Wicked Days with a Lone Wolf (3 page)

Time and again, he’d proven he wasn’t so smart. Wasn’t so good at following the rules.
Lane Parker. Perpetual fuck up.

She squirmed again.

“Hang on, Zoe. Help’s coming. You’re safe.” Was she? He couldn’t promise her anything. He’d sit there for now and keep an eye out, but he couldn’t say dick about what came next. She’d killed before, or at least she’d tried to. That much, he knew. He’d still sit there and try to protect her.

Footsteps approached from along the fence, squawking radios and chattering voices announcing the approach of the EMTs. Lane pulled his hand from her face, with one last inappropriate brush of his finger over her chin before he did. Right under her swollen lip. Her eyes stayed closed, but he knew they were brown. A deep, dark, mesmerizing coffee color. Her nose, though now bloody, was strong-boned. And those lips...

Those lips were everything he couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.

Fuck. He didn’t want to have to take her in for this.

S
herri had started to follow after Lane and Jett, but ran into a wall of muscle.

“Stop. Eat your food.”

“Seriously?” Sherri’s hands went to her hips as she poked her head around one of Ash’s shoulders and then the other, trying to see where Jett and Lane had run to and what they’d chased after.

“You quit the FBI, Sherri. You haven’t even bothered to look for new work, so technically you’re still on vacation. You can’t go running after suspects.” He smiled slightly and held out the container. “Especially not on an empty stomach.”

She shook her head and took the food, still watching the corner Ash’s brother had disappeared around. “I guess you’re right.” Managing to spear a tomato chunk, she stopped again before bringing it to her mouth. “This wasn’t how my time off was supposed to go.”

Ash stood up straight. His shoulders went back and his lips formed a tight, thin line. “And you blame me, is that it? You think this trouble you’ve run into is my fault. First my old pack tries to kidnap you, and now this.”

She jammed another bite into her mouth then, mostly to have something to do other than talk. She hated to make him feel accused, but she also hated this mess she’d been forced to deal with. Back in DC, murder victims had never popped up while she was out grabbing breakfast.

“Ash...” A bite of egg and cheese went into her mouth while they stared each other down. “No,” she said when she finally swallowed. “I don’t blame you. When I met you, I knew getting involved with a werewolf was risky. Still, this killing was clearly done by one of your kind and I just
happened
to find the body. It’s an awfully odd coincidence.”

He leaned forward, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I came from a pack of criminals. Gun runners. Drug dealers. Thieves. I
still
never ran into any dead bodies until the one you tripped over today. Do you think maybe—possibly—this isn’t my fault? It’s not as if I’m personally acquainted with every
were
who lives on the border. Besides, you’re the one who’s spent the past several weeks dragging your feet on making any life decisions. You think I haven’t noticed? Am I to blame for that, too?”

Sherri rubbed a hand across her forehead. Stress crept in, making it throb. They hadn’t fought much in their short relationship, and she hated that they were doing it now. “I didn’t say that was your fault.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at a young officer who had too much interest in their discussion. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

Sherri smacked Ash’s arm. “Stop. That was uncalled for.” Dammit though, she hated to admit how sexy he looked when his chest muscles rippled like that. Made it hard to stay irritated with him.

Sherri was saved from saying more when Jett came back, limping as he pulled on his disheveled clothes. And bleeding. “What happened?”

Jett hiked his thumb in the direction from which they came. “Someone up on Stonewalk put out traps. Wild animals get in the garbage and whatnot sometimes.” He shook his head while he buttoned his shirt. “Stupid. I shoulda seen it coming, but I was too focused on catching whoever we were chasing. I shifted and got myself out, but my leg’s messed-up.”

Ash looked around. “Where’s Lane?”

“He kept going. Championship track in college. I’ve seen the guy run. Anybody can catch up with something on four legs, it’s him.”

Sherri stared down at her pedicured toes. The pretty pink seemed so ridiculous now. She could run fast. If she’d had better shoes, she might have been able to help.

She looked back at Jett. “Is there anything I can do?”

He took a deep breath. “Let me get this bandaged up and I’ll meet you at the station to look over the mug book. Can’t hurt to try. Sooner we nail down who pulled this shit and why, the better.” With a growl, he turned and limped off toward the ambulance waiting to cart away the dead guy.

