Chapter Four—Wolves #3
Baylor almost smiled. So, even the con-man was a little bit afraid of him. Good. It would keep him on his toes. He wished he had been able to bring his whip. Cracking it over the air might have been the thing to do.
“Not at all,” he said benignly. “But I do want you to stay on the assignment. It won’t do any good to have suspicions aroused if you don’t show up tomorrow.”
“Right. Got you. Oh, and Boss, a hot little number dropped by this afternoon. Said she was a friend of Sara’s, but the look she gave her was anything but friendly. The girl’s name is Morgan. We might be able to use her.”
“Good work.” Baylor hung up the phone and poured a neat Bourbon. Perhaps he’d get to know this Morgan better.
****
Sara made a sandwich later that afternoon and curled up on the sofa with the copies of the manuscript spread in front of her, but she found she couldn’t concentrate on the verses or where a good place would be to start looking. A tawny-haired Scotsman with amber eyes kept intruding on her thoughts.
Could Michael have been right? After all, Lucas had followed her back to the States on the same airplane.
But then, he’d admitted to that. How had he appeared out of nowhere at the auction?
Could he really have an ulterior motive?
What proof did she have that he was as altruistic as he said?
What if he were the one who wanted to wield the power for evil?
And what about Alan Caldwell? It seemed awfully suspicious to her that he would show up right after the manuscript had been purchased.
But truthfully, he had not mentioned the document at all or even shown any sign that he knew it existed.
And his credentials as a freelance writer had checked out.
Maybe she just mistrusted him because he was one of those good-looking jocks who looked smirky when they smiled at women.
She’d had quite her fill of handsome men who thought they were superior.
The last cad had even managed to look affronted that she was upset to find out he had a wife.
“But you like my body,” he’d said. “We make beautiful music together.”
Sara gathered the papers together and stuffed them back into her backpack and then stretched out on the couch. She did some deep breathing and tried to meditate, but always, Lucas hovered in her subconscious. Even now it seemed as though he were in the room with her.
He settled beside her on the sofa, his thigh pressing against her hip as he bent over her, one hand lightly cupping her face while the fingers of the other slowly stroked downward from her shoulder to her breast, flicking the nipple lightly.
It hardened immediately and Sara instinctively thrust her chest out, letting the silk of her blouse draw tight against the other one, creating friction that fueled her need.
Lucas laughed softly and mouthed the bud gently through the material, the heat of his breath spreading flames deep into her belly.
Sara groaned and then his mouth was on hers, claiming her in a way that was neither soft nor gentle. He slanted his lips across hers, hot and demanding as his tongue plundered her mouth, thrusting deeper as his body pressed against her, his erection prodding her…
With a gasp, her eyes flew open. By the Goddess, what was he doing to her? How could her body want him so badly—had she not learned her lesson about charming men?—when she didn’t even know if she could trust him? Talk about sleeping with the enemy…
“I must have been more tired than I thought,” she muttered as she got up to turn on a lamp.
Outside, the sun had set, leaving streaks of pink and violet and burnt gold—the color of Lucas’ hair, her mind mischievously reminded her—across the western sky.
In the distance she could hear coyotes singing.
Or at least, she had always thought of it as song.
She was probably one of the few native Texans who liked coyotes.
Sara took the papers out again and moved closer to the lamp. They had already established the Spear’s element was air and the quarter for it was east, which was backed up by “the dawn’s gate” thing. But roses climbing to heaven? Did the writer mean on a trellis? Or along a wall?
A wolf howled suddenly, so close and clear that Sara jumped, scattering papers across the floor.
It sounded like it was at the front door, certainly not farther than the yard.
She glanced uneasily at the open windows.
Wolves normally avoided humans and she’d never heard of one attacking a building…
Still, it might be good to close the windows.
She moved toward the one near the front door.
Twilight lingered—maybe she could get a look at the area.
