Pack Justice (Nature of the Beast Book 1) (9 page)

The keys I understood; they were useful to her. The rest of my life didn’t matter, especially if she had no intention of letting me be anything more than a wolf. She had her own credit cards, she had identification, and knowing her, she had a small fortune of cash hidden away in her purse.

I remained quiet, wondering what my wife intended to do with me. What purpose did I serve her when I was a small, lamed wolf? Once again, my wolf encouraged me to bide my time and be patient.

I didn’t have much choice. Until my neck healed, I was easy prey for just about anything. How long did it take a wolf to heal? The injury should have killed me, which didn’t bode well for a quick recovery and escape.

I flopped on the seat, wondering how Idette planned to deal with the challenge of making the rental disappear.

Making
me
disappear was easy enough. If she left everything but my keys in the woods, someone would eventually find my kayak. If the police searched long enough, they’d locate my clothes and assume an animal had gotten me. All she had to do was tell the police a pretty story about a rabid wolf in the forest.

Forensics would find wolf tracks and fur near my bloody clothes. While Idette’s footprints were in the woods, I had no idea how long she had been a wolf before attacking me.

In theory, if it didn’t rain, investigators might be able to track Idette’s wolf prints to my kayak. Even if it rained, there was nothing to tie a wolf to a human, and Idette could claim the wolf had hunted her, too. She could lie her way through the case with ease, especially if she had paid any attention to my work over the years.

There were a hundred and one different ways to hide a murder or disappearance. If I couldn’t figure out how to transform back on my own, it was entirely possible I’d become an unsolved mystery.

No one in their right mind would believe Idette could become a wolf. All she had to do was claim she had been chased off by a wild animal and I had disappeared. The woods surrounding Lake George were plentiful and thick.

Someone in the area could probably verify hearing the howling of a wolf, which would support her story. She’d get away with murder, and as long as I remained an animal, there was nothing I could do to stop her.

At least the LAPD had just cause to investigate Idette. If they hunted her down and found me as a wolf, I could get away from her. Once free, I could figure something out. While my plan was fledgling at best, it would do for the moment.

I forced myself to relax and wait for Idette to make a mistake. When she did, I would be ready.

When Idette stopped at a strip mall an hour or two away from Lake George, she locked me in the trunk. My cheetah didn’t mind the enclosed space, but my wolf bristled at the indignation of being trapped. He wanted to pace; to ease his anxiety, I hobbled on three legs. Something about whining comforted him, and I indulged in the urge.

The darkness didn’t bother me, but my lack of escape routes did. Without hands or the benefit of light, I had no idea where the release catch was or if I could manipulate it with paws and teeth. I huffed, sat down, pinned my ears back, and waited for Idette to return.

I spent the time in a three-way argument on the best way to deal with my wife once and for all. My cheetah’s desire for violence alarmed my wolf, who preferred a strategic retreat.

They bickered in my head, their conversation conducted in hisses and growls.

If I had my way, I’d get my revenge by living a long and happy life without her in it. My wolf’s attention focused on me at the thought, and I got the feeling he fully intended to find us a mate.

My cheetah’s approval warmed me, and something passed between the two spirit beasts, leaving me wondering what they were talking about. Whatever it was, it absorbed their attention, and I took advantage of their disinterest in me to explore the trunk.

I found the catch near the top of the back seat. With the silk binding my muzzle mostly shut, I couldn’t grasp the knob to yank on it. Until my left paw healed and supported my weight better, I couldn’t dig at the seat or pull off the silk around my muzzle.

All I could do was wait.

When Idette returned, she was carrying a pair of bags. One held a collar, a harness, and a leash, all made from black leather. An acrid stench filled my nose, and the smell alarmed my wolf. From the second bag, Idette pulled out a jewelry box and a pair of thick gloves, which she put on.

My wife had never been fond of silver, claiming she had an allergy to it. Once upon a time, she had owned some pieces from our engagement, but those had vanished years ago. Had she kept them, or had she discarded my gifts along with her humanity? Werewolf legends were plentiful, but the timid way she handled the silver chains within the jewelry box warned me some legends were founded on truth.

“This will protect you from the others,” she hissed through clenched teeth as she attached the silver chains to the harness and collar. Supergluing silver to leather seemed like a good way to ruin them both to me. Once she was satisfied with her work, she grabbed me by my tail and yanked me to her. I yipped and clawed at the trunk’s carpeting.

The silk binding my muzzle shut made my attempted attack harmless but earned me a backhanded slap across my nose. My neck throbbed. Using me, my wolf whined.

Idette buckled the collar around my throat first, clipping the leash to it and looping the leather around her wrist. While it didn’t hurt, the stench of the silver dulled my sense of smell. When she buckled me into the harness, the straps bit into the skin beneath my fur, so tight it pinched me when I moved.

