Cat Scratch Fever (17 page)

The decision to pull in front of her cabin was a moronic one, particularly since the chance of her showing up was about as likely as Jimmy Hoffa’s body being buried in her backyard, but some sad, pathetic flicker of hope made him do it anyway. He’d give her half an hour. Anything longer than that would be an embarrassment to his manhood. Growling, he took over her parking space and settled back in his seat to wait. After a few minutes passed, his bladder began pitching a bitch. Shoving his door open, he jumped out and walked to the far side of the cabin so he could relieve himself. As he headed back to his truck, he noticed the smell. It was faint, but unmistakable.

Blood.

Frowning, he changed direction and went to investigate. The hairs on the nape of his neck lifting, he eyed the snow-covered porch. The coppery scent of blood was stronger here. Loping up the steps, he frantically glanced around for the source. Dropping to his knees, he swished away some of the fresh powder. His stare landed on the few scattered speckles of red he’d unearthed, and his heart knocked harder. Now that he was in closer proximity to the blood, he noticed what he hadn’t initially. It smelled of wolf.

A mix of trepidation and rage boiled inside him as he considered the implications of that discovery. Leaping to his feet, he tried the cabin door and found it unlocked. “Lilly?” Bellowing at the top of his lungs, he ran through the tiny cabin. He checked every square inch, without any luck. His fear and fury kicked up several notches, until he was practically choking on both. Without warning, the ghostly echo of Kinsey’s earlier pronouncement floated through his mind.
There’s no way she would have willingly not shown up today.

Someone had deliberately kept Lilly away from the ceremony. And he had a good inkling who that
someone
was. He barreled down the steps and leapt into his truck. Two seconds later—foot stomped on the gas—he roared out onto the main road. Dread and rage were his constant companions as he made the short trip to his father’s house. Barely able to see straight, he rammed the gear into park. His inner wolf foaming at the mouth, he slammed from the vehicle and stormed to the front entrance. Foster—always the paranoid bastard where his worldly goods were concerned—had locked the door. Dante banged his fist on the frame until it threatened to splinter. A second later, the unmistakable slide of the deadbolt sounded.

The door swung open, revealing Foster’s livid face. “What in the devil is wrong with you?”

A haze of fury overtaking him, Dante grabbed a fistful of Foster’s shirt and hauled him outside. “What did you do to her, you son of a bitch?”

Foster’s eyes threatened to bug out. “Are you out of your damn mind? Let go of me.”

“Not until you tell me where Lilly is.”

“How am I supposed to know where your slut is?”

Dante rammed Foster against the door. “I warned you not to call her that.” He pulled his fist back and prepared to take a swing just as his cell buzzed. He considered letting it go to voicemail, but he instantly recognized Theo’s ringtone. His cousin never made a habit of calling him unless it was catastrophically important. Maybe Theo had some news about Lilly. His stomach pitching at the possible ramifications of what that news might be, Dante dug in his pocket for his phone and clicked the Talk button. “Coz?”

“I think you’ll want to come down to the station.”

Dante’s heart inched farther up his throat. “Lilly?”

“My deputy pulled her vehicle over this morning. Only she wasn’t the one driving.”

He frowned. “I don’t understand. Who had her car?”

“Anna Gifford.”

The information knocked Dante square in the solar plexus. “
What?
” Recalling the blood on Lilly’s porch and the unmistakable stench of wolf, he tensed. “Was Lilly with her?”

“No. And Anna refuses to explain how the hell she ended up with Lilly’s car. We’re holding Anna in lockup, but so far she’s remaining tight-lipped.”

A grim, deadly determination joined Dante’s fury. “Don’t worry. I’ll make her talk.”

Chapter Seventeen

Dante stormed in the direction of the rear holding cells of the sheriff’s station and glared at Anna Gifford through the bars separating them. It was a damn good thing she had the protection of that metal door, because no other force on earth would have prevented him from ripping her fucking throat out. “What did you do with Lilly?”

Anna gave a bored yawn. “I already explained to your incompetent cousin and his men that I didn’t do anything to her.”

“You lying bitch. You had her car.”

She shrugged. “I found it abandoned on the side of the road, with the keys still in it.”

“So you make a habit of stealing cars now?” Theo pointed out.

“No, I had every intention of driving it here and letting you handle returning it to its owner.”

“That why you tried losing my deputy on that county road, so you could get here faster?” Theo could be damn good at sarcasm when he wanted to be.

“Police lights make me nervous. Plus there’s all this talk lately about phony officers who mug and rape innocent women. A girl can’t be too careful these days.”

Dante gripped the bars and bared his teeth. “I already know you had an altercation with Lilly. I saw the proof of it on her porch and smelled your blood stinking up the place.”

Anna paled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Theo grunted. “Pretty damn stupid leaving DNA behind. That right there is enough to link you to Lilly’s disappearance and ultimately nail your ass to the wall if we discover you did something to her.” Theo leaned his hip against the cell. “Kidnapping charges carry a hefty sentence. Course, that’s nothing compared to the time you’ll be doing if she’s found dead. Best start preparing yourself for a nice long life in jail. Imagine you won’t have any problem becoming bunk buddies with some butch gal who’s got a real thing for skinny brunettes.”

Anna’s complexion went chalk white. Swallowing, she transferred her frightened stare between Theo and Dante. “I…I might have an idea where Lilly is.”

Dante leaned closer to the bars. “Then start talking, bitch. And pray that my mate is still alive. Because if she’s not, jail will be the least of your worries.”

Ten minutes later, with Anna’s directions firmly implanted in his brain, Dante raced outside to his truck. He slammed his door just as Theo hopped into the passenger seat. They exchanged a silent look before Dante keyed the ignition and stepped on the gas.

“Lilly’s been out there all night, coz.”

