Predator's Claim (23 page)

Well, he couldn’t miss it now. And God forgive him, he’d react accordingly.

* * * *

As Charlotte raced through the woods toward Fletcher’s cabin, her nerves got worse with every step. She still wasn’t sure what sort of situation Bart was walking into, or what she’d see when she got there, but she just knew it wasn’t going to be good. The thought that someone might hurt him, even in the smallest way, had her wringing her hands as she ran.

Surely her wolf had it wrong. This had to be a big mistake. Okay, everyone had a messed up family, but the suspicions in her head were worthy of a Shakespeare tragedy.

Tired of second guessing herself in so many ways, she continued. A crack of wood sounded behind her and she stopped in her spot.

She had company.

As her wolf crouched low inside her, on guard, Charlotte whipped around to see what had made the noise, praying it was merely a regular animal wandering the woods. A chipmunk would be nice.

However, when the flash of fur passed by her left side, her hopes for a chipmunk confrontation were dashed. For a moment, she wondered if Jason Burns had managed to escape the police yet again. Bart had been so convinced the criminal would seek her out, or someone he loved, in retribution. Had that moment come?

She realized her error when a sleek mountain lion roamed between the nearby trees, its luminescent gaze fixed on her. At first, she thought it might be just a regular mountain lion, but it was too big to be all animal. This dude was definitely shifter.

“Connor?” she called out, hoping it was her pal in security. Of course, Connor wouldn’t have scared her while she was out in the woods alone. If he’d run into her, he would have approached in human form.

The animal shook its head, confirming her suspicions.

Her wolf charged her ribcage.
We need to get to Bart. Tell the cat to step aside
.

She took a few steps away from the great cat. “Uh, excuse me. Nice kitty.” She watched it as it watched her, and it didn’t move. Feeling a bit better, she picked up her pace and looked away.

Until she heard the man call her name in a slightly drunken, sing-song voice. “Oh, Charlotte. Did you miss me?”

As her heart sank, she turned around to face the familiar, nude figure. “Dylan. What the fuck?”

“Hi, sexy lady. I just couldn’t stay away.”

She planted her feet and considered escape routes while trying to look as if she was giving him all her attention. “Um, you need to get out of here before Bart sees you. I swear to God, he didn’t like you before. If he sees you now, he will rain hellfire all over your naked ass.”

He narrowed his eyes, as if thinking hard. “Bart. Which one of the hicks was he? Oh yeah, the dude who kicked me out. Your special friend.”

“He’s more than a friend. We’re mated now.”

He pretended to wipe a tear from his eyes. “Oh, be still, my heart. Well, congratulations.”

“You didn’t come here to throw confetti at me.”

“Not really.”

“Then why are you here? To apologize?”

When he laughed out loud, she caught the stench of rum. He’d definitely been drinking, but he didn’t appear as drunk as she’d first suspected. His movements were too steady. She had to watch her step around him. Yes, she could shift into her wolf and fight him, but as an animal, he was larger than she was.

“No, bitch. I’m not here to apologize.” He took a few more steps toward her, his muscles tensing with raw energy and the need to make her hurt. “You see, when I went home to Toronto, I decided to have it out with Dr. Reynolds. I’ve been in the department longer than you have. I’ve been published. I’ve made contributions you can’t conceive of. I explained it to him. And you know what the good doctor said to me? He told me I should seek professional help for my drinking before it cost me my job. And then he said his decision was final and the role was yours. Apparently your work is so goddamn perfect in his eyes, you could shit on his mother’s head, and he’d still think you were a fucking angel.”

“I can understand you’d be disappointed.”

“Disappointed? Charlotte, I’m not fucking disappointed. I’m incensed! That job should have been mine. I was a shoe-in until you started showing interest. And now? What do I do? I’ve tailored my entire educational career toward procuring the job they gave to you.”

“There are other roles out there, Dylan.”

“Not in our department. It’ll be years before something similar opens up and I’m not relocating my whole life to some God-forsaken place. No, like you and I have joked in the past, you don’t get a job in our department unless someone dies.” He moved right in front of her. “So, you have to die, Charlotte.”

