Wolf at the Door Page 4
“The last victim. I didn’t even know her name, not until afterwards, when I read about her in the paper. But he dragged her into the room. Said he thought he had a foolproof plan. She picked up on what he wanted, knew what he was going to do to her, so she said she’d tell him how to become a wolf. It was a lie, but the moment I saw what she was doing I started begging her to shut up. He wouldn’t believe me anymore, but if he thought I was trying to shut her up? That...that worked.”
A knock sounded at the front door and Brandt bit off a curse. “Stay right here, won’t be a moment.”
She didn’t even look at him as he went to the front door, no doubt too lost in her gruesome memories. It had to be a horror film, one he wished she didn’t have to relive. He shoved open the front door. Tate stood there, hands in his pockets.
“What?” Brandt bit out.
“All clear. He didn’t linger. From what we can tell, the car was parked out on the road. He dropped her gift, walked around the house, lingered below the second story window at the back of the place. The one by the oak out there? Smelled like he tried to climb it. Walked around the rest of the house and left. Can’t do anything about the rest of the pack without names and addresses.”
“Leave it for now. Pass the evidence over to the night shift pack and go home and get some rest. What little you can before we have to officially be on shift, anyway. I have to finish up here first.”
Tate’s eyes narrowed. He should have known. There was no way Tate would go home to sleep while Brandt kept working. “Boss?”
“Charles Wolfe. Run the name. Dig up every scrap of information you can on him. Find out everything.”
There was a question in the other Hound’s face, but thankfully he held off on asking. Brandt didn’t want to explain, he just wanted to get back inside and let Timber finish. As if he knew, Tate gave a slight nod. “Yes, sir.”
Brandt turned back to Timber. She was watching him, and he could practically feel her trying to figure him out. “You okay?” he asked softly.
“You’re the first Hound I’ve ever met who actually seems to give a damn.”
He’d heard her story. He could believe that. “I hate to admit it, but we’re still few and far between. Times are changing, but not fast enough. And it doesn’t undo the past.”
“Fair enough.”
“So you escaped the night the twelfth victim died three years ago?”
Timber nodded. “She convinced him that he had to be bitten by a shifter in wolf form while fucking his mate. But I couldn’t be touching silver. He had to let his inner beast out, and mine couldn’t be restrained.”
Nausea churned in Brandt’s gut.
“I think she was hoping we could overpower him...with him focused on me and her in wolf form, she might be able to kill him and save us both.”
“But it backfired.”
“Yeah. He insisted she had to bite him where he could watch her. He wasn’t stupid. She attacked him, but he shot her before she could kill him. He was pissed then. All-out rampage.” Timber blew out a long, slow breath. “He knew I’d played him again. He grabbed his knife. He never used the gun on me. Too easy for me to end up dead.”
“And a knife wasn’t?”
“It was a little one. He could control the cuts.”
“Jesus,” Brandt said, his body on the verge of shifting to predator form. He wanted nothing more than to find that bastard. Wolfe wasn’t human anymore, and the moment he’d gotten his wish and became a shifter, he’d lost the right to a prison cell. The only thing coming for Wolfe now was a silver bullet.
“At first it was just the normal shit. Then he decided I needed a more severe punishment. Maybe I’d stop fighting him so much then.” Her hand moved to her left breast and Brandt remembered the way her night shirt had hung flat there when she hadn’t had time to dress. He’d thought breast cancer. One look at her face then, and he knew he’d been wrong. “I blacked out from the pain or blood loss or something. I don’t know. It was hazy after that. When I woke up, he’d done a shitty job stitching me up, but he and the body were gone.”
“Let me guess, he forgot the chain?”
Timber gave him a weary smile. “I think he thought I wasn’t going to wake up in any hurry. But the moment I came to and realized nothing was tying me down, I was gone.”
“Was he turned that night?”
“No. It might have worked if he’d let her do it her way and she’d really gotten to maul his ass, but as badly as he wanted to be a wolf, he wanted to stay alive more.”
Figured. It would have saved them all a lot of trouble. Brandt gazed at her. Timber looked exhausted, as if she’d had to vividly relive every moment of her time with that psycho to tell him the story.
“They called him the Wolfman in the news.” She gave a sharp laugh. “He loved it. Lapped it up like a starving dog.”
Brandt nodded. He hated it when the media gave a criminal a catchy nickname. It was recognition, and it fed their mania.
“There’s a chance,” Brandt began, hating what he had to say, “that his starting back up again isn’t a coincidence.”
Timber leaned back, inhaling a long, deep breath. She smiled at him. “Don’t bullshit me. We both know it’s not. Even if there had been some doubt, Becky’s hair tie on my front stoop is his announcement that he’s here for me.”
“But this time he might not want you as a mate. Sometimes killers evolve. There’s a strong chance he wants to kill you this time.”
“Good. I want to kill him, too.” There was a growl in her voice when she said it, a low, bass rumble. “And yeah, you’re probably right. But I can promise you one thing.”
“And that is?”
“If he manages to grab me again—” She broke eye contact then, her teeth gritted together as she stared out across her living room. Brandt wanted to tell her this man wouldn’t, that they could keep her safe, but he hesitated to make a promise he couldn’t guarantee he could keep. Timber had seen enough of STE’s failures.
