The Road to Redemption (47 page)

Swearing, he
strode to the window looking out just in time to see her storming
across the street. She got into a nondescript grey car and drove
off. If the road hadn’t been snow covered, she likely would have
squealed her tires in a declaration of her anger. As it was, the
vehicle fishtailed slightly when she turned the corner.

Sam had left
him.

Stunned at the turn of events, Damien looked
blankly around the room, seeing the bed they’d shared, noting her
knit cap lying forgotten on the ground. Bending over, he picked up
the cap and stared at it. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what
had just happened. They’d been in bed talking about her tattoo and
then…

He tossed the cap down.
Hell, what had she been thinking, springing a question like that on
him and expecting an answer right away?

Grumbling, he
got dressed and headed downstairs, not sure what he’d do but
needing to get out of the room, away from her scent, away from the
memories of last night.

The bar was
empty except for Armand. He was morosely staring into a teacup.
Damien hesitated and then sat down beside the man. Misery loved
company.

“Mind if I
join you?”

Armand pushed
the teapot his way.

Damien looked
at it suspiciously and then shrugged. Why not. He reached over the
bar and snagged a cup and then poured some of the steaming liquid.
A tentative taste had him wanting to spit.

“What is
this?”

“Herbal tea.
Pine needles, some roots and bark. My own recipe.”

Damien looked
at the vile brew. No wonder it tasted like turpentine.

Armand drained
his own cup and poured another before finally shifting his
attention from his drink to the man beside him. “You look sad, my
friend.”

He shrugged.
Sad? Damien hadn’t thought of it that way. Pissed off. Confused.
Lost perhaps…

“The woman who
came to visit you last night, the meeting didn’t go well?”

“It did. For a
while. But this morning… Not so good.” He took another sip of the
tea. It didn’t taste so bad, once you got used to it. Or maybe his
taste buds had died after the first mouthful.

“Ah! The
morning after.” Armand nodded wisely. “Regret often raises its ugly
head when the sun rises. Many of my customers suffer from
this.”

Regret? Did he
regret making love to Sam?

“You should
listen to your inner animal,” Armand added. “Many years ago, I did
not. I let my lady leave. I thought too long and too hard even
though my animal urged me to act.”

“What
happened?”

The bartender
sighed and returned to looking glumly into his cup. “It was too
late.”

Too late.
Damien sipped his drink. Was he thinking too long and too hard?

“If I could do
it again, I would have followed her. Demanded that she stay with
me.”

The bear is
correct,
his wolf decided.
We should follow her. We’ve been
alone too long. It is not the way we are supposed to be.

Damien swirled
the remains of his tea in his cup. Was he feeling guilty for
betraying Beth, or was he afraid to face the future? Hadn’t Beth
pretty much given him her blessing last night? If their positions
had been reversed, would he have wanted Beth to spend the rest of
her life alone?

No.

He’d loved her
too much to wish that fate on her. So it must be fear that was
keeping him glued to his seat. He was afraid to care. Afraid to
risk being hurt again.

His wolf
curled its lip
. Fear should be beneath us. We don’t live our
life cowering like a pup. Perhaps I should take control again and
do what must be done.

The animal
would try it, too. Of that Damien had no doubt. He’d spent enough
years of his life battling the beast inside. The human half might
be in control, but concessions to the wolf were sometimes needed.
Especially if the wolf was right.

“Thanks,
Armand.” Damien set down the cup and got to his feet.

Armand looked
at him out of the corner of his eye and gave an approving nod. “You
are going after her. If you don’t return, I will give your things
to Ryne.”

“Thanks.”
Damien clapped the man on the shoulder. “I hope you find a
replacement for the lady you lost.”

The werebear
gave a small nod. “I am getting tired of waiting. Soon I will
act.”

Damien left
the bar and got into his small rental. He hated cars, but the
winter roads were no place for a motorcycle so he’d left his in
storage before heading north.

It had been at
least half an hour since Sam had left. Thankfully, there was only
one paved road leading into Stump River so it wasn’t hard to know
which way she’d gone. With any luck he’d catch up with her before
she hit a main highway.

