Her Wanted Wolf (37 page)

“As requested, even though you called me at two in the morning. I’m sorry
to say it was a bit expensive,” she said sweetly, not looking in the least bit
regretful as she handed Royal the clipboard. “I had to call in professionals
for a rush job in the middle of the night.”

Royal glanced down at the bill and choked out, “Who the hell did you call
to set the place to rights, Martha Stewart?”

“She wasn’t available, but look on the bright side. The renovations are
complete and the house is ready for occupancy, that is, if you’re ready to
listen to reason.”

“Forget it. I’m not turning this place into a B&B,” Royal snapped,
still glaring at the piece of paper in his hand.

Nara let out a rude
pfft
through her teeth. “Fine.” She flounced
past the Sinclair’s alpha, mumbling, “Blockhead,” as she stomped down the porch
steps.

Royal’s head jerked up, his eyes blazing and jaw clenched.

Holding her hands out to Sabine, Nara said warmly, “Welcome, are you
hungry? We have hot pecan rolls dripping with icing, a personal fave. Steaks
ready for the grill, or we can whip up omelets if you prefer. If not, I’ll show
you to your suite.” Her voice was gracious and warm, a one-eighty from the way
she spoke to Royal.

Sabine looked up at Drew, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Seems I’m
not the only she-wolf who has ideas of her own,” she murmured before she
stepped away from him to answer Nara. “I am a little hungry. The rolls sound
good.”

“Good, if you’ll follow me, I’ll set you right up.” Nara started to usher
Sabine to the front door but she paused when the other vehicles pulled in
behind the one they’d arrived in. The rest of their party poured out of the
SUVs and looked around to familiarize themselves with the landscape.

Rick hopped out and grinned. “Yo, Nara, love of my life.”

“Rick, were of my dreams.” She flashed him a brilliant smile and skipped
over to leap into his arms. “I baked a batch of sugar buns, just for you.”

“Marry me.” He kissed her lavishly on the mouth.

Nara laughed. “I’d be selfish to keep you all to myself.”

“You’re the best of she-wolves. Generous, beautiful, and you bake like an
angel.” Rick beamed down at her, in full flirt mode. “What more could I ask for
in a mate.”

“Tell that to some people.” She shot Royal a scathing glare over her
shoulder before she turned back to the rest of the travel-weary weres. “Come on
in. Coffee is hot. It’ll take no time at all to get the food on the table.”

Sliding her arm around Rick’s waist, Nara pulled him up the stairs,
collected Sabine and headed them into the house.

The scent coming off Royal was a volatile mixture of frustration, anger,
and suppressed sexual need. Royal, the king of cool had the hots for the snarky
little were, Nara. Drew had never seen him twisted up over a woman. It was too
good of an opportunity to pass up. He had to ruffle Royal’s fur some more.

“So just who is Nara, your sister, cousin, what? She and Rick look really
cozy,” Drew asked casually, trying his damnedest to keep a smirk out of his
voice.

Royal’s brow lowered into a scowl. “Who is she? She’s my freaking
destiny.” Royal grumbled heavily like a man who was fighting the inevitability
of his fate. He ripped the bills from the clipboard, shoved the invoices into
his pocket and stalked into the house.

Drew chuckled and followed him.

Yeah, fate shoveled crap at you, but every once in a while it tossed you
a gem. He located Sabine in the milling crowd and made his way to her side.

* *
* *

Sabine traipsed down the wide curved staircase in baggy overalls, her
hair tucked up under the bandana tied around her head, and a Gimme cap over it.
Her feet were shod in pristine sneakers that needed to scuff up a bit to look
lived in. At first glance, she looked a like a teenaged boy, until you took a
second look and noticed the curve of her breasts and hips under the snug T-shirt
she wore.

Drew tugged the cap down over her forehead. “Ready for your foray into
the big city?”

“Oh yes, Nara says there’s a place near where we’re going that sells
something called peanut brittle. Which she informs me we can’t come to Georgia
and not sample. You should take me there.”

“More curves for me to enjoy.”

“Not a chance. You burn off the extra calories every chance you get.” She
tried to purse her lips, but they softened into a feline satisfied smirk.

“Yeah, I do, don’t I?” Sabine wasn’t the only one who was feeling more
than a little smug. They’d made love after their nap, and he was feeling loose
and limber, ready to take on anything.

