Wolf at the Door (24 page)

And when the silent promise of sleep swept
over her, Timber didn’t fight it. Somehow, she knew the nightmares
couldn’t find her. Not tonight.

Chapter Twenty Three

Sunlight streamed in through the curtains, making patterns on the
walls and covers. Timber pressed her nose into Brandt’s chest,
enjoying the soft tickle of his chest hair against her nose while
she breathed in his wonderful, masculine scent. Brandt’s arm
tightened, pulling her flat against him. “Mmm,” she sighed, tilting
her head back to look at him.

His eyes were still closed with sleep, his
lips soft and full, parted for the steady rise and fall of his
breathing. Timber decided to kiss him awake. It was a gentle, slow
kiss. One meant for exploring, loving, sharing. Brandt groaned
against her lips and she felt him wake, his body suddenly aware and
obviously preparing for some fun. He stiffened, one thigh sliding
over hers while he rolled on top of her. His teasing smile flashed.
“I could get used to waking up like this.”

A laugh bubbled up in her throat. “You and me
both.”

She kissed him again. It was meant to be a
light, fleeting kiss, but the moment his lips captured hers it
turned deeper, wetter, harder. His hands slid to her hips, dragging
her against his on a soft sigh. She knew it wasn’t going to get
easier. Her life didn’t typically work like that. Charles was still
out there and he wasn’t magically going to go away.

If anything, the closer she got to Brandt the
more likely he was to keep coming.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re only half
with me?” Brandt murmured against her neck, his lips soft as they
brushed over her skin. She shivered at the gentle touch. “Talk to
me, sweetheart.”

Brandt sank up next to her, his hand resting
on the smooth expanse of her belly. One touch, and she felt safe,
like she had a shot at a normal life. She tilted her face so that
she could look him in the eye, his dark mocha gaze looking right
back at her.

“I just—” The shrill cry of a phone cut
through the morning quiet and Timber cringed. “Just...that. The
real world creeping back.”

The way Brandt’s body tensed told her it was
his phone, and by his sudden stillness, the way his body was
suddenly poised, ready and eager to respond, she knew it was
important. But he didn’t bolt out of bed, his gaze held hers as he
cupped her chin. “This is normal for me, Timber. Not just with this
case, but with a lot of cases. I get calls in the middle of the
night, first thing in the morning. I’m always on call.”

And that wasn’t going to change...not that
she wanted it to. She’d fallen for Brandt in every way, the Hound
in him included. Being a Hound wasn’t just about being able to
shift into a dog. Its essence was in the combination of dog-shifter
cop. It was the man who wouldn’t walk away when someone needed him.
Brandt wouldn’t be Brandt if he wasn’t a Hound, if he wasn’t trying
to save the world. She wouldn’t have him any other way.

Timber touched her lips to him. “I know.”

“Birthdays, holidays...”

“Are you trying to talk me out of this?” She
pulled back, her head dropping back against his pillow. “Because I
get it. I know who you are; I know just what lengths you’ll go to
to help someone. I don’t want that to change. And you better get
that.”

Brandt kissed her forehead and rolled out of
bed. It took him a few seconds to locate his jeans and dig the
phone out of the back pocket. “Brandt,” he said as he pressed the
phone to his ear.

Immediately, he was all business. Standing
completely naked in his room, but she could see in his mind he was
already mentally gearing up. Still talking to whoever had called,
he went to his closet and yanked open the door, the phone cradled
against his shoulder.

Timber found herself eyeing his lean, muscled
back, the pale, muscular curve of his ass. She grinned. It was a
hell of a view. Spectacular. One she wasn’t sure she’d ever stop
marveling over. He shimmied into a pair of boxers without dropping
the phone, miraculously still holding a conversation. She wondered
just how much of it was practice and how much was pure
adrenaline.

“Is Shay okay?” his words jarred her from
ogling his ass, and Timber jerked her attention up to his face. His
jaw was tight, she could see the worry in his eyes. “We’re on our
way. Notify Nathan. He’s going to want to be there.”

Brandt tossed the phone onto the bed and
yanked on a pair of jeans and a shirt. He was scrounging for socks
while Timber slid out of bed. Her hands trembled, but she scurried
around and jumped into yesterday’s clothes. “Is Shay okay?” she
asked, her voice soft, almost too scared to ask.

