Wulfe Untamed (Feral Warriors #8)(23)

As they crossed the mammoth foyer, Natalie considered Lyon’s words. If he’d meant to scare her, he’d succeeded. His was no idle threat, she knew that in her gut . . . a gut that felt like it had been filled with cement. Xavier’s warning made sense, now. There was honor in these males, and goodness. She was fairly sure of that. But they were warriors, first. Soldiers battling an enemy who could not be allowed to win. If she and Xavier got in the way, they’d be removed. As simple as that. Collateral damage.

She understood the ways of war, understood that sometimes a few had to be sacrificed to protect the many. The Ferals wouldn’t hurt them if they had a choice. And she’d do nothing to betray them, just as she’d promised. But with her glowing like a nuclear reactor, they might not have that choice, no matter what she did.

Agitation simmered low in her blood even as she fought it back. She might not be able to control her glow. But she could accept her fate, cooperate, and pray it was enough to keep Xavier and her alive.

As they started down another hallway, Wulfe stopped and opened a door, revealing a stairwell that looked as if it disappeared deep beneath the Earth.

Natalie eyed the long flight of stairs warily. “Is this where you sleep?”

“My room’s on the third floor. This is the way to the workroom, with the tools and spare locks.” He motioned her forward. “I’m right behind you.”

Taking a deep breath, she started down, her head beginning to feel unattached. Never could she remember feeling so physically and emotionally drained. No, that wasn’t true. She’d felt worse in the days after her release, when she’d feared Xavier might really be dead. But there was no denying she’d experienced shock after shock tonight. And her mind and body wanted nothing more than to simply shut down.

“Wulfe, how long until we know if Tighe got to my house before the police?”

“Let me check.”

She glanced over her shoulder to find him pulling a phone out of his back pocket. A moment later, Tighe’s voice filled the stairwell.

“Hey, buddy.”

“You’re on speaker, Tighe. I’m with Natalie. Are you there?”

“We are. You left a bit of a mess. Nice work.”

A hint of a smile flitted across Wulfe’s face as his gaze met hers. “The situation’s contained?”

“Best I can tell. There were no humans around when we got here, and while I’m not the best tracker, I circled the house in cat form and didn’t catch fresh scent of any humans in the yard other than Natalie. We’ve got the place warded, now, so no one will see any blood if they do pay the place a visit. Melisande and her mist warriors have already disposed of the bodies.”

“Good. Thanks, Stripes.” Wulfe shoved the phone back in his pocket and glanced at her. “Feel better?”

“Yes. Very.” She turned and continued down the stairs. No one would find the blood or the bodies in her house. But when she failed to show up for work, people were bound to fear the worst. “Wulfe, I know Lyon said to keep me away from phones, but it would help both of us if I could make a couple of calls to cover my tracks. One to my mom, the other to my office manager. Think of the firestorm my disappearing again will create in the media.” Her mom didn’t deserve that. Nor did she want her patients making the trip to her office only to be turned away.

“What about your fiancé?”

“We broke off our engagement this morning.” Right after Wulfe left, she realized.

“Do I need to beat the shit out of him?”

At the anger in his low words, Natalie looked over her shoulder to find him watching her with righteous fury. Affection welled up inside her, hot and fast.

“No. I was the one who broke it off, but he wasn’t surprised.”

Slowly, the anger drained from his face. “Why not?”

She started to answer, then hesitated, thinking it through. “I suppose we’d both begun to realize he wasn’t the man for me.”

Wulfe turned still as stone. “Is there another?”

She hesitated. “No.” But as she stared into those dark eyes, something soft fluttered inside of her. A wish. A longing. There could be. But she didn’t say the words out loud. He was a godlike immortal, and she was merely a human caught up in something she should never have known existed. If all went as hoped, soon she wouldn’t even remember him. Or that Xavier lived.

Her heart plummeted.

“I’ll talk to Lyon about those phone calls,” Wulfe assured her. As she started back down, he asked, “What will you tell them?”

She thought about that for a moment. “I’ll say that I need to get away for a little while. I don’t think anyone will judge me considering all that’s happened. And if they do, so what? It’s better for them to judge me than to search for me.”

When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs, Wulfe moved past her, leading the way down a wide hallway lit by mock-gas lanterns, giving the space an old-time, atmospheric feel. A feel that quickly dissipated as he opened one of the doors along the hallway and, flipping a switch, illuminated a huge workshop filled with every kind of power tool known to man.

Wulfe pulled open a drawer in a wall unit filled with them, digging out a handful of small items.

“Here,” he said, and dropped several pieces of dead-bolt hardware into her palm before grabbing a screwdriver and drill.