Call of the Wilds (2 page)

Chapter Two

Heart thudding against her ribs, Karin tried to swerve, but it was already too late. Just before the rollover she sent up a prayer. For a second, she hung suspended in mid-air. Then she took flight, a move worthy of the Cirque du Soleil.

The weird somersault landed her flat on her back and knocked the air out of her. If the ground hadn’t been padded with a thick springy layer of pine needles, it could have been a lot worse. Her muscles already hurt from yesterday’s rescue, so a few more aches and pains wouldn’t matter.

She removed her helmet and studied the ATV resting on its side, officially out of commission. The Kawasaki Mule was as sure-footed as its namesake. She had only herself to blame. If she hadn’t been going so fast, she would have seen the downed limb. So much for being in a hurry.

She had no concrete reason to rush to the refuge this morning. The wolf had no broken bones. Her wounds had been cleaned and dressed, and she left plenty of fresh water in the cage. Karin’s uneasy feelings had more to do with the animal’s safety than any injuries she sustained.

No doubt any number of people would be happy to see the wolf dead. The discovery of the hiker’s body spread like wildfire, and the residents were scared. Word of the captured wolf would spread just as fast, and the news would bring out every trigger-happy yahoo in Black Wolf. Anyone who broke in and killed the captive animal would be a hero.

She considered sleeping at the refuge. It wouldn’t have been the first time she stayed over with a sick animal, but this time the idea didn’t appeal to her. Maybe the animal frightened her more than she wanted to admit. That was one angry wolf when she woke up in captivity. One look at her surroundings and her lips curled back in a snarl, displaying some wicked-looking incisors. Being the object of an aggressive animal’s rage disconcerted her. She accepted this position because the only predators she wanted to deal with were the four-footed kind. She had gotten her wish—in spades. Reality turned out to be a bitch.

Only it didn’t feel right. Wild wolves shied away from people. The hiker could have died from a fall and his body ravaged by scavengers, or he might have been attacked by some other animal. As far as she knew, the wolf was innocent until the autopsy report proved otherwise.

She tried to stop worrying and enjoy the walk. The pine-scented air made her forget the stink of garbage and exhaust fumes, and hundred-foot hemlocks beat skyscrapers any day. And who needed a gym when hiking kept her legs in such great shape? She did miss Starbucks, but she ordered the beans online.

Falling in love with the Wilds came easily. It was a Garden of Eden for a veterinarian, with elk, deer, bobcats, mink, and a multitude of trilling birds to serenade an appreciative audience. The more time she spent in Black Wolf, the more she felt purged of the urban evils she left behind. If she stayed long enough, she might become a whole person again.

With a hoarse squeal, a red-tailed hawk, talons extended, swooped, seized an unsuspecting squirrel, and lifted off with its meal. It happened so fast the victim didn’t have a chance. She knew what it felt like to be grabbed by a predator and lose all control, but she was far from the concrete jungle. Survival of the fittest was the natural order of things here.

The walk ended all too quickly. She rounded a bend and arrived at the large log house that served as a visitor center and wildlife refuge. Umpteen vehicles jammed the hard-packed gravel lot. This couldn’t be good. She’d bet money Glenn arranged this little welcome committee. The deputy never missed an opportunity to embarrass her, and he had plenty of ammunition now. She was only doing her job, but with antagonism against wolves at an all-time high, her actions made her a target for local hostility. She’d sooner face a firing squad than what waited inside. This day just got better and better.

Nerves strung tighter than piano wire, she stepped up on the sagging porch and opened the door to a mass of male anatomy that made her pulse quicken—and not in a good way. Conversation stopped, heads turned, and the men fell back, parting like the Red Sea. She prayed for safe passage, but the hostility sucked the oxygen out of the room and threatened to suffocate her.

Never let them see you sweat.

Squaring her shoulders and looking straight ahead, she strode forward, breathing a sigh of relief when she saw Frank. Thank God for a friendly face.

* * * *

Too many men in too small a room, the refuge stunk of sweat and testosterone. Malcolm Connor stood near the door, trying to look like he fit in. The uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach reminded him he didn’t.

“Glad you decided to join us, Malcolm.”

The animal inside him stirred, its claws like grappling hooks in his gut. His wolf knew a weasel when it smelled one.

“Well, Glenn, you made it sound real urgent.”

“It is. We have a situation here, and we need to take care of it before it goes any further.”

Malcolm choked down a growl, willing his inner wolf to curl up and settle down. Glenn turned away, already focused on someone else. The little shit intended to fire everyone up before the meeting even started.

The whole damn town showed up, the males anyway. He never mingled with these people, but the deputy had called him personally, and he would be conspicuous in his absence. So he came against his better judgment. Now that he was here, he might as well stick around and satisfy his curiosity.

Rumor and gossip swirled around the new wildlife manager. The local scuttlebutt called the newcomer a left-wing animal-rights activist, a woman hell-bent on destroying their way of life, a bitch. The epithets made her A-okay in his book, a high compliment for a human.

Fifteen years ago when he came to the Wilds, there were no wolves, the last known pack hunted out of existence in the 1800s. The Game Commission took a stance against reintroducing any predatory species. They were afraid it would ruin the hunting for worse predators—the humans. The conservationists argued that wolves played a critical part in balancing the ecosystem—a true wilderness should be home to all indigenous species. When it became politically correct, the feds put wolves on the Endangered Species List and chose to reintroduce them in remote Black Wolf Gorge.