“They don’t know. She’s missing.” Brandt
turned to look at her, and she could see the worry etched in every
line of his face. “Her house is trashed.”

“Charles?”

His head jerked a sharp nod.

Timber felt her heart squeeze. Instantly, the
old guilt was there, waiting to swallow her up. Charles never would
have gone after Shay if not for her. He wouldn’t have known she
existed if he hadn’t been following her. Except those were lies her
nightmares told her, the aftermath of Charles’s campaign to make
everything her fault.

There was no way to know whether or not
Charles would have found and taken Shay, regardless of Timber. As a
wolf-shifter, Shay would have been as likely a target as anyone
else. Had her chances gone up when she’d taken Timber in? Yeah.

But there’d always been a chance she’d hit
Charles’ radar.

Brandt stepped closer, but Timber smiled and
shook her head.

“Some thoughts, some guilt, just don’t go
away until you beat them away. I’m working on finding a bigger
bat.” But it wasn’t her fault. None of this was her fault. “Let’s
go find Shay.”

Because, just as with Brandt, she had to
believe there was time.

Had to believe that Shay would be all
right.

Brandt took her hand as they walked to the
door and squeezed. “We’ll get her,” he whispered, and she
smiled.

“I said something like that when we went to
rescue you.”

“Good. Because you were right. Now it’s my
turn.”

And he shoved open the front door and they
walked to the car.

***

Normally Brandt wouldn’t have brought a
civilian to a crime scene, but he couldn’t think of any reason
Timber shouldn’t be there. She’d been living with Shay for the past
few days, and if there was something in that house that might give
her a clue they might miss, he couldn’t afford for her not to be
there. And according to Tate, it was Timber who’d figured out where
Wolfe was keeping him. No one knew Wolfe as well as she did.

The attack on Shay was most definitely an
attack on Timber.

He caught the flash of guilt in her eyes
before she’d squashed it earlier in his bedroom. It wasn’t her
fault, and he was glad she realized that, but it was tied to her.
Every move Wolfe made was tied to Timber. It didn’t make her
someone to blame, but it gave Brandt a motive to watch, hopefully
one that would eventually let them land smack on top of this
bastard.

Tate walked up beside him. His gaze skipped
from Timber to Brandt, before he dropped his voice and whispered,
“Gunshots were fired inside the house. Scene is still fresh.
Neighbor called in the midst of the gunfire.”

A car pulled up to the curb, and Brandt
turned to see the Delphi alpha approach, slamming the car door as
he stalked toward them. Nathan’s body was rigid and looking for a
fight. “Bannock,” Brandt warned, voice low. He’d had Tate call in
Shay’s alpha as a courtesy, believing Nathan could keep it
together. If he couldn’t, he was out of here.

Nathan jerked a sharp nod. “I’m fine. Any
word on Shay?”

He stopped next to the three of them, only
briefly glancing at Timber.

“No, sir,” Tate said. “House is empty,
definite signs of a struggle. She didn’t go quietly.”

Nathan’s jaw popped as his teeth ground
together, and Brandt saw Timber wince. He remembered the night he’d
dropped her off at the Delphi alpha’s place. She’d thought Bannock
was scary, that he didn’t look
nice
. Right now Nathan looked
downright deadly. Feral. Brandt was reaching for her when a gunshot
sounded in the distance, a dull pop, but everyone in the group
dropped to a crouch for a moment before training won out over
instinct.

The sound wasn’t close enough to kill anyone
here, but it was close.

A dog howled in the distance, followed by
three short yips. One of theirs, then. Brandt had his gun in hand
and was moving before anyone else had a chance to react, Tate only
a breath behind him. Neither Nathan nor Timber would have
recognized the distress call of a Hound, but they responded when
Brandt moved forward. The four of them went around the side of the
house, the soft grass muffling their footsteps. A Hound was bent
behind the picnic table, his phone in hand until he saw Brandt at
the edge of the house. He pointed to the woods, then signaled he
hadn’t seen the shooter.

Tate’s phone buzzed and Brandt felt rather
than saw the other man look at his screen, since he was busy
scanning the tree line. “There’s a path tucked off behind the shed.
Shay said she runs it every morning,” Timber whispered behind
him.

“Mealy says that’s where his partner tracked
Wolfe’s scent. He was going to follow as soon as he updated me.
Gunshots were fired the moment he lost track of his partner.”

