To Tempt the Wolf hotw-3 Read online

  "Yes, sir. I'll be back."

  "Not before tomorrow. And come to the front door of the house, only if you get your dad's okay."

  Ashton vigorously nodded and waited for Hunter to move out of his way since he had his back wedged up against the pine tree.

  "Be back tomorrow," Ashton promised.

  Hunter shook his head and stalked off in the direction he smelled the gray's scent. The stalker was back and had probably listened to their whole blasted conversation. Hunter should have thrown Ashton over the cliff, if for nothing better than to prove to the gray he wasn't a damn pushover.

  The doorbell rang and Tessa looked at Rourke, both of them standing in front of the fire, rubbing their hands, trying to stay warm. Tessa didn't think the stalker would come to the front door. Maybe the sheriff had returned? Or perhaps he had sent some of his minions to rough Hunter up a little. But in front of witnesses? Probably not.

  She headed for the front door, but Rourke bolted in front of her and grabbed her arms, his gray eyes wild. "What if it's him--the stalker?"

  "What if it isn't?"

  "I'll check." Rourke released her, hurried to the door, and peeked out through the peephole. "No one there."

  Before she could tell him not to open the door, he unlocked it and swung it wide. "Holy crap!"

  Rourke jumped away and tried to shut the door, but something knocked him flat on his back. Tessa stared at the large, pale gray wolf as he stood next to Rourke lying unresponsive on the floor. The wolf turned his attention from Rourke to Tessa, his amber eyes feral. In disbelief, she stood frozen in place. He... he was the same one who lunged for her in California?

  Couldn't be.

  Heart racing, she dashed for the fireplace and grabbed the cast-iron tongs. The wolf leapt halfway across the living room, barely missing the coffee table, and landed only feet from her. She swung the tongs at the animal's head, connecting with his nose in a loud whap, and the tongs flew from her grasp. He yelped and shook his muzzle.

  She dove down the hall and reached her brother's room, the blood pounding so hard in her ears she couldn't hear the wolf following. But as soon as she grabbed the door and tried to slam it shut, the wolf lunged. Like a replay from the incident in the woods in California, the animal snarled and snapped, only this time he blocked her from shutting the door.

  "Tessa!" Hunter yelled from the living room.

  "I'm in here, Hunter! Watch out for the wolf!" Except she was the one still fighting with the wild beast, his paws against the door, his teeth snapping at her.

  "I'll take care of it."

  The wolf turned its head and she knew he would attack Hunter next.

  "Stay there. Don't come out until I holler it's all clear," he shouted.

  She slammed the door closed. "Hunter, be careful! The wolf's probably rabid."

  What if it bit Hunter? And what about poor Rourke?

  Furniture crashed. Her heart jumped. Growls sounded. She raced through Michael's room, searching for a weapon.

  More crashing noises. More growling.

  "Hunter?"

  Hunter tore off the field jacket and then kicked off the sneakers as the wolf slinked around the sofa, snarling at him. Thinking to kill Hunter as a human? It would be easier for him. Hunter jerked off the sweats and hurried to shapeshift. The gray was dead meat. Rourke was out cold, thankfully, and Tessa couldn't see Hunter's new look, standing as a wolf, waiting for the stalker's approach. He just hoped to god she stayed put, but he didn't trust her one bit.

  The lupus garou skirted around the overturned table, the brass lamp on the floor, the bulb shattered. He inched forward, slowly, cautiously, his tail straightened, his eyes focused on every movement Hunter made, from the twitch in Hunter's ears to the tautness of his tail. The gray's nose was bleeding and Hunter made the connection with the bloodied fireplace tongs. Tessa. He was certain Rourke hadn't used the tongs on the gray and then fallen by the door.

  Had the stalker listened to Hunter's conversation with Ashton before he approached the house? Attempting to judge Hunter's strengths and weaknesses? Hunter hadn't thought he'd had much in the line of weaknesses when it came to human dealings. Then again, maybe he didn't usually come into contact with them. He couldn't recall.

  Hunter surveyed the furniture in the way, hampering their ability to fight well. He needed to get the wolf out of doors, away from the humans.

  The wolf snarled and then charged. Hunter swiftly retaliated. Both growled fiercely and struck with such force, neither made any headway. They dropped back to their pads and separated.

