Werewolves in London (3 page)

The man had been in the house, he realized with a start as he flipped the burger onto a plate. He put a raw meat patty on the grill. How did that man get into his house?

The scariest thing was, what had happened to him? Was he dead? Why wasn’t he helping Elizabeth? Once caught, that man would be dead, that much he knew for sure. Murdering the son of a bitch sounded like a good idea.

“Hey, Daddy,” Elizabeth’s voice dropped him into the here and now. “It’s a full moon. You think another steer is going to die?”

“I don’t know, hon.”

Unknowingly, she managed to derail his morbid thoughts onto another little problem his ranch had. As if vandals breaking fences to get to his daughter wasn’t enough bad luck, for the past three months something, probably a wolf, had been gnawing on his herd. Each full moon brought another dead steer. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a werewolf, but those only existed in folklore. They couldn’t really exist.

If he stuck like barbed wire to the herd for the next three nights, he might catch the wolf, but what was the loss of another steer when compared to his daughter? Nope, he’d stay home where he could watch her. Maybe next month he’d catch the wolf, if the thing gnawed its way through another cow tonight.

“Daddy, where’d Sam go?” Elizabeth looked at him, her amber eyes reflecting the light. His mother’s eyes. Although the color was oddly like Vonda’s.

Damn. He had to think of her again. The fantasy started playing, an endless loop in his mind. Double damn. Elizabeth had asked him a question, he should be thinking with the head on his shoulders. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight?

“I’m not sure, honey. Why don’t you clear off the table and set it? I’m almost done over here.”

Dinner, Tom. Think of dinner not Vonda. Dinner. What about strawberries used to paint chocolate down her firm flesh, leading to...

He flipped the overcooked burger onto the plate, turned off the grill and slammed the spatula onto the cabinet. Elizabeth squeaked.

“Sorry, honey. It slipped.” Slipped in and out of hot, wet, warm flesh. In and out, over and over...

“You okay, Daddy?”

“Um, yeah. I have to go pee. I’ll be right back.”

Hoping Elizabeth didn’t see the bulge in his pants, he walked to the bathroom and slumped against the door. Taking himself in hand, he grasped the length of his dick and stroked. Once, twice and he came over his hand, teeth gritting against the pleasure. Well, whatcha know, the damn thing still worked.

Grabbing a tissue, he cleaned up the mess. He really needed to get control of himself. He couldn’t just run to the bathroom every five minutes like a horny teenager. Elizabeth would know something was wrong and this was one conversation he didn’t feel like having.

Yeah, honey, Daddy has the hots for the dog trainer, which causes him to have to jack off every so often, but it’s good to know the ole dick still works.
Uh-huh. Right.

He finished washing his hands and was reaching for the towel when the lights went out. What the hell? No storm or high winds were in the area. Maybe the fuse shorted for the bathroom. He’d have to go check.

Layla growled. Tom’s heart rate jacked up a notch. He’d owned the dog fourteen years and never once had she growled. Barked, yes, growled, never. Until now.

The doorknob slipped in his wet grasp. He used a corner of his shirt to twist the knob, managing to barely turn it when he heard Elizabeth scream. The scream died as flesh met flesh and a crash sounded. Oh, God, no. His nightmare had just begun.

Tom yanked the door open, rushing into the scene from his vision. The room was dark, dappled in moonlight filtering through the blinds, unlike his vision where the room seemed lighter.

He blinked, rage consuming him. When he opened his eyes, the room seemed brighter and he smelled blood and the sharp tang of terror. A chair lay on the floor, papers scattered everywhere. A huge man with a shaved head and more tats than a prisoner held Elizabeth, one hand clamped over her mouth, one muscle-bulging arm wrapped around her waist. Her feet pummeled his shins, but the blows meant nothing to the man.

Tom felt his lips peel over his teeth as a red film settled across his eyes. That son of a bitch hurt his daughter. He heard an inhuman howl echo through the kitchen and the skinhead’s eyebrows skimmed skyward. For a minute Tom wondered how Layla could make a noise like that, and then he realized it didn’t come from the dog, it came from him.

Odd, but then no one had ever tried to kidnap his little girl before.