The roads were
snow covered, not impassable but they required a judicious use of
the gas pedal and both hands on the steering wheel. About ten
minutes out of town, he caught sight of skid marks veering off the
road into a drift. Only the bumper of the car was visible but he
had an awful suspicion that…

It was
Sam.

Her car was at
a 45 degree angle, half buried in a snowdrift, part of the
undercarriage showing. He eased his car off the road, his heart
pounding with fear. The fates couldn’t do this to him.

As fast as
possible, he clambered through the thigh deep drifts, each step an
effort. An icy crust had formed over the surface and it crunched
and crackled as he pushed his way through. Snow seeped into his
boots, numbing his toes and soaking his clothing.

“Sam? Sam, are
you okay?” He called her name and it echoed across the frozen
wasteland. Only the howling of the winter wind answered him with a
low, lonely sound. His breath came out in puffs of steam, his eyes
watering as the sunlight gleamed off the thousands of sparkling ice
crystals.

He imagined
her unconscious, slumped over the steering wheel, blood dripping
from her head. Was he too late? Was she already…dead?

When he
finally reached the vehicle, he hoisted himself up so he could see
inside, bracing himself for the worst. He pushed the snow from the
window and looked inside.

The car was
empty.

For a moment
he was shocked, then relief seeped in as he saw no sign of blood,
then worried once again as he wondered where she might have gone.
He slid back onto the ground and slowly turned in a circle. Miles
of nothing stretched out on all sides as far as the eye could
see.

Damien tested
the air, trying to pick up her scent. His frozen nostrils strained
to detect anything in the icy air. He began to move in a circular
pattern, constantly widening his search, knowing she had to have
gone somewhere. When he finally caught a trace of her scent, it was
accompanied by the blurred remains of a set of wolf tracks heading
straight down the center of the road.

He cursed.

Hadn’t she
ever heard that you were supposed to stay with your vehicle in
situations like this? What was she planning on doing? Walking all
the way to the next pocket of civilization? Did she even know how
far it was or which way to go? Had she even thought to check the
weather forecast? The temperatures were supposed to drop to near
record lows that night.

Climbing back
in his car, he began to follow her trail. While his wolf might want
to chase her down on foot, it wasn’t a smart move. Sam would be
cold and tired when he found her and the car would provide some
shelter, plus it came with a winter survival kit that included
blankets and packets of food.

Eventually he
spotted a small white wolf trotting down the middle of the road
acting as if it owned the place. As he drove nearer she veered to
the side of the highway, no doubt hearing him approaching and
thinking the random vehicle behind her would just pass by. He
slowed to a crawl, rolled his window down and called out her
name.

“Sam!”

There was
hardly a break in her stride. If it wasn’t for the way her ears
twitched and her chin lifted, he might have even wondered if she’d
heard him. Little spitfire.

He pulled
alongside her. “Sam.”

She ignored
him.

“Sam, talk to
me.”

When she still
didn’t acknowledge him, he gave an exasperated huff, sped ahead,
pulled the car to the side and got out. Standing in the middle of
the road, he faced her.

“Sam, this is
ridiculous. It’s miles to the nearest town. You’ll be lucky to make
it by nightfall and you don’t know the terrain well enough to find
shelter for the night. What if you stumble upon a regular wolf
pack? They won’t be happy to have you invading their
territory.”

The wolf
stopped. It glared at him, looked away and then sneezed not
bothering to hide its disgust that his words made sense. The air
shimmered and Sam stood before him. She didn’t say a word, merely
stalking to the passenger side of his car and getting in. The door
slammed shut after her with sufficient force to make the entire
vehicle rock.

He rolled his
eyes and got in the driver’s seat. Resting his hands on the
steering wheel, he waited for her to speak. When she didn’t
comment, or even deign to look at him, he clenched his jaw and
started to drive.

After about
five minutes of silence she finally gave in. “Where are we
going?”

“Where do you
want to go?”

