Wolf Fever
Page 9

 Terry Spear

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“Like you said, you couldn’t detect his smell. Too many of our kind are beginning to use hunter scents to prevent detection. Which can mean only one thing— he’s up to no good.”
“Not like you, eh?”
Ryan smiled broadly and straightened a bit. “Finding the bad guys is my business, whether they’re cheating on their spouses—humans mainly, of course—or perpetuating insurance fraud or some other socially unacceptable deed. It’s my job to expose them. I do happen to be one of the good guys.”
“Come on, McKinley. Don’t tell me you’re not intrigued by the unmated red. She’s unique, interesting, and easy on the eyes. But you’ll never score with her if you don’t believe in her abilities.”
She was a hell of a lot more than easy on the eyes, and Ryan couldn’t understand why Jake wasn’t interested in having her for a mate. Unless he didn’t want to deal with a woman who supposedly had second sight.
“So tell me the truth. What’s keeping you from pursuing her?” Ryan asked.
Jake gave a sly smile.
What the hell did that mean?
Chapter 5
ON THE PLAYING FIELD, ANOTHER BRUISER OF A GUY ON Darien’s team lunged after Carol with a wicked gleam in his eye as she again tried for Darien’s tag. Perseverance had always been a way of life for her. Target what you want, and get it. Although getting a job at the hospital meant becoming a werewolf first, which wasn’t quite what she’d thought she’d have to go through.
Sam was on his feet, intent on tackling the new threat to her, when Silva distracted him. Smiling, dodging around him, she tried to grab Sam’s ribbon. The bartender grinned at her, but instead of attempting to get her ribbon, he mounted a full frontal assault and tackled Silva in a sexy way. Pinning her to the ground with his body, he nestled between her legs. Forget the tags. Their lips locked together, and they were busy with a new form of entertainment.
Carol sighed. One guard down. And what a way to go.
She lunged for Darien’s ribbon. Her fingers latched onto the slip of silk. She tugged, sheer elation boosting her mood, and pulled the tag free.
In the same instant, Darien jerked Lelandi’s ribbon off and tucked it into his belt with a satisfied wink at Lelandi, who smiled back at him and shook her head.
The whole crowd of players—and the older lupus garous cheering on the sidelines—ceased speaking and laughing and stood in shocked silence.
Carol grinned and, in triumph, raised Darien’s tag, which fluttered in the breeze like a proud flag of honor. “Got one!”
But not just anyone’s.
Darien gave her a small smile, looking pleased instead of annoyed that she’d managed to swipe his ribbon. That minor acknowledgment made her feel as though she was standing ten stories high. That, for an instant, he truly accepted her. And that meant everyone else would also. She hoped.
Everyone began clapping and cheering.
Darien fondly patted Lelandi’s ribbon in his belt, but then without warning, he dodged after Jake’s ribbon first. His brother, already eyeing him warily, bolted away from him in time, and Darien headed for Tom with an evil glint in his eye, aggressively, no holds barred this time. Carol figured he was leaving her for the bachelor males instead of retaliating and taking her tag.
She went back to protecting her tail and targeting the guys who were out to get her, never having had so much fun in her life.
Six tags so far, and…
Bang! She was hit, shoved onto her back, taken down by…the red-and-white-striped fiend from her vision. Mervin, the barber?
He smelled of heavy hair tonics and sweat. She moaned, just thinking what being mated to him would be like. He was the only man in town who wore a costume year-round—a barber quartet type of affair, complete with bowtie, red-and-white-striped sports coat, and dark pants, even for playing a rough-and-tumble game such as this. At some time or another during the game, he’d lost his white straw hat.
At least while he had her pinned on her back, he couldn’t get to her tail. But then he wasn’t trying very hard to get it either, she belatedly realized. Keeping her pinned beneath him, he seemed to be enjoying another sport just fine.
She squirmed, trying to unsettle him, but her actions only brought a smile to Mervin’s thin lips. His pale yellow eyes smiled just as brightly. Great.
Without warning, Mervin flew aside, his eyes wide and mouth gaping. Her rescuer, Ryan McKinley, crouched next to her and rested his hand lightly on her shoulder, his brows knit in a deep frown, his eyes dark as a stormy night.
“Are you okay?”
The entire playing field grew silent again, and her heart pounded in panic.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “They’ve been looking for you.”
“Carol’s fine,” Darien said, his voice terse as he drew close.
