Sadie Hart (19 page)

Shivering against the evening chill, Ollie
bustled inside, leaving Brandt to close the door. She paused in the
living room, noticing the odd quiet. No Star romping to the front
door, no happy barks. The TV wasn’t even on, and Nana loved her
soaps.

Brandt had been about to flop down on the
couch when she held out a hand while reaching for her gun with the
other, he froze. She watched his attention shift to the empty dog
bed.

Ollie’s stomach twisted. Star hadn’t been
outside when they’d pulled up or she’d have come running to greet
them. The silence in the house left her raw. Ollie slid her gaze
over the archway between the living and dining room. The large,
black dining table spanned the length of the room. All the chairs
were still in place.

No mail. Nana always got it, sorting through
the junk and leaving the important stuff on the table. Might mean
there was just no mail for the day. Might mean something else. The
floorboard creaked under her weight as Ollie took another step, and
Star whined, a quiet, pitiful sound. The kitchen? Easing forward,
keeping herself light on her feet, Ollie moved through the dining
room, pressing tight against the wall, gun lifted and pointed at
the ceiling.

Her gaze shifted to the open arch that led
into the kitchen. At her signal, Brandt paused against the wall
between the living room and her, his eyes on the kitchen. She knew
he’d have her back.

With another nod to her brother, they moved
towards the kitchen. No tempting dinner aromas, definitely not the
BBQ pork roast Nana had been teasing them about last night.
Something had happened, the eerie silence, the vague sense of
wrongness, Star’s whine, it all added up. Ollie moved towards the
kitchen. The lights were on, and Ollie edged around the arch, gun
raised, Brandt at her back. She saw Nana then, tied to one of the
kitchen chairs, Star leashed at her side. She was gagged. Ollie bit
back a cry, using every ounce of her self-control to focus on
securing the room before she raced over to help her
grandmother.

A familiar citrus and gunpowder scent hit her
nose. He’d been here. In her house. He’d tied up her grandmother.
If he’d hurt her— Ollie forced herself to break that train of
thought. She couldn’t go there. Not now.

Ollie moved into the kitchen, gun raised,
with Brandt at her back. It took the two of them less than a second
to scan the room and make sure it was safe. She hurried for Nana as
Brandt moved towards the back door.

With shaky hands, Ollie holstered her gun and
then undid the gag, tears stinging the back of her eyes as she
looked into her grandmother’s face. “I’m so sorry, Nana.”

Her grandmother shook her head, expression
gentle. “It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known.” Her voice
quavered and it tore at Ollie’s heart.

God, the bastard had assaulted her
grandmother. “Are you okay?”

Nana nodded, a weak smile on her face as
Brandt came up beside them.

“I’m going to go check the rest of the house,
make sure it’s secure.”

“He’s not here,” Nana said, and the moment
she said it, Ollie knew Nana was right, the scent was too faint.
He’d been gone for hours now. Brandt knelt behind Nana and started
to untie her.

“He never left this room.” Nana took a deep
shuddering breath. “He came in from the back deck when I went to
let Star out, and left the same way.”

Her grandmother’s voice broke, her hands
shaking as the ropes fell loose, and she was free. Ollie knelt in
front of her, grasping Nana’s hands in hers.

“Star started barking, I thought she wanted
out.” Ollie recognized the flare of guilt in her grandmother’s
eyes.

“No, no. It’s not your fault. Hindsight’s
twenty-twenty, Nana. You didn’t know. Star always barks to go
out.”

Rising into a stand, Ollie dragged Nana into
her arms. Her grandmother trembled violently and her arms wound
around Ollie’s waist. “I’m so sorry, Nana. I never imagined he’d
come here.”

Burying her hand in her grandmother’s silver
hair she held her close, not willing to let her go, not yet. “Thank
God he didn’t take you.”

Brandt touched her shoulder and pulled her
away. His hand found one of each of theirs, and he held them tight.
“What happened?”

Ollie forced herself to listen, trying to be
impassive, but she couldn’t. He’d terrorized her grandmother,
strangled her dog. That son of a bitch.

To keep herself from crying, Ollie pulled her
hand out of Brandt’s grip and knelt in front of Star. The collie
lowered her head, a low whine spilling out of her, and Ollie felt
her heart shatter. Like dog, like owner. Looking so damn guilty. By
Nana’s admission she was feeling guilty for letting the monster in,
Star probably for not keeping Nana safe, and Ollie, right now? She
felt responsible for everything that had happened.

