyes and deliberately rubbed a knuckle up and down her soft cheek. Why did he feel the need to get her accustomed to his hands on her?

He watched her stiffen and over-ride her instinct to retreat.

Gutsy little human. He asked, “Got suggestions on how to Gutsy little human. He asked, “Got suggestions on how to make friends with people?”

“I’l think about it.” She knocked his hand away from her face in a skilful move. “In fact, I’l make you a nice long list.”

* * *

An hour later in the tavern kitchen, Bree reluctantly puled on her jacket and headed toward the door. It had been so fun to be back in the midst of people, surrounded by conversation and laughter. But now she’d been sent home like a baby. Jeez.

Earlier, Calum had seen her limping and told her to take a break. She’d tried for a few minutes, but sitting while Vicki worked had been impossible. Unfortunately, when Bree had handed him a new pile of orders, Calum had thanked her, taken her tray away, and ordered her to leave.

She glanced back. Yes, he was watching to make sure she obeyed.

Fine. I’m going
. And maybe he was right. Her thigh throbbed as if teeth were biting at it. And even though she’d used her good arm to carry the tray, her wounded one ached. So did her shoulder.
Overdone it a little, dummy
?

As the door closed behind her, shutting off the babble of voices, she took a slow breath of cold night air. Up above, fat stars dotted the black sky. In the east, white-topped fat stars dotted the black sky. In the east, white-topped mountain peaks gleamed in the waning moonlight. Seattle was beautiful, but it had never grabbed her throat like this.

Smiling, she set out along the side of the building toward the shortcut she’d discovered earlier. Fishermen staying at the lodge had made a bee-line trail through the woods to the tavern.

As she moved away from the lit windows, unease crept up her spine. She’d walked over in the dusk, not thinking about how dark it would be on the walk home. Where was that darn four-footed Elvis when she needed him?

A huge man stepped out of the shadows.

Terror stopped her breathing. Every instinct said
flee
—but the door was too far. She lurched backwards, bringing up her guard. As her bad leg quivered with her weight, sickness baled in her bely, knowing what would come.

The monster didn’t move, but gave a long-suffering sigh.

“You gonna threaten me every time we meet?” He stepped into a pool of light. Black hair, wide shoulders, a corner of his mouth tipped-up.
Zeb
.

Relief melted her bones, and she sagged against the log wal. “I’m sorry. I didn’t see you standing there.”

“Weak apology.”

Her hands were shaking. “It was an explanation, not an apology.”

“Uh-huh.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm and

“Uh-huh.” He wrapped his fingers around her arm and tugged her forward. Effortlessly. “Let’s go.”

“What do you mean? Go?”

He nodded at the crowded parking lot. “No car. Means you walked.” The pressure of his hand on her low back kept her moving.

She started walking so he’d have no excuse to leave his hand there—right above her butt. “Did you wait for me?”

“The night isn’t safe.” He looked down, the moonlight turning his scars white. “Especialy for little females.”

“Oh.” He’d wanted to protect her? She frowned, realizing she was starting to get used to him—mostly. “I appreciate it.” He sure didn’t talk much, but his presence on the block-long path was oddly reassuring. Okay, a lot reassuring. Even a monster might think twice before taking him on.

But he walked way too fast, considering the moon-dappled darkness. When she tripped on a tree root and stumbled, he grabbed her arms. Fear shot through her at the feel of his powerful hands, but he set her on her feet, released her without a word, and waited.

After a minute, when her heart had withdrawn from her throat, she managed, “Thank you.”

He grunted his answer, but curtailed his long stride to her shorter one…the most galant rude man she’d ever met. Did he even know how to talk to a woman?

Her nervousness flipped into humor. “So, have you lived in Cold Creek al your life? Are you from this area?” Cold Creek al your life? Are you from this area?” His brows drew together, and he scowled at her in disbelief—
you want me to talk
?

Stifling a laugh, she raised her eyebrows and waited.

“Shay and I just moved here.” He paused and added, “I grew up in the Canadian mountains.”

Mountain man fit him wel, but she couldn’t imagine him as a child. “Is your family stil there?”

