Destiny of the Wolf

Chapter 6

LELANDI OPENED HER EYES AND BRILLIANT WHITE LIGHTS flooded her vision. Where was the ceiling fan in her bedroom? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to orient herself. The odor of antiseptics filled the air. Her eyes popped open. White sheets, railings caging her in on an elevated narrow bed. What the...

She tried to reach up, to rub her temple as her thoughts spun out of control, but she couldn’t. Leather restraints wrapped around her wrists pinned her to the bed—not the man of her dreams.

Her sister. Oh, God, and her parents, too, were dead.

Tears filled her eyes and her heart lodged like a lump of stone in her throat. She sobbed with a strangled whimper and a teary haze blurred her vision. Yanking at the restraints, she fought the mounting frustration, her body heating by degrees.

Closing her eyes, she licked her dry lips. What she wouldn’t give for an icy pink lemonade. Summer heat had returned with a vengeance, and she felt like she’d been burned to a crisp under the broiling sun like she had at the beach in South Padre Island a few years back.

A rustling noise caught her attention—Silva searching through Lelandi’s purse.

Silva smiled, her ruby lips glistening with fresh gloss, a coating of brown eye shadow emphasizing the darkness of her coffee-colored eyes. “No driver’s license. How’d you get to Silver Town? No rental cars unaccounted for. Deputy Sheriff Trevor checked the cars parked around town, and none belong to a Larissa Catterton.”

It finally dawned on Lelandi. Her sister had switched first names with her. What a mess. “Catterton?”

Silva tsked. “So that wasn’t Lelandi’s last name.”

No, and Lelandi wasn’t her first name either, although no one had listened to her the times she’d corrected them before.

“So what is your real last name?” Silva poured a cup of ice water for her, then set it on the table.

With her wrists secured, Lelandi couldn’t reach the water. “Lelandi.” She wasn’t about to reveal her real last name. “I’m... I’m burning up.”

Silva’s eyes widened, and she hurried over to the bed. Her long, icy fingers touched Lelandi’s forehead, instantly sending a chili streaking down her heated nerves. “You’re burning up.”

“I already said that,” Lelandi whispered, annoyed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get some help.”

“Can you unfasten my chains,” Lelandi said sarcastically. “help me to sit up, and give me some ice water to drink?”

Silva shifted her worried gaze to the wristbands confining her. “I’ll get the doc.”

“Doctor Weber,” Lelandi said, firmly.

“Uhm, you’re at the hospital in Silver Town, sugar. I’m sure Doctor Weber wouldn’t want to come all the way here from wherever you know him for one little ol’ patient.”

Lelandi yanked at the leather wrist bracelets to no avail.

If it had been a regular hospital, they probably would have used Velcro restraints, and those she could have tugged loose. She pulled at the restraints again, rattling the bed railings, but her movements were dulled and of no use, making her skin heat even more.

Satisfied Lelandi wasn’t getting loose, Silva left the room. Within minutes, her worried voice echoed down the hall while she spoke to someone about the fever. But before she or the doctor returned, a woman wearing blue scrubs walked into the room.

“I’m Nurse Grey.” The woman’s face was matronly, with kindly gray eyes and lips that were pale, but slightly turned up. “Looks like you’ve been rather cantankerous.”

“Not me.” Lelandi mumbled.

The nurse chuckled, the sound good-hearted, while she read Lelandi’s chart. “Busy girl. Heard some wild rumors. You’re looking into your sister’s death and already stirred up a heap of trouble.”

Lelandi had made a royal mess of it, but whoever had killed her sister was bound to slip up. When he did, she’d make him suffer for what he’d done. She closed her burning eyes.

“Seems a lot of trouble for a little red lupus garou to get into first time in Silver Town.”

Although the woman seemed nice enough. Lelandi didn’t trust her. Lelandi was probably giving their pack leader prime grade heartburn, and she wasn’t going away. Some would be wary, some outright rude, and some, sweet like Sam. Silva, and this Nurse Grey, but only on the surface. Deep down, pack mates stuck up for pack mates, and she was an outsider investigating them.

Tom was another story. He definitely indicated he had the hots for her, but she wasn’t biting.

“If you’ll behave, I’ll remove the restraints.” After Nurse Grey took her temperature, she frowned. “Hundred and three.” She changed her antibiotics and removed the restraints.

Lelandi let out a low growl, and the woman smiled. Yeah, wolves didn’t like confinement, and she was ready to bite anyone who’d helped restrain her, including Ritka and the doctor.

“Doc wants you to drink fluids, but slowly. You might feel nauseous from the surgery and pain medication.”

“Nurse Grey,” Silva said, walking into the room. “I thought you were off today and tomorrow.”

The nurse shrugged. “I thought so, too. Seems we had some trouble during the night.”

Lelandi hid a smile, then sipped cold water from a straw, shivered, and slumped back under her covers. If she didn’t get more energy soon, she’d scream.

“She sure isn’t like Lelandi.” Silva studied her as if she could see her insides, too.

Nurse Grey refilled Lelandi’s water cup. “Looks the same, except for the hair.”

“Can you imagine Lelandi taking on Ritka and her gang?”

The nurse smiled. “Guess I ought to go to the Silver Town Tavern more often. Sam said when he saw her walk into the joint, he knew it would shake Darien out of the pit of despair he’s been wallowing in.”

“Yeah, but in a good way, or bad?” Silva raised her brows to punctuate her statement. “You should have seen the way he kissed her.”

Nurse Grey glanced at Lelandi. “Already?”

“Hell, he wanted to kiss her in the tavern, but he was trying to keep up appearances.” Silva pushed her hair back over her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips. “She started talking about lupus garou, and he had to stop her. But the kiss lasted longer than necessary and made her pass right out. I’m sure when the other eligible bitches hear about it. they’ll be fuming.”

Nurse Grey’s eyes sparkled with intrigue.

“So, is she going to be all right?”

“When are we not? She’ll be fine. However, the fever makes it more of a setback. I notice on the chart, Doc says he’ll release her tomorrow. Might be too soon.”

“She should be in jaii for popping Ritka in the eye,”

a dark-haired man said as he strode into the room, his

eyes black, his police khaki uniform perfectly pressed,

a jacket slung over his shoulder. His Stetson shaded his

eyes, giving him an even darker-tempered appearance.

Silva smiled at him. Well, more than smiled at him, nearly melted in his presence.

Truly smitten. Lelandi wondered if the same love bug had bitten him or if it was only a one-way street. He didn’t show the same kind of moonstruck attraction when he iooked at Silva.

“Why, Trevor. you done with that mess on the highway7” Silva asked, her voice sweet as spun sugar.

“Sheriff chewed my butt for not taking care of her mess.” He jerked a thumb in Lelandi’s direction. “Said shootings take priority over mud slides. Hell, they needed someone to reroute traffic. Four accidents out there. Six injuries. -

‘Silva stuck up for you when she didn’t need to. Lelandi glowered back at the deputy. Silva’s mouth dropped open. Seems you owe her thanks. No one else bothered to defend your actions.”

Trevor shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to glare at Lelandi. “Who was the man who shot you?”

She closed her eyes. Question the bastard! How would she know who he was?

“He shot you In the chest twice—”

“Three times.” she said, her breathing still ragged, “but whos counting?”

“You’re one of us, well, kinda, and you can see as well as we can In the dark, so who was he?”

Silva tshed. “Cant you question her later, when she’s not so bad oft’?”

Trevor’s face reddened. “That’s another thing.” he said, his voice elevating. “Who the hell shot him dead, and why didn’t anyone question him first?”

Silva cleared her throat. “Trevor, we’ve given the sheriff our statements. Someone shot him from a distance. We never saw who it was, and after he did the deed, he never came down to see if Sam was all right. Unless he did, but Just blended with the men who came to Investigate the shots fired. The word Is Darien might be so mad at whoever the shooter was for not Just wounding the gunman, the guy’s not telling.”

“Yeah, anyone would be afraid Darien would be pissed, especially the way he’s been acting lately.”

“Did anyone tell you that you’ll be guarding us at my place?” Silva asked, her tone sweet and innocent.

Trevor scowled at her. “Babysitting?”

“Never know. Trouble seems to follow her. You could be in the thick of it this time.”

Nurse Grey shook her head. ‘You can’t mean the young lady will be going to your town house, Silva. She needs to remain here.’

“I think Doc’s worried the hospital isn’t secure enough for her.

“Jail cell will do the job.” Trevor shoved his hat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Ah. Trevor.” Silva furrowed her brow at him.

“Hell, I saw how she beat up Rltka.

Lelandi smiled. The woman couldn’t have been more outraged when paramedics wheeled Lelandi into the hospital. Luckily. the doctor ordered two men to watch over her. making sure Ritka didn’t finish what the gunman had begun.

“Hell, look at the way shes smiling about it. No remorse or anything. Criminal behavior if I ever saw it.”

“They started it,” Silva argued. “Three against one, and every one of them is bigger than her.”

“Ritka said this one started it to prove she’s after Darien, like her sister had been.”

‘Ha! Darien did the chasing. Hell. Lelandi didn’t stand a chance.”

Trevor’s face grew crimson again. “I’ve got work to do. straightening out this mess. Then I guess I’ve got babysitting duty later.”

Lelandi swore he looked hopeful something bad would happen so he’d get in on the real action this time and be able to prove to his boss how important he was.

He stalked out.

I’ve got to check on Tom, but if she needs anything, just holler,” Nurse Grey said, then left.

“Guess Ii’s just you and me, kid. Silva sat in the vinyl chair against the wall. “You look like you can barely stay awake. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“My sister didn’t chase Darien?” Lelandi squeaked, hating that her voice was so out of control like the rest of her.

‘Hardly. Darien doesn’t like women who chase him. He likes to do the pursuing.” Silva leaned back in the chair and rolled her sun-streaked chestnut hair between two fingers.

She really was a striking woman and Lelandi wondered why Darien didn’t seem attracted to her.

Silva smiled. “So if you’re interested in getting his attention, don’t go hunting him down.”

‘Wouldn’t think of It.” Lelandi wanted to roll onto her stomach, the way she normally slept, but she couldn’t with the IV in place. Plus, she had a sneaking suspicion her wounds would give her fits if she tried.

“On the other hand, if you want him to leave you alone...”

Lelandi stopped struggling with her thin white cotton blanket and looked over at Silva.

‘Act really interested in him.”

“Not happening.” This time Lelandi’s words came out loud and clear, to both her surprise and Silva’s amusement.

‘Uh-huh, well your choice.”

Listen.” Lelandi ‘s voice did the raspy, hoarse bit again. “I’m here for one thing only. Finding out who killed my sister and why. and terminating him. I’m not interested in some alpha gray pack leader who just buried his mate who happened to be my triplet. End of story.”

DESTINY of the WOLF

Werewolf Series – Book 1

By TERRY SPEAR

Chapter 1

WHY HAD LARISSA, HER LOVING SISTER, ENDED UP DEAD — here, of all the godforsaken places In the States? Maybe that was the reason—off the beaten path, surrounded by wilderness, a place to hide from the harsh realities of the forced marriage, safe from Bruin’s retaliation should he ever have located her. But she hadn’t been safe. And now she was dead.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lelandi Wildhaven thought she saw her cousin. Ural, slink into the woods in his wolf form, but she had to be mistaken. He wouldn’t be angry enough with her to shapeshift this close to Silver Town and risk alerting the gray lupus garou pack that a couple of reds had slipped into their territory.

Ignoring her gut Instinct telling her this was a very bad Idea, she pushed open the Silver Town Tavern’s heavy door, the squealing of the rusty hinges jarrlng her taut nerves.

Five bearded men sitting at a table turned to stare at her, and at once she feared the worst—they saw straight through her disguise.

She shoved the faux eyeglasses back into place, hating the way they kept sliding down the bridge of her nose. The weather-beaten cowboy hat she’d picked up at a resale shop half swallowed her head, making her look like a little kid wearing her dad’s Stetson.

Amber glass lights hanging from brass rods high above softly illuminated dark oak tables and a long, polished bar. Slow-spinning wooden fan blades circulated the air, impregnated with the smell of gray lupus garou. Her nerve endings prickled with fresh awareness. Dingy antique mirrors covering the back wall behind the bar bore mute witness to the goings-on in the place, as she suspected they had for decades. If they had captured all the images of the bars existence what a story those mirrors could tell.

Another bearded man crouching beneath the lip of the bar suddenly stood to his full six-foot-four height. The glass and dish towel he held nearly slipped from his grasp as his appraising glance took in every inch of her. His lips turned up at the corners slightly. Deep laugh lines were etched in his tanned skin and shaggy black hair extended to his shoulders, giving him the appearance of a rugged mountain man, unused to civilized trappings. What disturbed her most was that he was a gray, like the men drinking at the table. She’d anticipated it would be a human-run establishment frequented by lupus garous, like the bar back home.

“What’ Ii you have, miss?” he asked, his voice warm and welcoming.

Expecting a chilly greeting—their kind didn’t welcome strangers venturing into their midst, especially If she were human and this was an exclusively gray lupus garou tavern—she hesitated.

“Miss?”

