Terry Spear’s Wolf Bundle (64 page)

“That’s what he told me to call him.”

So, Uncle Basil had a relationship with the human female after all. Which wasn’t like him.

“Well, his
real
niece and nephew have taken up residence, and Uncle Basil has moved to Florida. The rules are different now. Find somewhere else to take your pictures.
Don’t
come here again.”

The woman glanced at the house.
Looking to rescue Uncle Basil? Or maybe she hoped he’d come out and save her from Hunter’s sister?

Facing Meara, she offered her gloved hand. “I’m Tessa Anderson, a professional photographer. I live down the coast.”

Meara folded her arms. “Then you must have plenty of photo ops on your
own
land.”

Tessa stiffened and Hunter could see now the woman wasn’t going to be easily persuaded. Her jaw tightened and her eyes flickered with inflexible resolve.

“Every area along the seacoast is different. And it changes as the tides pummel the coastline. It varies with the seasons also.” Tessa tilted her head to the side. “Uncle Basil never said anything about moving. He isn’t ill, is he?”

Hunter shook his head. He admired tenacious
lupus garou
women, but a human female like that could cause real problems. So
why
was he checking out her package again—the way her turtleneck caressed her breasts, the camera strap pressing between the sensuous mounds,
outlining them further, and lower to the jeans accentuating her long, curvy legs.

Lifting his nose, he took a deep breath. Because of the shifting breeze, despite the smell of pines and the sea air overwhelming all else, he caught a whiff of the woman’s scent—of peaches and…tequila and margarita mix?

His eyes widened a bit as he smelled something else, something that generated an age-old need—a desire so strong that it could only mean her pheromones were triggering his craving.
What the hell? She wasn’t a
lupus garou
—didn’t have their distinctive scent, yet sexually, she served every bit as much a magnet for a male
lupus garou
.

His gaze fastened on her eyes, now narrowed a little, sharp and full of mistrust.

“Did he always keep you posted on his plans?” Meara asked Tessa, being her usual snarky self.

“I was supposed to have dinner with him.” Standing taller, Tessa considered the house again. “Do you have a number where I can reach him? Or an address?”

Dinner?
Had Uncle Basil forgotten? Or conveniently avoided it, which would explain his warning—although cryptic—about Tessa before he left. Hunter let out his breath in exasperation.

Meara snorted. “Leave, now, or I’ll call the sheriff. Don’t come back here.”

“It was nice to meet you, too.” Tessa glanced once more at the house as if to say she wouldn’t be thwarted from seeing Uncle Basil. Her breath mixed with the cold air in a puff of smoke, she lifted her chin a little, and then whipped around, and headed back into the woods.

The urge to hunt the minx filled Hunter with a craving so strong, he had to remind himself she was a threat to their existence. If she’d been a
lupus garou
, that would be a different story. He would have shown just
how
interested he was and worn her down until she felt the same for him, if she didn’t automatically. But a human like her was nothing more than tempting forbidden fruit—one taste would never be enough. Best to buy her out and remove the menace from the area.

Meara stalked into the house, saw Hunter at the open window, and gave a half smile. Then she frowned. “Don’t you go getting friendly with that woman, too. Jeesh. I heard you and Uncle Basil talking about her. You know, the lower your voices go, the more I listen in.” She shook her head. “No wonder Uncle Basil couldn’t get rid of her. Sweet and innocent. Miss Red Riding Hood in a white parka.” She raised a brow. “And by the way, as petite as she is, her boobs are silicone—have to be."

No way was the woman anything but the real thing, every bit of her, and he wanted to prove to himself they were in the worst way. Hunter shut the window. “You made Tessa Anderson suspicious. She thinks we’ve buried Uncle Basil in the backyard. So now
I’ll
have to take care of it.” And he would, starting tonight.

“
Hmpf.
What about the rest of our pack?” Her spine stiff, Meara stirred the spinach heating on the stove and refused to look at him.

“The seven who took off for Portland will return when they get tired of city life.”

“So they moved to greener pastures, and we’re stuck in Timbuktu?” Meara’s amber eyes flashed with irritation, her lips turned down.

