Wolf from the Past: Salvation Pack, Book 4 (11 page)

“And that would be bad?” Gwen asked. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t always understand the nuances of werewolf culture.” She tapped her chest. “Newbie.”

“I faked my death.”

“Totally understandable,” Anny told her. “You did it to protect yourself.”

Sylvie shook her head. “Not in a pack. To run away from your mate is just about one of the worst crimes there is.”

“But he wasn’t your true mate,” Cherise pointed out.

She absently touched the scar on her right cheek. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Oh, Sylvie.” Anny wrapped her arm around Sylvie’s shoulders. “We didn’t mean to bring back bad memories.”

“It’s not your fault,” she assured the other woman, touched by her kindness. “They’re always there.”

“I’m glad the bastard is dead. What?” Gwen said when Sylvie looked at her. “The man was an abusive murdering prick. He tried to kill my mate and he hurt you.”

“Even with him dead, Pierre will want retribution,” Sylvie told them.

“He’ll want to mate you with another member of his pack as well.” Sylvie wasn’t surprised it was Cherise who understood the situation. She’d been born a werewolf, unlike the other two.

“Well, he can’t have you.” Gwen set her mug down on the counter with a loud bang. “You belong here with us. You do want to stay, don’t you?”

What could Sylvie say to that? She’d never felt so wanted in her entire life. To be with her brother, to have women friends and a pack was all she’d ever wanted.

Not to mention Gator was here too.

No, that had absolutely nothing to do with anything.

She nodded. “I do.” It was almost surprising just how badly she wanted to stay.

“Then it’s settled.” Gwen put her elbows on the counter and rested her chin on her hands. “This is probably breaking all kinds of etiquette but I’ve got to admit, I’m really curious.”

“About what?” Sylvie asked.

“Would you mind showing us what your wolf looks like?” Before Sylvie could fully digest the request, Gwen surprised her again. “I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours.”

Chapter Eleven

“We’ll need to be extra vigilant. We have to assume Pierre knows Sylvie is here.” Jacque pinned all of them with a steely gaze.

Gator agreed with his friend. They were going to have to be extremely careful. There would be more bloodshed before this was done.

“The women have to be told.” Gator wasn’t surprised it was Cole who laid that concern on the table. “I won’t have Cherise put in danger because she isn’t fully aware of the seriousness of the situation.”

Gator wanted to speak up but it wasn’t his place. Sylvie wasn’t his mate. And didn’t that just chap his butt to have to keep his mouth shut.

He leaned against the railing of the front porch of Jacque’s place. Cole was also leaning against the porch rail while Jacque, Louis and Armand were seated in the Adirondack chairs that ranged across the deck.

Gator inhaled the sweet scent of the trees and flowers. The day was already heating up and promised to be another hot one.

“I agree.” Armand propped his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands over his face. “Much as I hate the women to be involved, the fact is they are. They all know what it’s like to be attacked. They’re vulnerable if they don’t know what’s going on.”

“They’re all intelligent women. They already know exactly why we’re all here and what we’re talking about,” Jacque pointed out.

“They don’t know anything for sure. Hell, we don’t know anything for sure,” Louis pointed out. He cradled a mug of coffee in his large hands but wasn’t drinking.

“I know.” Gator had remained silent long enough. He tapped his hand against his chest. “I know here.” He glanced out toward the thick woods. “I felt someone watching. Someone knows Sylvie is here.” He turned back to Louis. “You want to take a chance that it was just some local trespassing?” His wolf crouched low and growled inside him, ready to erupt at the moment’s notice if needed.

Louis shook his head. “
Non
. If you believe our enemies are out there, then they are.”

Gator’s wolf settled down a bit, his hackles lowering, but he didn’t relax his guard. There was something in the air. Gator straightened away from the railing. “I’m going to check on the women.”

Jacque’s gaze snapped toward him. “You hear something?”

He shook his head. “Just restless.”

The alpha narrowed his eyes but nodded. “Cole can fill you in on everything later.”

“I can hear your plans when you tell the women.” It was a not so subtle reminder that the women needed to know everything they discussed.

One corner of Jacque’s mouth kicked up in a grin. “Persistent bugger, aren’t you?”

“It’s part of my charm,” Gator insisted.

Jacque smiled and Louis laughed outright.

Gator raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, that’s what all the women tell me.” He grinned when all he really wanted to do was run. The itch in the back of his neck was growing more irritating. There was something happening that needed his attention. He didn’t feel as though the women were in danger but better to make sure.

Armand chuckled. “Yes, I can tell the women can’t get enough of you.” He turned his head and made an exaggerated motion of looking around. “Where are they exactly?”

“No respect,” he muttered as he leapt over the railing and landed lightly on his feet.

“I respect your cooking skills,” Louis told him.