“Bottled water, please.” She’d meant to sound tough, to match the look of the place. She’d intended to be someone different, with her red hair dyed black and the high-heeled boots giving the impression she stood taller, more like them. The blue contacts she wore hid her green eyes sufficiently, but she still felt like Lelandi, triplet to Larissa, with barely any visible difference In appearance, except her eyes were greener and her hair more red and less golden than her sister’s had been. Had her voice betrayed her?

The small smile on the bartender’s face was more likely because she was a stranger who’d walked into a wolves’ den without protection than because she’d given herself away. She cursed herself for not disguising her voice better, but the barkeep’s warm demeanor gave her a false sense of security, which could be the death of her if she wasn’t careful.

The bartender handed her a chilled bottle of water and tall green glass. “New in town?”

Just passing through.” she said, paying for the water.

“Sam’s the name, miss. If you need anything. just holler.”

“Thanks.” Hollering for a drink was definitely not her style.

She chose a table in the farthermost corner of the room, half-hidden in shadows. Although any of them could see in the dark as well as she could, this location would keep her out of the main flow of traffic. She hoped she’d seem inconspicuous, not worthy of anyone’s scrutiny, and most of all, human.

Lelandi glanced at the door. According to her information, Darien Silver—Larissa’s widowed mate— should be here soon.

One of the men got up from his seat and gave Sam some cash. The man cast Lelandi a hint of a smile, then returned to his chair. Small for a gray, stocky. hair a bland brown, eyes amber, his clothes carrying a coating of dust, he had a soft, round baby face. Looked sweet, a beta-wolf type. Smudges of dirt colored his cheeks, and he wiped them off with the back of his denim shirtsleeve. His eyes never straying from her, he smoothed out his raggedy hair and took another swig of his beer.

Sam joined Lelandi and handed her the cash. Joe Kelly paid for your drink, miss. He works at the silver mine, which explains his slightly rough appearance. But he cleans up good.” Sam gave her a wink, and returned to the bar.

Should she turn down Joe’s offer? On the other hand, if he was interested in her, maybe she could discover the truth quicker.

“Thank you,” she mouthed to Joe Kelly and his chest swelled.

The other guys started ribbing him in low voices. The tips of Joe’s ears turned crimson.

Her stomach clenched with the notion that Larissa had had the audacity to mate with a gray, especially when she had a mate already. She’d said she wanted to find herself, and she did. Six feet under. Yet, Lelandi couldn’t help feeling it was her own fault, that if she’d taken Larissa’s place back home, or even run away with her, she might have kept her safe. But what about their parents? She couldn’t have left them behind—not with her dad so incapacitated—but hell, she hadn’t been able to protect them either. They had been murdered anyway.

She tamped down a shudder, hating that she hadn’t stopped any of it. But once she learned what had happened to Larissa and put the murderer in his grave. Lelandi was going to locate her brother and their uncle— damn both of them for leaving the family behind.

The barkeep clinked some glasses, his gaze taking her in like a crafty old wolf’s. He probably was on the younger side of middle age but due to the beard, he seemed older. The smile still percolated on his lips. Trying to figure her out? Or did he realize what a phony she was? Hunting in the wild was nothing new, but hunting like this...

She twisted the top off her bottled water and glanced down at her watch again. Only four twenty-five.

“Waiting for someone?” Sam asked, one dark brow cocked.

She shook her head. Her hat jiggled, her glasses slipped, and the annoying earrings danced.

Two men appeared in front of one of the dingy tavern windows and then the door jerked open. Her heart skittered.

“Hey, Sam! Bring us a pitcher of beer.” one of them called.

About six-foot—as tall as her brother—with windswept shoulder-length dark hair and a newly started beard, his amber eyes hinted at cheerfulness and good-humor rang in his words. Both men wore leather jackets, plaid shirts, denims, cowboy hats, and boots, and they appeared to be twins. Multiple births abounded among lupus garous, so no surprise there. They looked like they were mid- to late- twenties and walked into the place like they owned the joint.

“Jake, Tom.” Sam glanced in her direction, alerting them to the presence of a stranger.

She stiffened her back and gripped her glass tighter.

Tom—his hair the lighter of the two, longer, curling around his broad shoulders, his face smooth as silk— fastened his gaze on her and raised his brows, tipped back his Stetson, and grinned.

Self-conscious, her whole body heated and alarm bells rang. Keep a low profile!

Tom took a deep breath as If he were love-struck. “The place looks a might better tonight, Sam. Done some nice redecorating.”

The bearded one furrowed his dark brows. “Didn’t you tell her it’s a private club and no matter what, that table is reserved?”

“Bending the rules today. First come, first served.” Sam grinned and winked at Lelandi.

Damn. Was this where Darien normally sat? She thought he’d sit in the center, so everyone could see their leader. That’s the way Bruin did it back home.

Now what? Move? To where? If she moved to the table across from Darien’s, she feared she’d draw too much attention. Not that she expected anyone to hurt her here, but she had thought she’d be able to keep a low profile. The tables situated on the other side of the bar sat in front of the restrooms. Anywhere else was too near the front door or in the middle of the floor, and no matter what, she wanted to have her back to the wall. She wasn’t leaving until she’d had a chance to observe the leader and as many of his pack members as she could, any one of whom might have murdered Larissa.

Tom grabbed the pitcher of beer and a glass. “Come on, Jake. Change is good for the soul.” He stalked over to the table opposite her and sat where he could see both the front door and, most of all, her.

Immersed in a goldfish bowl, she wondered what had made her think she could enter the wolves’ lair without arousing suspicion.

Jake sat with his back to the wall to have a better view of the door. If he wanted to look her over, he’d have to turn his head and be pretty obvious about it. He did. The expression on his face was dark and foreboding. Gone was the humor his features had held when he first walked into the place.

Laughing and boisterous, three more men barged into the tavern, glanced to where Jake and Tom sat, then shifted their attention to Lelandi. Which meant what? That Jake and Tom normally sat with Darien at the table where she was now sitting?

Terrific!

Howdy, boys, the older bearded man of the group said, nodding a greeting. The other two were nearly as old, gray streaking their brown beards, their gazes pinned on her. “Bring us the usual, Sam. - He turned to Jake and pointed his head at her. “He know about this?”

“Still giving orders at the factory, Mason.” Tom said.

The bearded man grumbled. “Fourth of July’s coming for a second time this year.”

Figuring she’d be better off sitting next to the restrooms to lessen the chance of creating fireworks. Lelandi grabbed her purse.

The door banged open again. The chatter died.

As soon as she saw him, she knew it was him—not only because silence instantly cloaked the room and every eye in the place watched Darien Silver’s reaction. His sable hair curled at the top edge of his collar. Brooding dark eyes. grim lips, features handsomely rugged, but definitely hard, defined him. Wearing a leather Jacket, western shirt, Jeans, and boots, everything was as black as his somber mood. He looked so much like Tom and Jake. she figured they must be triplets, and he was the leader of the gray lupus garou in the area. Had to be, the way everyone watched him, waiting for the fireworks.

Something about him stirred her blood, something akin to recognition, yet she’d never seen him before in her life. It wasn’t his face, or clothes, or body that stimulated some deep memory—but the way he moved— commanding, powerful, with an effortless grace.

He glanced at the barkeep and gave a nod of greeting—sullen, silent, still in mourning for his mate? If he discovered why Lelandi was here, he’d be pissed.

A shiver trickled down her spine. She released her purse and kept her seat, for the moment. Everyone was acting so oddly, she imagined that was the reason he quickly surveyed the current seating arrangement. When his eyes lit on her, incredulity registered.

Crap! He recognized her: she just knew it. Didn’t matter that she had dyed her hair this horrible color that didn’t do anything for her fair skin, or that her eyes were now blue. Didn’t matter that the heavy padded leather Jacket gave her broader shoulders and made her appear heavier, or that she wore her hair straight as blades of uncut grass, compliments of a hair straightening iron, when her sister’s and hers was naturally curly. She couldn’t hide the shape of her face or eyes or mouth. All of them mirrored her sister’s looks.

Then again, his look was puzzled. The hat and glasses appeared to confuse him. Maybe the fact that she wore the faux pierced earrings that looked like the real thing did too.

She broke eye contact first, her skin sweaty, her hands trembling. God, he was more wolf than she was used to dealing with—broader-shouldered and taller. His eyes locked onto hers with sinful determination, no backing down, no compromise. No wonder Larissa had fallen for the attention-grabbing gray. Lelandi couldn’t help wondering how a romp with a virile wolf like him would feel. But damn if it hadn’t gotten Larissa killed. Stick with your own kind, that’s what her father would have said. No humans, lupus garou only… the red variety.

Everyone remained deathly quiet—no one lifted a mug to take a sip of a drink, no one moved a muscle. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to look at Darien, to see what he was doing now.

Still staring at her. She wanted to sink into the floor like mop water on a hot day. She gritted her teeth, lifted her glass of water, and took another swig, hoping she wouldn’t inadvertently choke on the icy drink out of nervousness. But she wasn’t leaving Silver Town until she avenged Larissa’s death.

Darien glanced at Sam. who shrugged a shoulder and handed him an empty glass. If Darien wanted her out of his chair, he would have to move her.

Macho gang leaders had to show they were in charge, particularly when it came to their territory, and no one, especially women, upstaged them. There were none more notorious for this than lupus garous. No one challenged them and got away with it, unless another lupus garou was trying to take over the pack, and won.

She wasn’t part of his pack. She wasn’t a male. And she wasn’t a gray. What’s worse, she looked like his dead mate. On the other hand, it appeared he wasn’t sure of what he was seeing.

The eyes that latched onto her again were cold, yet sorrow was reflected in them, too. He jerked the glass off the counter and headed to where Jake and Tom sat. He forced Toni to move to the chair with his back to the door, giving Darien a better view of both her and the entrance.

How could she observe the pack members if the leader kept an eye on her? Even now, she was certain he could smell her fear. She told herself she wasn’t afraid of him, but any lupus garou who was worth his pelt would take heed when confronting a pack leader.

Frozen with indecision, she remained seated. What the hell, let him think she was too afraid to move from her chair—his chair, whatever.

The first woman she’d seen tonight entered the tavern dressed in short shorts and a turtleneck shirt, with leather boots mid-thigh, her sable hair piled on top of her head in whirls of dark curls.

“Hey. Silva,” one of the four men seated at the bar said and whistled. “Looking hot.”

She gave him a flashy bright red-lipped grin, then glanced in Lelandi’s direction. Astonishment was reflected in her expression. Silva’s gaze shifted and she spied Darien nearby. Bending over the bar to give the guys a better look at her ass, she whispered something to Sam. He looked over at Lelandi. Yep. she was sure to be the topic of conversation tonight.

Sam shrugged. “Drawing a real crowd tonight. Silva. Why don’t you see if the boss needs some more beer?”

Tom lifted the empty pitcher. “Need a refill. Looks like the lady could use another drink.”

Desperately wanting out of the limelight. Lelandi melted into her seat.

Silva gave her a simpering smile. ‘Well, well, looks like the word has gotten out to some far-reaching places. Guess it won’t be long before the place will be crawling with—”

Sam slammed a pitcher of beer on the counter. “Take care of the customers, Sliva, and play nice.

She sneered at him, then grabbed the pitcher. “Yes siree, boss, that’s what you pay me for.” Swinging her hips, she carried the beer to Darien’s table, and then gave him a big smile. “Here ya go. boss. Just whistle if you need more.”

Darien didn’t say a word, Just leaned back In his chair and looked over at Lelandi.

Silva made a face and headed for Lelandi’s table. “Need another... bottled water?”

Time for a drink. “Got margaritas?” Lelandi spoke low, only it wasn’t low enough.

Tom choked on his beer. A couple of the men at the bar chuckled. Sam smiled and poured whiskey for one of the men.

“I don’t know, sugar.” Silva turned to Sam. “Hey, Sam. we got fancy drinks for an out-of-towner? Like a margarita?” She said the word as If she was speaking of a woman’s cute name.

More chuckles ensued.

“I can whip up anything the little lady would like.”

Little. That described her all right. Five-four, and the size of a red lupus garou female. She sat taller.

“Is that what you would like. Miss...?” SlIva asked, drawing it out, searching for a name.

“Yes, thank you.”

Tough, damn it. Lelandi wanted to present a tougher Image in front of the grays. She’d practiced and practiced and so what did she do? Acted like a squeaky damned mouse. Used to being around her own kind, she’d never felt intimidated—much. Having earned double black belts In Jujitsu and kung fu helped boost her confidence around human brutes. But these people were neither human nor her own kind, and a whole pack of them could devour her alive if she gave them the opportunity.

The woman leaned closer and Lelandi was again sure she was about to be found out. Silva breathed in the air, and her brown eyes narrowed. Despite wearing a ton of fancy human perfumes. and of course the stench from the fresh dye job—although Lelandi had washed her hair in strawberry shampoo flying to cover up that odor—she hoped no one could smell that she was a lupus garou, and not one of their own kind, either. Looked like it didn’t work.

“Well, well, well.” Silva straightened her back. “Make the lady a margarita, Sam.”

‘Put the first on my tab.” Tom piped up. “Wouldn’t want the lady to think we’re a bunch of unfriendly old coots. –

‘The second one’s on me,” Silva said.