“Ollie...” Nana blew out a breath, her voice
so quiet as she continued. “He said he liked dogs. After she
stopped fighting him, he kept telling her what a good girl she
was.”

Ollie’s lips trembled and she pressed them
into a thin line to ward off tears. Nana thought she was just
worried about Star. Ollie rose and shook her head. “Are you both
okay?”

“Yes, Ollie.” Nana smiled and this time it
looked more real. “Neither one of us was hurt. Just scared.”

Traumatized, more likely, but Ollie didn’t
say it. She took a deep breath, gathering strength, and froze. He’d
brought another dog? “What else? Who was the other dog?”

Nana’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Normal
dog. Golden retriever. Obviously his.”

Ollie squeezed her eyes shut. Poor thing.

“Ollie,” Brandt called softly, and she turned
to see him leaning over the table, a white note sitting on top.
Another note. Another message from the man she wished was just
brave enough to come face her. He was pissed she got away? So come
fucking get her already.

“What’s it say?”

Brandt glanced her way, eyes soft. “‘Still
think you know me?’”

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“Did he use gloves, Nana?”

No. Ollie didn’t know him at all. Her jaw
tightened. But this, this was definitely personal now. She was
reaching for her phone to call it in when it rang, sharp and shrill
in the sudden silence of her kitchen. Coward, she wanted to scream
at the ghost of the Hunter’s scent still lingering in the room.
Caine Morgan, flashed on the screen. Screaming wouldn’t fix
anything, finding this bastard would. She answered her phone.

“Caine this isn’t a good time.”

“I don’t give a damn. It’s never a good time.
He took two more of my wolves, Ollie.”

The fight drained out of her and she sank to
the floor. Her breath came slow, surprisingly even. “Two?”

“Danielle and Elizabeth Carson. Danielle is a
mother of four, does accounting for the pack. Quiet as a mouse.
Lizzy...” He paused and she heard the ragged sigh on the other end
of the phone, the low growl. “She’s four. She’s a fucking kid.”

Ollie could still picture the man in the
shack, his face highlighted by the glow of a lantern swinging on
the rafter next to her. The taunting way he’d mocked her, the
fierce bite of his fists whenever he’d slammed it into her gut. She
remembered the confidence she’d felt, the certainty. She’d
honest-to-God thought she could save Rosalie that night, by getting
her to stay put. By convincing her not to run, not to give the
Hunter exactly what he wanted.

She’d been wrong.

Still think you know me?

No. She didn’t know him at all. Then again,
that was probably the point. Ollie pulled herself up, refusing to
break down. He would not win. He wouldn’t beat her down until she
couldn’t get up anymore. “I’m on my way.”

She hit the End button and turned to face her
brother, who looked every bit as wrung out and spent as she felt.
Brandt fisted one hand, and she watched as his lips thinned, the
ripple of anger moving through him before he had it under control.
“We all have cases that haunt us, right?” she whispered and Brandt
just nodded.

“Yeah.”

“He got two this time. Mother and her
four-year-old daughter, both from Sanctuary Falls.”

“I’ll send a pack your way, then, and get
another one out here. He was busy today, maybe—” The words died
away.

But he didn’t have to finish, Ollie knew
exactly what her brother was thinking. Maybe the Hunter had made a
mistake? Ollie was beginning to doubt it. The Hunter no longer
seemed human. He didn’t make mistakes; he was perfect each and
every time. Ollie rubbed the heels of her palms over her eyes. No
one could be this good.

“Don’t leave Nana alone.”

“Child, I’m right here, and I’m fine.”

Brandt shook his head. One corner of his lip
hitched up in a lopsided smile, as playful as he could get with two
more lives hanging in the balance. “I won’t.”

Grabbing her keys, Ollie headed towards the
door when Brandt’s soft words stopped her. “Just don’t do anything
stupid.”

“Like what? Call him out? If I could, I’d
have already done it already. He’s the sadistic cat that likes to
play with his food. Here birdie, birdie, hop. Pounce. He loves this
game of his.”

“You still know him better than anyone else
does. Remember that.”