That left one Hound in the woods, no doubt
close enough to make Wolfe nervous. Brandt glanced back at Nathan.
“Keep Timber and yourself out of sight, but stay close. Use the
trees to your advantage. Tate and I will go up the main path.”

Nathan glanced at Timber. “You sure you want
her up there?”

“I don’t want either one of you up there.”
The muscle in his jaw flexed. He
should
leave them both
behind. But there’d be no convincing Nathan, and he knew he’d need
Timber close. Wolfe wanted a bargaining chip. If Shay was alive,
Timber was their only hope of keeping her that way. “So keep both
of your asses out of sight.”

Tate’s lips twitched in a brief smile before
the two of them set off down the path. He barely heard Nathan usher
Timber into the trees behind them; then they, too, went silent.
About fifty feet up the path it curved to the right. Brandt
crouched, trying to see through the trees, but the brush was too
thick. “Blind curve,” he murmured and Tate nodded.

Easy pickings if Wolfe was lying in wait.

Brandt edged around the corner first, his gun
a comforting weight in his hands. A glimpse of silver caught his
eye first and he saw a wolfhound crouched low behind a bush. He
recognized the Hound even as his gaze traveled up the path. Wolfe
stood another fifty feet down, his back to a tree, Shay in a head
lock in front of him. He had a gun pressed to her temple.

Holding back one hand, Brandt signaled for
Tate to stay still, even as he froze halfway around the bend. Shay
hadn’t gone easy, that much Brandt could see from the bruise on her
cheek, the blood that dribbled down her chin. Her shirt was ripped
and her left leg was stained with blood. She’d taken a bullet to
the thigh.

Not that Wolfe looked perfect, either. He was
bleeding from the arm he had wrapped around her neck. Brandt hoped
like hell Shay had managed to shoot him. “Charles Wolfe,” Brandt
called out and the man’s face twisted toward him. Anger flashed in
those wolf-gold eyes while Wolfe tried to stare him down. “Let her
go.”

Shay winced when the gun dug harder into her
temple. “I want what’s mine,” Wolfe gritted.

Wolfe ground the words out, his voice rough,
desperate. He knew he wasn’t in a position to bargain, but Brandt
didn’t think Wolfe could see any other way out. He doubted the
bastard had any idea what he was in for when he’d gone after
Shay.

Brandt eased out a little further onto the
path, careful to keep tight to the trees. He wanted a place to dive
into if Wolfe got a little trigger-happy.

“Don’t move.” Wolfe straightened, dragging
Shay harder against him. She stumbled as he pulled them both out
into the middle of the path. “Stay right where you are.”

“Easy,” Brandt said.

“Shut up! Get me Timber, or I will blow this
little bitch’s brains out. It’s that simple.”

Wolfe’s gun never wavered. He never pulled it
away from Shay’s temple. Then again, Shay was trained well enough
that a split second was all she needed.

Or maybe Wolfe was through underestimating
her.

Tension curled in Brandt’s gut. He sure as
hell hoped not.

Right now, they couldn’t take a shot without
risking Shay, but Brandt wasn’t prepared to pull Timber out onto
the path. Wolfe was too unstable yet, too willing to kill her
rather than lose her. And he wouldn’t trade her life for Shay’s. He
didn’t do bargains like that.

So, he did everything in his power to save
everyone he could.

“Let’s talk for a minute.”

A snarl ripped out of Wolfe. “Let’s not.”

“This isn’t going to end well, Charles,”
Brandt said, trying to push a semblance of sympathy into his voice.
He wanted to sound like he actually gave a damn. “Let her go, we
can talk. All I need you to do is get out of my territory. I don’t
care what you do elsewhere, but you can’t do it on my watch.”

It was a lie, but one Brandt had spun more
than once. Shifters were used to Shifter Town Enforcement being
rather lax. Most were willing to believe that STE would look the
other way as long as they left, because that’s what Enforcement had
always done before.

“Give me Timber and I’ll go.”

Brandt also didn’t believe that for a second.
“Timber is—”

“Mine!” Wolfe lunged at him, shoving Shay
forward a foot. She staggered, but before Brandt could get his gun
up to take a shot a large black wolf leapt from the brush behind
Wolfe. Wolfe spun, raising the gun just as Nathan’s furry body
slammed into him. They both staggered back, Wolfe trying
desperately to get his gun in position and Nathan struggling to
reach his throat.