The last addition to her efforts to contain me was a black leather muzzle, which replaced the silk tying my mouth shut and buckled around my head. Within its confines, I could pant, but I had no chance of being able to bite anyone. I flattened my ears back. My wolf hesitated at the thought of touching the silver.

“There, all done. In a couple of weeks, you won’t have any worries at all. I’ll take good care of you until then.” Idette smiled, and her eyes blazed a fire-bright amber. After dumping her gloves, she picked me up, careful to avoid the silver chains glued to the collar and harness. She set me on the front seat. The leash had a loop for a seat belt, which she used to keep me in place.

What was going to happen in a couple of weeks? Thanks to the Roberts case, my schedule wasn’t quite as fixed as I liked, and I couldn’t think of any possibilities; our anniversary wasn’t for half a year, though if I had anything to do with it, it wouldn’t happen at all. Neither one of us had upcoming birthdays, nor did any of our closer friends and family.

Unless I got my act together and escaped, I’d find out, like it or not.

Chapter Seven

The days slipped by, and my hope Idette would make a mistake waned. She left me muzzled most of the time, removing the accursed leather contraption long enough to feed me. What she considered an appropriate diet disgusted me and my spirit beasts.

We wanted meat, fresh and still bleeding, but she wanted to force dry kibble down my throat, and I refused it. Maybe the thought of eating raw meat disgusted most humans, but I understood a predator’s needs from my time as a cheetah.

Through my protests, Idette remained silent. If my rejection of her offerings bothered her, she hid it from me.

The silver around my throat and decorating my harness deadened my nose.

Idette fell into a pattern of rising early and checking out of the dive motel she had selected since they were least likely to ask for identification. On the drive, she kept below the speed limit, stopped at every red light, and did nothing to draw attention to herself.

My hunger ate away at my stomach, but I continued to refuse what she offered despite my cheetah and wolf’s growing desperation for sustenance. I gorged on water and wondered which one of us would crack first.

I was a wolf, proud and majestic. I was a cheetah, sleek and cunning. Kibble was beneath us. We were not a pet for anyone’s amusement. I was a man, too, although my memories of walking on two feet instead of four were hazy and slipped away whenever I didn’t force myself to remember what I had been.

Once I was free of Idette and her harness, collar, and leash, I’d be happy enough as a wolf.

The night the dark moon rose, I won the battle. I had no idea where we were, but the land was flat, the parking lot of the used car dealership and mechanic shop was empty, and Idette presented me with a bowl of beef cut into bite-sized cubes. Instead of raw, they were cooked as a stew, long cold. Had she made it at the last hotel? It had been a nicer place, that much I remembered.

It had contained a full kitchen. She had bathed me in the sink despite my warbled protests. She hadn’t taken the leather harness off, either, and the bands had cut into me as they swelled from the water. The straps had since stiffened, restricting my mobility and ability to breathe.

I sighed and forced myself to eat.

As a human, Idette’s attempts at cooking left me eager for lunch away from home. My wolf shuddered at the pungent flavor. It was tempting to go without, but if I did, I wouldn’t be able to act when Idette finally slipped. The years of tolerating Idette’s behavior had taught me patience. My cheetah and wolf, however, wavered under the hopelessness of our captivity.

They retreated to some deep recess in my head, leaving me alone with my thoughts for the first time in weeks. While I ate, leashed to the rental, I watched Idette swap plates with a similar make and model of car. While neither of my spirit beasts were wise to the ways of the human world, I understood what she did and why, and through me, they too understood.

If anyone was looking for me, her trick would be enough to throw people off her trail for a little while. Would Marcello and Dan pursue my disappearance? It had been long enough I doubted they held much hope for me. My time serving as a prosecutor had taught me a lot about the nature of people and what happened to kidnap victims.

A very small percentage remained with their kidnappers, some were released or escaped, and most died. After the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours, the chances of survival plummeted. Idette hadn’t killed me, but I had no delusions about her having a change of heart. I was a wolf, and as far as I could tell, she wanted me to stay that way, although I didn’t understand why.

I sighed, tested my injured left paw, and calculated my chances of pulling free of the leash and making a run for it while Idette was distracted with the plates. I couldn’t reach the clip attaching the leash to the harness, not with the silver glued to the leather, but I could reach the knots binding me to the car.

My continual compliance worked in my favor; she had tied me to the car, but the knots were loose, the loops were large and within my reach. While she fought with a rusty screw on the other car, I grabbed the leather leash in my teeth, tugging until I could pull free.

When hunting as a cheetah, sudden movement drew my eye to prey, so I made a slow and silent escape, limping my way across the road towards the highway. With luck, the fumes of passing cars and trucks would hide my scent, as long as I remained hidden from sight.

I left without looking back.