Wolf at the Door (9 page)

“Never mind,” Timber said, pulling his phone
out and passing it to him on her way to the stairs. “Duty
calls.”

The stairs creaked as she walked up, and
Brandt glared down at the glowing screen. Tate. Scrubbing his head
irritably, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Yeah.”

“You sound like hell.”

“What do you need, Tate?”

“Well, I had the local packs pass around that
picture we have on Charles Wolfe? One of Bannock’s girls has had a
run-in with him before. Thought this was a chat you’d want to
participate in.”

Jackpot
. “For sure. Great work. When
are you meeting with her?”

“Bannock agreed to let us into Delphi first
thing this morning. Whenever you get here, boss, we can be on our
way.”

Brandt spun around in Timber’s living room.
He was used to waking up in a hurry and having to be out the door,
but here, hell, he couldn’t even remember where he’d put his
overnight bag. He found it under the table beside the couch and
dragged it out. “Give me ten,” he said and hung up.

He’d been hoping they’d catch a break after
posting Wolfe’s picture everywhere they could think of, but even
with a visual they didn’t get lucky often. Those who’d seen someone
involved in a crime didn’t often admit it. For one of Bannock’s
wolves to say she’d seen Wolfe also put her in a hell of a lot of
danger.

She trusts her alpha
. Because if there
was one thing Nathan Bannock was good at, it was helping his wolves
feel protected and making damn sure they were safe. Brandt glanced
at the stairwell. Timber had tried, but she didn’t have the
background, training, or resources Bannock did.

Dragging out a pile of clothes, Brandt
shucked yesterday’s jeans and shimmied into a fresh pair. He might
have said fuck it and just taken off in the clothes he’d slept in,
but after a night spent snuggled up with her, he was sure her scent
permeated the fabric. Chances were he’d still get questions, fresh
clothes or not, but he didn’t have time for a shower.

“Going out?”

Brandt glanced up to see Timber leaning
against the stair rail. She wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans and
an old T-shirt. Her long purple hair was pulled back into a
ponytail, only a few loose strands teasing the edge of her face.
Staring up at her, he found it hard to concentrate on anything
other than what it had felt like to have her pressed up tight
against him, to have her lips on his. The heated warmth of her
mouth, the silken touch of her tongue against his.

Her nostrils flared and he realized he wasn’t
being subtle. She could probably smell his arousal, even if it
wasn’t stamped all over his face. Brandt jerked his attention back
to the job. He stuffed his feet into a pair of socks and reached
for his shoes.

“Yeah. Think we found someone who spotted
Wolfe in town.” Brandt tugged last night’s shirt over his head and
let it flutter to the ground. “You staying here? Hell. I never
thought to ask. What do you do, Timber?”

He glanced up. Her eyebrows had risen in a
small arch as her gaze swept down the length of his chest and back
up. “Do?”

“For a living? Do you have a job you need to
go to? I can have someone—”

Her eyes clouded and Brandt nearly bit off
his own tongue to stop the flow of words as they tumbled out of his
mouth. Right. She still didn’t trust him enough to let him bring in
anyone else. He should be thankful for what trust she’d given him,
considering...but, hell.

Maybe another one of his Hounds would have
had more restraint.

“I write. Don’t worry, I won’t leave the
house today.”

Brandt yanked on his shirt. “Good.”

“You think— you think they actually saw
Charles?” Brandt wanted to tell her it was okay, that Wolfe
couldn’t get her here, but he wasn’t about to make her a promise he
couldn’t guarantee to both of them that he could keep. He’d have
Hounds posted outside all day, but he didn’t dare make her that
promise.

“That’s what I’m going to find out. She’s
taking one hell of a risk either way. Wolfe doesn’t sound like he
likes loose ends.”

“No.” She whispered it, but even across the
room he could hear the anger in her soft voice. Her knuckles were
white where she gripped the banister.

Brandt stared at her a moment, watching the
play of emotions across her face. The hatred, the anger, the fear,
they spiraled through her, one after another. He doubted she knew
what she felt anymore. Especially now, when she’d fought so hard to
be free, only to discover it had been an illusion.

