With Her Capture (15 page)

Something smelled different on this side of
the mountain. Inhaling, and taking his time looking at everything
around him, he suddenly understood what had changed in the air.
Other werewolves had been here recently.

Ayden took off running, indifferent to his
paw slipping when rocks spewed out from underneath him and pounded
their way down the dangerous slope. He leapt around prickly
undergrowth. He flew over boulders. He didn’t slow when he reached
the clearing beneath her cave. Ayden ran up the incline to the
ledge where branches and rocks blocked the view to the cave’s
entrance. And he slid to a stop.

So many things were wrong.

The entrance was only partially blocked. He
sniffed the air, a growl escaping him at the same time. Ayden
immediately noticed that instead of a fire burning, he smelled damp
wood and ash. He didn’t smell Magda.

Barging around the blockade into the cave he
came up short. There on the floor in front of his paws was a stick
lying next to two words. In his culture there were certain
traditions no one questioned. When approaching another litter’s
den, a werewolf always waited until properly invited inside. One
male always respected another male’s territory, female, and pups.
His kind used certain expressions that probably had been used
beyond generations into a millennium before.

When a werewolf said
good hunting
he,
or she, meant they wished another werewolf well and would see them
soon. If a werewolf said
hunt well
, which Ayden saw printed
in block letters before him, it meant they were leaving and wished
the other werewolf a good and prosperous life.

To the left of the two words there was a
vertical line a few spaces to the side. Ayden stared at it a
moment, his emotions too torn to allow him to grasp what he was
seeing. Instinct always dominated in his fur, which was probably
the only reason he didn’t start screaming in outrage loud enough to
echo off the entire stream of mountains in this region. Instead, he
stared at the one line, drawn as if it might be the letter I.

Lowering his head, he sniffed the ground, his
breath creating a puff in the ground and disturbing the one
vertical line. Moving his head, he again searched for any scent on
the other words. His exhale again disturbed part of the message.
Magda had started writing something. Instead of scratching out what
she’d started to write she’d simply moved over a bit and restarted
her message.

I…something. His heart swelled so much the
change threatened his insides simply so he could accommodate the
emotions in his human form. His animal form wouldn’t accept what he
was feeling.

Nonetheless, he understood the pain in his
chest. Magda was gone. She’d left without saying goodbye. She’d
left a simple message wishing him well.

Stepping over the message he walked around
the fire. She’d doused it with water. He stared a moment at dead
fish and the large pot that was still damp from the water that had
been used to put out the fire. The backpack he’d torn the day
before was on the cave floor. Ayden stuck his nose inside the bag.
Her scent was so strong there he buried his head in the fabric and
breathed in deeply.

His insides hardened. The truth was too
intense. There was a picture laid out before him. The side of his
cheek brushed against the needle she’d used to mend the bag. Thread
was attached to it bound into a tight knot. Magda had told him she
hated mending things.

Ayden lifted his head and took in the entire
picture. She’d hunted, brought fish in to prepare her kill for him.
A pot of water proved she’d planned on cleaning and preparing the
meat. There had been a fire going. He saw where she’d stood, her
footprints a slight indention near where she’d written her message.
She’d spent time working on mending the backpack but had stopped
working on it, either out of frustration because of her dislike of
the task or because something had distracted her, like the smell of
other werewolves.

One of the backpacks was gone, as were all of
her clothes. The clothes Ayden had sniffed out for her. The
toiletries he’d obtained for her were also gone.

Magda had been in the middle of morning
chores. Werewolves had come too close to her for comfort. She’d
panicked and she’d run. His
beaute noire
hadn’t trusted him
enough to protect her.

Granted, he hadn’t been here. But didn’t
Magda know by now that he knew every Cariboo on this mountain? If
anyone had sniffed her out they would have herded her into the
pack. Where, regardless of any consequences, Ayden would have
howled for her. If that hadn’t worked, he would have killed for
her.

