Wolf at the Door (5 page)

“Did you know the victims?”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “The first
one? Kelsey Monroe. She’d been part of my pack. He said she was
looking for me, poking around at my apartment, tracing the route
I’d taken back and forth from work. After that, no. Not until
Becky.”

“How long were you with him?”

She sank into her chair then. “A year. Maybe
a little more, because I don’t remember how long he had me before
he killed Kelsey. After that though, I knew. Every full moon, I
knew. There was no letting time slip away then. I tried so many
times to escape. I told him so many lies about ways to change him
that I hoped would kill him.”

Brandt didn’t blame her for the hate that
lingered in her eyes. He hated the bastard, too, and would make
sure Charles Wolfe paid dearly for his crimes. “How’d you get
away?”

“The last victim. I didn’t even know her
name, not until afterwards, when I read about her in the paper. But
he dragged her into the room. Said he thought he had a foolproof
plan. She picked up on what he wanted, knew what he was going to do
to her, so she said she’d tell him how to become a wolf. It was a
lie, but the moment I saw what she was doing I started begging her
to shut up. He wouldn’t believe me anymore, but if he thought I was
trying to shut her up? That...that worked.”

A knock sounded at the front door and Brandt
bit off a curse. “Stay right here, won’t be a moment.”

She didn’t even look at him as he went to the
front door, no doubt too lost in her gruesome memories. It had to
be a horror film, one he wished she didn’t have to relive. He
shoved open the front door. Tate stood there, hands in his
pockets.

“What?” Brandt bit out.

“All clear. He didn’t linger. From what we
can tell, the car was parked out on the road. He dropped her gift,
walked around the house, lingered below the second story window at
the back of the place. The one by the oak out there? Smelled like
he tried to climb it. Walked around the rest of the house and left.
Can’t do anything about the rest of the pack without names and
addresses.”

“Leave it for now. Pass the evidence over to
the night shift pack and go home and get some rest. What little you
can before we have to officially be on shift, anyway. I have to
finish up here first.”

Tate’s eyes narrowed. He should have known.
There was no way Tate would go home to sleep while Brandt kept
working. “Boss?”

“Charles Wolfe. Run the name. Dig up every
scrap of information you can on him. Find out everything.”

There was a question in the other Hound’s
face, but thankfully he held off on asking. Brandt didn’t want to
explain, he just wanted to get back inside and let Timber finish.
As if he knew, Tate gave a slight nod. “Yes, sir.”

Brandt turned back to Timber. She was
watching him, and he could practically feel her trying to figure
him out. “You okay?” he asked softly.

“You’re the first Hound I’ve ever met who
actually seems to give a damn.”

He’d heard her story. He could believe that.
“I hate to admit it, but we’re still few and far between. Times are
changing, but not fast enough. And it doesn’t undo the past.”

“Fair enough.”

“So you escaped the night the twelfth victim
died three years ago?”

Timber nodded. “She convinced him that he had
to be bitten by a shifter in wolf form while fucking his mate. But
I couldn’t be touching silver. He had to let his inner beast out,
and mine couldn’t be restrained.”

Nausea churned in Brandt’s gut.

“I think she was hoping we could overpower
him...with him focused on me and her in wolf form, she might be
able to kill him and save us both.”

“But it backfired.”

“Yeah. He insisted she had to bite him where
he could watch her. He wasn’t stupid. She attacked him, but he shot
her before she could kill him. He was pissed then. All-out
rampage.” Timber blew out a long, slow breath. “He knew I’d played
him again. He grabbed his knife. He never used the gun on me. Too
easy for me to end up dead.”

“And a knife wasn’t?”

“It was a little one. He could control the
cuts.”

“Jesus,” Brandt said, his body on the verge
of shifting to predator form. He wanted nothing more than to find
that bastard. Wolfe wasn’t human anymore, and the moment he’d
gotten his wish and became a shifter, he’d lost the right to a
prison cell. The only thing coming for Wolfe now was a silver
bullet.