His limbs tingled as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical outlet, energy pulsing through them. His muscles felt like they were growing, lengthening, becoming stronger. His teeth, especially the incisors, ached. His throat quivered as that inhuman howl broke out again. Elizabeth’s eyes widened.

He focused on her, noting how her eyes glanced behind him as she struggled to speak, her words muffled incoherently. A rush of air to his right caused him to turn, but he was too late. A heavy weight struck his head and he crumpled.

He heard Elizabeth’s muffled yells as he struggled against the darkness in his head. The front door banged shut and Tom knew he’d failed her. Darkness consumed him.

Chapter 3

Vonda saw the house from a distance.
Uh-oh.
It looked as if she’d been eating cattle from her newest client. That couldn’t be a good thing. Maybe Tom hadn’t noticed. It could happen.

Sam trotted along beside her, glancing at her occasionally from the corner of his eye. She hadn’t gathered anything else from his canine brain in their journey to the house. Just like a male to be the silent type.

In the distance she saw the house, shining like a lighthouse to a weary traveler. Her steps slowed. She was in wolf form and would be until morning. What would Tom do when he saw her? Shoot her? What was she thinking to trail after Sam like this?

Sam looked at her and Vonda felt his mind touch hers.

Hurry. Fear. Help.

Sam had a point. Even from this distance something seemed off. A discord in the harmony of nature. What the hell. If Tom needed her help she was all for it. Maybe afterward he’d repay her with sex. Yeah. That sounded like a great idea. He might be a bit freaked out when she changed, but he’d know she helped him and he’d throw her on the bed, thrusting inside her, and…

The lights shut off at the house, effectively throwing her out of her fantasy. Vonda stopped, startled by the sudden loss of light. Sam’s ears cocked forward as he sniffed the air. Vonda dragged a deep sniff in too, smelling the scents of evening along with a new scent.

Her nostrils flared. What was that? The smell triggered a response in the wolf’s brain that resonated in her body. Despite the fact she had never smelled that scent before, she knew what it was. It smelled like her. A mixture of magic and evergreen.

Werewolves.

What were werewolves doing here? Who cared about that, would they want to meet her? Where were they?

She scanned the perimeter of the house, looking for wolves, but all she saw were two men, one of them carrying what looked like a bundle of blankets in his arm. The bundle jerked and even from where she sat Vonda could see the man’s muscles bulge as he tightened his grip on his load. Sam growled.

Elizabeth.

Vonda looked at Sam and back at the men as they walked toward a car parked along the main road. She breathed in, thankful the wind carried the men’s scents to her and not hers to them. Sure enough, three different scents slammed into her nose, two werewolves and one scared girl. She should have picked up on that earlier.

Sam darted through the grass, heading toward the men, Vonda following. This was worse than she thought. She hadn’t imagined this when Sam came to her, telling of Tom’s fear.

These men were like her, she knew it, she smelled them. So why were they in human form? How could a werewolf stay in human form when the moon shone full and bright?

She’d have to ask, after she knocked their asses down for stealing a little girl. What kind of perverts were they? Taking a kid like that. Where was Tom?

Vonda didn’t care to think where he might be, or the condition he was in. She’d find Tom after she stopped these bastards.

Legs churning, she overtook Sam, passing him as if he were a turtle on a sunny day. If she didn’t get a move on those perverts would have that girl in their car. Good thing she ran faster than the average wolf, although that steer in her stomach slowed her down.

The giant man carrying Tom’s daughter laid her, blankets and all, in the backseat, and wrapped the seatbelt around her, while the other one got behind the wheel. Trying not to puke—not even a wolf should exercise after eating—Vonda sprinted toward the giant.

The car’s engine turned over, headlights splashing over the ground, blinding her. She veered out of the bright path, noting the giant stood watching her, one hand on the car door.

Vonda leapt, aiming for his throat. He took a step toward her, catching her around the neck and throwing her to the side. Vonda landed with a thud, the air knocked out of her. The vibration of his steps ran across her skin as he walked toward her but it was a little hard to move when she couldn’t breathe.

As quickly as it left, the air rushed into her lungs and she rolled, standing up even though her legs felt like they would collapse. Ears back, she snarled at Giant Pervert as his voice resonated in her ears.

“Where the fuck did you come from?”