The miner, Joe Kelly, looked disappointed that he hadn’t spoken up first, but as much of a beta wolf as he appeared, he probably wouldn’t say anything to tick Darien off. Darien’s brothers would be the exceptions. and Silva seemed able to do as she pleased.

Darien didn’t say a word. He exuded control with just a look—dangerous, not the kind of man to rile. His actions, or lack thereof, spoke louder than any words. Bruin would have blustered all over the tavern in Darien’s place. Proving he was the pack leader and no one would disobey him, Bruin would have taken her to task immediately, belittled her, thrown her out of the Joint bodily if she’d taken his seat. But just a glower from Darien conveyed a world of threat, and shed do well to heed it.

Everyone seemed fascinated with the reason Silva had taken an interest in Lelandi. They had to figure Silva had discovered something about her. Silva seemed amused Lelandi was a red lupus garou masquerading as a human. At least Leiandi assumed the woman had found her out.

Where ya staying, darlin’?” Siiva’s tone was much more appeasing. the sweetness faked.

Lelandi cleared the sudden frog in her throat. “Just passing through.”

Silence. The woman’s eyes darkened, and she quickly glanced at Darien. His eyes had widened, and he was staring at Lelandi. Shit. Her voice must have sounded similar to Larissa’s this time, the way she spoke, the inflection, something.

Low conversation took place at the table next to Darien’s and among the grays at the bar while Sam whipped up Lelandi’s margarita, but no one at Darien’s table spoke a word.

More patrons entered the tavern, all looking to greet their leader, then, finding a dead ringer for his dead mate sitting at his regular table, turned to see Darien. and the scenario repeated itself until the place was crowded and noisy. But no one dared sit at her table. Thank god. The more important conversations were conducted low so she couldn’t hear the gist of them, but she only had to guess what was being said. Dead sister’s clone arrives at grays’ hangout, seeking revenge. They’d all be shaking in their boots. Right.

After finishing her margarita. Lelandi was dying to go to the bathroom, and the place had grown so warm, she shrugged out of her Jacket. Big mistake. As soon as they saw how petite she was, the whole room grew quiet again.

Silva hurried over with another margarita for Lelandi, although she intended to get another bottle of water.

“On me, sweetie,” the woman said, this time with real affection. Standing nearly five-foot-ten, in her four-inch heels, she was small for a female gray.

“Thanks.” Lelandi stood, and the woman’s face dropped, probably thinking Lelandi meant to leave, snubbing her for the drink. “Got to use the little girls’ room.”

“Oh.” Silva’s lips turned up slightly. Back that way.” She motioned with her hand.

“Thanks.” Lelandi hadn’t considered what ft would feel like to walk through the tavern to the ladies’ room, until everyone acted so interested in her. With her shoulders straight back, her chin tilted up, and her body ten degrees hotter than normal, she made her way to the restroom.

Several men nodded their heads in greeting. Respectfully, a couple of them took their cowboy hats off. None smiled though, not even Joe this time, which would be typical. Until their pack leader made her welcome, most would look her over, but wouldn’t make any move to be overtly friendly. Darien would probably take Joe to task If Sam told him the miner had paid for her first drink.

Sitting with some men at one of the larger tables, three women glowered at her as if they wished her dead. Had any of them wanted Larissa eliminated and carried out the threat?

Ignoring them, Lelandi walked into the restroom, but after entering a stall, she heard the outer door squeak open. Her skin chilled. Too late to circumvent the trouble headed her way.

When she exited the stall, the three women were waiting for her, their expressions slightly amused in a sinister manner. All brown-haired, around mid-twenties like her—probably each vying to be Darien’s new mate and fearing she was new competition.

When she’d come up with this scheme of looking for her Larissa’s murderer, Lelandi had never considered anyone would think she’d be interested in pursuing the pack’s leader. The idea of mating with a bigger gray for real... She mentally shook her head.

“What’s your name?” the woman in denims and a cowl-neck sweater asked, her voice softly threatening, her western boot tapping on the tile floor. Her amber eyes narrowed, she took in a deep breath—trying to smell who or what Lelandi was—and curled her orange-painted lips up in a nasty way. The notion her face could hideously freeze that way briefly crossed Lelandi’s mind. “You’re not from around here, and you’re not one of us.”

“Hey, Ritka, what say we give her a nice send-off?” the shortest one asked, still towering over Lelandi by several inches.

Lelandi brushed past her to wash her hands.

“Don’t plan on staying, bitch,” a meatier one snarled, whipping her waist-length, muddy-colored hair about as she spoke, crowding Lelandi. Bulkier than the other two, she would make a hefty wolf and hard to beat if she craved being Darien’s bitch and fought the others to have that role. But no female lupus garou—well, of the red variety—crowded Lelandi anymore and got away with it, and she was having a devil of a time maintaining her cool.

“Don’t intend to stay long. Just taking care of a little family business, if it’s any of your concern.”

Ritka whispered close to her ear, her whiskey breath invading Lelandi’s breathing space, ‘We know who you are, and you can’t have him, Red. You know what happened to the other one. Get out of Dodge, honey, before it happens to you, too.”

Her blood sizzling, Lelandi attempted to wash her hands as if the women didn’t exist.

The short one yanked at her purse and the leather strap bit Into Leiand’s shoulder. “Tell us who you are.”

“As if the bitch would say, Angelina, when she’s wearing this fool disguise,” Ritka snarled.

Lelandi’s temple pounded with frustration, but she rinsed the soap off her hands and bit back the feral part of her wolf nature clawing to get out. Beating up three female grays wouldn’t help her cause.

Ritka bumped into her, probably triggered by the other pulling at her purse, each leading the other on, escalating the situation. Lelandi clenched her teeth against retaliating. Nothing they did was important enough to provoke her, she reminded herself.

The heavy one grabbed a handful of Lelandi’s hair and yanked hard. “Guys don’t like dyed hair, didn’t you know?”

The pain ripped across Lelandi’s scalp, and she counted slowly to ten, hoping to avoid physical contact, but planning swift retaliation if anyone did anything else.

“You got that right. Hosstene,” Ritka said with a sharp laugh and reached for a handful of Lelandi’s hair.

Enough! With a quick well-placed jab. Lelandi elbowed Angelina in the gut. Judo-chopped Hosstene in the throat, then swung around and slammed her fist into Ritkas eye. While they were choking and cursing. Lelandi grabbed a paper towel, dried her hands, and left the restroom, her heart racing.

She’d asked for trouble now.

Chapter 2

No, DAMN IT. THE BITCHES HAD ASKED FOR TROUBLE AND as much as told Lelandi that someone had murdered Larissa for being a red.

She opened the restroom door and slammed it behind her, shutting out the women’s curses. The men who were sitting with the women looked from Lelandi to the ladies’ room. Sorry, boys, the girls need to tidy up a bit.

Lelandi retook her seat and when the women still didn’t emerge from the restroom, Sam motioned for Silva to check it out.

Maybe now would be a good time for Lelandi to go in search of her rogue brother and uncle. Forget that Larissa had run away and gotten herself killed, leaving Lelandi to deal with Bruin’s pack alone. Or, she could stay and face the wrath of a bunch of angry grays.

As a matter of pride and a good deal of stubbornness. she stayed. All eyes remained on the restroom while Lelandi coolly drank her second margarita. No one spoke. No doubt the whole lot of them would murder Lelandi in her sleep tonight. She hoped her time here wasn’t totally wasted. But she wasn’t giving up.

Silva came out of the restroom, her lips turned up, her eyes sparkling with amusement, head shaking. She raised her brows at the guys who were with the women and strolled past. Her attention turned to Darien, waiting for a report. Her smile broadened, then she spoke to Sam.

“Next margarita’s on me, Silva, for the young lady.” Tom offered Lelandi a grin and a wink.

Lelandi shook her head. ‘Water will be fine.”

The three women crowded out of the bathroom, Ritka scowling, her swollen right eye already turning black and blue. Angelina was still clutching her stomach, and Hosstene’s face was dark with anger—Lelandi was pretty sure her Jab to the gray’s throat would preclude her talking much for a while.

Everyone looked the women over, then Lelandi. No. she wasn’t fighting to be the pack leader’s new bitch.

She guessed it was time to come up with a new plan. This one damn sure wasn’t working.

Darien Silver watched the defiant young lady who had to be his mate’s twin. Had to be. The voice clinched it. At first, he thought she was some ditsy human sitting in his chair at his table, and he couldn’t understand why Sam hadn’t thrown her out of the place. At least he’d thought she was human. Lupus garous had exceptional visual acuity. Only humans wore glasses. And the pierced earrings. No lupus garou would get caught dead with pierced earlobes in their wolf form. Or wear a watch, for that matter. The straight black hair looked nothing like his dead mates, and the blue eyes had stopped him cold. The perfume shed drowned herself in, he figured, was some ploy to get all the guys in the tavern hot and bothered, but for lupus garous, the smell was overwhelming, burned their eyes, and had the opposite effect.

Her voice was all it took to send shivers exploding across his skin.

He swore he was seeing his late wife sipping margaritas, which she never would have done. A wine lady was what she was. And the way this woman had handled the ladies from his pack? His mate would never have managed.

Taking a steadying breath, he reminded himself the woman wasn’t his mate. She only looked like her when he scrutinized her closely, her small face dominated by the oversized Stetson and the bug-eyed, rose-colored glasses, but personality-wise she couldn’t be more different from his beloved Lelandi. Except his people already seemed to make up their minds. Lelandi had returned, and he would have a go at her again.

Not in a million years. She’d killed herself, unstable, unable to deal with the stress of being a pack leader’s mate, and not being one of them in the first place... Nope. wouldn’t happen again. Next one would be a gray, except not from his pack. Except for Silva. the eligible women had resented Lelandi, and he couldn’t forgive them.

He finished his third beer and set his glass aside. He tried to watch his people to take his mind off his dead mate, but the woman sitting at his table distracted him something fierce. What the hell was she doing here anyway? Come to claim her sister’s body? Scream at him for pushing her sister over the edge? Condemning himself enough for her death for the past three weeks, he didn’t need anyone else’s help. Not enough beers in the world could make him forget the look on Lelandi’s face, at peace finally in death.

He shook his head. Although he usually stayed until closing, tonight he wanted to get away. How would it look if the pack leader couldn’t deal with the image of his late wife sitting at the next table?

Growling deep inside, he poured himself another beer.

“Twin sister, don’t you think. Darien?” Tom, his youngest triplet asked, his brows raised.

“Yeah. Lelandi said she didn’t have any family left. Apparently she lied.” Which didn’t set well with Darien. but it was too late to be angered about it.

“What do you think she’s doing here?” Tom rubbed his hand over the sweating glass.

“Something to do with her sister, no doubt.”

“Think the woman suspects Lelandi was murdered?” Jake asked.

Darien looked sharply at him. “What the hell makes you say that?”

Jake shrugged. “Why wouldn’t she meet with you and state what her business is here? Why try to conceal her identity? The only conclusion I can come up with is she doesn’t think Lelandi’s death was an accident. And she’s looking into it herself.”

“Hell.” Darien glowered at the red, wondering what her hair would look like if it wasn’t that hideous black color, way too harsh for her light creamy skin.

“Looks like she gave the ladies hell who meant to mess with her.” Tom grinned.

“Which means there’ll be more trouble,” Jake’s voice was as dark as Darien felt.

Darien turned to Tom. “I want you to—”

Jake interrupted, “She’s leaving.”

All conversation in the tavern instantly died.

Her boots clicked on the wood floor as she walked toward the door, her back stiff, her hands clenched in fists— her whole body language saying, Don‘t mess with me.

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he craved chasing after her and laying claim to her, just like he’d done with her sister. He felt an overwhelming urge to kiss those pursed lips, feel her soft skin naked beneath his, make love to her like he’d made love to her sister. He was definitely losing it.

With the utmost restraint, he remained seated and observed her open the door. “Follow her, Tom. Watch where she goes, and... hell, stick to her for the night.”

“You sure? You really mean it?” Tom asked, his voice too hopeful.

“Just don’t let anyone get to her, all right?”

“He means,” Jake interjected, “don’t let anyone screw with her and that includes you.”

Tom looked at Darien for confirmation. If his brother wanted her and the woman was agreeable, who was he to say no? Their kind wasn’t into casual sex, so if she wanted a mate and Tom was interested, fine. Darien wasn’t about to go down that road again. “Do whatever it takes to make sure none of our people bother her.”

Tom gave Jake a look like he had him there. “Thanks, Darien. I’ll take care of her.” He hurried after Lelandi’s sister as the door slammed behind her.

Sending Tom after the woman signaled to the rest of his people in the tavern, and the word would quickly spread to the others, Darien wanted her left alone. If any stepped over the line, he’d hold them accountable.

Jake moved his glass over the wooden table, scraping it back and forth.

Darien glowered at him. “What, Jake?”

“Don’t you think you should talk with the woman? Find out what she’s doing here?”

“Why do you think Lelandi was murdered?”

“You’ve burled your head in the sand on this one, brother. Several believe someone murdered her, but when they spy me, the talking stops. No one will tell me or Tom what they suspect.”

“A conspiracy?”

“No. At least I don’t think so. Unless they’re protecting someone, or are afraid you’d be too mad if you learned the truth.”