She had to know that.

He let out a fierce roar and it echoed off
the cave walls. Magda was his female. She belonged to him. His
scent was embedded in her flesh, and hers in his. Maybe they hadn’t
voiced out loud that they were mated. It was the twenty-first
century. Males and females allowed time in today’s world for their
human emotions to catch up with what their more carnal instinct
already knew.

Leaping around the wet ashes, Ayden slid into
the message she’d left for him. His paws destroyed the two words.
Then bounding out of the cave, Ayden took off in a full forced run.
He would hunt well. He would hunt down his female. And when he
finally captured her, he would make sure it sunk into her adorable,
stubborn head that she belonged to him.

It wasn’t hard picking up her scent. He’d
tracked before, and under worse circumstances. Snow began falling.
The wind settled as he descended the mountain. He’d give Magda this
much. She did know how to hide, and throw off her scent. Ayden knew
his territory, though. Even the less inhabited parts of the
mountains.

What the fuck
? he snarled under his
breath after chasing her scent down the mountain.

Ayden had been sure he’d pounce on her hot
little tail long before reaching the bottom of the mountain. He
slowed at a narrow human road, glancing up and down it. He’d lost
her scent. There was no way Magda had escaped him.

Pacing the side of the road and sniffing the
ground, he imagined she knew he was following her. It fueled the
predator in him and made the hunt all the more intense. Thoughts of
fucking her senseless, once he had her in his paws, had him almost
pouncing up and down the side of the road.

Then he found what he was looking for,
although not what he’d expected. Ayden studied the small prints
along the side of the road. They weren’t paw prints though. Magda
had found time to change into her human form, get dressed, and
still stay ahead of him. He stared at the boot prints that looked
very much like the bottom of the boots he’d gotten for Magda.

There was also the smell of diesel. Someone
had stopped, then taken off again. Magda had changed into her human
form, dressed, then hitchhiked. Had a human picked her up? No way
would she get in a truck with another werewolf.

He had plenty of time to speculate on what
Magda might have done. The most logical answer being that she
accepted a ride from a human into Banff, then got lost in the human
part of the town, which was full of tourists. The popular ski
resort had many human hotels and bed and breakfasts. Although many
businesses in Banff were owned by a member of the large owl
parliament that dominated the town, there were humans who also
lived there. According to the howlings, a small pack of leopards,
who now resided outside of Banff, were becoming business owners in
town as well. The place was a melting pot of species. Although
humans knew of the owls, and probably the leopards too, most liked
to smell as if they were oblivious to anyone around them but their
own kind. Disappearing among them was the perfect way for Magda to
avoid having anyone howl that she was a Malta werewolf.

Ayden hoped his theory was right, since he
also needed time to prepare for chasing her again. But he didn’t
plan on sniffing out the human part of Banff. His scent would be
easy for Magda to pick up on if he stalked into one of their
establishments and she was there. If she took off running, he’d
leap on her. Not a good sight for humans to see. Ayden ducked back
into the trees and took off running. He knew exactly where he’d
go.

“Ayden Toubec, what brings you to our humble
establishment?” Elisa Hampton, co-owner of one of the nicer bed and
breakfasts on the out skirts of Banff, greeted him when he entered
the lobby.

The tall, slender female was a Great Horned
owl. Elaine Hampton, the other female in their nest, stood behind
the glossy counter. The strong smell of humans lingered in the
place, although it was no secret that the rather pricey
establishment did so well due to humans who came to ski. The
Hampton nest allowed any species to stay at their bed and
breakfast. Ayden wasn’t there simply because the two owls were
impartial to Cariboo. It was howled the Hampton females offered
other services as well, which was why he’d decided to pay their
higher prices and get a room.

Elisa stood almost as tall as Ayden, and
seemed to flow across the lobby as she approached him. Her pale
blonde hair fell down her back. There were streaks of silver in it,
which matched the color of the dress she wore. Elisa was slender.
Her dark gray eyes were a bit too round. It was a distinctive trait
with all owls. In their human form, unlike other species, they
didn’t quite pull off looking completely human.