“What is it, Big G?” The man from the car hopped out, staring at them.

She saw Sam leap at the man, slamming him into the car frame. The man let out a screech as he hit, the noise turning into a growl, followed by a yip.

Sam, danger! Get Tom!

A beefy hand clamped on the ruff of her neck, lifting her into the air. She put all four feet against GP’s chest and pushed as she snapped at his wrist.

Blood gushed from his arm and he dropped her with a curse. She darted out of his reach, eyeing him for any sudden movement.

Who the hell are you and why aren’t you a wolf? In case you didn’t notice the bloody moon’s full.

“Someone needs to teach you a lesson, bitch. Who’s your pack leader?”

Don’t have one. Why are you taking Elizabeth?

“Why don’t you have a pack leader?”

Because you’re the only werewolf I’ve met. Now give me back the girl and no one will get hurt.

His teeth flashed. “Funny one, aren’t you. In case you didn’t notice you’re a bit outnumbered. And you didn’t answer my question, who’s your leader?”

Maybe you’re just deaf. I said I’m my own leader, I answer to no one. Let me have Elizabeth, you perv.

His brows carved a row in his forehead as he ignored her request. “Seriously? You be telling the truth about no leader?”

Vonda stared at him.

“Well, well. Isn’t this interesting. Hey Jace, the bitch here has no leader.”

Vonda ventured a glance at Jace, and immediately wished she hadn’t when she saw Sam lying in the grass. She growled. Jace put up his hands.

“Hey, now, he attacked me. He’s not dead; don’t get your fur all ruffled.”

“What should we do with her? She shouldn’t be left alone.” GP looked worried.

I’m fine. Just give me back the girl. You perverted or something? What do you want with a little girl?

“I’m not no perv. That’s sick. You don’t understand our ways.”

Then explain them.
That should be interesting to hear, after all, she’d been waiting most of her life to hear some explanation of what she was and maybe the ensuing conversation would give Elizabeth enough time to unroll the blankets and jump out of the car.

Unfortunately, Jace possessed more brains than his skinhead friend and figured that little bit of info out on his own. Dammit.

“Big G, leave the bitch. We’ll find her later. Get in the car before things go to hell.”

In Vonda’s opinion, things had already arrived. How much worse could they get?

Jace gestured at Big G and slipped behind the wheel.

Big G scratched his bald head. “I hate leaving you here. Wolves should run together. Don’t worry. We’ll come back for you.” He walked to the car and waggled his fingers at her.

Vonda followed, trotting to the driver’s side. She might be able to open the door and pull Elizabeth out. But again, her plan was foiled by Jace who gunned the engine before Big G had time to shut his door.

Vonda started running, chasing after the car for all she was worth, mortified she just let a child be kidnapped by a couple of werewolves. At least she had their scents imprinted on her brain. She’d be able to track them.

****

Tom woke with a headache, a constant pounding in his ears. Why was he on the floor? And then it rushed back with a sickening thud, a crushing weight on his ribs. He’d failed Elizabeth. They took his daughter and he couldn’t stop them. Tears stung his eyes as his breath caught in his throat. Her life from infancy until now flashed in his mind, each picture generating another invisible sucker punch to the chest.

The cops. He had to call the cops.

Slamming his palms against the floor, he pushed himself to all fours, the room spinning as if he were drunk. As he leveraged himself to his feet, the room stopped its merry-go-round dance. Why was the room so bright?

Light poured in from between the blinds, flooding the room. Had he really been unconscious for the remainder of the night? He heard a motor rev and ran toward the window, peering between the slats of the blinds, his eyes blinking in the car’s headlights.

Elizabeth must be in that car. Screw the police. If the kidnappers were sitting outside, he would take care of them himself. It wasn’t too late to kill the bastards that took her.

He ran to the door, and saw the gun case with his rifle standing against the wall. Yeah, capping the bastards in their asses sounded like a great idea. Problem was, the case was locked and damn it if he couldn’t remember where the keys were. Like he had time to find the fuckers.

Wrapping his hand in his shirttail, he slammed his fist through the glass, imagining it was the kidnappers’ faces. Shards sprinkled around his feet. Tom grabbed some ammo and with shaking hands slammed it into the rifle and pulled the bolt.