“Most of the pack believes I’d be happier thinking she committed suicide?”

Jake twisted his head to the side. “Yeah. If we have a murderer in our midst, it could shake up the whole pack. If she committed suicide, everything would be a lot cleaner.”

“She left a suicide note in her own handwriting. She killed herself. End of story.” Darien took another swig of his beer, but this time it tasted sour.

“Then why don’t you tell her sister the truth? Why send Tom, who’s bound to botch the whole thing?” Jake’s mouth curved up, the first truly evil smile Darien had seen him offer in a while. “If he gets fresh, he’s liable to look like Ritka with a colorful new eye.”

Darien ignored his comment. “If a twin sister is looking into what happened, Lelandi must not have had any brothers.”

“We didn’t know she had any family, period.”

Darien rubbed his forehead, flying to ease the tension pooling there. The gnawing pain of her death would never fade away, but now seeing her look-alike sister brought it all crashing back tenfold. Yet, he was furious with his mate for killing herself. Doc said it was part of the grief process, but Darien hated himself for not controlling his feelings better. Remorse, that’s the only feeling he should allow himself. “I’m beginning to assume I didn’t know a lot about my mate.”

Jake glanced back at their usual table. “If it were me, I’d tell the woman what I thought and send her packing. Things could get out of hand if she hangs around. It appears the other women think she wants to be your mate to replace her sister.”

“That would be the damned day,” Darien growled, yet a twinge of need wreaked havoc with his feelings, and his brother looked like he didn’t believe him one bit.

Not far from the tavern, Lelandi heard the door creak open and shut. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Tom taking great strides to reach her, his eyes and mouth lit in a smile.

Great. Just great. How in the hell was she going to put Plan B into effect and break into Darien’s house to search for clues about Larissa’s death while he was drinking at the tavern if one of his brothers shadowed her?

She cast him an annoyed look. His ups curved up even more and his eyes sparkled with way too much interest. She headed for the Hastings Bed and Breakfast, figuring she’d slip out the window of her room if Tom took up residence in the lobby.

Before she reached the brick building, Tom joined her, standing so close that the heat of his body reached out to her. “You’re Lelandi’s sister, aren’t you?”

“Larissa’s,” she corrected.

He bowed his head slightly. ‘I wasn’t certain until I heard you speak. You sure shook Darien up. But he needed to be rousted from the pit of hell he’s been wallowing—“

The familiar sound of danger, a clicking sound made when someone switched the safety off on a gun, caught her ear, and she whipped her head around. In a heartbeat, she wished she’d brought her gun in her purse. But it was hidden under the mattress until she needed it. And she was afraid she needed it now.

Tom seized her arm. “Wait,” he whispered.

Her skin prickled with fresh concern. He’d heard it, too. She’d hoped she’d been mistaken.

“Nine-millimeter,” he warned, his voice hushed.

Before they could move, a shot rang out. Tom yelled and shoved Lelandi behind him, but collapsed to his knees. “Run! Go back to the tavern!”

Ohmigod, the bastard had shot Tom! Seizing his arm, she tried to move him, but he was dead weight as he slipped to the asphalt, passed out. Blood streaked down his face. The bullet had struck him in the temple.

The shooter moved out of the shadows, blocking her path to the tavern. A pleasant face to look at If the murdering bastard weren’t wearing such a scowl. His scruffy black beard, unkempt hair, and rumpled clothes made it appear he’d been living on the run for a few days. Amber eyes looked almost wolflike, but being upwind of him, she couldn’t tell if he was human or lupus garou.

He aimed his gun at her. Silver bullets or regular?

“What do you want?” Her heart racing, she tried to buy herself time.

Had anyone in the noisy tavern heard the shooting? She couldn’t tackle the gunman from this distance. If she dashed for the inn, he might shoot Mrs. Hastings, or the twin girls who kept hanging around the lobby, although Lelandi sure wanted to get her gun.

Where the hell was Ural, now that she could use his help? If he was in his wolf form like she suspected, his wicked canines could take care of the menace. Taking time to strip and shapeshift into the wolf herself wasn’t an option.

Out of choices, she did the only thing she could think of to rouse help for Toni and maybe scare off the hesitant gunman. She screamed.

The shooter’s eyes widened, his lips curved down, and he pulled the trigger, firing once, twice, three times. The impact of the bullets ripped into her chest, throwing her against the brick building, and she nearly collapsed. At first, no pain registered as she struggled to stay on her feet. When she didn’t immediately expire on the spot, he stared at her as if she was the devil incarnate.

Then the pain struck hard and for an instant, her thought processes threatened to shut down. When he raised his gun, her brain caught hold.

She dashed toward the forest skirting the town, intending to double back as soon as she could and get help for Tom. She’d give the shooter a real run for his blood money. Thank god the bullets didn’t burn like silver ones would. She’d live, if she could find refuge and allow her body time to heal.

“Bloody hell!” Her assailant took chase.

Stabbing pain streaked through every inch of her now, and she could feel the hot blood seeping from the wounds. Every second her heart pumped more blood out, and she felt her legs weakening.

Run, damn you, Lelandi. If ever she had to push herself, this was the time.

Branches broke several yards behind her as she dove around trees, scrambled over fallen, rotting trunks, clawed through thick brush. As much noise as the gunman was making, she again assumed he was human. Good. He couldn’t see the trail of blood she was leaving, nor could he smell her scent. Then again, the breeze was shifting so much, it would help to disguise her location. Oh hell, as much perfume as she was wearing, probably even a human could follow her. She tried to remain downwind of him.

Tried—was the key word, because her senses were failing—one by one.

She no longer heard the birds singing in the trees, or the wind whistling through the firs, just her heavy breathing and the blood roaring in her ears. Her eyes blurred and she misjudged the lay of the land. The ground seemed to give way. And she fell.

Striking branches and brambles, she grabbed for anything to stop her tumble down the steep incline, skinning and cutting her hands. She lost her hat first, her glasses next. A branch scraped off one earring, then the other. Her hair tangled on every branch in her path, yanking at her scalp, the branches and twigs giving up their hold as she roiled. Downward... downward, banging against rocks and stumps. her whole body bruised and battered, she gritted her teeth against the pain.

For a second, she worried about the damned disguise and the trail she’d left behind for the attempted murderer. Then her back struck something rock hard, unforgiving, massive. The pain shot straight up her spine, all the way to her brain, short-circuiting it.

Blackness enveloped her as her night vision and all her senses shut down.

Chapter 3

REACHING A DULL ROAR, THE CONVERSATION AT THE TAVERN centered around Lelandi’s sisters appearance in town when Darien’s cell phone rang. He wasn’t surprised to see Tom’s cell number and assumed Lelandi’s sister was causing trouble. He sure as hell hoped she hadn’t slipped away from him. “Yeah, Tom? What’s up now?”

“Got to come quick!” Tom yelled into the phone, his voice breathy.

“Tom?” Darien leapt from his chair. ‘Where are you?”

“Gunshots fired. Hastings Bed—” The phone died.

“Gunfire at Hastings!” Darien’s heart hammered his ribs as he and Jake bolted for the tavern door.

From the thunderous roar of boots tromping down the street behind him, everyone from the tavern must be on his heels. While he raced toward the hotel, his muscles tensed for battle, concern for the woman and his brother’s safety swamped him.

Although the insidious thought flashed across his mind that she might have shot Tom.

“Hastings Bed and Breakfast,” he hollered to Jake, clarifying it wasn’t Hastings Hardware.

“Crap, Darien, what now?”

“Gunshots were fired. Hell, I don’t know.” Darien berated himself that he’d put Tom’s life in danger, when he should have gone instead.

His cell phone rang, and he jerked it off his belt. “Tom, what the hell’s—”

“I’ve been hit.”

“Where are you?”

“Behind…” Tom quit speaking.

In the eerie silence, Darien held his breath in anticipation as he and Jake stopped dead. “Tom? Tom!” Silence. “Armed gunman somewhere near Hastings. Get Doc Oliver. Tom’s been shot.” Darien shouted to his men.

Gray-haired and bearded Mason. still wearing his gray suit—the usual attire for Silver Town’s bank owner—yanked out his cell phone. “Got it. boss.”

“Silver bullets or regular?” Jake asked.

“Phone went dead.”

More shots sounded in the woods farther away. Darien cursed and quickened his run toward Hastings. “Careful, men. Not sure what kind of bullets the shooter’s using.”

He motioned for some to skirt around the front of the B&B. Then he, Jake, and several others headed around back.

“Where the hell is Tom?” Jake asked under his breath.

“Passed out maybe.”

“I’ll kill whoever the son of a—”

Groans came from behind a Dumpster. Anger blazed through Darien’s veins as he and Jake bolted around the green trash bin.

Tom lay on his back, holding his bloodied head, his eyes dazed. “Where’d she go? Odin’s beard, my head hurts like a—”

“Tell the others we found Tom!” Darien shouted to some of the men as they drew closer. One of them handed him a handkerchief. Crouching next to his brother, Darien lifted his head in his lap, then tied the handkerchief around the bleeding wound. “Silver or regular?”

“Not silver. My body’s rejecting the bullet, but it hurts like hell.” Tom closed his eyes. “Where’s Larissa?”

Two more men came running toward them.

“Doc Oliver’s on his way.” Mason shoved his phone into his pocket. “No sign of the girl or the gunman.” He arched a gray brow in question. ‘Sure they aren’t one and the same?”

Hoping it wasn’t so, Darien looked at Tom for an answer.

“Thor’s thunder.” Tom’s gaze drifted and he squinted his eyes closed. “He shot Larissa. too.”

Darien swore under his breath. The notion the maniac threatened Lelandi’s sister’s life twisted his gut. Issuing the next order took all his strength, when he wanted more than anything to take care of the matter himself. “Find her, and get that damned gunman.”

Any other decision would sound like he cared more for the red’s safety than his own brother, or a pack member—not a leadership quality. Applying pressure to the wound, he hoped Doc Oliver would hurry, because no matter how much he told himself otherwise, the woman looked too much like his dead mate to deny his feelings for her. Even in death, she held his heart captive.

Unable to contain his impatience he shouted. “Where the hell is Doc Oliver?”

Three more shots rang out, reverberating through the forest, and Lelandi cringed. The gunman must be shooting at shadows. She hoped.

Survival of the fittest. That’s what ran through her mind as she lay in the underbrush nestled at the base of a stand of spruce, her back wedged up against a moss- blanketed boulder. Her mind drifted when the pain from the three bullets lodged in her heart intensified. Her back didn’t feel too swift either. She’d survived worse. Hunter’s wounds when she was a wolf, an attempted rape, a near drowning, now this. Her guardian angel sure worked overtime for her.

The pain grew hot, but the perspiration on her skin, refrigerated by the cool breeze and the blood soaking her turtleneck chilled her further. Something moved toward her. Intently, she listened to the sound of its scurrying and smelled the scents. Cold, crisp autumn, a hint of moisture in the air, a time when she baked apple pies, made special soups and hot spicy chili, decorated with pumpkins. squash. and colorful mums, the colors complementary to her fiery red hair and green eyes. Autumn, her special time of year.

Darien was a winter, sable hair, dark eyes, cold, brooding. North wind chilled. Winter.

The scurrying stopped, bringing her drifting mind back to her current set of circumstances. The creature’s blood rushed through its small heart and veins, and she got a whiff of its unique smell. A rabbit. She closed her eyes and hoped Darien had found his brother and was easing his pain, like she wished someone could do for her.

A wolf howled. I’m here, where are you?

Ural? He’d find her, come for her, eliminate her assailant.

The gunman couldn’t kill her with regular bullets, but she had to heal up some before she could move again. Getting the gunman away from Tom had helped him, but now she didn’t have the strength to move an inch in the direction of Hastings Bed and Breakfast. Worse, she had no idea where she was.

Footsteps crunched on fallen leaves maybe a half mile away. The gunman’s or Darien’s and his men? She made out only one set of footfalls, most likely the gunman’s.

Her chest hurt like it was on fire, and she stifled another groan. Don‘t pass out! If the gunman found her, she’d make a horrendous racket, but if she passed out, he could move her somewhere else and kill her. Snapping her neck would do the trick, when regular bullets wouldn’t.

Her thoughts shifted to the tavern, and she could imagine Darien racing out with half his people or more in hot pursuit if Torn had been able to call for help. Too late, she’d seen the gunman hiding in the shadows of Hastings, and she berated herself again for not being more alert.

Would the grays waste their time searching for her if they discovered Tom was hurt? Maybe not, but they’d continue to look for the gunman who’d shot Tom.

She tried to concentrate on the bullets seated in her heart. Tried to envision her body working miracles to expel the foreign substances, stop the bleeding, and seal the wounds. But she’d lost too much blood and felt weak, nauseous, disoriented. It would take some time to rebuild her blood. She groaned again.

Footsteps trudged closer, stopped, moved again.

No one spoke any words. Friend or foe?

She looked up through (he tree branches shuddering in the wind. A sprinkling of twinkling stars littered the dark night sky. Star light, star bright... Sharp pains coursed through her body, down her arms and legs, and up again, sending blinding pain into her skull. Her vision blurring, she clenched her teeth to keep from fading away.