When she finally looked back at him her gaze was like a club to the gut, “—he’ll take his time. He didn’t go to all the trouble of tracking me down to make it quick.”
Chapter Six
Timber watched Brandt flinch. Which was good. He needed to know Charles like she did. He needed to know what he was up against, know what kind of monster was hunting during his watch. Maybe, unlike the Hounds before him, he might actually make an attempt to stop the bastard.
“Don’t get me wrong,” she added. “I’ll fight him. And if he gives me a chance to kill him, then you better have that silver bullet ready, because he’ll be a dead man walking and I don’t care about the consequences.”
“We could move you into a Shifter Protection—”
Hell no. She shook her head and held up a hand to cut him off.
“Didn’t think you’d go for that,” he sighed, but at least he didn’t push. She’d gone to the Hounds once before for help. Brandt was their second shot at getting it right.
“I’ve given you everything I know on this, but excuse me if I don’t trust your guys not to hand me over if he waltzes in and promises to stop killing in exchange for me.”
Brandt gave a growl then and stepped closer. Everything inside her went utterly still, her muscles tensed and ready to resist the danger that threatened in his eyes.
“I can’t promise you a lot,” Brandt said, his voice dark and deadly, full of a depth of rage she hadn’t expected. “But I can promise you this; I will do everything in my power to catch this man. And I can promise you that I won’t hand you over to that devil again. My pack? If they want to keep their badge as a Hound and not end up in a silver-barred cell themselves, then they’ll damn well do the same.”
He’d narrowed the distance between them until she could feel his heat, smell the soft hint of shampoo from his last shower. She could see the dark stubble just poking through along his jawline. But it was his eyes, a dark mocha brown, that captivated her.
A dark brown curl hung over his forehead, and she had to tuck her hands in her pockets to keep from reaching up and swiping it aside. She’d never thought she’d see the day when she was attracted to a Hound. But something about Brandt felt safe. And strong. Which, in a way, scared her more than anything else had in a long time.
Because he could hurt her, and she might not see it coming.
“I want to believe you,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to believe me yet. Trust comes with time, I know that.” She felt his breath against her skin and closed her eyes. When his fingertips brushed her temple she jerked, just a slight flinch, but it made him pull away. “We need to find a way, though, to keep you safe. One you’re willing to work with.”
“I’m safe enough if you find him.”
“It might not be that easy.”
Timber trembled. She should have known. But she didn’t know what scared her more...Charles knowing where she was and just coming for her when he felt like it. Or, letting herself go into Shifter Town Enforcement’s ‘protection’ and feeling the hurt and betrayal again when they handed her over.
Oh, she wanted to believe Brandt wouldn’t. That he’d make sure his pack wouldn’t.
But it only took one to make the call. One to send her back.
At least here she had a shot at fighting Charles alone. She couldn’t do it with a Hound holding her down until Charles could drag her away. She tried to lock her arms around herself for comfort, but she couldn’t stop trembling. Not until Brandt’s warm hands cupped her arms. He seemed to steady her, hold her still, so she didn’t feel like she was shattering.
“What are you willing to do?” he asked softly.
“Just find him and let me worry about me until then.”
The muscle in his jaw flexed and she could hear his teeth grind, sense frustration bubbling through him. She felt it in the way his fingers tensed against her arms. His grip didn’t hurt, but the tension let her know exactly what he was feeling.
“Do you have a spare room?”
She jerked in his grip, with every intention of backing away, but he didn’t let her go. “I’m not letting another Hound in my house.”
“I’m not asking for anyone else. I will post patrol units to keep an eye out around here, but they’ll know not to invade your space.” Her brows furrowed, and he sighed as he let her go. “It’s not ideal. But you shouldn’t have to face him alone. And you are right, Timber, Charles Wolfe will be coming for you. I don’t want you in this house alone.”
“So you’re, what? Just going to move in?”
“I don’t think it’ll take that long. And I’m offering to stay. You won’t allow protection from anyone else, but will you accept it from me?”
She didn’t want a Hound—any Hound—staying in her house. Timber wanted to tell him no, but she didn’t want to face another night like last night alone, either. She fidgeted under his gaze. Yes...no. She didn’t know.
He tilted his head at the rest of the house behind her. “The room at the back of the house, second story, the one with the oak tree outside its window. Which room is that?”
Everything inside her went still, fear clawed at her throat, raking down through her chest, and dropping into the pit of her stomach. “Why?”
The question came out hoarse, broken.
“After Wolfe left Rebecca’s hair tie on your front steps, he circled the house. His tracks stopped below that window. One of my Hounds said he tried to climb the tree before giving up and moving on.”
Suddenly dizzy, she could barely stay on her feet, her legs quivering as if they’d just give way. She wanted to ask Brandt how Charles could possibly have known...but she was pretty sure she already knew the answer. He’d killed Becky, killed someone else before that. He’d been here for a while. And no doubt he’d known she was here. She always closed the curtains, but some nights she liked to look out at the moon before bed.
