Past My Defenses (Taming the Pack series) (Entangled Ignite) (13 page)

Chapter Nine

She just left.

He sat there, staring at the door, long after it slammed—which was hard on the already splintered doorframe. He needed to fix that. Not now, of course. Soon, though. But she’d left—run out of here like she’d been asked to stay with an ax-murderer or these poachers. She’d run right out that door. That door. He had broken through her door to save someone who apparently never needed or wanted to be saved.

“Did she leave?” Travis asked on the phone.

“Yeah.” He left his mouth hanging open dumbly. Her life was in danger, and she’d blazed out of here. What the hell was that about?

“I figured. She tends to go for a run to clear her head when things go wrong, but then she stays out too long, and her allergies get to her, and she comes back crawling, looking for one of her puffers or her purse full of meds. I keep thinking she’ll learn, but she’s not one to let a near-death experience tell her how to live her life.” He said it all so calmly and slowly. It made Dane want to reach through the phone and strangle him.

“So, if I stay here, waiting for her, she’ll come back?” He didn’t like that idea. At all. There was someone out there trying to kill her, and she went for a little track and field practice? And then she’d run until she was in bad shape and unable to defend herself…where was the sense in that? He wanted to shake her again even if it did earn him another slap.

“Yup. If you were one of us, I’d tell you to chase her down, but she’s fast. You wouldn’t believe how fast, and there are only a few of us who can catch her. Last year, a few of us were interested in her, but, and no offense, I didn’t want to spend my whole life chasing her—or dealing with her allergies. Did she tell you she’s allergic to marshmallows?”

“Yeah, well, it’s on the list.”

“Anyway, I guess, when you find your mate, all those things seem worth it, or maybe you’re just happy to find someone willing to deal with your crap.”

He didn’t know how to answer that. Someone was trying to kill Vanessa, but how on earth was he supposed to protect her if she didn’t even stick around?

He didn’t realize he’d said it out loud until Travis answered, “I’d hold all her air purifiers hostage. The times I stopped by her place, it was like she lived next door to a wind tunnel with all the noise. She must have the purest air in all of Snohomish. It must breathe in like angels have passed it down from heaven. Actually, I don’t think I want that pure of air.”

A slow grin spread across his lips. “Travis, you’re a genius.”

“Yeah, but don’t tell anyone. I get a lot more done because people think I’m an idiot. It’s funny—with how sensitive our ears are, I’m surprised she can live with all that noise from the purifiers.”

That was something he’d recently been wondering. “How good is your hearing?”

“Lycans? Well, I could hear Vanessa’s phones ringing from the crime scene…until she did something with them. I’ve had to learn to tune out the sirens because Sheriff Terry is fond of announcing whenever our small town has a crime worthy of sirens.”

“So she could hear a phone conversation outside the house if she was inside?”

“I think her allergies sometimes ruin her hearing, but I could have.”

Great. Just great. She’d been about to say something before he went outside to make that call earlier—it’d probably been to tell him not to bother.

“That reminds me,” Dane said. He might as well share what he’d learned since it, apparently, wasn’t a secret anymore. “Sammy was telling me she’d seen Cheri in a singles bar in Mount Vernon.”

“Cheri? In a singles bar?”

“Yes.”

“Huh, well, Jordan probably knew, and I suppose it wasn’t around her fertile time, or he’d have had some say in that. Did Sammy say which one?”

He rattled off the name for Travis. Travis was Lycan, with the police, and wasn’t going to be protecting a girlfriend who liked to run off—Travis’d have more time to chase down this lead anyway. “I was thinking it might be useful to see if she was meeting anyone there. It might turn up something.”

He could hear the smile in Travis’s voice. “That’s a good idea. I’ll check into that. It’s a start anyway. I told the others that you weren’t too bad for a human. I have to get back to the crime scene, but call me or Jordan if Vanessa doesn’t turn up soon. Jordan can usually track her and catch her.”

There was no way he was asking Jordan for help. If he were dying, he wouldn’t even ask Jordan to put him down.