Where was Ural? Originating from one of the purest lines of the first lupus garou, she was a royal like him and could change into the wolf despite it being a [noon- less night. Being a wolf in this condition wouldn’t help, however. Except the gunman wasn’t looking for one. Yes! Then she could howl and return Ural’s call. He’d come to her then and protect her.

She fumbled with her jacket buttons, but didn’t have the strength to unbutton even the first one. As weak as she was, she wasn’t sure she could even shapeshift.

Where the hell was Ural? He could rip away the gunman’s life in a flash. She’d be safe—or safer. But she didn’t trust Ural’s motives either. If he found her weak and unable to resist, he could return her to the pack. Damn him.

Wincing, she closed her eyes, trying to will away the pain.

Had the shooter targeted Lelandi because she looked like Larissa? Or did he assume she was here, trying to discover who had killed Larissa?

She swore a gray had murdered Larissa, angry that the leader of the grays had mated with a red. Or had her ruthless pack leader Bruin located Larissa, pretending that he hadn’t? Now Lelandi wasn’t so sure.

Then she thought she smelled Ural. Please. Ural. come and bite the bastard! But he didn’t show himself, didnt attack the gunman. Maybe it was powerful wishful thinking.

“Larissa!” Darien shouted from a good half mile away.

Here! No, not Larissa... Larissa was dead Lelandi! Here.

Lelandi closed her eyes. A whisper of a breeze caressed her face and strands of hair tickled her cheek, but she couldn’t gather the strength to shove them away. And the pain. Oh, god, the pain.

Someone shuffled only feet from her. She squeezed her eyes tighter and barely breathed. How had he gotten so close without her hearing? Her mind drifted. Keep alert! If he was wolf and downwind of her, he could smell her spilled blood. He could hear her heart pumping at a furious rate.

She heard his beating rapidly, his heavy breathing, the grinding of his teeth, his fingernail scraping the metal of the gun. Then he moved farther away from where she curled up in a fetal position, trying to conserve energy and the heat of her body, trying to make herself smaller and unnoticeable.

Others took up the call, shouting Lelandi’s name as they spread out and drew closer. She frowned. How would they know her name? Larissa would have kept her family a secret so the grays wouldn’t learn she already had a pack—and a mate.

The gunman tromped farther away, stealing her attention, but he was still too close.

The breeze suddenly shifted and Darien’s brooding brother Jake shouted, “This way!”

She watched for them, nearly quit breathing in anticipation, not to mention the pain grew so sharp she could barely focus on anything else.

But her rescuers didn’t come.

Darien paced back and forth in the thick of the woods in front of thirty of his men, every one of them now armed. Although normally they hunted in their wolf coats, the pack had always kept guns—their way of dealing with human troublemakers over the last one hundred and fifty years in the area.

“We thought we smelled her perfume several times, but the damned wind isn’t cooperating! So where the hell is she?” Darien asked.

“We need to turn wolf,” Jake said.

“Can’t for three more days,” Sam reminded him.

“Hell, I know that, Sam. I was just saying...” Jake didn’t say anything more. Just poked the toe of his boot in the pine needle—covered dirt, his hands shoved in his pockets, his face dark with a mixture of concern and annoyance.

“We’ve searched for hours. Where the hell is she?” Darien asked again, voicing his own irritation.

They hadn’t found anything—her hat, glasses, nothing—as if she’d vanished in thin air like a puff of mist on a hot, sunny day. He rubbed the pounding in his temples, the thought stirring his blood that she was Lelandi, wounded, hurting, waiting for him to come to her aid, and not her sister. For now, she was one and the same, and he’d protect her with his own life. For now.

Once he found her and she’d healed, he’d send her home to her pack and out of his life for good.

“She doesn’t know these woods. She could easily get lost without her wolf senses,” Jake warned.

Darien stared into the wilderness, remembering a time when he dashed with his mate through the woods as wolves, running until they were exhausted, mating, then collapsing like two half-spent dogs. He shook free of the immobilizing memories.

“What if he got her?” Jake asked, a question Darien was sure everyone else was thinking. “What if he took her body in a vehicle and planned to dispose of her somewhere else?”

Darien wouldn‘t consider that scenario.

Mason rubbed his bearded cheek, his hair whipping in the breeze. ‘We’ve searched all night. We’re dog tired. If they’re just regular bullets, she can’t die from them. Why don’t we get some rest and try again in a few hours?”

“She saved Tom’s life.” The muscle ticked in Jake’s jaw like it did when he was on the verge of striking someone. “I’ll keep looking until some of you get rest and relieve me.”

Having every intention of hunting for her until he dropped from exhaustion, Darien slapped his brother’s shoulder with approval. “We’ll do it together.”

If she’d been one of the pack, his men would have continued searching for her. Without her being one of them, he couldn’t ask them to give up any more of their energy without getting some rest. He was glad his brother had offered, despite the fact he had distanced himself from Darien the last couple of weeks. Probably because of the foul mood Darien had been in since his mate died.

The smell of Sliva’s feminine scent wafted in the air, and the men turned to see her stalking toward them dressed in tight jeans, hiking boots, gloves, and a short-waisted corduroy jacket. “I’ll help ya.” Her expression and tone of voice were as determined as Darien felt.

“No women.” Darien said, his voice harsh, annoyed she’d offer to join them.

“Why? Think I might want to kill her, too? Or maybe you’re a tad worried about little ol’ me? But I can handle myself.” Silva smirked. “The woman’s got spunk and she deserves our help.”

Considering his options, another body that would fill the gap couldn’t hurt. “Stay with one of the men at all times.”

“Jeez. Darien, I would almost think you have a thing for me.” She blew him a kiss and sidled up to Sam. “Want to be my team mate?”

“Okay, those who want to continue the search, do so. The rest get some sleep. Let’s get moving.” Darien took off with a lengthened stride, determined to find her before the night was over.

“What do you think is going on?” Jake ducked under the branch of a spruce.

“Gunman’s human.”

“Why go after our brother? Why go after the red?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Darien stopped to sample the breeze. The scent of other grays, a deer, a rabbit. pinesap, fall, nothing else. “He wasn’t after Tom. I suspect. Just the red. Except Tom was following her and would have protected her.”

“You still think your mate committed suicide?”

Yeah, and it was his damned fault. Whirlwind romance, although she’d seemed uncertain about becoming his mate, worried his people would revolt over her being a red, but anxious about something deeper that he could never get her to reveal. Maybe if he hadn’t pushed her to be his mate. But hell, she was his soul mate, the one he’d dreamed about for months. And she’d finally revealed she’d had the dreams about him, too. How could he let her go?

He shook his head. “I don’t know what to think.” Darien still harbored the same deep-seated feelings— that she’d committed suicide. He finally admitted. “She’d tried before.”

Jake’s mouth dropped. “When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She was sorry. Told me she wouldn’t try again and begged me not to tell the others.”

“A pack leader has to have a strong mate, Darien, pack rules. You should have at least told me.”

“I promised her.”

And it got her killed. Maybe if he’d deep down listened to what was bothering her. Sleepless nights, medicine to aid her sleep, but still she kept waking, fearful, exhausted, out-of-sorts. Hell, when she managed to kill herself this Ume, he never doubted it was for real.

‘Why did she try before?”

“She wouldn’t say. She was a private person. She was overly tired, distraught—”

“Pregnant.”

Darien’s face heated, anger and regret warring with his emotions. Yeah, pregnant with their triplets. Which made the whole damned thing even more of a travesty.

But if she couldn’t deal with life before the triplets were born, how would she have been able to handle the stress afterward?

“I understand why you think she might have committed suicide then, but don’t you think this business with her sister sheds a different light on it?”

“Maybe.”

Although he couldn’t see that it did. Unless someone coerced Lelandi to write the suicide note. She hadn’t been enthusiastic about having the babies, in fact seemed even more depressed about it. If anyone had coerced her, he didn’t think it took much convincing, yet if anyone had, they’d die at his hand.

Shots rang out a mile away, and Darien cursed under his breath. He charged in the direction, but Jake quickly caught up to him and grabbed his arm. Darien whirled around in fury, but saw Jake’s concerned expression. ‘What?” he whispered.

“Listen.”

He stood as silent as a frozen lake in winter and listened with his wolf’s hearing.

A heart beating farther away, slow, too slow, and then a groan.

“Lelandi!”

Jake glanced at him.

Darien gave him a feral look and yelled. “Larissa!”

They searched the area again, Darien and his brother in closer proximity to each other this time, trying not to miss her. He paused. “Larissa!”

Chapter 4

THROUGH A FOG-FILLED HAZE, LELANDI FELT PRESSURE ON her throat as If a snake encircled her neck, squeezing tight. She struggled for breath, her mind blackening. She tried to smell the snake, but all she sensed was the strong odor of decaying leaves.

Then a gruff, impatient male voice shouted for Larissa, nearer now.

A low, threatening growl sounded.

Ural?

The pressure on her throat ceased, and she gasped for air, unable to catch her breath. She couldn’t focus on anything, where she was, who he was, what had happened to Larissa. The snake moved quickly away, slithering through the brush, hiding from imminent danger. The pungent odor of humus departed with it. But a new scent drifted in the air. Her cousin’s.

“Ural,” she tried to say, but his name stuck in her throat.

He slunk close to her, licked her cheek—warm, wet, welcome. She wanted to hug his neck, but she couldn’t move.

“Larissa!” the male voice shouted, growing closer, his footsteps sending a sliver of a tremor through the ground, and another, not far away.

Lelandi, she corrected him silently. Even her parents, her brother, and the pack members constantly mixed up their names, to her utter annoyance. She swallowed hard, her throat sore, the pain in her chest radiating throughout her body, agonizing, punishing. Where was she?

Ural nudged her face, then backed away.

Was he behind her? Protecting her?

Cold numbed her Joints, her skin, her bones. She couldn’t sit or lift her head. But the darkness was beginning to grow light.

“Larissa!”

She opened her mouth to speak, but the snake had stolen her voice. She squeaked out something inaudible. Taking a deep breath, she shut her gaping mouth, and stared in the direction of the footsteps.

Small rocks, twigs, and leaves slid down the hill In advance of the marauders, hurrying down the steep incline toward her, nearer and nearer. They’d found her! But the elation was overshadowed by what they’d want to do with her next.

“Over here!” Darien’s rich baritone voice sent shivers of expectation through her torn-up body.

His hair was tangled by the wind, his brown eyes nearly black, his mouth grim and set.

Then she remembered. Larissa—she was... was dead. And Tom—shot. Was he all right? And Ural! If the grays catch him...

“Over here!” Darien shouted again, and soon another man crashed through the thick brush. Darien Jerked his leather coat off and wrapped her in it.

Jake appeared, yanked a phone off his belt, shouted coordinates into the phone, and gave orders to keep searching for the gunman. “Shit.” Jake paused as whoever he spoke to must have finally got a word in edgewise. Sam was shot.”

Darien stopped unbuttoning his shirt. “Is he...”

“Hit In the arm. He’ll live.”

“What about Silva?” Darien removed his shirt and started to unbutton Lelandi’s jacket.

“She’s shook up, but fine. The gunman’s dead.”

Darien looked up at Jake. “Anyone question him?”

“He’s dead.”

“Hell, Jake. I know that. But did anyone question him before he died?”

Jake shook his head and hung up the phone, then he lifted his nose and sniffed. “Do you smell a hint of a red?”

“Can’t as much perfume as she’s wearing.” Darien pulled up her turtleneck.

The cold air chilled her already frozen skin. He muttered an ancient wolf curse, then tucked his body- warmed flannel shirt against her wounds—smelling of him—all hot and spicy male.

Her mind drifted until he spoke again. “Who killed him?”

She stared at his bare chest, lightly haired, muscled, bronzed, beautiful. Who said men’s bodies couldn’t be beautiful? Every inch of him looked incredibly lickable, kissable, real.

“Not sure who killed him. Darien.”

“Damn it. The gunman should have been questioned.” Darien pulled her shirt down with tenderness, warming her, and then he used the same gentleness to close her Jacket. “First off, who the hell are you?”

So much for the tenderness.

Through clenched teeth, she tried to growl, “Lelandi, and you know who the hell I am,” but her voice was too hoarse. Her eyes were so heavily lidded, she could barely keep them open, except to stare at his magnificent chest.

But why was the rest of him dressed? Naked, that’s the way he appeared to her in the dreams, his corded muscles rippling as he moved, every part of his sculpted anatomy ready to pleasure her. And why was she dressed? When she was always bared to the skin, waiting for his hungry touch?

He cursed. “God of thunder! My mate’s dead, so what the hell do you think you’re trying to pull?”

She lifted her gaze from his chest. Darien’s stem face shook her loose of her fantasy. Unable to fathom what he was talking about, she knew his mate—Larissa—was dead. She choked on a sob.

He lifted her off the cold ground and the sight of his naked chest, square set Jaw. darkened eyes— everything—faded away.

“Woman.” Darien called out to her from a million miles away, his steely voice cloaked in concern.

She heard him, but couldn’t focus, couldn’t open her eyes. Her body floated, Jostled over the rough terrain while the big gray carried her.

“How many times did he shoot you?”

Too, too many.

“What did he look like?”

