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“She’s not just gone, Max. Someone took her. I have no doubt.”
“You can’t be certain.”
As I turned to face him, I allowed the beast to claw to the surface. “Yes, I can.”
“Let’s go hunting,” Gregor suggested, his guttural voice floating into the night.
“Neither of you are going anywhere,” Max directed.
I tilted my head, merely locking eyes with Max until he nodded. When Gregor flanked my side, I was surprised.
And for the first time, I felt his allegiance.
Now, our wolves were out for blood.
CHAPTER11
Vanessa
Danger.
More than once I’d been accused of enjoying putting myself in harm’s way. My former boss had chastised me on more than one occasion for taking unnecessary chances, ignoring protective services after being threatened. I’d even heard that I had a morbid curiosity for death.
Maybe I did, or maybe I realized that I couldn’t get anywhere by playing it safe.
Tonight was no exception; however, I wasn’t a damn fool. I’d been in worse scenarios in my efforts to hunt down witnesses and find evidence.
When I’d left my condo, I’d had an eerie feeling of being watched, my skin crawling as it had before. I took additional precautions, taking side streets as an alternative route to where I was going. After several minutes, I realized my imagination was playing tricks.
Or so I hoped.
My gun was positioned under my purse within a single snap of my wrist. If anyone tried to fuck with me, they’d find themselves on the wrong end of a barrel.
The part of town I was headed for wasn’t necessarily crime ridden, but it certainly wasn’t posh by any means.
I hadn’t anticipated receiving a return call from the editor of the newspaper. I also hadn’t anticipated that the reporter was still living in town, especially since Randy had been fired from his job not long after the article he’d written about the Wolfen. From what the editor had said, Randy had become obsessed with finding out what he called the hidden secret within the darkness of Denver.
While I’d peppered the editor with questions, he’d been less than obliged to share much of anything. What I had been able to tell was that he was nervous about providing even a small amount of information. I’d finally gotten an old phone number for Mr. O’Rourke, expecting another dead end. When Randy had answered his phone, I’d been… elated.
I could easily tell Randy had expected another naysayer, some bitch who’d called him out of the blue to hassle him for his ridiculous article. My interest had piqued his, finally allowing me to obtain his address after agreeing to a brief meeting. I had no idea what I was doing in hunting this down. I could be wasting my time.
The little voice inside my head told me otherwise.
I’d seen the look on Stone’s face even though he’d done his best to mask every single emotion. I realized my grip on the steering wheel was white knuckled, my heart racing. I’d disobeyed Stone’s order. I almost laughed just thinking about where my thoughts had drifted. I’d been clear with Stone regarding my tenacity. The man, no matter the intense and out-of-this-world connection we shared, didn’t own me.
Period.
The end.
I wasn’t his mate.
Then why was my skin clammy, my nipples fully aroused, aching from scraping back and forth across my bra? A blipping light just under the turn signal pissed me off. Low on fuel. The last thing I wanted to do was to be out of my comfort zone and run out of gas. I scanned the road, praying for a sight of a gas station, hissing the moment one came into view.
I pulled in, grateful for the number of lights beaming down from the red and yellow canopy. The darkness surrounding the obviously popular station was still foreboding, what seemed like a light fog enveloping the property. I couldn’t help but reflect on ridiculous horror movies as I eased out onto the concrete pad, my fingers stiff as I dragged out my credit card. There were several other vehicles, all in various stages of pumping gas. The selection of music blaring from the cars and trucks was somewhat comforting.
Denver had an eclectic mix of people, men and women merely attempting to thrive in a difficult economy. I was grateful for their presence and there was no reason for me to feel skittish like I did. As I shoved the nozzle into my gas tank, I couldn’t help but wonder how many people had suspected they weren’t living alone, that wolves were hovering in the shadows, prepared to do what was necessary in order to survive.
I closed my eyes, attempting to block out my thoughts, my hope that the reporter could shed some light on my father the only thing I should be concentrating on. At least I could take comfort in the number of people coming and going. I wasn’t alone.