Gator raised his middle finger and kept on walking. Laughter followed him. As soon as he was out of sight, he picked up his pace. He’d just take a quick look in on the women before he patrolled the immediate area.

Sylvie was surprised by Gwen’s request. She was quickly learning that this group of women said exactly what was on their minds. There was no holding back, no games. She liked that about them.

She hesitated long enough to have Gwen backtracking. The other woman reached out and touched Sylvie’s arm. “I’m sorry. That was probably all kinds of rude. I was just curious to see what your wolf looked like.”

“No. No, it’s not that. I don’t mind. Really.” It was actually quite flattering for the alpha female to take an interest. Not that Gwen acted like the alpha female. She acted like she wasn’t any different from the rest of them.

Sylvie found the dynamics of this pack fascinating.

“Then what is it?” Cherise asked. There was something in the woman’s eyes that made Sylvie believe she hadn’t had an easy life. Plus, she’d been born a werewolf, not a human, and understood pack life and the expectations that came with it.

“I haven’t shifted in a year.” Had it really been that long? Probably longer.

“Why?” Anny asked. She went to the refrigerator and pulled out eggs, butter and milk and set them on the counter next to the bowl. “I haven’t been able to shift for very long. Heck, I thought werewolves were nothing but a fairy tale until about six months ago.” She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and then leaned against the counter. “But I know what I feel inside.” She placed her hand on her chest. “And I know when my wolf wants to run.”

Sylvie really liked Armand’s mate. Anny was thoughtful and intelligent. There was also a genuine goodness about her. She wasn’t asking to be nosy, but because she was concerned. Sylvie could see it and smell it in every word she spoke.

Not surprisingly, it was Cherise that answered the question. “There’s nowhere to run in a crowded city.” Her flat tone told Sylvie that Cherise really did understand. She wondered about the other woman’s story but didn’t feel she knew her well enough to ask. Not yet.

It stunned her that she really wanted to know. She wanted to know all these women better. She’d spent years alone and craved friendship, but it was more than that. She wouldn’t even think about reaching out if she didn’t trust these women. She was more used to being alone than to being part of a pack.

“What about when you were in your apartment?” Gwen asked. “Couldn’t you have shifted then?”

Sylvie shook her head. “Letting my wolf out but not allowing her to run would have been more cruel than not letting her out at all.” She wanted Gwen to understand so she tried to explain as best she could. “The power, the need of the wolf would be great after being restrained for so long.”

“You were afraid you wouldn’t be able to control her.” Gwen raked her fingers through her tousled blonde hair and nodded. “I can see how that would be a problem.”

Anny went back to work dragging measuring cups, spoons and a spatula out of various drawers and lined them up on the counter. “There was nowhere you could go to run? A park?”

Sylvie shook her head. “Can you imagine if someone saw me and called the authorities? That would have been a mess.”

“And drawn attention,” Cherise pointed out.

“Yes.” She rubbed her finger absently over the handle of her mug. “I couldn’t afford to attract attention.”

“How often did you move?” Cherise asked.

“Every few months at first, and then about every six months.”

“Shit, that’s tough.” Gwen eased off her stool and rolled her shoulders. “I can’t imagine having to move that much, can you?” she asked Anny.

Anny shook her head. “You’re talking to the woman who moved home immediately after college. I can’t imagine what it’s like having to pick up every few months, not knowing if you have a job or where you’re going to stay.”

“It hard enough for anyone, harder for a werewolf.” Cherise’s eyes went glassy with unshed tears. “Pack and connection is everything to us.”

“Shit,” Gwen said again. “I didn’t mean to bring up such bad memories for everyone. I’m sorry.” Gwen reached out and wrapped her arms around Cherise. Sylvie envied the women their easy friendship.

Then Gwen released Cherise and turned to her. Before she could react, Sylvie found herself enveloped in a big hug. Gwen was a little taller than she was and her arms were strong. It felt so good to be held this way. Sylvie’s chest grew tight and she blinked several times. She would not cry.

Gwen let go and grinned at Anny. “We’re really going to need that cake.”

Anny laughed and the moment lightened. “I better make enough for two. One for the men and one for us.”

“Don’t worry so much, Sylvie,” Gwen told her. “There’s plenty of time to work things out.”

“But the threat,” Sylvie began. She didn’t want to be the reason Pierre’s pack attacked.

Gwen snorted. “The threat was out there before any of us got here. We’re just the excuse Pierre needed. Whether you came here or not, he was going to attack again. With you here, we have one more on our side. Strength in numbers.”

Sylvie had never thought about it that way before.

“And back to my original question,” Gwen continued. “I’d love to see your wolf. You can let her out here. There’s plenty of room to run. We can go together. You and me.”

Sylvie glanced at Cherise, who looked sad. “I can run with you but I can’t shift.”