Without thinking, Brandt strode across the
room. One hand clutched the banister as he swung around and took
the two steps that put him just below her. He waited for her to
flinch when he reached out, but she didn’t. Timber stood there,
unwavering, while his hand found the curve of her neck and slipped
up along the edge of her jaw. His fingers burrowed into her hair,
and he pulled her head down, lowering her lips to his.

He shouldn’t.

Everything in him knew better. She was a job,
a victim, someone he barely knew, and yet he kissed her anyway.
Just a soft, soothing caress of lips, until she was kissing him
back. Her hands framed his face, and when he pulled away he saw her
confusion. “I promise you, I’m going to do everything in my power
to keep you, to keep this other wolf, to keep everyone I can,
safe.”

Then, before she could say anything, or he
could do anything else as reckless as kissing Timber again, he
turned and hurried to the door, snatching his keys off the table as
he passed.

Somehow, between last night and this morning,
whatever boundaries he’d maintained between personal and
professional had blurred, but fuck if he couldn’t bring himself to
feel bad about kissing her. Not when he wanted nothing more than to
do it all again. And more.

Lord help him, but he wanted more.

Chapter Nine

Timber touched
her lips as she watched Brandt walk out her door. A Hound. She’d
never believed a Hound might be a man worth giving a damn about.
But something about him turned everything she’d thought about
Hounds upside down and inside out. She wanted to trust him, wanted
to believe him, and it scared her.

Her tongue teased out over her lips, tasting
the memory of his kiss. How many times did she have to remind
herself that a man like Brandt could hurt her in ways no one else
could? Because he made her want to care about someone else for the
first time in very long time. Oh, sure, she looked out for her
pack, but she would never have let them in.

Leaning on the banister, her elbows braced
against the smooth wood, she pressed her face into her hands. God.
She’d thought this nightmare was over. Believed that, after three
years, Charles would never find her.

When she looked up, her eyes strayed to the
couch and the fear that had begun to stir eased again. Falling
asleep in Brandt’s arms probably hadn’t been the smartest thing
she’d ever done, but she’d felt safe. If Charles had walked through
that door last night, she
would
have been safe.

“You hope,” she muttered. But she’d thought
she was safe before, when she’d sought shelter in a Shifter Town
Enforcement headquarters.

Blowing out a breath, she forced herself to
move. She needed breakfast. Even if she didn’t feel like eating,
she needed the fuel. Running around last night had been a blessing,
but that much activity required sustenance. And worry, fear, all
the wild tangle of emotions battering her, depleted her even
more.

She took out her notebook as she waited for
the toaster to pop, jotting down ideas for her current project. Her
phone rang behind her and she jumped at the sound, shrill in the
silence, followed by the pop of toaster. She didn’t even bother to
glance at the caller ID when she picked up.

“Hello?”

A low growl sounded over the line and she
froze, one hand clutching at the counter. Because she recognized
that voice. “Tim-berrrrr.”

He said her name like a logger might as tree
fell in the forest, drawn out, a sound that would carry miles. It
prickled down her spine like an electric shock, making her knees
give way until she was crouched on the floor, still stupidly
clinging to the counter as if she had any strength left to pull
herself up.

Her wolf had turned frantic, the beast
clawing frantically inside her, desperate to break out. To break
free. To run. God, they had to run, right now, and go so far that
he could never find her. But running hadn’t worked last time. He’d
found her. And something told her he’d always find her.

“What do you want, Charles?” She forced the
words out. They sounded calmer than the roaring emotions in her
head. Her voice didn’t even tremble, despite the fact that she
shaking so hard her teeth should have been chattering.

“You don’t belong to him.” She could feel his
anger as if it were something physical, something that could reach
through the phone and grab her by her throat. Her hands were
suddenly icy, her lungs so cold she couldn’t breathe. “He can’t
stay with you every night.”

Brandt.

Charles had been watching
her—
them
—last night?

