Dreaming of the Wolf (6 page)

Dressed in a blouse and skirt covered in red roses, a gray-haired woman smiled in greeting, dimples appearing on her full cheeks. “May I help you, sir?”

“A woman came in here wearing a black suit, her hair dark brown, and… her name is Alicia Greiston. I need to track her down.” He sounded as desperate as he felt.

The smile instantly fell from the florist’s face, and a grave sadness marred her appearance. But she hesitated to say where she might think Alicia had gone.

“We met at the restaurant down the street for breakfast. Some guy was trying to strong-arm her out of the restaurant. I stopped him. Alicia and I are to meet later for lunch, but after I dropped off my photographs at the art gallery, I worried that the thug who had been bothering her might have followed her.”

“A man? Oh.” Her brows knit together in a deep frown. “You were at Cliffside Art Gallery?”

“Yes. You can ask Mary Clebourne. I dropped off some photographs of wildflowers just now.”

The woman still hesitated, but her frown lessened some. He figured she was probably thinking that any man who photographed wildflowers couldn’t be all bad.

“I need to make sure she’s all right,” he added.

The woman chewed on her upper lip and then said, “She bought flowers for her mother, Missy Greiston. The murder shocked everyone here in Breckenridge several months back.”

“Murder?” He frowned, the bits and pieces he knew about Alicia and her mother swirling around in his thoughts. Why hadn’t Alicia mentioned that her mother had been murdered locally? He supposed it wasn’t the thing to talk about when just meeting someone. On the other hand, he suspected she hadn’t wanted him to know.

“Oh my, yes. It was dreadfully awful. Mrs. Greiston had bought plants from me from time to time, whenever she and her daughter, Alicia, came to Breckenridge. They both really loved flowers.” The woman cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes. “No one has pinned the crime on anyone yet.”

Jake remembered what the waitress, Tami, had said. Alicia’s mother had been dating a mobster. Like mother, like daughter. But had Alicia been dating a mobster? Or was that just a way for Tami to convince Jake not to get involved with Alicia?

“Alicia’s at a cemetery?” he asked in a hurry.

“No. Alicia goes to the place where Missy Greiston died. It’s the trailhead at Spruce Creek Trail, two miles south of town. And it has a well-marked parking area.” She sketched him a map. “It’s not far from here. And she just left. If you hurry, you should be able to catch her still there. Don’t tell her, but… I always remove the spent flowers before she returns at the end of the week. I don’t want her to see how sad the wilted wreaths look upon her return.”

Jake nodded, said a quick “Thanks” and grabbed the map. He hurried out of the shop, the whole while wondering if Missy Greiston’s murder had to do with Alicia following a bunch of mobsters. Hell, the woman had to have a death wish.

Maybe that wasn’t so far from the truth.

Driving way over the speed limit and glad there weren’t any cops or much traffic to delay him, Jake soon reached the site on the map. His thudding heart nearly quit when he saw not only Alicia’s red car and a couple of others, but one of the black Mercedes he was sure he’d seen parked at the restaurant. It was now sitting beside her car, too. And the occupant or occupants were already on the move.

Jake dashed out of his truck and sprinted up the heavily forested trail, hoping to hell he wasn’t too late. Gunfire sounded, and another surge of adrenaline rushed through his veins. He had to shift. He didn’t have any weapons on him, and he had no other way to protect Alicia against gun-wielding tyrants, if she was being targeted, except as a wolf. After dodging off the trail, he quickly jerked off his clothes and willed himself to shift.

With anger and frustration overwhelming him, he felt the heat already pouring into his veins grow even hotter with the shift as his body changed from a human form to his wolf body, complete with fur coat, raised hackles, and wickedly menacing teeth. He tore off after the men with a red rage filling his heart, ready to kill and praying that Alicia was still alive.

As he bounded forth, he saw one man ahead on the hiking trail, clasping his leg, writhing on the ground, and cursing a blue streak. Gun in hand, another man was trying to lift his companion. To Jake’s astonishment, he noticed as a whiff of gun smoke drifted to him that Alicia’s gun was aimed at the crouching man. Her brows were furrowed and her eyes narrowed in contempt at the two men.

Jake stopped, momentarily stunned that she’d defended herself and come out on top, although the gunman could still shoot her. Jake growled low and deep, the urge to kill racing through his blood.

All three of them turned to look at him, the groaning man bleeding, eyes wide with fear, and the other gunman’s eyes just as huge. The standing man was the one who had threatened Alicia in the restaurant, and his words came back to Jake: “
Just
so’s you know, next time, you won’t get off so easy
.”

At least his
partner
didn’t look like he was going to get off so easy.

Alicia’s mouth had dropped open several degrees when she saw Jake in his wolf form, and her dark chocolate eyes were now nearly black.

If she’d been in mortal danger, Jake wouldn’t have hesitated to end the thugs’ miserable lives. But if he did kill them, a hunt would ensue for a gray wolf who was a man-killer, and any gray wolf would be a prime suspect. Despite his noble intentions, he was sure Alicia would think he was an evil wolf from childhood tales.

The thug fired at Jake, but he had anticipated the move and dodged back into the woods. “Kill her,” the injured man said through gritted teeth.

“Aim your gun in my direction, and I’ll have to shoot you in a location that’s a lot more fatal,” Alicia warned the man threatening her with his weapon, her voice terse, her hands steady on the gun.

Jake watched from the cover of the woods, ready to come to her rescue if she needed him, when the sound of a group of men talking and laughing and heading in Alicia’s and the armed men’s direction caught everyone’s attention.

“Get up,” the uninjured man said to the other. “Hurry, we gotta get out of here.”

“Kill her,” the injured man insisted.