The muscles of his face tightened to rival the hardness of granite. “No family.”

Her heart softened with pity. “Me, neither.”

“No luck with your picture?”

“No. Nobody’s ever seen them.” No family. Al alone now. Grief slid through her.
I miss you so much, Ashley
.

They walked another minute in silence, then his hand on her arm stopped her. He pointed and whispered, “Bobcat.” With gray-brown fur and black-tufted ears, it looked like a cat on steroids. “It’s so pretty.”

He actualy grinned, a brief flash of white teeth in his dark face. Her heart hitched. For a second she saw him, not as a huge protector or a threat, but a man. Not a gorgeous one…

but devastatingly masculine.

Swalowing hard, she started walking again. Faster.

The shortcut ended on Wildwood’s dirt road by the lodge.

He didn’t speak as they went past the lodge and turned onto the narrower road to her cabin.

the narrower road to her cabin.

After unlocking her door, she started in, only to be blocked by a muscular arm.

“Wait.” Zeb stalked through the cabin, checking any hiding places. When he returned to where she stood in the door, he nodded. “Good night, little female.”

“Don’t cal me that,” she said.

He touched her cheek with his knuckles again, an infinitely gentle slide that set her nerve ends quivering. “But you are.” His gaze ran from her toes to the top of her head, leaving heat behind. “Definitely little.”

He inhaled, and a crease appeared in his cheek. “Very female.”

He bent and brushed his lips across hers. “Very soft.” His mouth moved over hers again, so lightly, not taking, but coaxing until she leaned into him, lost in the feel of the firm lips against her own.

She jerked back. What was she thinking? “Um.” She gave him a wary look.

His expression unreadable, he ran his finger over her damp lower lip. “Goodnight, little female.” He walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him.

She stared after him and jumped at a loud thump.

“
Lock
it.”

She did.

For the first time in three weeks, she slept the entire night.

For the first time in three weeks, she slept the entire night.

Chapter Ten

The mid-day sun was bright and clear as Shay roled down the windows of his truck, hoping the brisk air would chil his temper before he reached the lodge. Cold Creek was too smal to avoid Gerhard, but if the alpha-hole bared his fangs at Shay one more time, he’d be spitting teeth for a month.

No, dammit, punching him was a bad plan, since the alpha would take it as a chalenge.
Be polite, furface
. Shay growled in frustration and turned onto the dirt road. Most of the items on his checklist were completed: spare linens stocked, a new refrigerator in the back of the truck for cabin five, a routine test ordered on the wel water, septic pumping done. The Wildwood business was coming together nicely.

After parking at the side of the lodge, he jumped out, itching as if ants had crawled into his clothes. Damned metal truck. He scratched his chest, wishing he could trawsfur and rol in the dirt.

As he stepped onto the porch, the distinctive crack of a pistol split the mountain silence. Shay stiffened. The sound had come from behind the cabins, somewhere in the forest.

Another shot. Two more. Someone either was in trouble or Another shot. Two more. Someone either was in trouble or was hunting in posted territory.

He glanced toward Breanne’s cabin, feeling a quiver of unease. Her car was there, but no one moved inside.

Best go investigate. With luck, the shooter would be a trespasser, and he’d have a valid target for his frustration. He strode through the lodge, out the side door, started to pul off his shirt, then stopped. Running around as a wolf might get him peppered with bulets. With a grunt of annoyance, he stayed human and headed into the forest.

Three more shots. Shay broke into a run.

A few minutes later, he sniffed the air. Not trespassers—

Breanne and Zeb. He slowed as he reached a clearing, then stopped to watch.

Their backs were to him. Zeb fired a few shots, al hitting the hand-drawn paper target, before handing the pistol to Breanne. Shay lifted his eyebrows. Shooting lessons? The thought of an armed female was unsettling, but maybe humans did that sort of thing.

His partner had set up a decent firing range. A massive tree had toppled sideways and created a holowed-out area in the slope that would stop any stray bulets. Zeb’s jacket and a backpack with a gun case and boxes of bulets lay nearby.