She wasn’t prepared for the crash as the animal leaped through the fluttering curtains near the kitchen. Its fangs were bared, its ears flat and its eyes feral. It stopped and shook itself and then sighted her. With a low menacing growl it began to stalk toward her.
For a split second, Sara stood paralyzed, thinking oddly that this must be how a deer felt caught in the headlights.
Then instinct took over. Her hand felt for the knob of the door.
Goddess, don’t make me have to take a step…
Wildly, she tried to remember…was she supposed to stare the animal down or was she supposed to avoid challenging him?
It didn’t really matter. With the wolf’s lip curled, those deadly fangs were exposed. She found she couldn’t look away.
She groped frantically. The animal was circling now, closing in. How many seconds did she have before he’d make that final leap?
Her hand struck metal. She hardly allowed herself a breath of relief as she turned the knob and swung the door open. The wolf’s head snapped up, scenting the air, momentarily distracted from its prey.
Sara took advantage of the moment and ran out the door, pulling it shut behind her as the wolf’s heavy body landed solidly against it.
She heard its howl of rage and sprinted toward her car, praying she had left it unlocked.
She could hear the wolf scratching at the wood as it pulled itself up toward the kitchen window.
Her hand trembled as she reached the car and gave the handle a yank. It didn’t budge.
Fighting back rising panic, she tried to think. Her keys were in her purse. Her purse was in the cabin. The wolf was nearly outside, but she doubted she could get back inside before he spotted her. And she didn’t feel like standing on the front porch posing as his next meal.
Trees. Wolves didn’t climb trees. The mesquite were probably too low to offer protection, but there were scrub oaks not far. She started to run and then skidded to a stop not five feet from her car.
Another wolf stood near some sage. It was massive, easily the size of a wolfhound—Sara felt a bubble of hysteria rising at the irony of conjuring up a dog bred to hunt wolves—but much bulkier.
Its thick, shiny fur was so pale a brown it seemed blond, and looked almost groomed.
Another bubble of hysteria rose. What was she going to think of next? Petting him?
She forced a deep breath. At least this one wasn’t growling at her. In fact, he was not menacing at all. His ears were pricked forward, his nose up, his golden eyes trained on something behind her.
The tiny hairs on her arms rose. She felt, rather than heard, the first wolf approaching, silently this time.
Almost frantically, she tried to center herself.
If she could stay calm and draw in energy, she might be able to create an astral shield.
Animals could sense well on the astral plane.
But she had to be in control of her own emotions to do it.
The wolf behind her snarled and Sara would never be too sure of what happened next. The pale wolf brushed past her, knocking her to the ground as it attacked the first wolf. Sara first rolled out of the way of snapping jaws and sharp fangs as the animals fought, and then she ran for the cabin.
When she reached the door she heard a whimper. She glanced around as she opened the door and nearly gaped. The wolf who had tried attacking her was limping away, head drooping, tail between its legs in defeat. The huge lobo stood in the middle of the yard watching her.
“You really are beautiful,” she said softly and then wondered if she’d gone totally insane to be talking to an animal that could kill her if she didn’t get inside.
The wolf’s amber eyes blinked once and then his tongue lolled out of his mouth as he panted slightly before he turned and trotted away as well.
To Sara, it looked like the lobo was grinning. She shook her head as she went inside and secured the door. Grinning wolves. She needed sleep. But not before she knew every window was closed.
****
The lobo loped along the road, trying to pick up Baylor’s scent. It lingered in the air and he followed it to where the rubber of car tires overcame it. The man was gone. At least for now.
Lucas felt the Shift begin, his muscles beginning to compact and become tighter, even as his torso lifted and his back legs reshaped into human thighs. The bones of his skull widened and the lupine nose shortened. He reached his bundle of clothes just as the transformation was complete.
Lucas pulled the polo shirt over his head and tucked it inside his jeans. His adrenaline was still pumping from the fight with the other wolf, but he knew the crash would soon come. It always did, and it left him vulnerable.