“Another day,” the other promised. He holstered his gun and then helped the wounded man to his feet as he cursed and groaned. Then they headed back the way they had come, the injured one walking with a pronounced limp as blood soaked his trouser leg.

Before the four men walking in Alicia’s direction were in sight, Alicia had tucked her gun away, but she glanced warily toward the woods where Jake had taken off. He stayed hidden in the pines and continued to observe her until the hikers reached her.

When the four men saw her, they greeted her, looking her over and probably trying to figure out why two men and a woman were wearing business suits there, and one of the men appeared injured. The hikers glanced at the memorial wreath she’d laid at the foot of a tree, expressed condolences, and continued on their way, a couple of them looking over their shoulders in her direction. Her focus remained on the path in the direction of the parking area.

“She’s the one whose mother was murdered in the woods,” the one said to the others in a low voice, but with his enhanced hearing, Jake heard.

“What about those two guys?” another asked.

“I told you I heard gunfire,” the first said.

“Think she shot the guy?”

“It was hard to say, but the way he was limping and the other guy was trying to help him along the path, I’d say it was a good bet.”

“Good for her.”

Their conversation trailed off as they hiked on the path deeper into the woods.

Jake didn’t like that she was trying to put Mario Constantino and Danny Massaro behind bars on her own, that they’d gotten away with murder, and that she appeared to be all alone in the world. But getting into human affairs was one of the things his kind didn’t do. That didn’t stop him from wanting to do something, though, where she was concerned.

Satisfied she’d be all right until he could return to her, he raced through the woods to where he’d left his clothes, then shape-shifted and dressed. When he was again on the hikers’ trail, he stalked back with a hurried stride to Alicia’s location to intercept her.

She was beautiful and sexy with the breeze tugging at her bun and more tendrils of her dark hair caressing her cheeks. Her jacket had been left open, and her silk blouse was now visible. She looked sensuously undone.

“Jake,” Alicia said breathlessly as soon as she saw him. She was still standing in the same spot near the wreath of flowers, looking tense and anxious, and he assumed she was waiting until she presumed the thugs had left in their car. But as soon as she caught sight of Jake, she moved toward him, appearing glad to see him and a little shaken.

He quickened his pace, trying to keep his expression neutral. But he was angry—furious with the bastards who had threatened her and none too happy with Alicia for dismissing him when he
knew
something like this could happen. Not to mention annoyed with himself for not forcing the issue and staying with her.

His eyes trailed down her body, but she didn’t appear to have been hurt. He took her hands and drew her into his arms. She trembled, and tears appeared in her eyes before she melted against him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a lot rougher than he’d intended as one arm curled around her waist and his free hand rubbed her back reassuringly.

She nodded, looked back at the wreath as if she was saying her good-byes to her mother, and then said with a shaky voice, “I’ve… I’ve never shot a man before.”

“He’ll live,” Jake said with sincere regret.

She walked with him in the direction of the parking lot. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I watched you enter the florist shop before I dropped my work off at the art gallery. I was worried that the man who hassled you at the restaurant might try again.” He took her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers. Her fingers tightened over his in a welcoming manner. “Do you live in Breckenridge?”

He didn’t like the idea that she might be in danger if she lived in the area and these thugs had easy access to her.

“No. I’m staying at a hotel for a few days. Just doing a job.”

He stopped and looked down at her, his brow deeply furrowed. “You aren’t
just
doing a job.”

Her chin lifted a little in defiance, her dark brown eyes narrowing. No argument there, which meant he was correct in his assumption. He had to remind himself she wasn’t a wolf. That she didn’t have a pack. That it shouldn’t matter what a human female had in mind to do.

But family took care of family. The thought kept nagging at him—where was her family? A father? Siblings? Anyone else? Why was she after these men all on her own? Why wasn’t anyone keeping tabs on her?

He assumed the judge had set a bail bond low enough that the men had been able to post bail. If they had skipped their court dates, as she assumed, she would be in danger while she trailed them.

“Admit it. Mario and the other man you mentioned, Danny Massaro, murdered your mother. It’s a vendetta,” he said quietly, but the undercurrent of warning was there. What she was doing was wrong, and it could get her killed.

“Not a vendetta,” she said icily. “I don’t plan to gun them down like they did my mother. Just return them to jail where they belong. Permanently.”

She tried to pull her hand free from his, but he wouldn’t let go. With his free hand, he swept the back of his hand down her cheek with a tender caress. “All right, not a vendetta then.” But he still couldn’t see how she planned to safely take these men into custody.

He wasn’t sure just what about her made his pulse race to such an extent, the way the heat of her hand penetrated his, the way he couldn’t put her out of his mind, stirring a need to be with her and to protect her that he was having a hard time quelling. The expression on her face, though rebellious, appealed to him. Hell, everything about her did.

Her short-waisted suit jacket hung open as if she’d been ready to remove it to dress in a more casual manner. But he knew that had to do with her having easy access to her gun, although the holstered weapon was still hidden. His gaze drifted down to where the ice-white silken blouse revealed the faint outline of her bra and a hint of lace, baring the sexier side of her outfit. Round pearl-button fasteners on her blouse captured his attention, and briefly, he wanted to touch them, to poke one after another through the slivers of their buttonholes, to see the rest of her as nature had intended.

She cleared her throat, and he returned his gaze to her face. A small smile tugged at her lips, and her brows lifted in a way that said she knew exactly where his thoughts had roamed.

Although he wanted this issue between them resolved—wanted her to
promise
him she wasn’t going any further with this futile effort to take down these men, when her hand rested on his shirt-covered chest, the vest now open and most of his shirt still unbuttoned because of hastily dressing, he thought she was going to push him away. Or at least try.