Silently, Shay watched as Zeb demonstrated the proper stance. Frowning in concentration, Breanne copied the stance. Frowning in concentration, Breanne copied the position like a cub imitating its mama.

No need to disturb the lesson. Shay started to head back when the breeze shifted.

Zeb sniffed and turned. “Hey.”

Breanne spun around, pointing the pistol at Shay’s chest.

He hastily stepped behind the tree next to him.

Zeb pushed her arm down and tugged the revolver from her hand. “Don’t point unless you’re going to kil. Kil the bad guys, not your landlord.”

She bit her lip and nodded, then gave Shay a tentative smile. “I’m sorry. What are you doing up here?”

“Heard the gunfire.” He came forward. “Nice shooting, Zeb.”

Zeb shrugged off the compliment and returned to instructing. “Sight with both eyes. Breathe out. Squeeze gently, like you’d stroke a male’s bals.” His lips quirked.

“Oh wel, sure,” Breanne muttered. Her pale skin pinkened.

Was anything more attractive than a blushing female? Shay barked a laugh.

She heard. Her finger yanked on the trigger viciously, snapping a shot out, before she looked straight at Shay.

“Stroke it like that?”

Zeb glanced over, amusement in his eyes.

“Hel, a leannan.” Shay shook his head. “You’d have me

“Hel, a leannan.” Shay shook his head. “You’d have me walking bow-legged for a week.”

Even though her flush increased to a deep red, she laughed. Low and melodic, the sound ran up his spine with a gentle caress.

Obviously affected the same way, Zeb cleared his throat.

“Keep shooting.”

Too intrigued to leave, Shay grabbed some earplugs from the packet on the ground. Shoulder against a tree trunk, he put them in, blotting out the irritated chatter of a wood pixie above him.

That was a very focused female. Each suggestion Zeb made

was

implemented

immediately

with

fierce

determination. Her aim continued to improve until she hit the target more times than not.

After about fifteen minutes, Zeb checked the sun. “Time’s up. I promised Alec I’d pa”—he glanced at Breanne and amended— “buy him a beer. Shay can watch you.”

“No.”

“I have time.” Shay couldn’t think of anything more fun, in fact.

“Little female, mind what Shay says.” Zeb tapped one finger against her chin and got a frown. After grabbing his jacket, he jogged down the trail toward the lodge.

Lower lip between her teeth, Breanne looked forlorn for a second, then straightened her shoulders. Shay could almost hear her saying,
I’m not scared
. Ignoring him completely, hear her saying,
I’m not scared
. Ignoring him completely, she reloaded and fired until her revolver emptied.

He moved closer once her weapon was empty. He wasn’t about to frighten a skittish female with a loaded gun, especialy considering the way she reacted to Zeb’s
stroking
balls
joke. He laughed silently. When he was playing Elvis, he’d discovered she had a wry sense of humor. One he liked.

But sometimes he forgot she didn’t know him in human form.

“Hold for a moment.”

She looked at him.

“Focus on the target, a leannan. The front tip of your gun should be fuzzy.”

As she raised the pistol, her gaze changed from the barrel to the target. “Got it.” Her next shots were al on the paper, although scattered.

“Better.”

Her grin lit her face. After setting the pistol down, she puled off her jean jacket. Her bright red sweater hugged high, firm breasts, and Shay’s mouth went dry.

He yanked his gaze away. What the hel was wrong with him? She was human. Only a desperate male shifter—one who couldn’t win a Daonain female—would mate with a human.

She pushed her sweater sleeves up and raised the revolver again.

Keeping his attention off her softer assets, Shay studied Keeping his attention off her softer assets, Shay studied her arms. She had some good muscle tone, except… He walked around to her right side and scowled at the pink-red marks above her wrist. “What happened?”

Breanne grimaced. “Um. Something bigger and faster than me. I’m healing though.”

Outraged to think something would attack a female, Shay moved closer. “That must have hurt.” Without thinking, he took her arm and turned it to expose the underside. Serrated markings, dimpling of the skin where a human doctor had stitched the tissue together. Pink and fragile. Probably less than a month old. “What bit you?”