  Hunter hoped Tessa didn't hear all the noise they were making, or she would be trying to figure out why there were now two wolves, but the instinct was so inborn, he couldn't stop it. Growling was like a war yell for a fighter in battle--a need to frighten the enemy into submission or inaction, and he would use every means necessary to eliminate the threat.

  The gray was an equal match in size and agility. In his wolf way of thinking, Hunter was glad he had a worthy advisory, which would make it that much sweeter when he destroyed him. The two clashed again, their powerful jaws snapping, their teeth connecting. Hunter tasted both his blood and the gray's.

  They landed on their paws, their chests heaving. They truly were matched. But Hunter couldn't work him toward the door. The lupus garou probably wanted to stay near the woman he intended to claim.

  The gray dove in again, biting at Hunter's neck.

  Hunter tore the gray's cheek, exposing the muscle. He yelped, retreated, waited. Hunter charged him, grabbed for his throat, but the lupus garou turned, and Hunter bit him in the flank instead. Another yelp.

  Rourke groaned.

  The distraction caught Hunter off guard, and the wolf went for Hunter's throat again. Hunter shifted the weight of his body to avoid the wolf's bite and ran into the damned leather footstool. The stalker's teeth sank into his shoulder. Pain radiated through the wound. Hunter growled.

  Rourke moaned.

  The wolf glanced at him as he began to stir, and then the stalker leapt toward the door. With another bound, he was outside.

  His shoulder bleeding and hurting like hell, Hunter bolted after him. This ended, tonight.

  Rourke weakly hollered, "Tessa? Tessa?"

  Her nerves wired, she opened Michael's bedroom door and peeked out. No more growling. "Hunter?"

  No reply.

  Irritated she couldn't find a weapon in Michael's bedroom for protection, she called out, "Rourke, are you all right?"

  No answer.

  Her spine tingling with apprehension and feeling vulnerable without a weapon in hand, she crept down the hall toward the living room.

  The place was deadly quiet except for the wind blowing through the open door. She feared the worst-- Hunter was dead or unconscious and the wolf was waiting for her. The adrenaline in her system was running high, her heart pounding hard. If she could get to the fireplace tongs or the poker...

  She peered into the living room. No sign of the wolf. Both brass lamps had crashed to the floor. Blood was spattered throughout. Tan, pale, and darker gray fur clung to the edges of the couches and love seat. Rourke had again passed out by the front door. The clothes Hunter had been wearing were strewn all over the place.

  She gasped, her hand to her mouth, her eyes tearing up. The wolf must have killed Hunter and dragged his body off. But what if he hadn't? Then again, what if the wolf came back? She grabbed the fireplace poker and rushed to the door. Except for drops of fresh blood on the porch, she didn't see anything in the blowing snow.

  "Hunter!" she screamed. If she'd had a gun, she would have gone after the wolf and shot it.

  Rourke groaned, and she quickly closed and locked the front door. "Rourke, Rourke, wake up. I... I think the wolf killed Hunter. But if it didn't..." She wiped tears from her cheeks. "Rourke! Wake up! We need to save Hunter."

  The gray was racing through the woods as fast as he could while Hunter kept track of him in the blowing snow. Where th
e hell was he fleeing to? Maybe a getaway vehicle. He had the tenacity of an alpha. Yet some of his posturing, like escaping through the forest, indicated he was more of a beta. It didn't matter what he was because the gray served as a threat to Tessa either way.

  For three miles, Hunter chased the lupus garou, the icy air whipping across his open wound, making it burn like the devil. Stop and fight like a wolf, damn you!

  Another two miles after that. At least Tessa and Rourke were safe now that Hunter had the gray on the run. Hopefully, Rourke had only suffered a bump on the head and nothing more serious.

  The wolf suddenly slowed. Tiring? Weak? He was bleeding, too, leaving a trail of blood in the fresh snow. But he didn't smell like he was afraid, which confused the issue. Maybe he was mad. Some lupus garou were crazy, just like their human counterparts.

  Another smell--another wolf. No two. Damn it, Hunter was in a pack's territory. Something seemed familiar. He glanced at the cliffs. One blackened pine stood naked in the snow at the edge of the outcropping of rocks. Oh hell. Here's where he was thrown from the cliff.