Ollie slid open the door and let herself out,
sliding the glass pane shut between them so she didn’t have to
answer. The autumn breeze caught her hair, lifting a few strands
and tossing them across her face. Fat lot of good the knowledge was
doing her. She still didn’t know anything important about him.
Nothing that would let her save some lives, at least. Cramming back
the stray locks of hair, she headed for her car.

No. She didn’t know a damn thing about him
anymore.

Chapter Fifteen

Luke
Carson looked like a man waiting to die. His face was sunken, pale,
the crow’s feet around his eyes were suddenly gouged deeper with
anguish and worry. His daughter Janey clung to his hand, her face
and red and puffy with tears, and with her other hand she reached
out to Caine. Seeking comfort, solace from her alpha. He caught her
small hand in his and squeezed. “Hang in there, sweetheart. I’m
going to do everything I can to bring your mother and sister
home.”

The rumble of tires over gravel alerted him
to the car pulling up the drive, and he knew without looking who
was here. The engine went quiet as Janey stared at him, so much
knowledge in her eyes it hurt. A twelve year old girl shouldn’t
look so certain when it came to things like death. “I know.”

Just like she knew they wouldn’t find her mom
and sister before the Hunter killed them. Luke gave a low, keening
groan, and Caine wanted to punch him. He knew Luke was hurting,
worried, but—dammit!—he had a child standing right next to him who
needed him to be strong.

But hitting her father wouldn’t make things
any easier on Janey, so instead he rose and looked the man in the
eyes, alpha to beta. “Take her home. Comfort her.”

Man up and be her goddamned father.

Luke gave a jerky nod and moved away just as
Ollie closed the distance between them, her eyes haunted as she
watched them go. “Family?”

“Yeah, the husband, daughter Janey, and two
other kids. The other two were at a friend’s.” With a frustrated
grunt he turned to give Ollie a good look. Her blue jeans lovingly
clung to her rounded hips and long, full legs, and her white blouse
was wrinkled and mussed with dog hair, but it was still tucked in.
She’d probably just gotten home from work, buried that dog of hers
in a hug, and gotten his call.

At least, he believed that until he got a
good look at her face.

“What happened?”

Her bottom lip trembled, and she shook her
head, moving away. Tilting her nose back into the wind, she
scented, already moving on to work when he caught her by her upper
arm and turned her back to him. “What happened, Ollie?”

“He came to my house, terrorized Nana.” She
turned away, blinking rapidly, and Caine could see the effort it
took her not to cry. “He tied Nana to one of my kitchen chairs,
half strangled Star until he could tie her down with Nana without
getting bitten, and left me another note. Then, apparently, he came
right over here and picked up two more victims.”

Christ. Caine’s tongue swept out over his
lips a second before his other hand slid up to cup the back of her
neck, dragging her flat against him. He took her mouth in a rough,
haphazard kiss. More desire and frustration than finesse. It wasn’t
the kind of kiss meant to woo or seduce. When his tongue slid
against hers this time, it was to drown out his own sorrows by
losing himself in her mouth. God help him, Ollie kissed him right
back, needing the powerful punch of connection and pure lust as
much as he did.

She grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, pulling
him closer, clinging like she’d never let him go. She didn’t have
to worry. Not going anywhere, girl. Then she dropped her head back,
yielding, and a growl bubbled up through his chest.

Ollie pulled back on a soft gasp. Her breath
hitched, and Caine snagged her bottom lip between his teeth,
nibbling until her eyes drifted closed again. “I’m sorry,” he
whispered when he let her go. His thumb swept over her pulse.
Light, sensual. With one touch he sent a shiver down her spine, and
she trembled. “What’d the note say?” he asked, almost absently.

“‘Still think you know me?’” Those plump,
pale lips of hers twisted into a bitter, self-deprecating smile. “I
never knew him at all.”

“Bull.” Her eyes flew opened at that, and
Caine leaned in to nip at her lips again. “Bull, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well. What I think I know hasn’t saved
a soul.”

“Yours. It saved you.” Guilt flared in her
eyes at that, steel turning molten, burning with tears, and Caine
laid a tender kiss against her forehead. “Some days I think I have
you all figured out. I can see the guilt you pile up on yourself,
just one heaping scoop after another until I can barely see you
over the heap of it surrounding you. Guilt for surviving, guilt for
trying, guilt for thinking you failed—”