Sadie Hart (13 page)

“In the few instances when he’s had nowhere
to stash them, he’s left ropes behind. Ropes he cut through cleanly
when he released them.”

Brandt drew small circles on the open file
folder, careful not to look up. She watched her brother’s pulse
quicken, then ease as he blew out a slow, quiet breath. “How’d you
catch him that night?”

“Got lucky?” She shrugged. “I’d started
searching the woods, running through them on four legs looking for
scents. Anything. A lot of dead ends. I almost didn’t believe it
when I stumbled on him.”

“You try it again?”

“We all did. Lennox had the packs out every
day the following month, in every forest we could find. He didn’t
kill. He went on a nice little sabbatical, and we’ve yet to get
lucky a second time now that he’s back.”

Brandt closed the folder, his gaze finding
hers, holding steady. She knew what he wanted to ask. Ollie hadn’t
talked to him about what happened. She hadn’t really talked to
anyone about it. She shook her head. “My luck ran out and he caught
me. I tried to tell Rosalie what to do, how to save herself, but
she panicked in the end and ran. She ended up dead, I didn’t.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” He whispered those
words, and Ollie knew they were true. Logically, she knew it, but
way down deep in her soul, she couldn’t bring herself to fully
accept it.

Blame didn’t change the facts. Rosalie Myers
had died and Ollie had walked away.

She tried to figure out how to answer her
brother, to make it sound convincing, when her cell rang, vibrating
against the table with a sharp trill. She hopped up to catch it,
instantly scanning caller ID. She frowned. Caine Morgan.

The tip of her tongue slid out to wet her
lips. “Hello?”

“I have another victim for you. Or future
victim. Lydia Marks, age 28, soccer mom. Two kids, divorced.” Anger
filled the voice coming through the phone, like a dragon slipping
through the lines, full of furor and horrible, dark rage. Brandt
shifted on the floor and started to rise, but she held out a
hand.

“What happened?” But even as she asked she
was blindsided by the knowledge that she’d been sitting on her ass
at home while he’d taken another. Another one. How many more had to
die before they got lucky enough to catch him?

“I have the pack on daily check-ins. Lydia is
always on time; she’s never late for anything.”

“How long has it been? Maybe she forgot or
had a car accident.”

Caine snorted at that. “She never made it to
her car. According to her scent trail, she left her house, and had
barely made it halfway to her car when the Hunter snatched her and
dragged her straight towards the street. The trail ends under the
scent of burnt rubber.”

Ollie swayed on her feet and Brandt rose,
catching her before her knees could give way. “How long,” she
started and broke off the question. Taking a deep breath, she tried
again. “How long has it been?”

“Two hours.”

She stared at the white board at her feet.
He’s never taken two from the same pack or group, she’d told Brandt
and now the Hunter had done exactly that. He was tossing out every
rule he’d ever played by. Because that was exactly what this was to
him now. A game. An extended hunt where he got to play with his
prey first. The fresh chill of fear left her shaken, hollow.

But two hours was a small window. The fastest
turnaround they’d had yet.

Ollie snatched a marker off the table and
knelt. “Her address.”

He relayed the information. Burgundy Street.
Half the city away from Sanctuary Falls. “She doesn’t live on site,
not all of my wolves do,” he said before she could even ask.

“I’ll keep you in the loop.”

There was that dark, unbelieving snort again.
“That would be nice for a change, Holly. But, no, I don’t think you
will.”

He hung up, but he didn’t have to say it
again. Call me when she’s dead. Ollie hoped like crazy that it
wouldn’t come to that. Not again. She couldn’t take much more blood
on her hands. On automatic, she dialed Lennox’s number, Brandt
watching silently from her side, eyebrows lifted. Questioning.

“He doesn’t like the fact that I can’t tell
him everything we know, that he’s not part of the
investigation.”

Her brother didn’t say anything, just turned
to look at the board, chock full of names. There were so many dead,
and in such a short time period. Ollie wondered how many he’d
killed before they’d even discovered they had a serial killer in
their midst. How many shifter families would never have
closure?

“You’re on vacation,” Lennox said when she
answered, her voice tired.