Who? Her eyes fluttered open briefly, then slammed shut.

“Speak to me. At the tavern when you went to the restroom, what did the ladies do to upset you?”

Crowded me. Not since she had martial arts training had anyone messed with her. Took a near human rape to convince her she needed a way to protect herself as a human. Too bad she couldn’t have used it to disarm the gunman. But he hadn’t been close enough. If only she’d had her gun.

With a ragged sigh, she soaked in the heat of Darien’s body, the strength of his arms wrapped securely around her, the smell of his masculinity, the smell of his sex. No matter how harshly he acted toward her, no matter how disinterested he pretended to be, he couldn’t restrain that part of himself. He couldn’t hide the telltale signals that he wanted her, like any alpha male lupus garou craved a female. The sexual chemistry between them sizzled, sending a volley of heat sliding through her. She moaned and he tightened his grip on her. Larissa must have delighted in mating with such a rugged figure of a man, much, much bigger than a red.

“Larissa,” he said, commanding her to respond.

She frowned and opened her eyes. Jake gave her a look as grave as Darien’s as they climbed up the side of the ridge.

“Lelandi,” she said on edge, with barely the breath to breathe.

Darien’s grim ups scowled further.

She wrinkled her brows in concentration. “Three.”

Darien stared at her. “Three what?”

“Maybe she’s answering your previous question, how many times had she been shot?”

She nodded her head limply.

Jake ran his hand over his scruffy whiskers. “She’s pretty out of it.”

“That’s why I’m trying to keep her talking. Ask her something.”

“Where are your parents?” Jake’s voice was as demanding as his brother’s.

She swallowed hard, tamped down the pain in her heart, in her brain. Dead.

“We need to send her to her own people, let them take care of this.” Jake said.

“Whoever tried to kill her came into our territory. It’s our jurisdiction, our matter to handle.”

“But what if this had nothing to do with Lelandi?” Jake asked.

“Larissa,” she said, correcting him, this time angry. Couldn’t they get their names straight?

Darien ducked with her underneath the branch of an oak. “What If this does have to do with Lelandi?”

“Larissa,” she said again, her voice becoming unduly agitated.

Hugging her closer, Darien climbed over a fallen log. “She’s sure not following the gist of our conversation.”

The aroma of bacon, sausage, and ham cooking in houses at the edge of town wafted in the air, and a rush of voices and footsteps headed her way. A hawk gilded on the wind in search of its own breakfast that morning, and clouds were building. A hint of an early snow on the breeze added to the chill in her bones, while the pain in her chest and back spiraled out of control.

Coveting the heat of the gray, she wanted to lean further into him, but she felt as limp as a rag doll, unable to control her destiny. Taking another deep breath, she tried to smell his sex again. Every man’s was different and most she never paid much attention to, but his was driving her mad. Virile, strong. musky, hot as a heated oven in summer, tantalizing. Had his special scent caught Larissa’s attention?

Lelandi never figured she’d be drawn to the same male as Larissa. Must be the gunshot wounds screwing up her sense of smell.

“Hold on, Larissa,” Darien said, his voice darkly soothing. “Doc will fix you up.”

The look he shared with his brother cast doubt on his words.

“Get Doctor Weber.” she managed to croak out.

The silent glance that passed between Darien and Jake meant they had other plans. But Doctor Weber was one of the reds. He’d know what to do. He’d removed bullets from her flank when hunters had shot her as a wolf, resuscitated her when she’d nearly drowned.

“They’re bringing Sam in,” a guy said, crowding in with several others, hurrying to join Darien.

Sam? Oh, the bartender, devious smile, rugged, mountain-man type.

“Is he wounded badly?” Darien sounded gloomy.

“Not as bad as the little lady appears to be.” The man’s beer breath made her wince when he squeezed in close to get a look.

“Sam was shot in the arm, nothing vital struck,” another said. “But you know him, he’ll be serving drinks by this evening, boss.”

“Lupus,” she whispered and Darien’s eyes grew wide.

Before she uttered another sound, he leaned down and kissed her, but the kiss didn’t slop at silencing her words. His lips pressed deeper, promising more, willing her to agree, and then his warm mouth tantalizing hers faded away.

“Larissa,” he called out, drawing her forth from the darkness.

Darien’s dark eyes gazed at her, pensive, pained.

Several of the men chuckled.

“The ladies will be clamoring for a kiss that would make ‘em pass right out.” Silva’s voice was silky soft, dreamy, wistful.

Vehicle doors creaked open, and Lelandi closed her eyes. wanting to say something more to force the gray to kiss her again, but she couldn’t come up with anything, her mind focusing on the way his lips touched hers— hungry, desirous, feral.

“Sure they weren’t a special kind of bullet?” someone asked, his voice hushed.

“No. She’s lost a lot of blood. The cold’s taken a toll on her, too. Riding with her, brother?” Jake asked.

Darien released her and she reached out to him, wanting his warmth, his comfort, another of his mind numbing kisses. He seemed torn about showing any further affection.

Lying on something long, flat, and hard, she felt the blankets covering her, but the bone-chilling cold renewed after losing the heat of the big gray’s body.

“Meet you over there.” Darien’s voice sounded gruff and unreal, like he was trying to put on a show for his pack. trying to distance himself from her. “Got to check out Silva and Sam’s story.”

Feeling rejected, she wanted more of his touch, scowling at her, paying attention to her, anything. Yet, on another level, she shouldn’t feel any of these things.

“I can give you a report,” Jake offered.

Again, there was a prolonged hesitation. “No, I’ll check on her later.”

Darien’s rejection cut deep, and she turned her misty gaze away so she couldn’t see the hardened look in his eyes.

“I’ll go with her, Doc.” Jake climbed in beside her and the vehicle rocked like a boat adrift in turbulent water. He smelled different, not as sexual as Darien. Maybe because he wasn’t attracted to her like she sensed Darien was.

Heaven forbid. A gray. Her dead sister’s mate. And torn emotionally because of losing her. Yet. Lelandi couldn’t stop craving his touch.

“Wait up!” Silva said. “I want to ride with her.”

Darien put a hand on her arm, stopping her. “I need to talk to you first, Silva.”

“Can’t it wait, boss? Sam saw everything anyway. Uhm, as much as there was to see.”

Again, there was a long pause before he responded.

“Got to take care of the little lady,” a white-haired man said.

“All right. Doc. But I want to hear what happened out there soonest. SIlva.”

Pack business. Nothing else counted. Certainly not Lelandi. Only the shooter who killed the gunman mattered. She gritted her teeth against the pain in her heart.

“Yes, siree, boss.” Silva said, her voice like cotton candy.

The ambulance jiggled some more, and Silva’s slight feminine fragrance scented the air.

The doors slammed shut and the woman smiled at Lelandi, her expression wistful.

“You sure shook that big gray out of his doldrums, sugar.” Silva turned to Jake. “So what in the world happened out there?”

“I could ask you the same, Sllva. Why the hell did the gunman have to die before he talked?”

Lelandi croaked out, “He had to die. No witnesses.”

Chapter 5

As SOON AS LELANDI’S LOOK-ALIKE SISTER HAD INVADED his favorite Friday night getaway since the death of his mate, Darien knew there’d be trouble. His men were sure he wanted her to replace his dead mate. The women were already jealous he’d be interested in another red. Despite the fact he’d made every effort to show no interest in her.

Except for the kiss. Hell, he’d only done it to silence her words. Yet, the kiss hadn’t just stopped at prohibiting her from speaking, nor had he wanted it to, which was absolute madness. Worse, he made her pass out, not because of his passionate kiss either. She was severely injured for Odin’s sake. What the hell was the matter with him anyway?

Letting his breath out in exasperation, he stood in front of Hastings Bed and Breakfast and examined Sam’s flesh wound, seeing where the bullet had grazed his upper arm.

Sam was telling his story again, probably for the fiftieth time, relishing every second of his moment of glory while the townsfolk crowded around, listening in. “The gunman was following us, but Silva was chattering as usual and must have distracted me. He fired before I could get a shot off. Whoever killed the man hid in the trees on a ridge. Have no idea why he hasn’t joined us to get a pat on the back.”

“Probably worried Darien would be pissed at him for not hitting the gunman somewhere less fatal.” Mason slanted Darien a look.

Humans, curious about what had happened, mingled with his people, so Sam and the rest of Darien’s people were cautious about what they revealed. Which made Darien think again about the kiss. Hell, he couldn’t have the little red wolf, half out of her head, talking about lupus garous.

“Let’s get you to the hospital.” Darien said, breaking up the show.

“I’ll take him.” Mervin still wore his old-time barber clothes, vest, red band around the arm of his white long- sleeved shirt, red bow tie, and the straw hat seated on his nearly black hair. “The sheriff’s cutting his vacation short and headed back here. Darien.”

“Good. I want a meeting at two this afternoon with my team.”

Once he’d seen the injured transported to the hospital. Darien returned to where the dead gunman lay. Two of his men rifled through the man’s clothes. His black eyes were lifeless, a scraggly two-day growth of black beard covered his face and his long hair was unkempt.

“No ID.” Mason removed his hand from the guy’s jacket pocket.

Not that Darien expected he’d have any. Not a local, but a human, and a good shot with a gun. A hired gun? Or his own job?

Mason jerked his thumb at the dead man. “The shooter killed him with one fatal shot to the head. Sure knew what he was doing. This guy used a 9-mm: powder residue on his hands and jacket, proving he fired the gun, silver bullets in his right side pocket.”

Darien shifted his perusal of the gunman to Mason, who shrugged. “The bullets in the chamber are regular. The ones in his pocket would have killed your brother and the little lady.”

“He didn’t believe.” Swamped with relief. Darien realized how lucky the woman and his brother had been.

Mason handed the bullets to Darien. “So a lupus garou killed him. How much you want to bet the silvers from our mine?”

“Might tie into the missing silver.” Darien’s attention shifted north where two of his men headed in his direction. John Hastings, owner of the hardware store and B&B and one of the founding fathers of the town, and Deputy Peter Jorgenson.

They both shook their heads, confirming they hadn’t located the other shooter.

Deputy Jorgenson’s amber eyes were nearly black, although he was never easily riled. “We found gunpowder residue and took pictures of where he’d stood and tramped down the grass.”

“Any trace of his scent?” Darien asked.

“So many of us were in the area, it’s hard to tell. Even Sam’s and Silva’s scents were drifting on the breeze up that way.”

Darien motioned to the gunman. “Take him to the morgue. I want Doc Featherston to conduct an autopsy and give me a report ASAP. Have a ballistic test run on the bullet and a comparison made on every lupus garou’s gun out here today.”

“I’ll get right on it,” Deputy Jorgenson said.

Mason walked back to town with Darien, his face scrunched up in thought. “You think the shooter was a red or a gray?”

“I think he was one of us or the shooter would have left a red scent. Easy to detect.”

“I smelled a red scent,” Hastings said, half of his gray hair, loosened from the leather strap, now whipping about his shoulders in the breeze. “Faint, but it was there.”

Darien glanced in the direction of the dead man and the deputy organizing a party to carry him. “Now that you mention it, Jake said he thought he smelled one near Lelandi. And we heard a couple of howls. Why didn’t Peter mention smelling any?”

“I was the only one who caught a whiff of it in the breeze. He discounted what I smelled. Said my sniffer wasn’t as keen as it used to be. I’ll give him that, but I know what I smelled.” Hastings shook his head. “Young whippersnappers.”

“Darien, wait up, boss!” Deputy Jorgenson shouted, chasing after him. “We’ve found evidence a red was in the area.”

Darien gave Hastings a knowing look.

Hastings snorted. “Yeah, my sniffer’s out of whack.”

Deputy Jorgenson handed a patch of red fur to Darien. “Found it stuck to some brambles and definitely smells like a red lupus garou.”

Darien looked up at his men. “It’s fresh. Hell, he’s got to be a royal.”

“Same one I smelled.” Hastings gave the deputy a pointed glower.

“Post guards for the woman around the clock. Darien said.

“Yes, sir.” Deputy Jorgenson took off running toward town.

“That young man’s got what it takes to be sheriff some day,” Mason said.

“Only if he listens to his elders,” Hastings clarified.

Darien continued toward town. “Another sixty or so years, I’m sure Uncle Sheridan will give up his job.”

Hastings shook his head. “He’ll want to retire once he learns all hell broke loose while he was on vacation for the first time in ten years.”

Mason snorted. “He’ll be in hog heaven—ordering folks around. We haven’t had this much excitement since that mental patient broke out of a loony bin, killed his family, then hid out here.”

“One reason not to allow humans to live in our town,” Hastings said.

Darien didn’t agree. “Keeps us on our toes. Otherwise, we’d get careless.”

A large gathering of men at the edge of town were talking about the crimes committed. Most lupus garou societies blended with human-run towns. Silver Town was different—run and controlled by lupus garous since its inception when the first settlers moved west, and Darien’s family had opted to keep it that way.

When they reached them, Mervin spoke to Darien. “The red sure stirred up this quiet little town. Don’t imagine it’s going to settle down none for a time, either.”

“The lady’s going home, soon as I explain how her sister died.”

Several cast sideways glances at each other.

“As soon as she’s well enough to travel,” he added.