“It’s been a while since a Cariboo has graced
us with their presence,” she said, her soft voice almost monotone.
Her scent gave no indication whether that mattered to her, or
not.

Ayden guessed that it didn’t. All he was able
to do was guess, though. Owls were masters at restraining their
emotions. It was very rare to pick up anything from their scent. He
smiled easily, knowing he probably smelled and looked rather
unkempt. Elisa didn’t appear to notice.

“Your place looks as impressive as always,”
he offered, keeping his greeting pleasant. “The howlings are you’ve
made quite a success with Hampton’s bed and breakfast.”

“It’s true.” Elisa’s expression remained
relaxed, indifferent. “And are you here for a room?”

“Yes.” He had the pleasure of seeing what
might be construed as surprise. Another time he might have bragged
with a satisfied bark over witnessing an owl show a reaction to
something he’d just said. Right now, it didn’t matter to him what
the owl thought. “I need a room. And information, as well as
someone to make a run for me, if you have anyone who might be able
to help.”

“We strive to make all our guests happy.” She
never blinked. Her actions were typical for an owl but it was
probably also true that she’d had this conversation with many
guests and responded automatically. Elisa gestured to the counter,
lifting her long, thin arm and moving elegant fingers. “Elaine will
check you in. Are you hungry?”

Ayden paid a hefty price for the room. He had
no intention of sleeping there but listened as Elaine explained the
room’s amenities. “If you prefer breakfast in your room we can
arrange that. We own the land up the mountain if you wish to hunt,”
she added, her dark, round eyes never leaving Ayden’s face. “There
is also a buffet and all meat served is, of course, local and
fresh.”

He had no doubts. Ayden responded with a
quick nod, picked his keycard off the smooth, marble countertop
between them and glanced at the room number. Although it had been
years, he’d been there before. When the owls first opened for
business they had encouraged all species to check out the place.
Ayden and Anthony had come for the party.

That was a different life from now. He barely
heard Elaine tell him how to get to his room. “Thank you,” he
grunted, knowing if he smelled rude it would dishonor and offend
them more than if he’d roared in anger for them to be quiet and
send for someone to help him in what he needed done that
evening.

Taking the wide staircase two steps at a
time, he reached the second floor and bounded down the hallway to
his room. A few minutes later he paced over thick carpet, walking
around the king sized four-poster bed in the room. Ayden stalked
from the large, thick-glass window that had an even thicker set of
drapes covering it, to the door and back again. He wouldn’t have
cared if the room was a dump. All he wanted was the service that
the owls were known for offering.

The Hampton bed and breakfast was surrounded
by a thick grove of trees on the edge of the mountain. It wouldn’t
take long to run into Banff through the trees and change into his
flesh before entering town. He was more than capable of finding
Magda without help, except for the fact that he’d probably take out
half of Banff hunting her. Ayden didn’t like asking for help. He
preferred handling matters his way. In spite of mounting irritation
the longer he paced, the urge to run mounting inside him, he knew
hunting Magda in Banff might draw attention to her.

That was why he had howled that someone be
sent to him. Owls were very good at discreetly locating someone,
and didn’t mind offering their services for a price. Ayden forced
himself to calm down by dwelling on what he’d do once he had his
paws on his hot little
beaute noire
. It helped him keep the
room from reeking of anger and frustration.

If his hunch was right and Magda made a
temporary den out of one of the human motels in town, Ayden plotted
out how he’d approach her once the owl told him where she was.
Kicking the door to the room in was his first thought, although
humans didn’t seem to understand how that action was necessary at
times. It didn’t bother Ayden if Magda might get pissed by the
action. She could howl all she wanted about his actions once he
found her. There were a few of her actions he planned on howling
about, too.