Some nights she liked to crack the window open enough to let the breeze blow through her hair before she went to face the demons in her sleep.
Her fingers itched to go secure that window so she could never open it again.
“All I have is the couch,” she whispered.
“It’s your room, isn’t it?”
Timber lowered her chin in a very slight nod. Brandt muttered a soft curse and dug out a card. “This number here is my cell. Call it if you need anything. I’ll have patrol units out here all day, but you shouldn’t see them. They’ll stay out of your hair.”
She took the card, doing her best to ignore the shake of her hand.
“I’ll stay here tonight to keep watch. It’s not a long-term solution, but we need to keep you safe. We also need to notify your pack. If he can’t get to you—”
“He’ll go after them. I need to tell them they’re not safe in Bear Creek anymore.” If they ever were. She was turning to find her phone when Brandt caught her arm.
“We’re going to do everything we can to keep all of you safe.”
Timber nodded. Part of her believed him. The other part of her still lingered in the past, in the indelible memory of what had happened last time. Still, she didn’t say a word to contradict him as Brandt walked out her front door, leaving her to the silence of her house.
Then she took a deep breath and picked up her phone. Her wolves needed to hear about the danger from her.
And somehow, with or without Shifter Town Enforcement, Timber was going to find a way to make sure every woman who had come to her for protection was kept safe. Even if they all had to sleep in her house with Brandt on her couch.
A soft smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Actually, that sounded like a grand idea.
***
Exhaustion knotted between his shoulder blades. Brandt hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, rubbing the back of his neck. Somehow Timber had managed to call every single one of her wolves before he’d had the chance. Three had already packed up and disappeared. He couldn’t blame them, and when he called Timber to ask why they weren’t answering, he could tell she didn’t either.
But that still left twelve. He managed to move two into Delphi’s pack and three more had agreed to be put under shifter protection. The rest were moving on. They’d run from danger to get here, and they didn’t need someone else’s problems on top of theirs. Thankfully, it narrowed the availability of Wolfe’s preferred targets considerably. Brandt knew without a shadow of a doubt that Wolfe would go after Timber’s wolves the moment he realized he couldn’t get to her.
He’d keep attacking until she came out of hiding. Or was forced to by STE, which he was probably counting on.
And, as much as Brandt wanted to believe he could keep everyone safe, there were no guarantees. He could only do his best, offer them his best. Bracing his elbows against his desk, he dropped his face into his hands. Not that his best felt like much at the moment. Charles Wolfe. Tate had dug up everything Shifter Town Enforcement could find on the man.
Wolfe didn’t have a record. He’d come from a good neighborhood, good family. Both parents dead, he’d been an only child. If he had any surviving relatives, there weren’t any Tate had been able to track down.
And he’d never once had a run-in with Shifter Town Enforcement.
Whoever Timber had gone to before had not only written her off when they’d handed her back to Wolfe, but they’d tossed out her complaint as well. There was no record. Nothing.
A sudden spurt of fury made him lash out, his fist slamming into the desk as he stood up.
Last known address? The bastard’s childhood home, and that had been foreclosed on four years ago. They had nothing but a ghost name. There were no credit cards to chase. They had a picture, one he would run by Timber tonight to make sure, but Tate had already arranged to have it plastered all over every news station, internet news site and ne
wspaper they could find. The local wolf packs had received the image first.
Everyone needed to know what the man stalking them looked like.
But ultimately, it was a very weak safety measure. If Wolfe caught them from behind...
Frustrated, Brandt leaned back in his chair. Tate hadn’t found much more on Timber than Wolfe. Her family was dead, she’d had a pack back in Chicago, but if anyone had bothered to report her missing, Shifter Town Enforcement hadn’t kept the file.
He knew the system was corrupt, but hell, it was cases like this that pissed him off the most. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to trust anyone. Tapping the desk with a pen, he stared at the phone. At least she’d opened up. Thanks to Timber they knew who they were after, and while they couldn’t simply go knock on Wolfe’s door and catch him, she’d given Brandt glimpses into how the Wolfman worked.
He’d killed to torture Timber, to become a wolf-shifter. He’d gotten the latter, but it would all be about Timber now. She’d been a part of his original obsession, and Brandt knew it wouldn’t just go away. Hell. He snatched the phone and dialed.
“Lawrence,” a soft feminine voice came over the line and Brandt found himself smiling. It had been what Ollie had said about her experience which helped him get through to Timber earlier. His sister was the best link he had right now.
“Hey, Ol.”
“You sound like hell.”
Considering he felt like hell, he didn’t see any point in taking offense. He remembered a conversation they’d had when she’d been trying to get a step ahead of the Hunter. No one had known that killer as well as Ollie, but sometimes knowing still left you blind.
“You remember the Wolfman case?” She hadn’t worked it, but she’d studied it. She’d studied most high profile cases and, considering Brandt had been hell-bent on finding the guy and failed, Ollie had taken a keener interest in that one than most.
“Yeah. Guy was killing wolf-shifter females on the full moon. Stopped after a year, was never caught. Drove you nuts. You hate not getting the bad guy,” she gave a chuckle, “runs in the family I guess. Why?”