Hunter's Heart: Wolf Shifter Romance (Wild Lake Wolves Book 5) (3 page)

Chapter Three

“Jessa.”

No. Ugh. No. I just wanted to sleep. Groaning, I
rolled to my side and reached for the covers. Ten more minutes.

“Jessa!”

My eyes snapped open. I blinked hard, trying to
focus. Two black boots faced toward me, inches from my face. My head rested on hardwood.
Dust everywhere. I sneezed. That’s when I realized my hands were tied tightly
behind me. My feet bound at the ankles. I lay on my side on wooden floorboards.
Flickering light from a pair of three-wick candles burned in the corner.

Derek Monroe crouched down and peered into my face.
His pupils narrowed, those amber eyes glinted.

Shit.

I rolled to my back, wincing as my weight landed on
my bound wrists. I twisted away, trying to sit up. Pins and needles flowed
through my wrists down to my fingertips. Derek put his hands on my shoulders;
his fingertips radiated heat straight through my spine, taking my breath away.
Gently, but firmly, he pulled me up to a sitting position. I scooted backward,
pushing off with my bound feet until I butted up against the far wall.

Derek squatted before me, his right arm dangling
over his knee. He held his left arm against his chest. Blood still oozed from
the wound on his left shoulder but even in the dim light, I could see the edges
of torn flesh had started to close. How was that possible? Dad’s special
bullets should have kept him on the ground immobile. He never should have been
able to get up again.

“Feeling better, Jessa?” he asked. His voice was
rich and deep, just like I’d imagined. My pulse quickened as I surveyed my
surroundings. We were in an empty house. Old, with faded wallpaper with looping
flower patterns. It might have been yellow or pink long ago. Now, it was dingy
gray like everything else in here. Probably one of the abandoned farmhouses off
County Road 14. I could still hear highway noises through the open window
behind Derek’s head. Would anyone hear me if I screamed? Maybe. But it likely
wouldn’t matter. Derek might have been wounded, but he’d still managed to
overpower me quick enough and bring me here.

“How do you know my name?” I asked the safest
question I could think of.

Derek smiled and reached into his back pocket. He
held my phone up. Shit. So he knew everything. He must have pressed my finger
to the touch screen when he had me knocked out to unlock it. What else had he
done to me? Nothing hurt except the strain where he bound my wrists with
plastic zip ties.

“Okay,” I said. “So now what?”

Derek stood. God, he was big. My gaze went up and
up, and I had to crane my neck to stay on his face. He walked to the other side
of the room and leaned against the wall. He scrolled through my phone, amusement
dancing in his eyes.

“This me?” he said, turning the screen toward me;
he’d pulled up the picture I took of the spec sheet Dad had on him. Basic
stuff. Height. Weight. The color of his wolf. Where he’d been last seen. And
Dad journaled Derek’s movements over the last few days.

“Pretty much,” I said.

“Why?” he asked. “What are you after?”

I cocked my head to the side. Did he legitimately
not know? Derek Monroe might be extra strong for a wolf, but he seemed a little
dense. “What do you mean what am I after? That hole in your chest didn’t make
it clear?”

Derek rolled his left shoulder. He tried to hide it,
but I could tell the movement caused him agony. For an instant, his eyes
flashed gold as his wolf flared to life. Fire shot through me. I started to
sweat. I was afraid. Of course I was. But there was something else going on
too. I felt drawn to him. Like some invisible rubber band bound me to him. I
had to be losing it, but the air grew colder the further he moved away from me.
Then, when he pushed himself off the wall and came closer, warmth flooded
through me and my nerve endings seemed to crackle.

“Someone sent you to kill me. Who? Why?”

I opened my mouth to say something but couldn’t form
words. I just clamped my jaw shut and looked at the ground. Think, Jessa.
Think. What leverage did I have?

“Did you really think I’d be that easy to kill?”

“I’m having an off day,” I said. The words just
seemed to spill out now. “Why don’t you tell
me
what you’re doing here
in Banchory. Are you lost? Did your pack drive you out?”