Dante fought back a bitter surge of bile. “I’m more than aware of that.”

“If that drug Anna gave Lilly remained in her system, she might not have survived the elements.”

“Lilly is tough. She wouldn’t let the cold get the last word on her.” Jesus, he hoped he was right. There was no way he could survive losing his mate.

They remained ominously quiet during the agonizingly long trip to Woodcreek Road. The snow that’d fallen overnight had already obscured most of the tire tracks Anna had left behind the day before. Coasting to a halt at the dead end, he rammed the gears into park and jumped from the vehicle. He bellowed “Lilly!” at the top of his lungs and waited—his heart in his esophagus—for her response.

It didn’t come.

He kicked his boots off and wrestled from his jacket. Shifting into his wolf would be the fastest and most proficient way of tracking his mate. He glanced toward Theo. “I’ll send out an alert once I’ve found her.”
Safe and sound.
He refused to give credence to any other outcome.

His expression somber, Theo nodded. “I’ll bring your clothes with me.”

Within seconds Dante was naked, and he crouched onto the balls of his feet. The change came over him in a flash, and he released a determined howl as he leapt over the steep embankment.

She had to be alive. Because the alternative would fucking rip him apart.

No matter how much she tried to ignore the chill creeping into her bones, Lilly couldn’t get her teeth to stop chattering. She dozed fitfully in and out of consciousness. She knew with all certainty that the next time she closed her eyes, she’d likely not open them again. Ever.

If she’d had her choices of ways to die, hypothermia wouldn’t be top of the list. The cold had never been her best friend. She’d give anything to be lying in front of a warm fire right now. Her mind immediately rewound to the other night, when she and Dante had made love on the rug in her living room. The firelight had danced across his face, making him even more beautiful than usual. It’d revealed the love in his eyes as he’d pledged to try everything in his power to make their marriage work.

God, she wished she was in his arms right now. That any minute she’d wake up and find out this was all just some psychotic nightmare. It was too bad she didn’t have the strength to pinch herself and find out if her fruitless imaginings might be real.

Not that it mattered. They weren’t.

How much longer before her body gave up the fight? Not long, from the feel of it. Her eyelids heavy, she drifted toward promised eternal sleep. Within the murky depths of her dwindling consciousness, a furious bark sounded. She struggled to determine why it seemed familiar before she admitted defeat and floated toward slumber.

The bark issued again. This time louder. Closer.

Her eyes fluttered open as the bite marks on her neck tingled.

Dante.

She fought to lift her head from the snow but barely raised her cheek. Her mate was here. He’d come for her.

Wait, this had to be a hallucination. The hypothermia was taking its final toll.

A heart-wrenching howl pierced the air. No, there was no possibility that was anything but real. She licked her dry, cracked lips and tried to call out. The only noise that escaped her mouth was a weak croak.

A lengthy silence descended, followed by a suffocating sense of defeat. Dante had left the area. With her buried underground, there was no way he’d be able to find her.

He’d been so close. The knowledge of that was enough to bring moisture to her tired eyes.

A loose drift of snow pelted down on top of her head. Was it snowing again? She’d be buried alive. Blinking, she tilted her face upward—and met glowing amber eyes. She and Dante stared at each other. Lowering his muzzle, he puffed out a breath of air and began pawing furiously at the snow and dirt blocking the entrance to the hole.

Within minutes, he’d dug his way down to her. Elation and joy filled the chambers of her heart as he morphed into his human form and gathered her into his arms. His shaking fingers combed through her hair. “Lilly, baby,
Christ
.”

Her limbs were too cold and sluggish to move, so she only snuggled against him. “You came for me.”

“You’re my mate, pussycat. I’d die before letting something happen to you.”

Sleep beckoned her with tempting promise, but she resisted its lure this time. She had to. The calling in her heart needed to be heard. “W-wolfman?”

Dante cuddled her tight to his big frame, his welcome heat slowly creeping into her bones and warming her from the inside out. “What, baby?”

“I—I’m madly, utterly and r-ridiculously in love with you too. I—I want the r-real thing.”

He stroked her cheek and offered her the most tender kiss known to wolf kind. Or cat kind. “I’m going to spend the rest of my days on this earth making you blissfully happy, Lilly. You have my sworn promise on that.”

She inched closer and brushed her lips over his. Maybe they’d have to spend all of those days figuring out how the real thing worked, but as long as they did it together, there was no way they could go wrong.

About the Author

At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.

She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.

When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality television shows.

Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.

She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at
[email protected]
and visit her online at
www.jodiredford.com
.

Look for these titles by Jodi Redford

Now Available:

Taking Liberty

Light My Fire

Vanessa Unveiled

The Naughty List

That Old Black Magic

That Voodoo You Do

The Seven Year Witch

Maximum Witch

Getting Familiar With Your Demon

Thieves of Aurion

Lover Enslaved

Coming Soon:

Breaking Bad

He should push her away…but he’d rather have his wicked way with her.

Getting Familiar With Your Demon

© 2012 Jodi Redford

That Old Black Magic, Book 4

After too many years learning death from the inside out as the familiar of a voodoo queen, soul collector Samael Gorasola betrayed his boss, which landed him on demon death row.

He should have known not even his punishment would come easy, but the deal he’s offered to escape his fate stinks. Become the indentured servant to his despised enemy? No thanks, he’d rather be six feet under. With that in mind, he picks a deadly fight with two demon hunters, only to be rescued by one misguided, deliciously innocent white witch.

Marabella hasn’t a clue what possessed her to help Sam, particularly since he’s not the least bit grateful. She blames it on her overwhelming attraction to the dark, dangerous demon, and her exasperating quest to rid herself of the stubborn curse that guards her virginity. If the guild finds out, though, she can kiss her white-witch status goodbye.