“I have one last question. Shouldn’t Jordan have known Cheri wasn’t dead if they were mates? Vanessa seemed to think she’d feel different…if something happened to me.” She’d feel like she could be with her mate’s killer maybe. Jordan had moved on to Vanessa the minute Cheri was gone…and he had to know she wasn’t dead if Vanessa was to be believed.

And Jordan had moved on—that was a damn lie he’d told Travis.
He was just worried about Vanessa, my ass.
Jordan didn’t want the pack to know that Vanessa had picked Dane over their Alpha. Jordan had definitely moved on while he was mated to Cheri—and what was to stop Vanessa from doing the same thing once she was out of this…cycle?

“Oh, no, I mean I guess you’d think that because you would know if something happened to Vanessa, but you’re matched. Cheri and Jordan were mates, but not scent-matched. Lycans prefer monogamy and we tend to pair off—it keeps things simpler. But if either Cheri or Jordan found someone else or things changed, there was nothing between them, not even offspring. That’s why a bunch of us had thought Vanessa…well, never mind, it was a crazy idea of ours anyway. But I should go. Let me know if Vanessa doesn’t come back in a couple hours.”

“I should go too. Thanks, Travis.” He had a bunch of stuff to pack and drag back home.

…

When she got near the house, Vanessa could see that Dane’s Jeep was gone and, even as a wolf, that stung. Also, the house felt unnaturally still—so still it was creepy. She approached her own house warily, sniffing the air, but she’d pushed the run too long and her nasal passages felt swollen.

As she slunk through the boards into her den, the feeling of time being frozen only increased. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. She didn’t even bother with the robe since she knew Dane wasn’t here. She slapped open the door from her den and stood there, taking in the silence. It wasn’t her ears and her allergies; the whole place was freakishly quiet. She flicked the lights on and off to confirm she had power. Maybe a circuit had blown. Where was all the noise she’d grown used to? Her house was never this quiet unless the power was out.

Wrong…horribly, horribly wrong. It wasn’t until she found the note on the table that she realized what it was.

Your purifiers, medications, and several changes of clothes are at
my
our house. Come on four feet or two feet—I don’t care.

Yours,

D

Oh, hell no. No, he didn’t.

…

She slammed into the house just as he was finishing making dinner. It made him smile. Her version of a “hi, honey, I’m home” was much more volatile.

“I made ravioli,” he said. “I called the manufacturer on the vague ‘spices’ ingredient on the sauce to make sure it didn’t contain anything on the list. I used the opportunity to practice my pronunciation of anise. It was fun.”

“You!” She pointed at him. “You took all my air purifiers.”

“Yep. And I dragged your medication here too. It nearly took a trip all by itself.”

Maybe she was expecting him to deny it because she opened her mouth, but then huffed out a frustrated breath. She stuck with the scowl, though—a fierce scowl. “Why?” she asked as she dropped onto a stool.

“Because you have
that
much medication.”

She glared at him. It made him grin.

He leaned against the counter and made eye contact with her. “Because you belong with me, and I’m tired of worrying about you.”

She bit her lower lip and a wrinkle formed between her eyebrows. “We’ve known each other three days.” Three days was enough for him. It was ridiculous, but the thought of something happening to her made his chest ache like a heart attack.

“Would you rather go live with Jordan?”

Her mouth dropped open. “No!”

His smile spread wider. That was good and adamant. Leaning back, he flicked open a cupboard. “I tried to organize it how you had it—over-the-counter stuff on the bottom, prescription stuff on the middle shelf, but I couldn’t figure out what was up with all the stuff on the top shelf—other than the directions all said put it in food.”

“They’re for my canine.” She slipped off the stool and strolled over to the cabinet with her arms crossed.

“You don’t have a canine.”

“Not as a pet.” She flicked a glance at the cabinet and then her gaze returned to him and angry heat was pouring off her.

Yep, moving her medicine had as good as moved her in with him. It’d been meant as an obvious statement of intent. She was
with
him
. Lucifer was wrong—he could tame Vanessa enough that she wouldn’t run off like that. Not that Lucifer had said that or that he was suggesting a house cat could communicate. Hell, this whole thing was screwing with his understanding of the world.