“Jessa Lyle,” he said, turning the phone back toward
me. He’d pulled up my Facebook profile. My cover photo was one of my Dad and me
posing under the Lyle Salvage Yard sign after we’d repainted it. Brutus had
jumped up and had her paws on my shoulders. I was laughing. Dad took a wide
stance with his hands on his hips as if all he needed was a superhero cape.
Goofy. His bald head gleamed in the sun, but he looked tough. Weathered skin
with hard muscles and a trim waist.

Derek turned the screen and studied the photograph.
“Lyle. Wait a minute. Is that Tinker Lyle? Are you Tinker Lyle’s daughter?” He
said my father’s name as if it burned in his mouth like acid. There was no
point in denying it. He held the evidence in the palm of his hand.

“Yesss. I’m Tinker’s daughter. So now you know what
I was doing out there tonight. And you also know I wasn’t on my own.”

“Wolf killer,” Derek said. He switched the phone off
and put it in his back pocket. “We’ve heard of Tinker as far as Wild Lake.”

Wild Lake? I knew a pocket of wolf packs lived up
there near the Canadian border. Again though, Derek’s mere presence here in
Ohio made him a threat. The Kentucky wolves were within their rights to kill
him if he tried to cross the river. “So why don’t you head on back there? Your
kind doesn’t belong in my state, Derek.”

Derek’s eyes widened as he realized of course I knew
as much about him as he knew about me. “My kind. My
kind
? What kind of
bedtime stories has old Tinker been telling you?”

“Not stories. You’re a killer. There’s no good
reason for someone like you to have crossed the boundary lines. Ohio is No
Man’s Land for wolves. Surely you’re not that stupid that you don’t already
know that.”

Derek snapped his jaw. Human still, his wolf
simmered just below the surface and his growl vibrated across the floorboards.
My breath stuck in my throat as he crouched back down and came within inches of
my face. His hot breath blew along my cheek. He bared his teeth, and that low,
vibrating growl seemed to come from everywhere. Fresh blood started to pour
from the wound near his shoulder.

That wound should have closed by now. Which meant
the toxin
was
doing its job. But why was it taking so long in Derek?
What made him different? For the first time since I came to, I started to think
maybe I wasn’t entirely fucked.

“So that’s who sent you? One of the Kentucky packs?”

“I don’t work for wolves, Derek. We take care of our
own down here. When killers like you get out of line, I take care of it. My
father
takes care of it.”

“Yeah? Then where is he? Where’s the great, deadly
Tinker Lyle? Didn’t see him hiding in the trees when I knocked you out. Nobody
followed me when I brought you out here. You’re on your own, aren’t you, Jessa?
Nobody’s looking for you.”

My heart thundered in my chest. It wasn’t true, but
something else made my blood run cold. It was late. Very late. Was it past
midnight? Oh, God. What was going to happen when I didn’t show up at the Depot
bar with proof I’d finished the contract? The Harlan brothers were going to come
looking for my father. He was in no position to deal with them, and Grammy was
liable to shoot them on sight. Gunther and Jeff were one thing, but if Grammy
got the entire Harlan family after us, they’d burn the yard to the ground.
Likely with Dad and Grammy tied up inside.

I had to figure out a way to get out of this. Derek
started to sweat. His eyes lost focus for an instant, but he put a hand on the
ground and steadied himself. I knew what was happening. This was the toxin at
work, however long it was taking.

“You’re wrong about that,” I said. “You think my
father would have sent me out on a job without backup? You’re a dead man, Derek
Monroe. One way or another. And you should be.”

He rubbed his thumb across his brow. Sweat dripped
from his temple. “What did you do to me?”

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

“What did you
do
to me?” Derek lunged at me.
Grabbing me by the shoulders, he hauled me to my feet. The air between us
seemed charged. He held me like that, his eyes locked with mine. His fingers
seared through my flesh. Fear heated my blood, but something else too.