Drew escorted Sabine out of the house and opened the door of the small
car Royal had provided for their journey to the waterfront. Ugly as sin, coated
with dull grey primer and a few rusty patches showing through the paint. It
suited their purposes because it was inconspicuous, and a far cry from the
flashy vehicles they’d used the night before.

Rafe and Ishbel already occupied the back seat. A palpable friction
simmered off the couple leaning on the doors to put as much distance between
them as possible. The seat between them was apparently a no man’s land neither
one was willing to breach.

Sabine lifted a dubious brow at the unprepossessing compact. “What’s
this?”

“This is what you’d call a rust bucket. It will fit right in where we’re
heading.” He helped her into the passenger seat and rounded the car to take the
driver’s seat. He started the ignition and the engine purred to life. “The body
of this car might look like crap, but the inner workings are tuned like a
Stradivarius. Royal says this baby will move like a rocket if we need it to.”

Drew headed east to the coast, leaving behind the rolling greenery. He
drove through the marshland until the ocean came into view. The road wound
along the coastline, giving Sabine her first glimpse of the Atlantic. The gusty
late afternoon wind kicked up four-foot white-capped waves.

Boats bobbed on the water and surfers skimmed over the breakers like
flotsam.

“Why on earth would anybody want to do that?” Sabine asked, her tone
suggesting only the insane would.

“It’s exhilarating. You have to try it. With our inherent agility, it’s
easy to master.”

“Easy way to drown yourself too,” Sabine prophesied darkly.

Sabine grabbed his thigh, pulling his attention from the road. He glanced
at her pale face and asked, “What’s wrong?”

She was perfectly still. “I’m not sure.” Sabine twisted in her seat and
looked back at Ishbel who nodded.

“What is it? Tell me,” Drew demanded. He scanned the area. There was
nothing in sight to cause alarm. However, the fact he couldn’t see a were,
didn’t mean there wasn’t one in the vicinity. There was enough brush along the
roadside to hide an entire pack. Drew sniffed for wolf spoor.

“Don’t you smell her? Your sister, her scent is on the wind, faint, but
it’s there.”

Heart pounding, Drew pulled onto the side of the road. “Is she nearby?”

Sabine closed her eyes and drew in shallow testing breaths. “Her spoor is
fresh, but it comes from a distance.” Sabine let out a shaky laugh before her
brow wrinkled into a frown, and when she opened her eyes, they were full of
worry. “Drew, she carries a cub.”

Black boiling rage swamped him. His hands gripped the steering wheel
until his knuckles shone whitely under his skin. He heard the brittle sun baked
steering wheel crack.

“Those fuckers. They raped her.” He’d expected it, had vivid nightmares
about it, but he’d pushed that particular fear to the farthest recesses of his
mind. To have proof of his sister’s abuse was a kick to the balls. He felt
queasy, lightheaded, and sick in spirit.

“That, I can’t tell you, but in the faint whiffs I’m able to catch, there
is no fear in what she emits.” Sabine bit her lip.

“If you ask me, her scent is infused with happiness.” Ishbel patted his
shoulder from behind. “You should take comfort in that.”

“Are you sure?” Like a drowning man, he grasped at the idea. It was
something to hold onto, not much, but something tangible. Ishbel said Aimee was
happy. It made no sense.

“As sure as we can be from this distance, the wind is strong and diffuses
the potency of her essence.” Sabine rubbed her hand over his aching heart.

Drew got out of the car and put his face into the wind. Desperate for
some reassurance, he dragged in great draughts, filling his lungs with the
salty air. There she was. It was a mere whisper of her scent trail, but nothing
more.

He bent down to face Sabine. “How can you tell that she’s carrying from
this distance?”

“We are Silverwolves. We are more sensitive to the subtlest nuances in a
fragrance. Get back in the car. You’re sending out signals like a lighthouse.
Even I might not be able to mask your scent.”

“Should we stage a hunt from this spot?”

“No, the scent is too indistinct here, if we go the Redmavens’ den, I can
pick up a stronger scent trail and track through that.”

Frustrated, he slid back into his seat, restarted the car, and swung out
into the traffic. He ignored the angry blares and gestures from the other
drivers. Drew floored the gas pedal and aimed the small bullet of a car toward
Savannah. One way or another, he was going to get some answers by nightfall.