Even as he crouched so he could shift into his beastly shape, she pleaded with him. “Dylan, I can’t do this right now. My mate’s in trouble. Let me go to him, and I swear I’ll come back and we’ll talk this out. We’ll work something out.” Before the last few words were out of her mouth, she began to run.

He didn’t stop to further discuss the possibilities. Dylan shifted and broke into a sprint.

And as she fumbled away, rendered un-coordinated by fear, her wolf called out to her mate’s.
Bart!

* * * *

Charlotte!

As Fletcher paced and mumbled to himself on the other side of the clearing, Bart fought to stand upright as the pain in his stomach grew unbearable. And now his wolf was calling out for her. What was going on?

Biting his lip, he stifled a shout of pain, and prayed Fletcher would remain distracted for a moment or two so he could focus on his mate. Damn! He shouldn’t have cut off his connection to her.

Charles, what’s happening? I can feel your fear
.

Bart! I was coming to find you and ran into Dylan in the woods. He’s deranged. He wants to kill me
.
And for a fucking job!

Mother of God. As sweat broke out on his lip, he knew he had to get out of there to help Charlotte. There was no way he could do it while his cousin rampaged just a few paces away, brandishing a loaded weapon. Shifters might heal from most things, but bullets could still tear their way through shifter flesh and kill.
I’m coming, baby. I promise
.

Putting out a silent call to any pack members within easy distance, he told them about Charlotte’s plight. Satisfied he was heard, he concentrated on Fletcher. Seeing him lost in thought, Bart slowly backed away. As luck would have it, Fletcher chose that moment to return to lucidity. He aimed the gun at Bart’s heart. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

He put a hand up, in a gesture of calm. “It’s Charlotte. She needs me, Fletcher. I have to help her.”

He smirked. “Oh, Charlotte. Yeah, she’s a tasty piece. You know, after I dispose of you, I think I’m going to teach her some manners. I didn’t like the way she looked down her nose at me. She might change her mind once I’m looking down my gun at her. I bet I could get her to do a lot of interesting things.”

Bart’s scar felt like an angry, pulsing mass on his face as he imagined his cousin holding Charlotte at gunpoint, forcing her to degrade herself with him. So help him, he’d make Fletcher eat his own gun before he ever got close enough to his mate to make any of those things happen. “I’ll die before I let you touch her.”

“That’s sorta the idea here. And I will touch her. I’ll touch her hard.”

Tasting blood, Bart realized he’d bitten his lip. If he wasn’t careful, his rage would get the better of him. He forced his outraged wolf into a corner and framed his words in the calmest voice he had. “You know, it saddens me that we can’t fight honorably over this, wolf to wolf. Why don’t you put the gun down and you can show me what you’re really made of? After all, if you want to be Alpha, you’ll be expected to be strongest. You always take the easy road, Fletcher. You took it when you gave me my scar, and you’re cheating again now.”

He bristled. “Even without the gun, I could totally take you.”

“You don’t sound convinced. What’s the matter? Worried your wolf will look like a little puppy next to mine?”

“Don’t talk to me like that.”

“I’m just stating what’s obvious. It’s clear you’re afraid of wolf-to-wolf combat.”

“I’m not afraid of you.”

“Prove it. Shift, and let’s do this old school. Come on,
cousin
.”

It seemed a bit of goading was all it took to fire up Fletcher’s ego. Banking on what he knew of his cousin’s natural fussiness, Bart was gratified to see him lower the gun and begin to carefully strip out of his clothes.

Bart wasn’t quite so fussy.

Without bothering to disrobe, Bart shifted with an enraged burst, splitting through his clothing. The fragments of denim and flannel hadn’t even floated to the ground before he lunged.

Panicked, not even half-undressed, Fletcher saw his mistake and shifted at the last minute. But not before Bart had the perverse pleasure of raking his claws down his face, giving him a nearly identical scar. Wolf Fletcher howled in pain, blood streaming into his eye. He bared his fangs and leaped into the air toward Bart.

Maddened with bloodlust, and the need to get to Charlotte, Bart met him head on, determined to make it a quick fight. As their bodies crashed and clashed, he called out to make sure his mate was okay.
Charlotte?

I’m here. I’ve shifted. He’s chasing me but doesn’t know the woods here like I do.