“At first it was just the normal shit. Then
he decided I needed a more severe punishment. Maybe I’d stop
fighting him so much then.” Her hand moved to her left breast and
Brandt remembered the way her night shirt had hung flat there when
she hadn’t had time to dress. He’d thought breast cancer. One look
at her face then, and he knew he’d been wrong. “I blacked out from
the pain or blood loss or something. I don’t know. It was hazy
after that. When I woke up, he’d done a shitty job stitching me up,
but he and the body were gone.”

“Let me guess, he forgot the chain?”

Timber gave him a weary smile. “I think he
thought I wasn’t going to wake up in any hurry. But the moment I
came to and realized nothing was tying me down, I was gone.”

“Was he turned that night?”

“No. It might have worked if he’d let her do
it her way and she’d really gotten to maul his ass, but as badly as
he wanted to be a wolf, he wanted to stay alive more.”

Figured. It would have saved them all a lot
of trouble. Brandt gazed at her. Timber looked exhausted, as if
she’d had to vividly relive every moment of her time with that
psycho to tell him the story.

“They called him the Wolfman in the news.”
She gave a sharp laugh. “He loved it. Lapped it up like a starving
dog.”

Brandt nodded. He hated it when the media
gave a criminal a catchy nickname. It was recognition, and it fed
their mania.

“There’s a chance,” Brandt began, hating what
he had to say, “that his starting back up again isn’t a
coincidence.”

Timber leaned back, inhaling a long, deep
breath. She smiled at him. “Don’t bullshit me. We both know it’s
not. Even if there had been some doubt, Becky’s hair tie on my
front stoop is his announcement that he’s here for me.”

“But this time he might not want you as a
mate. Sometimes killers evolve. There’s a strong chance he wants to
kill you this time.”

“Good. I want to kill him, too.” There was a
growl in her voice when she said it, a low, bass rumble. “And yeah,
you’re probably right. But I can promise you one thing.”

“And that is?”

“If he manages to grab me again—” She broke
eye contact then, her teeth gritted together as she stared out
across her living room. Brandt wanted to tell her this man
wouldn’t, that they could keep her safe, but he hesitated to make a
promise he couldn’t guarantee he could keep. Timber had seen enough
of STE’s failures.

When she finally looked back at him her gaze
was like a club to the gut, “—he’ll take his time. He didn’t go to
all the trouble of tracking me down to make it quick.”

Chapter Six

Timber watched
Brandt flinch. Which was good. He needed to know Charles like she
did. He needed to know what he was up against, know what kind of
monster was hunting during his watch. Maybe, unlike the Hounds
before him, he might actually make an attempt to stop the
bastard.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she added. “I’ll fight
him. And if he gives me a chance to kill him, then you better have
that silver bullet ready, because he’ll be a dead man walking and I
don’t care about the consequences.”

“We could move you into a Shifter
Protection—”

Hell no. She shook her head and held up a
hand to cut him off.

“Didn’t think you’d go for that,” he sighed,
but at least he didn’t push. She’d gone to the Hounds once before
for help. Brandt was their second shot at getting it right.

“I’ve given you everything I know on this,
but excuse me if I don’t trust your guys not to hand me over if he
waltzes in and promises to stop killing in exchange for me.”

Brandt gave a growl then and stepped closer.
Everything inside her went utterly still, her muscles tensed and
ready to resist the danger that threatened in his eyes.

“I can’t promise you a lot,” Brandt said, his
voice dark and deadly, full of a depth of rage she hadn’t expected.
“But I can promise you this; I will do everything in my power to
catch this man. And I can
promise
you that I won’t hand you
over to that devil again. My pack? If they want to keep their badge
as a Hound and not end up in a silver-barred cell themselves, then
they’ll damn well do the same.”

He’d narrowed the distance between them until
she could feel his heat, smell the soft hint of shampoo from his
last shower. She could see the dark stubble just poking through
along his jawline. But it was his eyes, a dark mocha brown, that
captivated her.

Along the edge of his irises they almost
glinted gold, but they bled black closer to the center.