Ollie closed her eyes and for the first time
wished she’d really been on vacation. It would have been nice.
Sipping girly drinks on the beach, wearing a sundress and flats,
having nothing better to do with her time than ogle hot men in the
water. Most importantly, not having to call her boss and tell her
that the Hunter had just taken another victim.

Two weeks to the full moon. It gave them the
longest lead time they’d ever had. It also gave him a long time to
play with her. “He’s got another one,” she whispered, hating the
quiver to the voice, the helplessness that dragged at her, a
constant ride that was slowly beginning to wear her down. “Lydia
Marks, another wolf from Sanctuary Falls.”

She relayed her conversation with Caine, did
her best to ignore the frustrated growl from Lennox, the muttered
curses on the other end. “This is early for the Hunter.”

“Maybe he couldn’t pass up the opportunity?
Maybe he just wanted more time to play?”

There was a heartbeat of silence on the other
end. “Maybe he’s breaking his time frame.”

Ollie didn’t even want to think about that.
Without the full moon cycles, there was nothing to keep him from
taking victims willy-nilly. As if reading her mind, Brandt turned
and offered, “A spree might cause him to slip up. Leave us
something we can follow.”

“A spree means a lot of women could die very,
very fast.”

“I know.” He held out a hand for the phone,
eyes solemn as he met hers. “Let me talk to Lennox.”

She passed over the phone without a word.
“Lennox? I think we need to bring the Sanctuary Falls alpha in on
the case.”

Ollie blinked, not quite sure she heard him
right, but Brandt didn’t back down. He was serious. And right. Her
heart thudded in her chest. So damn right. “According to Ol, the
Hunter has never taken multiple victims from the same pack before.
He stretches things out, makes it harder to trap him. Now, if we’re
going to try to second guess a pattern, I’d say any additional
victims will be from Sanctuary Falls as well.

“Caine Morgan might be our best shot at
getting this guy, but he needs in on the details.”

Details, Ollie thought, that might have saved
Lydia Marks. The guilt must have shown on her face, because Brandt
shook his head. “No,” he said, “Don’t do that. This is not your
fault.”

“But if I’d let him in—”

Her brother cut her off with a jerk of his
hand. “No. Enough.”

Ollie turned and walked for the door,
whistling for Star as she let herself out into the back yard. The
crisp autumn air triggered goosebumps down her arms, and she
huddled against the porch rail, breathing in the scent of crushed
leaves. Star darted off the deck for the nearest stand of trees, no
doubt hunting for squirrels, and Ollie watched her go, wanting
nothing more than to shake off the worry and slip into her canine
self.

Why the hell not?

It’d probably do her some good. Get some
fresh air, stretch out her legs, maybe even get a bit of distance
from the case. She was half off the back deck when the sliding
glass door opened and Brandt stepped out onto the porch. “You want
to call him?”

She froze, one hand on the rail, and looked
up at her brother.

The corner of his lips hitched up in a half
smile. “We have a lot to talk about, might as well invite him to
dinner. I can tell Nan.”

Dinner? With the Sanctuary Falls alpha? Here?
Ollie took the phone and watched as her brother stepped inside,
heard the merry way Nana laughed when he cornered her in the
kitchen. Dinner would be nice, but not like this, not with another
victim hanging over their heads. But afterwards, when the Hunter
was locked safely behind bars, she realized that she desperately
wanted a real dinner with Caine. Wanted to see if there was
something behind those nearly-black eyes besides sympathy, if there
could be something more between them than a pity hug.

Ollie stared at the phone in her hand, almost
hesitant to call. It wouldn’t be a fun dinner tonight, but Caine
deserved to know everything. He deserved to have a fighting chance
for his pack. He couldn’t keep them safe if he didn’t know the
Hunter’s game. Even knowing, it still might not be enough, but it
beat going in blind.

Blowing out a shaky breath, she dialed, her
eyes on the spot where the first Sanctuary Falls victim had died.
The crime scene tape was gone, but the memory still lingered like a
fog over the land, a mist even the brightest sun couldn’t shake.
Star gave the area a wide berth in her search for squirrels, as if
she could sense the evil that had been there. Watching the long
grasses sway in the wind—knowing what had happened out there—Ollie
felt herself relax with the certainty.