“We’ll rent only to
lupus garous,
like Uncle Basil did. We’ll entice eligible alpha males to visit, and you’ll put them under your spell.” He failed to understand how she couldn’t see the beauty of the area. If she would just take a run with him in the woods, work out some of her frustration, she would feel better. “We’re not a city pack. The rest will tire of it before long.”

“And then?” She yanked out her chair and dropped into it, fixing him with another chilling look.

“They can join us here. Plenty of game for hunting on moonlit nights. Oregon has laws to protect wolves. We won’t have any problems.”

“I want to go to the city.” She looked up from her salmon and although she kept her expression stern, her eyes glistened with tears.

Ah, hell. What
really
was the matter?

“A red pack already resides in Portland.”

Her mouth parted.

Hunter clarified, “Leidolf is the pack leader. I met him last spring when you wouldn’t come with me to see Uncle Basil. He seemed a nice enough
lupus garou
for a red. As nice as one can be when he’s dealing with a gray pack leader, but he won’t like it that some of our pack are encroaching on his city.”

She folded her arms. “Fine. You’re bigger than the reds. Push them out and we can start over there.”

Leaning back in his chair, he studied his sister’s stubborn expression. She’d always been so predictable, so agreeable. What was wrong with her now?

“Quit looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m in my first wolf’s heat and
I…want…a…mate! Damn it.
Don’t you ever feel the pull? No, of course not. You
have one-night stands with human women who want the same thing and then you’re satiated, for a time.”

But he suspected her first wolf’s heat wasn’t the only thing making her so unreasonable. Damned if he could figure it out.

“Of course I want a mate. Nevertheless, you know as well as I do the males outnumber the females in any given pack. If I can’t find one of our kind…” He shrugged. “I’ll have to find my pleasure elsewhere.”

Not that he had been with a woman in a very long time, or was often with one. Running a pack took priority and searching for an eligible
lupus garou
female was impractical since he didn’t have a sub-leader who could watch over his people in his absence. He couldn’t even trust Meara for now.

“I miss Genevieve and the others,” she said softly, avoiding looking at him.

So
that
was the problem. “They’ll come back, Meara. Trust me in this.”

“And I miss our home.” She poked at her food, then she looked up at him. “You’re right about one thing, dear brother. I should fetch a pretty important alpha male, don’t you think?”

Important?
Try more headstrong than his sister, or her mate would never have any say in their relationship.

Hunter gave her a small smile. “That’s what I’ve been saying.”

“So
find
me one.” Her gaze sharpened along with her voice. “
Or else
I’m joining the others.”

Hunter’s twin sister was
his
to protect until he could find a suitable mate for her. Meara was not going anywhere
without him. The pack would return.
Damn it.
And he wasn’t about to chase after them.

Already past midnight by the time his sister fell asleep, Hunter threw open the front door and took a whiff of the breeze. Winter, pine, the smell of the sea. Fish. And sea kelp. Time to mark his territory, indicating he was taking the area over from his uncle, and check out Tessa Anderson’s place. Not only that, but running through the woods—seeing them alive and green after the flames had devoured the California forests, leaving ashes in their wake—he hoped it would settle his troubled thoughts. At a wolf’s pace, he would reach Tessa’s home in a couple of hours, less if he ran. Although he needed to leave his scent along the way.

Painlessly, he allowed the change to come over him, stretching his limbs, feeling the power fill his legs and body. His face elongated into a snout, his curved canines extending until they were deadly weapons that could crush bone, if he’d felt in the mood for a hunt. A double coat of banded gray fur covered his skin, keeping out the bitter cold as he loped outside in his wolf form and headed into the forest, his black nails digging into the pine needle covered floor.

At once, he enjoyed the oneness he felt with the wild out-of-doors, instead of being an intruder on the land the way he felt when he was in his human form. Now, he was a predator, more in tune with the feral side of his nature.

Yet, he felt a trifle unsettled as he headed south on their property.

Maybe Meara was right. Moving was harder than he’d expected. Part of him enjoyed the newness of being here at his uncle’s place a couple times a year, but part of him longed for his familiar hunting grounds.