A dark brown curl hung over his forehead, and
she had to tuck her hands in her pockets to keep from reaching up
and swiping it aside. She’d never thought she’d see the day when
she was attracted to a Hound. But something about Brandt felt safe.
And strong. Which, in a way, scared her more than anything else had
in a long time.

Because he could hurt her, and she might not
see it coming.

“I want to believe you,” she whispered.

“You don’t have to believe me yet. Trust
comes with time, I know that.” She felt his breath against her skin
and closed her eyes. When his fingertips brushed her temple she
jerked, just a slight flinch, but it made him pull away. “We need
to find a way, though, to keep you safe. One you’re willing to work
with.”

“I’m safe enough if you find him.”

“It might not be that easy.”

Timber trembled. She should have known. But
she didn’t know what scared her more...Charles knowing where she
was and just coming for her when he felt like it. Or, letting
herself go into Shifter Town Enforcement’s ‘protection’ and feeling
the hurt and betrayal again when they handed her over.

Oh, she wanted to believe Brandt wouldn’t.
That he’d make sure his pack wouldn’t.

But it only took one to make the call. One to
send her back.

At least here she had a shot at fighting
Charles alone. She couldn’t do it with a Hound holding her down
until Charles could drag her away. She tried to lock her arms
around herself for comfort, but she couldn’t stop trembling. Not
until Brandt’s warm hands cupped her arms. He seemed to steady her,
hold her still, so she didn’t feel like she was shattering.

“What are you willing to do?” he asked
softly.

“Just find him and let me worry about me
until then.”

The muscle in his jaw flexed and she could
hear his teeth grind, sense frustration bubbling through him. She
felt it in the way his fingers tensed against her arms. His grip
didn’t hurt, but the tension let her know exactly what he was
feeling.

“Do you have a spare room?”

She jerked in his grip, with every intention
of backing away, but he didn’t let her go. “I’m not letting another
Hound in my house.”

“I’m not asking for anyone else. I will post
patrol units to keep an eye out around here, but they’ll know not
to invade your space.” Her brows furrowed, and he sighed as he let
her go. “It’s not ideal. But you shouldn’t have to face him alone.
And you are right, Timber, Charles Wolfe will be coming for
you
. I don’t want you in this house alone.”

“So you’re, what? Just going to move in?”

“I don’t think it’ll take that long. And I’m
offering to stay. You won’t allow protection from anyone else, but
will you accept it from me?”

She didn’t want a Hound—any Hound—staying in
her house. Timber wanted to tell him no, but she didn’t want to
face another night like last night alone, either. She fidgeted
under his gaze. Yes...no. She didn’t know.

He tilted his head at the rest of the house
behind her. “The room at the back of the house, second story, the
one with the oak tree outside its window. Which room is that?”

Everything inside her went still, fear clawed
at her throat, raking down through her chest, and dropping into the
pit of her stomach. “Why?”

The question came out hoarse, broken.

“After Wolfe left Rebecca’s hair tie on your
front steps, he circled the house. His tracks stopped below that
window. One of my Hounds said he tried to climb the tree before
giving up and moving on.”

Suddenly dizzy, she could barely stay on her
feet, her legs quivering as if they’d just give way. She wanted to
ask Brandt how Charles could possibly have known...but she was
pretty sure she already knew the answer. He’d killed Becky, killed
someone else before that. He’d been here for a while. And no doubt
he’d known she was here. She always closed the curtains, but some
nights she liked to look out at the moon before bed.

Some nights she liked to crack the window
open enough to let the breeze blow through her hair before she went
to face the demons in her sleep.

Her fingers itched to go secure that window
so she could never open it again.

“All I have is the couch,” she whispered.

“It’s your room, isn’t it?”

Timber lowered her chin in a very slight nod.
Brandt muttered a soft curse and dug out a card. “This number here
is my cell. Call it if you need anything. I’ll have patrol units
out here all day, but you shouldn’t see them. They’ll stay out of
your hair.”

She took the card, doing her best to ignore
the shake of her hand.

“I’ll stay here tonight to keep watch. It’s
not a long-term solution, but we need to keep you safe. We also
need to notify your pack. If he can’t get to you—”