“I don’t belong to anyone. Not even you.” She
yanked the phone away from her ear and hung up, his answering roar
of rage cut off when the phone disconnected. She leaned her
forehead against the cool wooden cabinets, but it didn’t stop the
clutch and heave of her stomach. She twisted, trying to drag
herself to the trash can, but she couldn’t move fast enough.

She vomited on the kitchen tile right before
she passed out.

***

Kim Dawson squirmed in her chair across from
Brandt, her gaze constantly seeking out the wolf who stood nearby.
Nathan Bannock had refused to leave the room, and now Brandt could
see why. Tate had made it sound like she wanted to help them, but
this woman was scared stiff, perched at the edge of her chair like
she was ready to bolt at any second.

“Ms. Dawson...”

“I don’t want to do this, Nathan.” Her voice
trembled. Brandt opened his mouth to say something, anything, to
calm her, but her alpha stepped up beside her and knelt. Bannock
lay one hand against her knee and squeezed.

“They need to hear it from you,” he said
softly.

Kim Dawson shuddered, then reached out and
clutched her alpha’s hand. Nathan Bannock wasn’t a small man, and
he still looked every bit the Marine he’d once been. But when
Bannock knelt before one of his wolves, his face soft with
sympathy, Brandt could see the man behind the alpha who ran one of
the largest wolf packs on this side of the country. Here was a
reason Nathan remained unchallenged.

And it was the reason why, when Kim Dawson
looked back at Brandt, she seemed more at ease. Because she had to
know the man kneeling next to her could stop damn near any danger
from getting to her.

“I hate reliving this nightmare,” she told
Brandt, and her lips trembled. “I just want to forget, you
know?”

He knew. Especially after witnessing Timber’s
harsh and broken terror, he knew. Brandt nodded. “I know. I just
need you to tell me what happened.”

“I was leaving work. It was late. I wasn’t
paying attention. I was texting. My daughter—” She closed her eyes
and blew out a long, shaky breath. “My daughter always texts me
when I’m at work. I always park in the same spot, so it wasn’t like
I had to pay attention. I was just about to text her back when he
pulled me into the alley.”

“Where do you work?”

“At the hotel up on Grand Street. There’s an
alley next to their staff parking lot. It was a month ago. I
still—I still can’t let Jason touch me.” She shivered.

Brandt glanced at Nathan. “Jason Dawson, her
husband. Mate. He’s one of mine as well.”

Brandt filed that information away and
processed what she’d told him before. Her attack had happened a
month ago. That put it before the first victim. “Did you report
it?”

“Yeah. The other pack was on shift. Someone
named Monroe or...”

“I know the pack.” And he’d have Monroe send
him the case file the moment he left here. Considering it happened
before they’d known the Wolfman was back, he wasn’t surprised no
one had noticed the connection. Monroe was a good Hound, but no way
could he have known what was coming.

Still, taking a look at the file now couldn’t
hurt. There might be information that hadn’t meant anything then
but mattered now. Brandt met her gaze. “Was the man who attacked
you a wolf-shifter?”

“Yes.”

Brandt filed her answer away in the back of
his mind. It helped to narrow the timeline down a bit. It was hard
to estimate just when Wolfe had been turned, but apparently it
hadn’t happened while he was here. Brandt estimated it must have
happened several months ago, but that was just a wild guess.
Drawing a breath, he pulled out his phone and opened to a picture
of Timber. He passed it over to her. “Do you know this woman?”

Nathan raised both eyebrows and Brandt saw
the wolf’s jaw tighten. Still, the alpha held his tongue. It wasn’t
surprising to learn Nathan recognized Timber, since he kept tabs on
every wolf-shifter pack that bordered his. Hell, now that he
thought about it, Nathan had probably known more than Shifter Town
Enforcement about Timber’s pack.

Ms. Dawson leaned over to look at the phone
and frowned, confusion scribbled all over her face. “Uh...she’s the
Bear Creek alpha.” She glanced at Nathan as if looking for
confirmation, but her alpha didn’t look at her. He was staring at
Brandt, no doubt waiting for an explanation.

Brandt kept his attention on Ms. Dawson.
“Yes, but do you
know
her?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve never even
spoken to her. Just saw her around once.”