Sherri looked into Ash’s eyes for a moment. “This is not how I hoped we’d spend the day before I have to fly home,” she said finally.

Ash looked around. “I know.” He grinned and stepped closer. “You know, I think I have an idea. I think the problem is, you should never have gone outside this morning.” He inclined his head. “Outside is where they keep pesky distractions like dead bodies. I think we need to go back to basics. Find a place with a bed, lock the door, and get naked.”

Sherri smiled back. From the day she’d met Ash, he’d known exactly how to make her forget her troubles. Sure, he chose to do it with sex, but she couldn’t find it in her to complain. He did it so well.

Still, all things had a time and place. She raised an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I think we need to put your brilliant plan on hold. Your brother asked us to come look at mug shots.”

Ash stepped back, looking chagrined. “You want me to stop trying to sex you up at a crime scene, don’t you?”

She coughed out a laugh. “It’s a little inappropriate. I guess I can’t be too mad, though. I spent two years with a guy who kept coming up with reasons not to have sex. It’s nice that you’re interested, albeit... at the wrong times.”

“Yeah, well, fuck that guy.”

Sherri laughed. “Pass.” If she never saw her ex again, she’d be content. Since Ryan had been sentenced to ten years in prison, she was good for a while. She patted Ash on the shoulder. “How about this? Let’s go to the station, flip super fast through Jett’s mug book, and then we can do the thing with the bed and the locked door. Deal?”

Ash’s arm squeezed tight, sniffing a trail from her ear down her throat. “Bring the bagels. If I can’t get laid at the station, I’m gonna be starving.”

“Asshole.” Sherri punched him on the arm and then headed for the car.

***

A
sh sat beside Sherri in the cramped police station meeting room and tensed every muscle in his body to remain still. With a full moon due in the next couple of days, he was barely under control. Emotions and anxieties raced over his skin and buzzed in his ears like greedy insects on an abandoned corpse.

He studied Sherri’s delicate profile as she flipped through a mug book. So dedicated. Concentrating carefully on each image, her graceful neck extended while she looked down. Her newly manicured nail tapped each picture thoughtfully. Lips—pink, plump, pouty lips he’d enjoyed on his dick earlier in the shower—now turned into a thoughtful frown.

She hadn’t spoken to him in an hour. And why should she? He’d been an asshole. Since they’d left the crime scene to come here, she’d stayed drawn into herself, thoughtful and quiet.

Ash couldn’t help but worry that perhaps she’d finally reached the same conclusion he had: She deserved better. Better than a man who couldn’t even claim something as basic as total humanity. Whose family didn’t belong to a gang of outlaws.

A month. A month she’d lived here with him, and she’d yet to find a full-time job or a permanent place to live. He could read the writing on the wall. It could only mean she harbored doubts about their relationship. About him.

“Nope.” Sherri lifted her head from the book.

Ash tipped his head to the side. Had he spoken aloud? “Nope to what?”

“I told your brother I wasn’t going to recognize anybody, and I didn’t.” She drummed her fingers on the desk. Quickly, nervously, like it might help her drum up answers to the questions in her head. “I don’t understand what’s going on here, Ash. I mean, Jett seemed a little cagey. Are they looking at me for this?”

He rubbed a hand on her knee. “They can’t possibly think you killed that guy. I saw the body. You didn’t even have any blood on you.”

“I wish they had something conclusive to tell us.”

Fuck, he did too. This woman—this smart, sexy, capable human—had landed in danger before due to bad blood between him and his old wolf pack. Ash didn’t know what was up with this killing and why Sherri, of all people, had the dumb luck to find the body. The ants and spiders with their uneasy marching worked their way under his skin and bit into the base of his neck, making his hair stand on end.

What the fuck was going on? What could he do to make it stop? His female had a problem, and his job was to fix it. He couldn’t sit there doing nothing, but nothing was all he had.

His brother wandered back in, limping slightly from his earlier injury. He clutched a coffee cup like it held all the answers they needed. God, if only it did. “Sorry about the wait, guys.”