“Throttle it back, man. No sense in getting into a wreck when we’re so
close to getting Aimee back,” Rafe cautioned.

Drew picked up the banked anger in his primo’s voice. It held the same
hunger to mete out reprisals drove him. Reluctantly, Drew eased his foot off
the accelerator.

A laden silence filled the car for the rest of the journey. He flew
through the city, focused on their destination. It didn’t take him long to find
a small strip mall several blocks from where the little blips on Rick’s GPS
gizmos gave away the Redmavens’ location.

Drew checked to make sure his cell was off. Every time a phone rang,
heads turned. Weres could pick up the vibration when it was in silent mode.
Another way to draw unwanted attention he didn’t need. He pulled on a ball cap
and slid on a pair of wraparound shades before they all got out of the car.
Sabine came over to him, slipped her small hand into his, and adroitly masked
their scents. He barely felt the faint muting of his sense of smell before it returned
to normal.

He took a good sniff. The air was rife with Redmaven spoor and a more
freaked out set of assholes he never smelled. He caught their confusion, and
somebody was really pissed. The rage he felt was akin to his own. Which seemed
out of place, considering, as far as the Redmavens were concerned, they held an
ace. His sister.

Shit, something was up.

He stared across the hood and met Rafe’s grim expression.

He glanced down to see Sabine’s nose twitch in slight pulses. “You okay
there?”

She shrugged. “There are so many scents to read. The noise is an added
distraction. It’s a little overwhelming.”

Yeah, there was an effluence of odors bombarding them. The Savannah River
flowed into the ocean, not too far from where they stood. Briny water mixed
with river water, oily exhaust fumes, a concentration of human emanations, and
the moldy sweet stink of garbage filled the atmosphere with a particular
pungency. The cacophony of blares, toots, and honks from the traffic could
overload the senses if one weren’t used to it. It never occurred to him that
this would be a problem for her, but she’d spent most of her life in
unpopulated areas, far away from the polluted cities.

“You smell the Redmavens, don’t you?”

“Oh yes.” She wrinkled her nose. “Hard to miss them. The air reeks of
their panic. What do you make of that?”

Rafe tilted his head at two weres loitering on the corner a block away.
“Don’t know yet but we aim to find out. Mutts at three o’clock. From their
vantage point, they can see anything approaching from four directions.”

At a glance, the pair of Redmavens appeared not to have a care in the
world. But, if Drew read them right, they were as jumpy as freshman coeds at a
frat party. The weres scrutinized them, before their gazes moved on to look
over the people moving briskly along the streets.

Drew and Rafe shared a grim smirk, nothing lingered in the air that would
give away the fact that they were werekin to the Redmavens.

“Do you think it’s because they caught the scent of the Sinclairs they
are so uneasy?” Sabine whispered and shoved her hand into her roomy pockets.

Drew shrugged, studying the Redmavens. They kept looking over their
shoulders like they expected the Devil to clap his hand on their backs at any
minute.

“No, I don’t think that’s it. The Sinclairs’ presence wouldn’t elicit
this kind of response. The Redmavens have a history with the Sinclairs. They’d
be on the defensive if they thought Royal was gunning for them.”

“Think we should follow the plan?” Rafe set his butt on the hood of the
car and pulled Ishbel down beside him. He crossed legs at the ankles and rocked
back as if he was shooting the breeze.

“We should at least go in close enough to find out if Aimee is here, or
if we need to double back. We could use that to our advantage.” Drew took
Sabine by the elbow. “Is there anything of Aimee in the area?”

Sabine bravely inhaled and grimaced like she had a bad taste in her
mouth.

She let out an irritated huff. “I can’t tell. The miasma of fragrances is
making it difficult. It will get easier.”

The determined glint in Sabine’s eyes gave Drew pause. He’d seen that
expression on her face once before, a second before she taken off down the
ravine without him.

“Don’t even think of going off on your own.”

She lifted a pale brow. “Why would I? That would defeat the purpose of me
being here, wouldn’t it?” She tugged on his arm. “Come on, this will be a good
trial run for us. If we’re going to cover the Lunedares
en masse
tonight, I want to inure my senses to the odors that permeate the area. We
don’t want to make even the smallest change and inadvertently alert the
Redmavens that something is off.”