Taken By The Wolf: Collection Read online

  Eva walked out the front door to an empty parking lot, her white Camry sitting like a lone sentinel at the very end of the lot, close to the road. She felt on top of the world, half skipping as she made her way across the gravel lot. Maybe her life wasn’t going to be so bad after all—maybe eventually she would be able to save up to go back to school.

  She didn’t see the man until his reflection appeared in her window and his hand shot forward, slamming her door shut and pinning her between himself and the car.

  “How’s it going, beautiful?” the greasy biker from earlier asked. “How about that date?”

  The stench of alcohol mixed with his foul breath burned her nostrils. It smelled like a dead animal was rotting just behind his teeth. Even though he stunk of alcohol his eyes were completely aware, not drunk at all.

  “Please leave me alone,” she begged, turning her face away from him.

  “Oh come on, beautiful,” he said, leaning forward and sniffing her neck. “I can smell the fear on you, and that’s not a good smell. Don’t be afraid.”

  “Don’t touch me,” she moaned, feeling tears streaming down her face.

  “Shhhh,” he said, stroking her hair with the back of his hand. “You don’t need to be afraid beautiful, Axel won’t hurt you.”

  “Please, Axel,” she begged; hoping that her using his name would calm him. “Let me go home. I’ll give you all the money I have.”

  “I don’t need money,” he whispered. “I need something else.”

  He reached up and squeezed her left breast hard, causing pain to shoot through her chest.

  “Those are real nice,” he whispered. She cringed and nearly screamed as she felt his snake-like tongue run its way up the side of her neck.

  “NO!” she screamed, bringing her elbow up underneath his chin, knocking him off balance. He cried out and stumbled to the side, leaving her an open path to the bar.

  She took off running, her legs pumping as hard as they could. It seemed like she’d covered a good distance, but the man was on her in less than a second. Her vision blurred as she felt him grab her hair, yanking her hard to the ground. All the air left her body as she hit gravel. A stinging sensation shot through her head. She tried to cry out, but her breath was completely gone. Instead she could only whimper as she rolled over, trying to get away. The hot, sticky sensation of blood trickled down the back of her neck. She was feeling lightheaded and dizzy, but she had to get away.

  “Crawl all you want, beautiful,” the man said, walking up behind her. He put his boot on her ass and shoved, sending her sprawling onto her face from all fours. “You’re all mine.”

  * * *

  Rowan sniffed around the back of the building, looking for some trace of the Satan’s Angel. He had never seen the man before, meaning he was probably a low-level thug. Still, he wouldn’t have traveled this far without his pack. The wolf’s motorcycle sat behind the bar, all by itself in the open. His scent was easy to pick up, but he wasn’t out here—at least not out back.

  Where the fuck did he come from? Rowan cursed in his head. He continued to curse himself, ashamed that he had let a human woman distract him so much. Instead of doing his duty as Sheriff of Bucklin, he had stayed in the bar to make eyes with the human woman. She was beautiful, probably one of the better-looking humans he’d ever seen, but that didn’t excuse his not following the biker when he was thrown out of the bar.

  Rowan started to walk around to the side of the building, ready to give up and return to the alpha council with his head bowed in defeat. They would not like this failure; if any other alpha besides his own sat in the head chair he’d probably be busted down to deputy or worse. Even so, he was going to have to endure quite the ass-chewing before all was said and done, if any of the alphas were brave enough to confront him.

  He started to open the door to his ‘89 Chevy when a stiff breeze blew through, bringing something new to his nostrils.

  Blood, he thought. He sniffed again. The biker.

  Rowan was going to get answers out of the bastard if it was the last thing he did. Satan’s Angels would not find their way back into Cedarville and Bucklin.

  He walked around the corner of the bar, his eyes settling on the scene before him. Eva was flat on her stomach, obviously struggling for air. The beautiful blonde hair that had attracted him earlier was now stained red with her blood. Over her stood the biker, unbuckling his pants as he looked down at Eva like she was a piece of meat.

  All good sense left Rowan’s mind as rage began to course through his veins. His inner wolf screamed to be let out, demanding vengeance for a rival pack member daring to try and violate his human.

  Rowan broke into a dead sprint, gravel flying up behind his boots as he blazed a trail across the parking lot. The biker sniffed the air, looking up just in time to eat a crushing shoulder block to the jaw that sent him off his feet and sprawling to the ground.