Desire.

Oh, God. No. No. No. My insides seemed to liquefy as
he stared into my eyes. I felt boneless, weightless. Wildfire seared through
me, settling low in my core and to points lower down. His touch made me burn
for him, short-circuiting logic.

“Let me go.” I choked the words out. This was wrong.
Horrible. I shouldn’t feel this way when he touched me. The only good wolf was
a dead one. I’d known that since before I could talk.

“Let me go!” I shouted into his face. “Let me go or
finish what you started. Get it over with!” God, I wished my hands and feet
were free. I wanted to shove him, claw at him, pull him toward me.

Derek reared back as if I’d slapped him. His eyes
went wide. He let me go. With my ankles bound together, I lost my balance and
dropped to my knees. My chest heaving with ragged breaths, I knelt before him.
Derek took a staggering step back. It was the poison. Of course it was. But I
sensed something else with it. If I had to name it, it seemed like his reaction
to touching me shocked him as much as mine had.

Impossible. This couldn’t be. He was a wolf. I was a
Lyle. Without me, he’d be free to wreak chaos and terror on the town. It’s what
he was. It’s what he did. What all wolves did.

“Jessa.” The way he said my name. It tore through
his throat as if it caused him pain. He knelt on the ground in front of me. He
lifted his hand but didn’t touch me. He dropped them to his side and clenched
his jaw.

“Jessa. Look at me.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Jessa, look at me!”

My eyes snapped up and locked with his. I wished I
could shoot fire out of mine. Hurt him. Push him away. Get him out of my head.

“I’m not a killer. At least, not the way you think.”

“Bullshit.”

Derek lifted his palms, stretching his arms out wide
in surrender. It didn’t matter. Bound as I was, I couldn’t touch him. I saw my
gun then. He turned slightly, and I saw where he’d tucked it into the waistband
of his jeans. So close. And I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. I wished just
once I had strength like he did. I could tear through the zip ties and get to
my weapon. I could end this once and for all.

“Jessa, think. If I’m a killer, then why are you
still alive? Huh? You fucking
shot
me. You admitted that’s what
you
were there for. If I wanted you dead, you would be.”

“You want something from me.” The truth of my words
struck terror through me. Grammy. I closed my eyes, and the edges of her scars
seemed to hover there. They got her. The wolves got her. She swore she’d never
let anything like that happen to me as long as she lived. But, she wasn’t here
now. Only I was. Nothing stood between this killer wolf and me now. It felt
childish, I know. But I felt if I opened my eyes again, that would be the end.
Derek would make his move and tear me limb from limb.

Except, why hadn’t he already done it?

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “Jessa. Open
your eyes and look at me.”

I did. Derek’s eyes gutted me. Not cold. Not deadly.
His were warm and wide. Begging me to believe him. God, he was good. Dad
trained me to respect werewolf strength. But, he never told me how mentally
cunning they could be. I’d never been alone with one before. Not like this. Not
talking. Not . . . human. Which was all the more reason I knew I needed to fear
for my life.

“What do you want from me?”

Derek let out a sigh. “Answers. That’s all. Just
answers. Tell me who sent you and why they want me dead.”

“And then what?”

“Well, I suppose that depends on you. Are you
planning to try and shoot me again?”

I didn’t answer. I pursed my lips together and
looked at the ground. I wasn’t as good as Derek was. I knew he’d see the truth
in my eyes.

“Well, then I guess neither of us is going anywhere
for a while,” he said. Settling back on the floor, he sat cross-legged in front
of me.

“I guess not.”

He looked me up and down and raised an inquisitive
brow, the one with the scar cutting through it. “You might want to stop
kneeling like that, then. It’s bad for your knees.”

Derek reached out, presumably to help me sit without
toppling over. He never made it that far. His eyes grew hooded then widened in
fear and understanding as the toxin finally started to make its way into his
bloodstream.

“Son of a bitch,” he whispered just before he
toppled over and his head hit the ground.