Good girl. Keep him running
.

Fletcher clamped his jaw down on his thigh and he cursed mentally.

Bart? What’s happening?

It’s Fletcher. Guess who wants to be Alpha
.

Oh, shit. Be careful!

Don’t worry about me. Just keep that scumbag Dylan running until I can rip out his throat
.
And please, be careful too
.

Bart tussled with Fletcher, rolling around and around in the snow with him. All the while, he snapped and growled, sickened at the steps he had to take. He bit down on his cousin’s shoulder, and the other wolf yelped in pain.

Good. Now if he could only get to his vulnerable neck.

The two wolves ripped and tore at each other’s fur. Bart felt the sting of resentment in each of Fletcher’s attacks, but he had his own terror for Charlotte spurring him on. He would not let Fletcher best him, not while his mate was out there, threatened and alone. He barked in fury and lunged for his cousin’s neck, but Fletcher managed to roll out from under him. No sooner had he wriggled free, Bart pinned him again, forcing his sharp back claws into the other man’s haunches.

And still Fletcher found the strength to push him off.

What’s the matter, cuz?
he taunted.
Getting tired?

The two canines faced each other, eyes burning, blood matting both sets of fur. Hot air poured from their open mouths as they panted. And in that moment, facing down an enemy that should never have been one, Bart realized this was where he must truly stake his claim as Alpha. The transfer of power from father to son had been peaceful, but this skirmish between cousins demanded a bloody finish. And he was just the wolf man to do it.

He let out a bloodthirsty howl that rang through the woods, to let Charlotte know he was coming. And then he aimed his gaze at Fletcher.

I am Alpha. I don’t get tired
.

As Fletcher paused, absorbing his words, Bart launched himself at him, aiming for his throat. Fletcher didn’t have time to shield the sensitive area and could not fend off the attack. Bart’s canines sank deep into his cousin’s throat and blood filled his mouth. As his kinsman’s voice issued in a garbled groan, Bart finished him off to put him out of his misery.

A sad end to a sad chapter, one whose implications he didn’t have time to consider now.

He put out a call to his dad and brother to let them know where to find Fletcher, and then he honed in on Charlotte to determine her exact location.

He would taste blood twice tonight.

Chapter 14

Charlotte knew, to a human observer, it might appear the mountain lion and the silver wolf were playing a mad game of “Catch Me If You Can.” However, any shifter would realize their frantic dash through the trees was her attempt to wear him down. Any shifter would have smelled the fear and antagonism in the air, and would have known this was a battle to the end. Another shifter would have intervened. However, in a resort full of the blasted creatures, she couldn’t seem to find another shifter to save her life.

Granted, Dylan wasn’t letting her anywhere near the resort. She’d run a huge circle through the outer woods, over crags and under fallen trees, but every time she made an attempt to get closer to the Ursa property, he cut her off.

Clearly, he hadn’t drunk enough rum to make this an easy win for her.

She felt bad about him losing the job, she really did, but these things happened in life. Most people didn’t go postal when they missed out on a promotion. Perhaps Dylan had had his nose in religious tomes too long and had forgotten how the outside world worked. She’d always known scholars were a crazy breed unto themselves. Hell, her colleagues at the university might be brilliant professors, but some of them couldn’t tie their shoes.

The worst part was him thinking she’d slept her way into the job. Sure, she had experience with men, but those activities always stopped short at the university door. At work, she’d always been professional and respectful. Dylan had been the only one she’d ever slept with from their circle, and that was only because she’d needed some sort of sexual outlet and he’d been convenient. Had she given off the wrong signals to Dr. Reynolds, her boss? No. For one thing, the man was practically an octogenarian, and there was no way she would have ever compromised her reputation with him.

Dylan just couldn’t handle being the lesser man. Truth be told, she should have seen it coming long ago. He had been doing a lot of drinking. She’d seen the empty bottles he hid in his desk drawer, but he’d always explained them away. And then there were the snarky remarks he made to her, ones she’d dismissed. Harder to dismiss were the vile looks aimed in her direction, but she’d managed to forget them too. So busy with her studies, she’d ignored all the signals. She’d ignored her instincts.