  He smelled the air. They were the three who'd fought him. That's how they had gotten the best of him the last time. But why had they attacked him?

  Which made him wonder if he had tried to take over the pack, or had targeted one of their females as his own. Yet since this one wanted Tessa, had they thought Hunter would discover her and want her also? No matter how he tried, he couldn't remember.

  One of the males moved around to his right flank, the other behind him, while the one he had already fought stayed where he was, panting, dog tired. Hunter almost felt the same way, but fresh adrenaline surged through his veins again, preparing him for the fight. He imagined the injured wolf was feeling complacent now that his buddies were here to bail him out.

  He had a whiter mask on the underside, except for the blood caked on his nose and cheek. The one to Hunter's right was a darker gray. The one behind him was a little heavier, but they all had a similar scent, way of moving, overall look. He guessed they were brothers, triplets. Packs protected their members, but family could be even more ferocious in taking care of their own.

  His tail stiff like a flag of warning, Hunter kept his eye on the stalker, but listened with regard to the other two. This time someone else, preferably three someone elses if he could manage, would be taking a dive into the ocean, over the cliff side. And then he would make sure Tessa didn't return to her beach for a good while afterward. No sense in her dragging home any more wounded, naked lupus garou males. Or finding their remains if they didn't survive.

  The wolf behind him moved forward, his pads crunching on the upper crust of snow. The one on the right stepped toward Hunter, trying to box him in. Hunter didn't budge. He might as well put some of that supposed Navy SEAL training to use. At least if nothing else, he wouldn't be pushed toward the edge of the rocks. And he knew just who to target this time. The weakest link. He dove after the stalker.

  For an instant, the wolf's ears flattened. Hunter smiled inwardly. The stalker was afraid of him. That's why he brought Hunter here. To get his brothers to back him up. He probably thought he could take Hunter down initially because of the way he was so "humanized."

  The wolf fled. Hunter whipped around so suddenly, he caught the wolf chasing him off-guard. Hunter immediately lunged at him and bit the gray's snout. He yelped and dove away. The remaining wolf attacked. Hunter aimed low at his front right leg. With a snap, he brought the wolf down. The wolf howled. Hunter again turned, prepared to take on the other, but he and the stalker had disappeared into the blinding snow like a couple of gray wraiths. Calling for reinforcements? Hunter knew his limits. He couldn't fight a whole pack of grays.

  The wolf with the broken leg lay panting on his side. Hunter knew he should kill him. But he still couldn't remember why they had thrown him from the cliff. Maybe he had been the one in the wrong. Not concerning Tessa though. No matter what, the stalker had no right to claim a human, and Hunter wasn't going to allow it.

  He growled at the injured wolf. The gray closed his eyes in submission. Probably readying himself for the killing blow. Hunter glanced back in the direction of Tessa's house. What if the other two wolves went back for her?

  Hell. He dashed back the way he had come, mile after mile. A quarter of a mile from the house, he heard Tessa calling, "Hunter!" Her voice was filled with tears.

  Crap. Was Rourke with her? She wasn't supposed to leave the house. Somehow, he had to return to the place, get dressed, and... No, he couldn't risk her being out here in the event the other lupus garous were coming for her.

  With the pine trees still shielding him, Hunter shape-shifted into his human form. He'd suffer frostbite for sure. If Tessa and Rourke had just stayed in the house, he could have gotten much closer before he'd had to change.

  Racing into their line of view, he found Rourke wielding the fireplace poker and Tessa ready to swing the bloody fireplace tongs.

  "Ohmigod, Hunter." Tessa's gaze shifted from his face to his bloody shoulder as she rushed forward. "Ohmigod."

  He dashed toward her and grabbed her hand, pulling her back toward the house. "You shouldn't be out here. I told you to keep her in the house, Rourke. Didn't I?" The threat in his voice was real, but Rourke was smiling. Probably because of Hunter's state of undress.

  So much for his ferocious image.

  "I kept telling Tessa we would find you in pretty good shape." Rourke threw his parka over Hunter's shoulders. "I told you he'd have wrung the wolves' necks and would bring their tails home as souvenirs."

