Dreaming of the Wolf (Heart of the Wolf #8)(13)

Jake watched from the cover of the woods, ready to come to her rescue if she needed him, when the sound of a group of men talking and laughing and heading in Alicia’s and the armed men’s direction caught everyone’s attention.

“Get up,” the uninjured man said to the other. “Hurry, we gotta get out of here.”

“Kill her,” the injured man insisted.

“Another day,” the other promised. He holstered his gun and then helped the wounded man to his feet as he cursed and groaned. Then they headed back the way they had come, the injured one walking with a pronounced limp as blood soaked his trouser leg.

Before the four men walking in Alicia’s direction were in sight, Alicia had tucked her gun away, but she glanced warily toward the woods where Jake had taken off. He stayed hidden in the pines and continued to observe her until the hikers reached her.

When the four men saw her, they greeted her, looking her over and probably trying to figure out why two men and a woman were wearing business suits there, and one of the men appeared injured. The hikers glanced at the memorial wreath she’d laid at the foot of a tree, expressed condolences, and continued on their way, a couple of them looking over their shoulders in her direction. Her focus remained on the path in the direction of the parking area.

“She’s the one whose mother was murdered in the woods,” the one said to the others in a low voice, but with his enhanced hearing, Jake heard.

“What about those two guys?” another asked.

“I told you I heard gunfire,” the first said.

“Think she shot the guy?”

“It was hard to say, but the way he was limping and the other guy was trying to help him along the path, I’d say it was a good bet.”

“Good for her.”

Their conversation trailed off as they hiked on the path deeper into the woods.

Jake didn’t like that she was trying to put Mario Constantino and Danny Massaro behind bars on her own, that they’d gotten away with murder, and that she appeared to be all alone in the world. But getting into human affairs was one of the things his kind didn’t do. That didn’t stop him from wanting to do something, though, where she was concerned.

Satisfied she’d be all right until he could return to her, he raced through the woods to where he’d left his clothes, then shape-shifted and dressed. When he was again on the hikers’ trail, he stalked back with a hurried stride to Alicia’s location to intercept her.

She was beautiful and sexy with the breeze tugging at her bun and more tendrils of her dark hair caressing her cheeks. Her jacket had been left open, and her silk blouse was now visible. She looked sensuously undone.

“Jake,” Alicia said breathlessly as soon as she saw him. She was still standing in the same spot near the wreath of flowers, looking tense and anxious, and he assumed she was waiting until she presumed the thugs had left in their car. But as soon as she caught sight of Jake, she moved toward him, appearing glad to see him and a little shaken.

He quickened his pace, trying to keep his expression neutral. But he was angry—furious with the bastards who had threatened her and none too happy with Alicia for dismissing him when he knew something like this could happen. Not to mention annoyed with himself for not forcing the issue and staying with her.

His eyes trailed down her body, but she didn’t appear to have been hurt. He took her hands and drew her into his arms. She trembled, and tears appeared in her eyes before she melted against him.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his voice a lot rougher than he’d intended as one arm curled around her waist and his free hand rubbed her back reassuringly.

She nodded, looked back at the wreath as if she was saying her good-byes to her mother, and then said with a shaky voice, “I’ve… I’ve never shot a man before.”

“He’ll live,” Jake said with sincere regret.

She walked with him in the direction of the parking lot. “How did you know where to find me?”

“I watched you enter the florist shop before I dropped my work off at the art gallery. I was worried that the man who hassled you at the restaurant might try again.” He took her hand and interlocked his fingers with hers. Her fingers tightened over his in a welcoming manner. “Do you live in Breckenridge?”

He didn’t like the idea that she might be in danger if she lived in the area and these thugs had easy access to her.

“No. I’m staying at a hotel for a few days. Just doing a job.”

He stopped and looked down at her, his brow deeply furrowed. “You aren’t just doing a job.”

Her chin lifted a little in defiance, her dark brown eyes narrowing. No argument there, which meant he was correct in his assumption. He had to remind himself she wasn’t a wolf. That she didn’t have a pack. That it shouldn’t matter what a human female had in mind to do.

But family took care of family. The thought kept nagging at him—where was her family? A father? Siblings? Anyone else? Why was she after these men all on her own? Why wasn’t anyone keeping tabs on her?

He assumed the judge had set a bail bond low enough that the men had been able to post bail. If they had skipped their court dates, as she assumed, she would be in danger while she trailed them.

“Admit it. Mario and the other man you mentioned, Danny Massaro, murdered your mother. It’s a vendetta,” he said quietly, but the undercurrent of warning was there. What she was doing was wrong, and it could get her killed.