It was, indeed, time Caine knew
everything.

***

Cecily Lawrence could cook one hell of a
dinner. Caine leaned back in his chair, legs stretched out in front
of him, and patted his very full stomach. He’d eaten enough to
sleep for days. Thankfully, they’d had the foresight to follow the
night’s more depressing conversation with a bountiful feast that
could easily have fed his entire pack. “You sure you don’t want to
come live with a bunch of wolves?”

He flashed her a grin, and Holly’s
grandmother laughed. “No. I’m good here. But I am glad you enjoyed
it.”

She stood, picking up her plate as she
whistled for the dog and shuffled over to the large metal bowls
sitting at the end of the counter. The collie darted after her,
prancing on all fours as though she’d just won the lottery. Then
again, if he was ever invited back here for another feast, he’d be
drooling and dancing too.

Caine started to rise, reaching for the other
plates, but Brandt took over, clearing the table without a word.
Caine sank back down into his chair and turned his attention to
Holly. Or Ollie as everyone else called her. “How’d you get the
nickname?”

“I told you. Nana.” But the blush that crept
up her neck and tinged the tip of her ears red told him there was
more to the story. Caine leaned forward, bracing his elbows against
the large oak table, a wicked smile toying at the edge of his
lips.

“And I want details. How?”

Holly smoothed her hands down the tan shirt
and his gaze tracked the movement. She was nothing like her
wolfhound half. There was muscle to her, but it was buried under a
soft roundness that made him want to draw her into a hug again,
plaster her tight against his body. Caine shifted slightly in his
seat.

Her gaze darted up to his and then away
again, blush deepening, and she slid out of her seat. “Why don’t we
step outside? Get some fresh air?”

“Lead the way.” Caine slipped out of his
chair after her. A quick glance in the direction of the kitchen
assured him that Holly’s grandmother and brother were busy laughing
and doing dishes. Brandt dried the plate his grandmother had just
handed him and glanced up, catching Caine’s gaze. His eyes narrowed
for just the briefest second before he turned away.

Not exactly approval, but it wasn’t a “stay
away from my sister or else” either. Apparently the wolfhound
really did believe in letting Holly stand on her own two feet.
Caine grabbed his coat and followed her out the back door, sliding
it shut behind him as he turned into the night air. It was chilly
enough to make him shiver while he slipped into the leather jacket,
turning to see Holly wrapped in a long, fleece coat that hung
halfway down her thighs. She tied the belt at her waist and looked
up at him.

“You’re not allowed to laugh.”

A grin stole over his face. “I don’t make
promises.”

“I could say I’m not telling you, then.”

Caine stepped closer, his gaze skidding from
her fierce, blue-gray eyes to her round, red lips. Full. He wanted
to taste her. Hell, he’d wanted to taste her since that day in the
morgue, when she’d coolly told him no. Maybe even sooner than that.
He thought of the metallic glint she’d had in her eyes the first
day he’d met her, tough, when she looked so damn soft. Maybe he’d
wanted that taste from day one.

“Say it, then,” he whispered. He took another
step, the distance between them nothing more than a few inches. If
he leaned in, he could steal that kiss. “I could always ask your
grandma.”

There was a flicker of a smile on her lips,
there and gone, and he knew she was fighting back a laugh. Holly
rolled her eyes and shrugged. “Fine. When I was a little girl, I
wanted to be a dog.”

He lifted both eyebrows. “Newsflash honey,
but you kind of are.”

“Like all the time. When I was six, Nana
couldn’t get me to change back for over a month. She finally said
if I was going to be a dog, I had to have a dog’s name.”

“So Holly turned to Ollie.”

She nodded. “By the time I shifted back, the
name stuck. Everyone was calling me that.”

Caine reached out and caught a curly strand
of night-black hair. Holly’s breath caught in her throat, and he
smiled, loving how easy she was for him to read now. He twined her
hair around his hand, brushing his knuckles against her chin and
her eyelids fluttered, the barest hint of a blink. “I like it. It’s
cute.”