Sherri gestured to the book. “Sorry. I told you I didn’t get a look at anyone.”

Jett rubbed his neck. He looked from Sherri to Ash and back again. “Turns out we may have a suspect.” Saying so made Jett look queasy.

Ash had the sinking suspicion he knew why. “One of ours?”

Jett nodded. “Detective Parker found Zoe at a foreclosed piece of property not far from the crime scene, looking like she’d gone ten rounds with somebody.” He shook his head. “It isn’t promising.”

Their half brother’s widow hadn’t had an easy time of things. They’d been trying to keep an eye on her, but Jett’s call that morning had been to let Ash know that Zoe had gone missing. Now this. Fuck, what had Zoe done?

Sherri turned to Jett. “I know you want to get this resolved so I hate to ask, but I’m supposed to fly back home tomorrow to deal with a break-in at my rental property. Do you need me to stick around?”

“Home.” Ash leaned close, bracing his elbows on his thighs. He took in her scent, the fresh nail polish and some new lotion she was trying that smelled of lemongrass. The warm comfort of her skin. “You think of DC as home. Still?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Not really. But, you know. Back home. It
was
home. I still own property there. I have old friends there.”

He cleared his throat. “Of course.” She had a place she could run to, a place without the dangers of drugs, and border smuggling, and werewolves. No mauled bodies found behind trash bins, probably.

A place without him.

“You could... come with me? If you wanted.” She smiled. “I don’t know if you’d want to. They don’t have your kind there, and the weather is rainy, according to the weekend forecast. I could show you around a little though. We could do the museums or visit the monuments while we’re there, if you wanted.”

Ash stared, startled by the request. Processing all the parts of the question. He’d offered that morning and she’d blown him off. Now she was—what?—proposing to show her old life to him? To take him on a trip?

Dammit, sometimes the art of female communication eluded him entirely. He wasn’t sure what she was asking for.

Before he could respond, Jett cleared his throat to remind them he was still in the room. “Sherri, if you need to leave town I only ask that you stay in touch. You’re a former federal agent and your record is clean. I don’t think you killed this guy, and I don’t think you’re a flight risk.”

“Thanks. I think.” Now her smile barely made an appearance, and Ash supposed he could understand. Jett could be a real dick, and that wasn’t much of a compliment. He squeezed his hand on her knee, feeling out of his depth. Was there someone whose face he could smash to fix this?
That
he knew how to do.

Jett nodded slightly, his lips pulled tight. His face grim. Addressing Ash, he said, “It’s... Zoe wasn’t in good shape when Lane found her. She’s in custody over at the hospital. Awaiting questioning, once she regains consciousness.”

Oh, shit.
“You mean for killing that guy.” Not a question.

Jett nodded again. “At the very least, she’s a witness. The guy’s ID was fake, so we’ve got nothing else.”

Ash squeezed Sherri’s hand. “I should go check and see if she’s okay.” He turned to see her face.

Sherri squeezed back with warm hands. “It’s okay. I told you, it’ll be an easy trip. Looking out for family is important.”

Ash growled. Once again, the weight of old obligations he hadn’t asked for—obligations he’d tried to walk away from—pushed down on the back of his neck. Thing was, he couldn’t walk away from Zoe. With her mate dead, she was alone. Zoe had been a victim of the bastards who’d raised Ash as much as anyone, and she needed help from the few people who still gave a shit.

Unfortunately, helping meant leaving Sherri’s side when their relationship had hardly grown roots. Instinct told Ash it was a bad move. Trouble was, he couldn’t tell if it was his internal compass, or the pressure of that damned full moon calling the shots.

“Fine,” he said at last. “But you promise me you’ll check in regularly. I need to know you’re safe.”

Even as she agreed, Ash seethed inside. He didn’t like her leaving. Not now. Not one bit.

S
herri stopped short on her way into Ash’s house when he mentioned those two little words:
Pack business?

“I don’t understand. You don’t belong to the pack anymore. So what’s the situation here?” She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail but a piece came free, and she tugged at it, nervous and unable to stop. “This is about Zoe, right? I mean, I want you to help her if she needs help. But the last time you got mixed up in pack business, bad things happened. You could have gotten killed.
We
could have gotten killed.”