“Chicago of
course.”

“Good.”

“Why? Can’t
wait to get rid of me?”

“No.” He
paused and then slid a look her way. “That’s where I’m headed,
too.”

She swung her
head around to look at him. He focused on driving, holding back a
pleased grin. Now he had her attention.

“Why are you
going to Chicago?” She asked the question slowly, tentatively.

He gave a one
shoulder shrug. “I hear there’s a Beta position open there.” He
hazarded a glance her way.

Sam studied
him for a moment before replying. “Really?” She resumed staring out
the window. “I heard the position is no longer being offered.”

That was a
shock. Had he screwed up that badly? He clenched the steering wheel
tightly, wondering what to say. Before he could decide, she spoke
again.

“The position
has been upgraded to co-Alpha. Provided the right Lycan
applies.”

The tension
began to ease from him. “The right Lycan?”

“That’s
correct. I’ll be holding interviews…private, personal interviews.
Quite soon as a matter of fact.” Out of the corner of his eye, he
noted how her hands were clenched. “Do you know anyone who would
like to apply?”

“Perhaps.”
Thankfully a side road was right ahead. He pulled onto it and
turned off the engine. “Do you think I might qualify?” Undoing his
seatbelt, he turned to face her. When she didn’t answer, he reached
out, gently touching her chin. “Sugar?”

“Dammit,
Damien!” Abruptly, she turned on him. “What the hell kind of game
are you playing with me? I can’t handle this blowing hot and cold
business any longer. If you’re applying for the position, you had
damned well better mean it.”

“Of course I
mean it! I mean…” He paused, trying to gather his thoughts. “Sam…
I… We’re good together. I feel a connection to you. But a part of
me is afraid. Afraid to lose someone I…care…about again.”

“Everything in
life is a risk, Damien. And just because you’re afraid to admit
that you…care…doesn’t mean the feeling isn’t already in your heart.
That’s what my grandfather has spent his whole life doing.”

“Your
grandfather?”

“Yeah. He
admitted as much to me. Said he’d never dared use the word love
even though that’s what he felt in his heart.” She pulled a face.
“I always knew he cared, but without the words I never knew for
sure.”

“That’s why
you chose that tattoo.”

She nodded. “I
don’t want to be the kind of Alpha he was. He did his best, what he
thought was right, but I want to do even better.”

“You will.” He
stroked her face.

“With you at
my side?”

He sighed
heavily, staring out across the barren land. Could he do it? Did he
really have any choice? Lacing his fingers with Sam’s, he nodded.
“I’ll try.”

A wide smile
broke over her face. Grabbing his shoulders, she kissed him hard.
“Damn well took you long enough. I was thinking I’d have to beat it
out of you.”

He laughed.
“That’s my spitfire. All prim, proper, and ladylike.” He tried to
pull her close, but the console was in the way and he had to make
do with an awkward hug. She returned it but then stiffened in his
arms. He could sense a hint fear coming over her. “What are you
thinking?”

She looked
away. “Nothing.”

He gently
grasped her chin and turned her face towards him. “Show no fear
only works when you’re fighting. In a relationship you have to open
up. Let each other know what you’re thinking.” He gave a rueful
laugh. “I know coming from me that’s a bit like the pot calling the
kettle black, but it’s true.”

Sam compressed
her lips before giving in with a sigh. “A part of me worries about
competing with Beth.”

“There is no
competition.” He brushed her hair from her eyes. “Beth was white
daisies and a quiet fire and you’re—”

She made a
face. “Pizza with extra cheese and a Harley.”

“Totally
different and incomparable, but each good in their own way.” He
kissed her and then tried to tuck her close only to curse the
console again. Instead, he laced their fingers together. “Three
years ago, I was a different person. Beth was what I needed then.
But I’m not that man anymore. I’ve lived hard, experienced things,
done things that have changed me. You’re what I need in my life
now. You’re not Beth and I wouldn’t want you to be. You’re Sam
Harper, a very unique, special woman. And if someone doesn’t like
it, then screw them.”