Time to put aside regrets and concentrate on business.

While he was traversing the area for a few miles, the chilly, crisp air ruffled his fur, and the sound of the ocean crashed down below the rocky cliffs. The sweet fragrance of fir trees looming overhead mingled with the fishy odor of the ocean and the seaweed rotting on the beach, nearly masking the scent of a rabbit nearby. But then another smell came to his attention—not a welcome odor, either.

He twisted his head to the south. Male gray
lupus garous
—three of them—their smell wafting in the air. And not any of his pack either.
These
three shouldn’t be here.

Listening for any sounds of them, he paused.
Nothing.
Yet the adrenaline surged through his veins, preparing him for the confrontation.

He had marked his territory well, brushing his tail and face against tree trunks and branches. Even his toes pressed against the earth left his unique scent, showing beyond a doubt he had claimed it, as his Uncle Basil had before him. What gray would be fool enough to trespass on another’s lands without permission in the dark of night?

Meara! In her wolf’s heat, she must have caught their attention.

Hunter sprinted back toward the cabin. The closer he drew to his quiet home, the more his chest tightened. The grays had been here and could still be here. The transformation swift and painless, he quickly changed from wolf to human form and stood naked on the front porch where the door was still wide open. His blood burned so hot, the cold didn’t touch him. “Meara!”

The door to her bedroom was open. The smell of the
three males lingered heavy in the air. A deathly silence pervaded the place.

Hunter stormed into Meara’s bedroom. She was gone. His heart racing, he roared, “Meara!”

Her bedcovers were tossed aside, but it didn’t look as though there had been a struggle. Bile rose in Hunter’s throat. Had the grays forced her to leave with them, or had she gone willingly? He couldn’t be sure, the way the wolf heat—particularly the first one she’d had to experience—was making her so crazy.

Either way, they were dead men. Nothing less than a gray alpha male of his choosing would do for his sister. And no one would steal her away in the middle of the night without facing the devil over it.

His face extending into a wolf’s snout and his torso and limbs changing as fur covered his body, he became a wolf once again and raced out of the cabin. He smelled the intruders’ scent on the turbulent sea breeze and followed them as they headed south.

Once he found them, he would deal with them wolf to wolf, teaching them to take care when stealing a leader’s sister.

Hunter’s breath mixed with the air, an ice storm threatening.

Mile after mile he tracked the three of them and his sister. They were either so arrogant they didn’t worry about him, or just too stupid to care. They left a trail a brand-new Cub Scout could follow—broken branches and clumps of fur rubbed against trees; two even urinated a few times as if taunting him—or maybe they had weak bladders.

He growled low.

When the sun illuminated the gray clouds, brightening the day just a little in the early morning hour, he sensed the wolves had marked this new territory for their own. Trespassing or not, he wouldn’t allow them to stop him from freeing Meara and taking care of the menace.

Out of the mist, a blackened pine tree, like a soldier bitterly scarred, stood at the edge of a cliff that gave way to the ocean below. Like the forests devoured in flames they had recently escaped, except this silent soldier had been here for a very long time, the remaining forest again green.

Branches rustled west of Hunter, and he whipped around. Three hefty grays stared him down, their tails straight, the hair on their backs standing up. Hunter took a whiff of the breeze. They weren’t the ones who had taken his sister. And there was no sign of her now. But the way the leader of this group crouched low and curled his lips back, exposing his teeth, Hunter had no choice. He wasn’t backing down. If they were protecting the others who had taken his sister, they’d pay, too.

Fresh adrenaline charged through his system, preparing him for battle as he growled low, stiffened his tail like a flag of warning, and rushed the biggest of the three wolves, his muzzle wrinkling as he bared his killer canines.

The Oregon temperature was thirty-one degrees, but the knowledge Tessa Anderson’s brother might not go free made it feel colder still. On top of that? An ice storm was imminent.

Her back rigid enough to cause it to spasm with the
building tension, she sat on the wooden bench in the courtroom, her fingernails biting into her palms. She clenched her teeth, fighting tears as she waited for the foreman to make the announcement.