Some nodded, but he could tell they didn’t believe him. The only way to prove his word was to send her packing, and he would, just like he said.

“See you boys later.”

Darien stalked up the street to his SUV. Lelandi hadn’t been in her grave three weeks, now this. But another thought puzzled him. If she’d cut ties with her family, how had Larissa learned about her sister’s death?

If she hadn’t been his soul mate, he would never have gotten involved with a red who had family, not without her parents’ and the head of her pack’s permission. He damn well suspected now she hadn’t been a loner, giving up her pack, like she’d said.

Climbing into the vehicle, he took a deep breath and smelled the new car leather. The vehicle was supposed to be perfect for a family, this one having four doors to accommodate the triplets. He squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the steering wheel hard. Several had warned him not to take the red for his mate, yet he couldn’t get her out of his system, vivacious and spirited as she was. But he should have known she wouldn’t have been strong enough to be a pack leader’s mate.

When he parked at Silver Town Hospital, he noted the large number of vehicles there, Probably some of Sam’s kin come to check him out. And Uncle Sheridan’s sons, the twenty-four-year-old quadruplets, were there, too, probably looking in on cousin Tom. Darien blew out his breath. Keeping the community calm after the Incident was going to be some job.

He stalked into the hospital. With some reservation, several of the women and men greeted him in the waiting area. He could see he was going to be in the doghouse until he settled the matter.

Wearing hearts and flowers—decorated scrubs, Ritka glowered at him with her good eye. The other was half-shut and turning green and yellow. “That bitch is in room four. If Doc wants someone to take care of her, he’ll have to hire someone else.”

“What about Cecilia?”

“Off today.”

“Call her in.”

Ritka’s jaw dropped. “But—”

“Call her in, or I will. You don’t want me to have to do it.”

Snapping her mouth shut, Ritka shoved her brown hair behind her ears. “All right, but she’s not going to like it.”

Ritka grabbed the phone and hit a button, then tapped her long nails on the check-in counter. “Cecilia? It’s me. Ritka. Get your butt in here. We’ve got three patients with gunshot wounds, and the boss is calling the shots,” She tilted her head to the side and gave Darien another dirty look. “Yeah, no shit. Three gunshot wounds and Darien said to get in here now.” Ritka hung up the phone and folded her arms. “You can put up with her next, and believe you me, she won’t treat your new fancy any better.”

“Keep a civil tongue where the woman’s concerned. Ritka. She’s a patient under my protection.” Darien growled.

Her brown brows jerked upward.

“Yep,” he said for her ears only. “She’s one of ours until I can send her home to her own pack, so mind your P’s and Q’s. I won’t have anyone treating her poorly. You can tell your friends I said so.”

“Well, well,” Silva said, slipping in on the conversation. Darien swore she had hearing that beat anybody’s. “So she’s an official member of the pack already.”

“Unofficial. And you can spread the word.” If anyone could, it was Silva.

“Will do, boss.” Sliva winked. “She doesn’t look too good. Been asking for a Doctor Weber. Figure it’s her pack doctor. Kind of out of it. I don’t think she realizes she’s not back home, wherever that is.”

“Where’s Doc Oliver?”

“Stitching up Sam.” Silva glanced at Ritka. “Doc says if you want to keep getting a paycheck you’d better get into exam room number three, now.”

Cursing under her breath, Ritka shoved past her and stalked down the hall.

Darien shook his head. Silver Town wouldn’t be considered civilized by big town standards. He headed for room number four and glanced over his shoulder when Silva followed behind him. “Don’t need an escort.”

“Is that an order?”

Ignoring her, Darien walked into the white room, where the smell of antiseptic was overwhelming. Larissa blinked her eyes. The railings were locked in place to keep her from falling out of the bed, her wrists were restrained. Her face was ghastly pale in stark contrast to her black hair, stretching down to her waist over the white sheets. How could one little red lupus garou walk into town and turn it upside down?

“Why is she restrained?” Darien drew closer to the bed, wanting to touch her, to assure himself she was real and well on the road to recovery.

“Ritka said she tried to climb out of bed, but she might have restrained her out of spite.”

“Nope.” Doc Oliver said, walking into the room. “Little lady tried to leave when I showed up instead of some Doctor Weber.” He folded his arms and observed her. “She’s Lelandi’s twin, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Darien said. “By the name of Larissa.”

“She’s got tenacity. Even as bad off as she is, four of us had to restrain her. She’s on heavy-duty medication, and even so, she’s fighting it.”

Her eyes were no longer blue, not as amber as Lelandi’s but more green. “She must have been wearing contacts.”

“Took them out,” Doc said.

“Can you do anything about the hair?” Darien asked, half-joking.

“Melba can strip the color, try to make it more like the color of her eyebrows. She does human hair all the time,” Silva said.

“I’m not serious.”

Silva touched Larissa’s hair. “The dye won’t hold anyway once the change takes place. Hmm, there’s your solution, boss. In three days, she can change into the wolf, and it’ll zap that hideous dye job from her hair.”

“She won’t be here that long, if I can help it.”

“Three days.” Doc stroked his whiskerless chin. “Not sure she’ll be ready to leave that soon.”

“She’s that bad off?”

“She’s pretty weak. Doc Mitchell gave her some blood. So did Jake. Three days is pushing it.”

Darien shook his head. The longer she stayed in Silver Town, the more trouble she’d be.

Doc cleared his throat. “No one knows what this is about. Is there another gunman? Just the one? Did someone hire him? Will there be another hit? Lot of folks are pretty angry that the gunman wounded two of ours and no word why or who is behind the whole thing. Sending her away isn’t the solution, until we know what’s going on. What If Lelandi didn’t commit suicide?”

In disbelief, Darien stared at Doc. “You said she’d committed suicide, and Doc Featherston certified it. Besides, my uncle said the same thing. As sheriff, he investigated the matter and—”

“And came to the same conclusion. But. Darien, you’re pretty persuasive when you want to be, and you were so hell-bent on believing she’d committed suicide we went along with it.”

“For Odin’s sake, Doc, if the three of you believed it was murder, you would have said.”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Then don’t blame it on me!” Darien glanced at Silva to see her take on it.

Her dark brows raised a notch.

“Don’t tell me you had reservations, too.”

“I’m just the barmaid.” Silva threw her hands up in an exasperated gesture. “No one listens to anything I have to say.”

“Well?”

“Truthfully?”

He growled.

“Hell, Darien, truthfully, I don’t know. But something’s not right, now that her sister comes along and gets the whole town shot up.”

His mates twin sighed deeply. She blinked a couple of times, but didn’t focus on anything.

“She’s got to be here for three more days, then, eh, Doc?” Darien asked.

“In town, yes. She shouldn’t travel a great distance. But she can stay somewhere else for the next couple of days. Tonight, I want to keep an eye on her. She’ll need someone to look after her once she leaves here.”

“You’re the boss, boss,” Sllva said, “but Sam can do without me a couple of days. I’ll look after her. I’m just about the only female in town who liked Lelandi, so maybe I can do her sister a favor.”

“What if someone’s still aiming to get Larissa?” Doc asked.

Darien considered her groggy state. “Peter’s making sure she has around-the-clock protection.”

“Have Trevor do the inside surveillance, won’t you?” Silva winked.

Uncle Sheridan stormed into the room, looking like a stuck bull. “What In the Sam Hill is going on?” His voice boomed, though at six-four, everything about the man seemed overbearing and loud.

“You’re in my hospital now, Sheriff,” Doc said, “Keep your yelling down to a low roar.”

“You haven’t heard yelling. Doc. Gone two days of a ten-day vacation and what happens? Where were those two worthless deputies of mine?”

Silva cleared her throat, “Trevor was busy overseeing the clearing of a landslide on the highway, Sheriff. Don’t know what Peter was doing.”

“Peter was with us.” Jake said, walking into the room. He glanced at Larissa. “Should we be discussing this here?”

“She’s the cause of it, Ritka told me,” the sheriff countered, motioning at Larissa.

“She’d certainly say so.” Silva folded her arms and gave the sheriff a disgruntled look.

“Well, isn’t she? The woman started stirring up trouble at the tavern. Next thing you know, three people are shot. I want to know what the hell’s going on.”

“It’s your job to find out.” Darien didn’t bother to curb the acid in his voice.

Doc put Larissa’s chart back in the folder. “Got some other patients to see to. Need to speak to you when you can spare a moment, Darien.”

“My...” Larissa paused. “My sister... was... murdered,” she stammered, then shut her eyes.

Everyone stared at her in stunned silence.

Darien had figured that’s what Lelandi’s sister must have thought. “Since she doesn’t have any family here, I want you to sit with her for a couple of hours, Silva.”

“Sure, and miss out on the fun stuff.” Silva pulled a vinyl-covered chair next to the bed. “Have Trevor run by my place and pick up one of my novels, will ya? Give me something to do while I’m babysitting.”

“I’ll ask him.” Jake said.

The sheriff yanked off his Stetson and waved it at Jake. “Hold on here just a blamed minute. He works for me, and I’ve got an investigation to conduct.”

Darien raised his brows at his uncle.

The sheriff’s brown eyes darkened and narrowed. “WelI, hell, if it only takes a minute, I guess I can spare him.”

Jake added. “Tom’s asking to see you, Darien, and he wants to take a peek at Larissa to see for himself that she’s all right, but Doc says he has to stay put for the time being.”

“All right. Come on, Uncle Sheridan. We’ll fill you in on all we know, though it’s not much.” Darien ushered everyone out of the room.

Larissa looked small, pale, the spitting image of Lelandi, except for the hideous black hair, now that the contacts, glasses, earrings, and hat were gone. His heart lurched when her eyelids fluttered open, and she caught him gawking at her. He refused to get caught up in the bewitching enchantments of his dead mate’s twin.

She closed her eyes and released his gaze.

Crap, she was as much a lure as her sister. Best to keep distance between himself and the temptress.

He caught Silva’s smug smile, his body heated to boiling, and he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Boots tromped down the hospital hall, then everything grew quiet. The medicine took hold, the tranquility drawing her into another world, and Lelandi’s heart lightened at the scene before her.

Mist filled her vision, and he came to her.

Naked. His bronzed body glistening in the brilliant light of the full moon. Proud, determined, his mission— to ravish her—again.

So what took him so long?

Tall with broad shoulders, his chest magnificently muscled, moving with the grace and ease of a wolf he stalked toward her. Whereas most of her kind were shorter and the ones in power, squatter, more bull-like, this man was Adonis reborn.

She still couldn’t see his face, doused in shadows, teasing her, making her strain to see his features. Her eyes shifted to his chest. Lower. To his erection. He was ready for her. Always ready, his sex jutting upward surrounded by sable curls.

She breathed in deeply, trying to smell his unique scent, wishing she could locate him in the real world upon waking, but her keen wolf senses couldn’t pick up his manly scent—not in a dream.

Reclining on the grass on her side, she watched him as he strode toward her, every hard muscle rippling with his gait. Yet, just the vision of him five months ago had been enough to bring her into her first wolf heat, way long overdue. How could a fantasy lover have brought that about?

She wanted to call out his name like a lover would her mate, but she couldn’t fathom what it was. The warm summer breeze stirred the Douglas firs, casting dancing moonlight across his body. His lips turned up slightly, bemused His mouth, his sturdy jaw line, his shoulder-length sable hair ruffled by the breeze. Show me more! She wanted to see his eyes, his nose, the rest of his face—but as much as she strained to see them, she couldn’t—the rest of his features remained hidden in the black void.

He towered over her, took in a deep breath, and tried to smell her. She saw the intake of his breath, knew what he was attempting to do. A queer feeling of unease washed over her. She squashed the unwelcome worry. He was not real. Just the most consummate lover a dream could conjure up.

He lay down beside her, and she ran her finger over his brow, finding it furrowed. For the first time since their union, he seemed contemplative, unrushed, as if he wanted more than the sex they shared.

Leaning over, he nuzzled her lips with his mouth, licking them, smiling. Positioning himself closer, he rested his head on his hand and appeared to study her. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words would never come. He touched her hair, ran his fingers through the strands, held them to his nose and took a deep breath.

Could he smell her scent when she couldn‘t sense his?

He traced her arm, down to her hip, his heated touch stirring a fire across her sensitive skin. She drew close, pressing her breasts against his chest, took his face in her hands, and moved her lips against his in a searing kiss. She swore she heard him growl this time, but then he glanced over his shoulder, as if something in the woods had distracted him. Danger?

He shook his head and gave her a lusty smile. Knowingly, she returned the expression, her nipples already taut from touching his lightly furred chest, her short curly hairs damp with need, her core aching for his penetration.

In a heartbeat, he moved her onto her back, pushed her legs apart with his knee, and thrust his rigid shaft deep inside her. His mouth on hers, he conquered her, and she gave into the rush of heat, the burning desire he stirred within her, the flickering flames consuming her as she climbed toward the ice-white moon.

Their bodies slick, they slid against each other, panting, thrusting, deepening the bond until she felt the mind-shattering release, the orgasm crashing through her like a heated summer storm.

Muffled voices farther down the hail invaded Lelandi’s private, scattered thoughts.