  Now that was a barbaric notion. Tessa wrapped her arm around Hunter's waist as they hurried to the back porch. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she didn't say anything more.

  Rourke wouldn't shut up and handed Hunter Tessa's ski cap. "Sorry. We didn't think of bringing any of your clothes. We should have thought of it, but all we had in mind was attacking the wolves that had dragged you off, and the best weapons for the job. But I kept telling Tessa you would be all right. That we'd find you alive."

  "None of this is to be reported to the newspaper," Hunter warned.

  "We have an obligation to warn folks that wild wolves have taken up residence in the woods here. We can't allow them to kill people."

  Tessa was shaking so hard when they reached the back porch, she dropped the keys. Rourke retrieved them and unlocked the door.

  "No reporting any of this." Hunter used his most threatening voice as they walked into the living room, his arm tight around Tessa.

  Rourke stared at him. Tessa finally pulled away from Hunter and hurried down the hall.

  He handed Rourke his parka and slipped the sweat-pants back on.

  "You can't mean it, Hunter. What if one attacked Tessa? It would have, too, if you hadn't come and saved us."

  "It wasn't a wolf. All right, Rourke? Just drop it."

  Tessa returned to the living room with rubbing alcohol and bandages. "It was too a wolf." Her voice was shaky and her body slightly trembled.

  When she applied the alcohol to the wound, Hunter clenched his teeth. Hell, he hadn't hurt this much since the time he was wounded in the Mekong Delta. Again, a distant memory, but nothing else came to mind except the excruciating agony he was in.

  Her gaze caught his. "I'm sorry." Her skin was as white as the gauze in her hands and her eyes glistened with tears.

  "It's no big deal," he said between gritted teeth. He sure as hell didn't want her to worry that he was dying when he would heal within a few days and be as good as new.

  She set the bottle of alcohol down and applied the gauze to his shoulder. "I saw it, Hunter. If it wasn't a wolf, what was it?"

  "A wild dog that looked like a wolf."

  "We still have to report it. A wild animal that attacks humans has to be destroyed," Rourke said.

  Tessa taped the gauze to Hunter's shoulder and shook her head. "It was a wolf. I have a photo of one that looks exactly like him. And not only that, but he had almo
nd-shaped eyes. Dogs have rounded eyes."

  He stared at her for a minute, then recalled all the books she had on wolves. Hell, now what? Hunter collapsed on the sofa, the adrenaline fading and weariness settling in. He wanted to tell them he had destroyed the animal, but he couldn't because the stalker would undoubtedly return, maybe this time with his two buddies once everyone had healed sufficiently. Hunter didn't want Tessa and Rourke believing they were perfectly safe. But he didn't want to create a mad scene of hunters shooting every wolf throughout Oregon either. And they probably would, even though wolves were a protected species. They couldn't kill the lupus garou that way, but they could kill the real wolves, and for wolves and lupus garous it would be one long nightmare.

  "Can I see the picture?"

  She nodded and headed back down the hall.

  Hunter ran his hand through his damp hair. "Listen, Rourke, I'm going to ask you for a big favor on this. I know what I'm doing. Believe me. I'll destroy the wolf--"

  "I thought I heard two of them fighting in the house," Tessa said, returning with the printout of the photo.

  "Two fought one another. So you see if we announce this, hunters from every crack and crevice in the state will be here shooting everything that moves. Everything. You know how it goes. Then even Tessa wouldn't be safe getting a load of firewood from the beach."

  "She's got you and me for that now," Rourke said, as if he were staying for the long haul.

  Actually, it probably was a good idea--for the time being.

  Hunter considered the photo while Tessa hurried back down the hall. It was the gray all right. But the trees weren't correct. A hint of memory eluded him. He recognized the forest. Not here, but where?

  Rourke whispered, "Did you kill it already? I could see you didn't want to say in front of Tessa."

  Before Hunter could reply, she returned and frowned at them. He figured she heard Rourke's loud whisper.

  She carried a man's flannel shirt and a pair of big fuzzy sock slippers. Kneeling at Hunter's feet, she pulled on one of the slippers, and then the other. He hadn't realized how icy his feet were until she warmed them. But what heated him even more were her tender ministrations and thoughts of returning to bed with her and snuggling.