Darien offered his hand to help her to stand. She grabbed Ryan’s knee instead and started to help herself up. Ryan quickly seized her hand and pulled her to her feet, keeping her close by his side in a protective mode, the heat of his body warming hers, his fingers still holding onto hers in a possessive way.
But she was more concerned about protecting him!
Darien gave Ryan a dark look, but not in the least bit cowed, Ryan squeezed Carol’s hand reassuringly and tossed a sly smile to Darien. “Good game.”
Lelandi quickly stepped forward and waved a handful of ribbons. “Blue team won!”
Still, everyone waited for Darien to respond, either concerning the game or Ryan, or both. Darien looked at one of his men, who lifted their team’s captured ties, minus Lelandi’s that Darien still had tucked proudly in his belt. His team was definitely short a few.
Darien gave Lelandi an evil smile. “Lelandi’s team won. Let’s eat!” He wrapped his arm around her waist, offered Ryan a warning look, and then nodded to Tom and headed for the house.
Carol breathed a tentative sigh of relief. As uptight as everyone was when waiting to see how their pack leader dealt with issues, she couldn’t shake loose of the tension tightening her chest. She figured that the pressure wouldn’t go away until Ryan left the area for good.
Taking his brother’s cue, Tom approached Ryan. “What are you doing here?”
“Don’t any of you talk to each other?” Ryan moved his hand to Carol’s back and stroked it once in a reassuring way. “I told Jake I wished to speak to Carol about a matter concerning the murder investigation.”
Tom’s eyes widened a little. “Why? The case was solved. All guilty parties were held accountable.”
“Just a couple of questions concerning… investigative techniques.”
Carol’s heart sank. That was what this was all about? Or was Ryan just saying so as a cover? He still stood next to her in protective wolf mode, their bodies lightly touching, the heat curling through her. He sure seemed to want something more of her than to question her.
“Why were you here last night, skulking around?” Tom asked.
Ryan didn’t say anything, which made Carol wonder again if he had an agenda he didn’t wish to discuss with anyone else.
Tom cocked his head to the side, gave Ryan a look that said he didn’t trust him, and then gave a short nod. “All right, ask your questions of her.”
“Privately.”
Frowning, Tom hesitated. Then he motioned to the side of the house. “Over there. That’s as private as it’s going to get.”
People were milling about, most likely interested in what Tom was going to do to Ryan, or what Ryan had in mind to do with Carol. Most of the onlookers were bachelor males, including one particularly sore-looking barber, who was brushing at yellow-green grass stains on his red-and-white-striped coat.
Ryan took Carol’s arm and led her to the side of the house. His touch was gentle, caring, and protective, and every time he got close, a spark of interest seemed to ignite between them. She looked up at him, expecting… well, hoping he wanted to see more of her. Date her or court her, or whatever werewolves did before they decided they were the right ones for each other and mated for a lifetime. Not that she was ready for a long-term commitment, but a couple of dates would be nice, just to see if he was even her type.
“Carol…” Ryan released her arm and shoved his hands in his pockets, his head bent to speak more privately with her. “Are you sure you didn’t overhear conversations, which is how you came to the conclusions you did and were able to solve the case?”
Instantly, he stoked her ire. She folded her arms and narrowed her eyes at him. So he truly wasn’t interested in her. “What are you inferring?”
He cleared his throat. “Darien and his brothers wouldn’t let me speak with you concerning this matter when I was here before, first, because you had been injured so, and after that…” Ryan shrugged. “They were being protective, I suppose. But after giving your situation further thought—”
“For five months?” Her voice was rife with annoyance, yet she wondered why he’d truly thought about it for that long. Just a rabid need to learn the truth? Or was there more to the story than he was letting on?
Calmly, he ignored her outburst and continued. “Just that you may seem to have psychic powers or a sixth sense or something, but in truth…” He let his words fade, allowing her to draw her own conclusions, his gaze studying her eyes, observing her reaction. Like a P.I. and former cop would. Most likely jaded. Believing the worst in anyone they thought might have something to hide.
In truth, what did he believe?
She opened her mouth to speak but then clamped her lips shut. Hell, ever since her seventh birthday, after nearly drowning in a lake—well, technically she had drowned in the lake, been declared dead, and then revived, she’d had these unwelcome visions She’d thought everyone else did, too, until she mentioned one to her mother.
She still remembered that day as if it were yesterday. She’d explained how she’d seen a man driving a pickup truck down the street from where they lived and running over one of her classmates. Except that the accident didn’t happen until two days later. And the boy died. Night terrors followed, waking her, and she’d try to catch her breath, tears streaking down her cheeks, her pillow soggy.