Her dream lover slipped away into the shadows, vanishing, the moon winked out, and the sun took its place, peeking through the blinds. She wished she were back in the woods with her fantasy lover, no cares in the world but of being pleasured by him and pleasuring him in return. Groaning, Lelandi tried to run her hands through her tangled hair, her skin sweaty from her romp with him.

But something held her down—him?

Chapter 6

LELANDI OPENED HER EYES AND BRILLIANT WHITE LIGHTS flooded her vision. Where was the ceiling fan in her bedroom? She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to orient herself. The odor of antiseptics filled the air. Her eyes popped open. White sheets, railings caging her in on an elevated narrow bed. What the...

She tried to reach up, to rub her temple as her thoughts spun out of control, but she couldn’t. Leather restraints wrapped around her wrists pinned her to the bed—not the man of her dreams.

Her sister. Oh, God, and her parents, too, were dead.

Tears filled her eyes and her heart lodged like a lump of stone in her throat. She sobbed with a strangled whimper and a teary haze blurred her vision. Yanking at the restraints, she fought the mounting frustration, her body heating by degrees.

Closing her eyes, she licked her dry lips. What she wouldn’t give for an icy pink lemonade. Summer heat had returned with a vengeance, and she felt like she’d been burned to a crisp under the broiling sun like she had at the beach in South Padre Island a few years back.

A rustling noise caught her attention—Silva searching through Lelandi’s purse.

Silva smiled, her ruby lips glistening with fresh gloss, a coating of brown eye shadow emphasizing the darkness of her coffee-colored eyes. “No driver’s license. How’d you get to Silver Town? No rental cars unaccounted for. Deputy Sheriff Trevor checked the cars parked around town, and none belong to a Larissa Catterton.”

It finally dawned on Lelandi. Her sister had switched first names with her. What a mess. “Catterton?”

Silva tsked. “So that wasn’t Lelandi’s last name.”

No, and Lelandi wasn’t her first name either, although no one had listened to her the times she’d corrected them before.

“So what is your real last name?” Silva poured a cup of ice water for her, then set it on the table.

With her wrists secured, Lelandi couldn’t reach the water. “Lelandi.” She wasn’t about to reveal her real last name. “I’m... I’m burning up.”

Silva’s eyes widened, and she hurried over to the bed. Her long, icy fingers touched Lelandi’s forehead, instantly sending a chili streaking down her heated nerves. “You’re burning up.”

“I already said that,” Lelandi whispered, annoyed.

“Okay, okay. I’ll get some help.”

“Can you unfasten my chains,” Lelandi said sarcastically. “help me to sit up, and give me some ice water to drink?”

Silva shifted her worried gaze to the wristbands confining her. “I’ll get the doc.”

“Doctor Weber,” Lelandi said, firmly.

“Uhm, you’re at the hospital in Silver Town, sugar. I’m sure Doctor Weber wouldn’t want to come all the way here from wherever you know him for one little ol’ patient.”

Lelandi yanked at the leather wrist bracelets to no avail.

If it had been a regular hospital, they probably would have used Velcro restraints, and those she could have tugged loose. She pulled at the restraints again, rattling the bed railings, but her movements were dulled and of no use, making her skin heat even more.

Satisfied Lelandi wasn’t getting loose, Silva left the room. Within minutes, her worried voice echoed down the hall while she spoke to someone about the fever. But before she or the doctor returned, a woman wearing blue scrubs walked into the room.

“I’m Nurse Grey.” The woman’s face was matronly, with kindly gray eyes and lips that were pale, but slightly turned up. “Looks like you’ve been rather cantankerous.”

“Not me.” Lelandi mumbled.

The nurse chuckled, the sound good-hearted, while she read Lelandi’s chart. “Busy girl. Heard some wild rumors. You’re looking into your sister’s death and already stirred up a heap of trouble.”

Lelandi had made a royal mess of it, but whoever had killed her sister was bound to slip up. When he did, she’d make him suffer for what he’d done. She closed her burning eyes.

“Seems a lot of trouble for a little red lupus garou to get into first time in Silver Town.”

Although the woman seemed nice enough. Lelandi didn’t trust her. Lelandi was probably giving their pack leader prime grade heartburn, and she wasn’t going away. Some would be wary, some outright rude, and some, sweet like Sam. Silva, and this Nurse Grey, but only on the surface. Deep down, pack mates stuck up for pack mates, and she was an outsider investigating them.

Tom was another story. He definitely indicated he had the hots for her, but she wasn’t biting.

“If you’ll behave, I’ll remove the restraints.” After Nurse Grey took her temperature, she frowned. “Hundred and three.” She changed her antibiotics and removed the restraints.

Lelandi let out a low growl, and the woman smiled. Yeah, wolves didn’t like confinement, and she was ready to bite anyone who’d helped restrain her, including Ritka and the doctor.

“Doc wants you to drink fluids, but slowly. You might feel nauseous from the surgery and pain medication.”

“Nurse Grey,” Silva said, walking into the room. “I thought you were off today and tomorrow.”

The nurse shrugged. “I thought so, too. Seems we had some trouble during the night.”

Lelandi hid a smile, then sipped cold water from a straw, shivered, and slumped back under her covers. If she didn’t get more energy soon, she’d scream.

“She sure isn’t like Lelandi.” Silva studied her as if she could see her insides, too.

Nurse Grey refilled Lelandi’s water cup. “Looks the same, except for the hair.”

“Can you imagine Lelandi taking on Ritka and her gang?”

The nurse smiled. “Guess I ought to go to the Silver Town Tavern more often. Sam said when he saw her walk into the joint, he knew it would shake Darien out of the pit of despair he’s been wallowing in.”

“Yeah, but in a good way, or bad?” Silva raised her brows to punctuate her statement. “You should have seen the way he kissed her.”

Nurse Grey glanced at Lelandi. “Already?”

“Hell, he wanted to kiss her in the tavern, but he was trying to keep up appearances.” Silva pushed her hair back over her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips. “She started talking about lupus garou, and he had to stop her. But the kiss lasted longer than necessary and made her pass right out. I’m sure when the other eligible bitches hear about it, they’ll be fuming.”

Nurse Grey’s eyes sparkled with intrigue.

“So, is she going to be all right?”

“When are we not? She’ll be fine. However, the fever makes it more of a setback. I notice on the chart, Doc says he’ll release her tomorrow. Might be too soon.”

“She should be in jail for popping Ritka in the eye,” a dark-haired man said as he strode into the room, his eyes black, his police khaki uniform perfectly pressed, a jacket slung over his shoulder. His Stetson shaded his eyes, giving him an even darker-tempered appearance.

Silva smiled at him. Well, more than smiled at him, nearly melted in his presence.

Truly smitten. Lelandi wondered if the same love bug had bitten him or if it was only a one-way street. He didn’t show the same kind of moonstruck attraction when he looked at Silva.

“Why, Trevor, you done with that mess on the highway?” Silva asked, her voice sweet as spun sugar.

“Sheriff chewed my butt for not taking care of her mess.” He jerked a thumb in Lelandi’s direction. “Said shootings take priority over mud slides. Hell, they needed someone to reroute traffic. Four accidents out there. Six injuries.”

“Silva stuck up for you when she didn’t need to. Lelandi glowered back at the deputy. Silva’s mouth dropped open. Seems you owe her thanks. No one else bothered to defend your actions.”

Trevor shoved his hands in his pockets and continued to glare at Lelandi. “Who was the man who shot you?”

She closed her eyes. Question the bastard! How would she know who he was?

“He shot you in the chest twice—”

“Three times.” she said, her breathing still ragged, “but who’s counting?”

“You’re one of us, well, kinda, and you can see as well as we can in the dark, so who was he?”

Silva tsked. “Can’t you question her later, when she’s not so bad off?”

Trevor’s face reddened. “That’s another thing.” he said, his voice elevating. “Who the hell shot him dead, and why didn’t anyone question him first?”

Silva cleared her throat. “Trevor, we’ve given the sheriff our statements. Someone shot him from a distance. We never saw who it was, and after he did the deed, he never came down to see if Sam was all right. Unless he did, but just blended with the men who came to Investigate the shots fired. The word Is Darien might be so mad at whoever the shooter was for not just wounding the gunman, the guy’s not telling.”

“Yeah, anyone would be afraid Darien would be pissed, especially the way he’s been acting lately.”

“Did anyone tell you that you’ll be guarding us at my place?” Silva asked, her tone sweet and innocent.

Trevor scowled at her. “Babysitting?”

“Never know. Trouble seems to follow her. You could be in the thick of it this time.”

Nurse Grey shook her head. “You can’t mean the young lady will be going to your town house, Silva. She needs to remain here.”

“I think Doc’s worried the hospital isn’t secure enough for her.”

“Jail cell will do the job.” Trevor shoved his hat back and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Ah. Trevor.” Silva furrowed her brow at him.

“Hell, I saw how she beat up Ritka.”

Lelandi smiled. The woman couldn’t have been more outraged when paramedics wheeled Lelandi into the hospital. Luckily, the doctor ordered two men to watch over her, making sure Ritka didn’t finish what the gunman had begun.

“Hell, look at the way she’s smiling about it. No remorse or anything. Criminal behavior if I ever saw it.”

“They started it,” Silva argued. “Three against one, and every one of them is bigger than her.”

“Ritka said this one started it to prove she’s after Darien, like her sister had been.”

“Ha! Darien did the chasing. Hell. Lelandi didn’t stand a chance.”

Trevor’s face grew crimson again. “I’ve got work to do, straightening out this mess. Then I guess I’ve got babysitting duty later.”

Lelandi swore he looked hopeful something bad would happen so he’d get in on the real action this time and be able to prove to his boss how important he was.

He stalked out.

“I’ve got to check on Tom, but if she needs anything, just holler,” Nurse Grey said, then left.

“Guess it’s just you and me, kid. Silva sat in the vinyl chair against the wall. “You look like you can barely stay awake. Why don’t you get some sleep?”

“My sister didn’t chase Darien?” Lelandi squeaked, hating that her voice was so out of control like the rest of her.

“Hardly. Darien doesn’t like women who chase him. He likes to do the pursuing.” Silva leaned back in the chair and rolled her sun-streaked chestnut hair between two fingers.

She really was a striking woman and Lelandi wondered why Darien didn’t seem attracted to her.

Silva smiled. “So if you’re interested in getting his attention, don’t go hunting him down.”

“Wouldn’t think of It.” Lelandi wanted to roll onto her stomach, the way she normally slept, but she couldn’t with the IV in place. Plus, she had a sneaking suspicion her wounds would give her fits if she tried.

“On the other hand, if you want him to leave you alone...”

Lelandi stopped struggling with her thin white cotton blanket and looked over at Silva.

“Act really interested in him.”

“Not happening.” This time Lelandi’s words came out loud and clear, to both her surprise and Silva’s amusement.

“Uh-huh, well your choice.”

“Listen.” Lelandi ‘s voice did the raspy, hoarse bit again. “I’m here for one thing only. Finding out who killed my sister and why, and terminating him. I’m not interested in some alpha gray pack leader who just buried his mate who happened to be my triplet. End of story.”

“Triplet? Ohmigod, don’t tell me there’s another one of you. The news will put Darien in an early grave for sure.”

“My brother, and if he were here, he’d search for our sister’s killer.”

“Oh, he must be a rogue, an alpha male, and must have left your pack. So, where is he now?”

Lelandi’s eyes misted and she shrugged, wishing to hell her brother or even her uncle, who was seven years older than them, would help her.

Silva chewed on her bottom lip. “What if the dead gunman killed your sister?”

“He didn’t.”

“You sound so certain. How do you know?”

Darien walked into the room, making both Silva and Lelandi gasp. How long had he been listening in on their private conversation?

“How do you know he wasn’t the one who killed Lelandi, assuming she didn’t commit suicide?” he asked, his voice harsh and accusatory.

“She told me.”

Darien’s jaw tightened. “Don’t tell me. You had secret triplet communication.”

“If you mean she sent me a letter, yeah, she did.” Lelandi swore he looked sicker than she felt, which had to be pretty hard to do the way she was feeling.

“You okay, boss?” Silva asked.

An alpha male did not faint. But his face had turned paler than her sheets, and she figured he was on the verge.

He gripped the doorframe for a minute, then growled, “Where’s the letter?”

She wanted to fold her arms to prove she wasn’t afraid of his alpha wolf posturing, but she thought better of it when she remembered the IV. Instead, she closed her eyes and listened to the hammering of his heart against his ribs.

“Tell me, damn it! Where’s the letter?”

His voice grew closer, his breathing hard. She might have been afraid of him if it wasn’t for the medicine making her loopy. Opening her eyes, she tried glaring at him when he gripped her bed railing, glowering at her as If he wished to kill her himself, but she wasn’t sure she was sharing her meanest look with him the way her eyelids kept drooping. She hadn’t an ounce of energy to spare.

“She’s in a bad way, Darien. Let her rest and you can question her later.”

“Now, damn it. I want some answers now.”

As a wolf, she could imagine his teeth would be dangerous, but as a human, they were beautiful, straight, white, clenched, and...

She yawned and closed her eyes.

“Damn it. speak!”

A small laugh sounded. It wasn’t from her, but when she opened her eyes, both Silva and Darien were staring at her. She realized that it was from her, after all.