If he couldn’t tame Vanessa, he could at least use her allergies against her—which was probably low and dirty of him, but that helplessness he’d felt on the way to her house this morning hadn’t left him. And then she’d taken off. At the very least, he wanted to know where she was sleeping at night.

He’d expected her to be angry, though—real angry. That prediction had certainly played out. Her eyes were daggers, and her back was so ramrod straight she’d have a backache if she held it much longer. When she was like this—her thin, pixie face all pinched tight with rage—he could see the wolf inside her. Her primal side was just below the surface, and it was snarling like he’d caged her again.

It was hot. If he was sure that her being in heat didn’t give her dubious motives for wanting him, he’d have said “screw dinner” and cleared the counter with a swipe so they could use it for better reasons.

She inhaled and blinked rapidly. Her shoulders relaxed, and she groaned, closing her eyes in a long blink. “I shouldn’t have taken those meds in my purse. I should have waited so I couldn’t smell anything.” Recovering, she jabbed a finger into his chest. “No, you are not allowed to be turned on and smell so good. I need to be angry with you for rearranging my life like…”

“Like what? Like you belong here with me?” He grabbed her hand, both because she had surprisingly pointy fingers and because he wanted to hold her hand.

“We’ve only known each other days,” she ground out. “You can’t touch all my stuff and haul it back to your place like a trophy kill.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure if I did hunt, I wouldn’t be taking down a hundred medicine bottles and four air purifiers.”

She jerked her hand out of his to point at him. “You! You touched all my clothes!”

“Yeah, well, my sister might want to come back or you might actually go in to work—which we will be having a conversation about, by the way—and I figured you might like to wear more than my T-shirts and boxer shorts.” He’d found a few of his clothes at her house. If he’d had a wolf side, that would have awakened the primal side of him. Apparently, nothing created the feeling of a relationship like your girlfriend hoarding your clothes.

“We are
not
having a conversation about where I work or Jordan.” Her eyes narrowed to slits.

Ah, screw it. He grabbed her face and smashed their lips together in a kiss that was more frenzied than finesse initially. You’d think he was the one in heat. She opened her mouth, and it all went south real fast. Vanessa’s mouth was made for kissing, and even the brush of their lips felt carnal the way she did it.

She pulled back and said, “No conversations about those things,” and he agreed with a “not today.” It was impressive he’d had the presence of mind for that. Those pointy fingers of hers felt amazing when they were digging into his skin instead of jabbing his chest.

When he was kissing a long trail down her neck, she moaned, “No moving my stuff again.”

“I swear I won’t move it from my place,” he said against her skin—her soft, sweet skin.

“That’s not what I…ohhhhh, Dane…okay, close enough.”

They should always fight like this.

Grabbing her hips, he pulled her tight against him as he walked her backward while he nipped her collarbone.

“Mmm, Dane.” She said his name on a low moan, and he was a goner. And he really didn’t need his shirt on. She didn’t think so either. Between the two of them, it was off a second later.

Okay. But just this once…or twice…or however many times they managed before his brain kicked on.

Dane had her pressed against the fridge, and she’d wrapped her legs around his hips when the sound of sirens penetrated the fog. They both pulled back and looked at each other.

“This happened in Reno too,” she murmured as she slid her legs down his body and fell against the fridge. “I might need an inhaler and a cold shower.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Leaning down, he retrieved his shirt from the floor as the sirens reached his driveway, and a car slid in the loose gravel near his house. He held the shirt up. One of the sleeves had nearly been ripped off. Could’ve been either of them. It was insane there for a bit. They were both taking gulping breaths like they’d been underwater.

Twisting around, she opened the freezer and grabbed a cube of ice and pressed it to her forehead, along her cheeks, and down her neck. Okay, that was only helping
her
cool down. It was ramping him up. If not for the sirens…

Tossing the ice in the sink, Vanessa slid down the fridge to the floor. She dropped the last few inches and landed with a thud. “Only sirens could have made me stop—actually, if you hadn’t stopped, I would have been fine with the police breaking it up.”

Dammit, he knew he shouldn’t have stopped.

“Were you expecting the police?”

“Not today.” She gestured at the cabinet. “I wasn’t really joking. Can you pass me the red inhaler?”

“There’s two.”