Before his heart attack, Robert McCabe, the previous wildlife manager, campaigned for delisting, hoping he could set them free and declare open season. Still on the Endangered Species List, the wolves had outlasted McCabe.

The town needed some new blood. Too bad this thing with the hiker came up. It would cause a lot of trouble for Ms. Stone, but it had nothing to do with him. He saved his concern for the wolf.

They caught the poor bitch in a leghold trap like the one that almost cost him his leg. He was a wolf-shifter, and he healed quickly, but the ordeal left scars both inside and out. He shoved the bitter memories down deep. It was another life.

 
The door opened behind him, and a miniature whirlwind passed under his nose, leaving in its wake a scent he sucked in greedily. He rolled the taste around on his tongue, a sweet, smooth confection, peaches and cream. Each and every hair on his body stood erect, and an unwelcome surge of desire settled in his belly.

The little dynamo strode to the front of the room, head back, shoulders straight, a force to be reckoned with. Her jeans were tight and low on her hips, drawing his attention to the curve of her butt. She had an enticing walk. Her long, purposeful strides and swaying hips aroused his inner wolf. He curbed the unruly beast, and it settled reluctantly, a frustrated presence inside him.

It had been a long time since a woman’s essence brought out his wolf. He must be hornier than he thought. Finally, she turned, and with only a glance, set off a jolt that sent his heart hammering. She might as well have pressed shock paddles to his chest. This time his wolf wouldn’t be quieted.

Every feature imprinted itself on his brain. Honey-blonde tendrils escaping from a ponytail curled around a delicate oval face. Dimples came and went with each change of expression. She rolled enormous chocolate eyes at the sheriff, and explosive lust-filled images filled his head.

This fragile human woman, so totally different from the females he’d grown up with, excited all his carnal instincts. Her delicious body took his frustrated libido to a new high. If he had his way, he’d be ripping her clothes off and taking her right here. Thoughts like that would get him in big trouble. He had no business sniffing around the refuge manager. She had to be past the age of consent, but still much too young for an old dog like him. She wasn’t even his type—too short, too pale, too human. Still it couldn’t hurt to look. He growled softly when he saw others doing the same.

Frank leaned in closely and put a possessive hand on her back. She looked uncomfortable with the intimate gesture. So was he. Overwhelmed by an urge to grab her and run, he started toward them. Only the crush of bodies saved him from reaching the sheriff and making an ass of himself. He backed up to his spot by the door.

Every time she looked his way, blood surged to his cock and made it writhe like an impatient serpent. He wanted to feel those lips and tongue on every part of his body, especially the part throbbing between his legs. Never before did he feel more like an animal. He stared at her as if she were Little Red Riding Hood and he were the Big Bad Wolf.

Chapter Three

“Just the way you like it. Black.” Frank offered her a mug and a reassuring smile.

“Bless you.” The coffee was lukewarm but it helped. She played with the stirrer for a few seconds to collect her thoughts.

“Sorry about this.” He gestured around the room, then leaned in so close she could smell the Irish cream liqueur he used to flavor his coffee.

“Glenn told a few people about the wolf and you know how fast word spreads around here. Things just got out of hand.”

“Horseshit,” she whispered out of the side of her mouth. “He knew exactly what he was doing. Anyway, it’s not your fault. I have to face them sooner or later.”

“Later is right. They’ve been waiting an hour.” He took a big swallow. “The natives are restless.”

“My bad. I had a spill and walked most of the way.”

“Shit, Karin, you need to be more careful on that thing.”

“I’m okay. Don’t know about the Mule though.”

“I’ll take care of the Mule. You worry about the men. Just answer their questions so we can get them the hell outta here.”

“What makes you think they’ll listen to me? Their minds are already made up.”

“They want to hear what you have to say. I warned you there’d be trouble. Maybe I should have looked the other way when we had the chance.”

“You did the right thing.” Frank upheld the law, for the most part, but sometimes he went overboard trying to please the voters. Coming from the city, she was no stranger to corruption but that didn’t mean she’d condone it or turn the other cheek. “You can’t terminate an animal without good reason.”

“Some would say we have plenty of reason. This is not somebody’s pet, Karin. We look at things different here.”

“She’s still classified as an endangered species and under our protection until the Wildlife Bureau tells us different.”

“It’s too late now anyway. With all the notoriety, I can’t take a piss without permission.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry.”

“Forget it. Everybody’s uptight. We need to stay calm until we’re sure we have all the facts.”

“Most of us are sure already.”

She shook her head in resignation, but she let him have the last word.

A hush fell over the room, and every head turned toward the door. Karin strained her neck to see who the late arrivals were.

For a second, the bright sunlight obscured her vision. Then Jude Outlaw strode into view, his pack following close behind. White-blond hair framed his face like a halo, but he was no angel. Because of him, she limited her trips into town. The way he looked at her made her skin crawl, and she’d become a prime target for his crude sexist remarks. At first she ignored him, but he persisted, and she told him off. He laughed and said it’s a free country. After that, he never missed an opportunity to taunt her, so she avoided him. She hated herself for acting the coward, but he was somebody she didn’t want to mess with—a bully and a predator like the men she left back in the city.