She tried her best not to hide her shock but didn’t think she succeeded very well. A werewolf who couldn’t shift was unheard of. It was extremely rare, and Sylvie knew any wolf pack would try to cull the weakness from the group.

Her eyes widened. Cherise had been on the run and hiding just as she had. The other woman really did understand what she’d been through.

Cherise nodded. “You know my former pack didn’t exactly embrace me after that little problem became apparent.”

“I’m so sorry.” It felt inadequate, but what else could she say.

Cherise shrugged. “I’ve accepted it. And I do run with the pack. I run much faster than any human ever could. And all my other werewolf senses are intact.”

“I’ll run with you another time. I have cakes to make.” Anny was already creaming butter and sugar together in the large bowl. She wasn’t using an electric mixer, but with her enhanced strength she didn’t need to. “Gator will be relentless in his teasing if I don’t. Not to mention Armand’s disappointment. The man does have a sweet tooth.”

Gwen put her hands on her hips. “Well?” Even though she was dressed casually, Gwen exuded confidence. Sylvie was surprised at just how casually the other women were dressed. Gwen and Cherise were both wearing cut-off jean shorts paired with tank tops while Anny was clad in a sleeveless top and jeans. Sylvie felt overdressed.

Her wolf really wanted out. The poor creature was howling inside her. She’d been caged up for so long. “I’m not sure I can control her once I let her out. She may take over and run.”

“I’ll go with you if you run. Don’t worry about it.” Gwen headed toward the door and Sylvie followed.

“Is it safe?” Cherise asked.

Gwen nibbled on her bottom lip. “I’d say yes. If it weren’t, one of the men would be outside hanging around.”

“I’ll do my best to rein her in and keep her close to the house,” Sylvie promised. She wanted to shift and run so badly she could taste it. That was something else she’d lost over the years, the freedom to run, the sheer enjoyment that came from embracing her other half.

Anny wiped her hands on the towel. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to see your wolf too.”

“You can undress here and shift before we go outside,” Cherise suggested.

“Good idea.” Gwen turned to her. “That work for you?”

Sylvie nodded, but she suddenly felt self-conscious. Besides the scar on her cheek, there were some on her stomach and back. They’d probably show when she shifted but she hoped her fur would hide them. The few times she had shifted since she’d escaped her mate, she hadn’t been around a mirror or anyone else so she didn’t know for sure.

“You can change in the bedroom if you’d like.” Sylvie could have cried at Anny’s gentle suggestion.

“I’ll do that.” She turned and hurried from the room, desperately trying to fight down the familiar feeling of inadequacy. She entered Gator’s room and inhaled his scent. She could do this. Wanted to do this.

Seymour was lying on Gator’s bed, his long body sprawled out as only a cat can. The animal blinked, decided she wasn’t a threat and closed his eyes again. She shook her head and tried to calm her racing heart.

She could do this. She reminded herself that she’d been brave before and could do it again. The other women were chatting in the kitchen, waiting patiently for her. No one seemed upset, or worse, looked down on her. They were incredibly supportive and understanding.

She kicked off the sneakers and peeled off her socks. Then, taking a deep breath, she quickly stripped off the rest of her clothing before she could change her mind. She tossed them onto the end of the bed. Then she removed the elastic and unwound her braid, letting her hair flow over her shoulders.

It had been so long, but the change came so naturally it brought tears to her eyes. Her wolf was there, ready and waiting. Sylvie felt her body shifting and reforming. Her bones changed shape, becoming shorter and denser. She fell forward, her feet and hand replaced by paws. Fur covered her skin. Her jaw elongated, her teeth sharpened.

Pure joy enveloped her. She wiggled her body, settling into her wolf form. Run. She had to run. She rushed out of the room, sliding slightly on the wood floor. She careened into the kitchen and headed straight for the open door.

Sylvie didn’t even notice Anny and Cherise. All she saw was freedom.

She raced out of the house, onto the deck and down the stairs. The woods waited.

“Hey.”

Sylvie almost ignored the call but managed to pull her wolf back. Her wolf recognized the alpha female even if Sylvie hadn’t. She stumbled to a stop. Her entire body vibrated with barely leashed energy.

“You look so much like your brother,” Gwen told her. “Same black fur and brown eyes. You’re much prettier than he is though,” she added.

Sylvie knew the scar on her right cheek was now clearly visible on her muzzle. Something else she and Armand had in common—scars. Gwen’s eyes flickered to Sylvie’s back and she knew her scars were visible there as well. Shamed, she lowered her head.

“No.” Gwen’s voice cracked with anger. “Don’t you dare be ashamed of those marks. They shame the one who made them. Not you. You’re a survivor, Sylvie, an amazingly strong woman.”

She’d tried to believe that about herself, but hearing someone else say it gave her confidence. She raised her head and released a low growl.