Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(18)

Dropping her suitcase, she flicked off her flashlight and shoved it into her pocket, then fished her cell phone out of her purse, swiped the screen, and punched in her security code. Wulfe’s dark form rose large before her as he reached for the phone and snatched it from her hand.

He tapped a number, lifted the phone to his ear, and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go. Quickly.”

She picked up her suitcase and together they hurried through the dark woods. Without a flashlight, she could see virtually nothing, but Wulfe’s tight grip kept her upright each time she stumbled.

“Natalie and I are in the woods behind her house,” he said into the phone. “We’ve got Mage sentinels on our tail. I’m guessing more than two dozen.” Disconnecting the call, he released her hand long enough for her to slide the phone back into her purse, then took it again.

“They’re on their way,” he assured her.

“Where are they?”

“Great Falls. Virginia side. Give me your suitcase.”

She handed it to him and his hand tightened on hers as they half walked, half ran.

“That’s an hour from here.”

“Not the way we travel. But our transport has to find us, and that could take time.”

Which made little sense. “Can you see where you’re going?”

“Well enough. My human night vision isn’t nearly as good as my wolf’s, but it’s better than yours.”

A dull thud reached her ears, vibrating up through the ground. Footfalls. A lot of them. Terror crawled slowly up her spine.

Suddenly, Wulfe made a low sound of pain. “Fuck. Sorry. Natalie, I’m going to have to shift. The draden . . . I can’t explain but I have to shift. Take your suitcase.”

He shoved her small case into her hand, then stepped away from her and in another spray of colored lights, again became the wolf.

“Wulfe, I can’t see,” she whispered. He was little more than a dark smudge against the nearby trees.

I’ll guide you.

The smudge moved to her side, his warm body pressing against hers. Natalie slid her hand into his fur, then followed as he started forward. But the ground was wet and uneven, small branches strewn about everywhere from the storm, and she could only move so fast.

Behind them, the footfalls grew louder.

Natalie, we need to run. Hold on to me and do the best you can.

Her pulse began to race because she knew they were in trouble. Dropping her suitcase and her purse, she bent over to grip Wulfe lightly around the neck, not wanting to add weight to his already wounded body.

“Be my eyes, Wulfe.”

She nearly lost her grip on him as he took off, but she managed to hold on and run alongside him, at a slow and awkward gait. Behind them, the pounding grew louder until Natalie’s spine crawled, and she kept imagining she felt the steel of a blade piercing the back of her neck.

“How much farther?” she whispered.

Too far. But all we need to do is stay ahead of them until the Ilinas find us.

But in the next instant, her foot snagged on a fallen limb, and she went down, hard.

Natalie.

She saw the sparkling lights, though even those were barely visible in the dark, and a moment later, strong arms scooped her up, then almost as quickly, released her legs, setting her back on her feet. She understood why as the clouds broke apart and moonlight illuminated the Mage running to surround them on every side. As before, they wore blue tunics and carried swords. As before, they meant trouble.

“Wulfe!” a woman’s voice called in the distance.

“Here!” Wulfe shouted in return. And before Natalie could wonder, two dark forms, two women, appeared beside them. Out of thin air.

“Stop them!” one of the enemy shouted.

Wulfe whirled and grabbed Natalie by the shoulders. Though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt the force of his gaze. “You’re safe, Natalie. Don’t be afraid.”

Then he released her and stepped back. And her world went into free fall.

Natalie swayed, stunned.

The sudden lights blinded her. Voices erupted all around her. One moment she’d been in the pitch-black, rain-soaked woods. The next, here, behind this house, this . . . mansion . . . lit up like a birthday cake. People everywhere.

Impossible.

Her vision swam, her pulse thudded as her body turned cold and clammy.

Strong feminine hands grabbed hold of her arm. “Don’t faint on me, human,” the owner of those hands said, not unkindly.

“I need to get my head down.” Close by, she heard the sound of vomiting, but she struggled too hard to keep from passing out to worry about anyone else. Sinking to her knees, she folded over until her forehead nearly touched the dry grass. A soothing, slender hand stroked her back, filling her with warmth, easing back the dizziness, the shock.

As the vertigo passed, Natalie took a deep breath and sat up, glancing at the woman—a petite blonde with sharp, bright blue eyes. “Thank you.”

The woman smiled. “My gift comes in handy every now and then.”

“What happened?” Natalie asked, pushing herself slowly to her feet.

The woman grabbed her arm, helping her up. “I brought you to Feral House. You’ll be safe here.”

“You brought me?” Behind her companion, she saw Wulfe rising from his hands and knees, the light from dozens of windows playing over the muscles and contours of his perfect form.