  He tried to get up, but Rowan was on him, shifting quickly into wolf form. He was an impressive wolf, much larger than a standard wolf and colored jet black.

  “Oh my god!” the other wolf screamed, trying to shift. Rowan didn’t allow him to; he was on the smaller wolf quickly, his jaws clamping down on the man’s throat.

  As he prepared to deliver the killing blow he looked up, his eyes landing on Eva. She was awake, staring at him as he held onto the biker.

  “My hero,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “The werewolf.”

  Rowan let go of his prey, sense and judgment returning to his rage-addled brain. He had screwed up; he had screwed up big time by being so impulsive.

  He quickly shifted back to human form, his eyes growing wide. How was he going to fix this? He looked down at the biker, who was still alive, barely.

  “Why the hell are Satan’s Angels back in Cedarville?” he demanded. “You know the deal.”

  “You broke the deal,” the biker muttered, barely clinging to life. “She’s missing...retribution…”

  Rowan dropped the man to the ground, his brain now a mass of confusion. What was he talking about? How had they broken the deal?

  He looked over at the girl lying on the ground. She’d seen too much. She had to be dealt with; they couldn’t allow any humans outside Bucklin see them shift. The only humans who could know of their existence were their mates. He bent down, his hands starting to find their way to her neck. Just a quick twist and it’d be all over—no witnesses.

  Nobody except our mates, he thought. He looked up at the sky, a light bulb going on somewhere in his head. Our mates.

  Chapter 3

  Birds chirping and bright sunlight assaulted Eva as she opened her eyes the next morning, trying to get her bearings. War drums beat in her head like a raiding party coming to take her away and each breath jabbed at her sides.

  Where am I? she wondered, sitting up in a strange bed. She was in a twin bed in a tiny bedroom. Nauseating pale blue wallpaper with yellow flowers adorned the walls. The only pieces of furniture to grace her little slice of heaven were the bed, an end table and a dresser. The windows were covered with white, lacey curtains right out of Green Acres.

  She tried to swing her legs around to get out of bed before realizing she was completely dizzy. The room started spinning and next thing she knew she was on the old wooden floor, lying beside the bed.

  The floor began to shake, warning her that someone was coming, just seconds before the door flew open. She looked up, her vision still a bit blurry, but it wasn’t hard to make out the man that stood before her. Rippling muscles, slicked back dark-blonde hair, just the right amount of stubble and two pools of honey-brown for eyes: it was her perfect man from the bar. She lifted her head, the focus starting to return to her eyes. He was looking down at her, one eyebrow cocked, as she fumbled to get up. For some reason he was dressed in a tan Sheriff’s uniform, complete with big gold badge pinned to one breast.

  “Oh my,” was all she could manage as the sight of this mountain of a man in uniform made her heart
do backflips. Embarrassment, flushed her cheeks as she clamped her hand over her mouth, still lying on the ground.

  “Well, come on,” he said with an edge to his voice. “On your feet. The day isn’t going to start itself.”

  She tried to stand up, but he reached down with one large hand, grasping her by the elbow, and yanked her off the ground to her feet. She’d never felt as light as she did in that moment—he’d moved her like she was a sack of potatoes.

  “Thank you,” she said, still unsure what was going on. She was in a strange person’s house and the last thing she remembered was being attacked the night before by the greasy biker outside the bar. Everything after that was a complete blur.

  “Your shirt is a mess,” he said, throwing a blue tank top down on the bed. “This should fit you.”

  “What’s wrong with my shirt?” she asked.

  “You’ll see when you take it off,” he said, shutting the door behind him.

  “I think I liked him better when he was just eye candy,” she said, slipping her white t-shirt over her head. There was no warmth behind his words; he almost sounded annoyed to have her here.

  She looked down at the back of her shirt; it had drops of blood all over it from her head wound the night before. A sick feeling began developing in her stomach; she reached up and felt at the back of her hair, finding it thick and crunchy with dried blood.

  “Do you have a shower?” she asked, walking out of the bedroom after she had slipped the tank top on. “I need to clean the blood out of my hair.”

  Her mysterious savior was standing in the kitchen, eating scrambled eggs of a plate. He looked up from his mouthful of food. Without a word he pointed down a short hallway before returning to gobbling his eggs.

  “Thanks,” she muttered. The house was straight out of the 1950s. It appeared to have two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, dining and living rooms. There wasn’t much to it. Eva wouldn’t have been shocked if the garage was detached and sitting behind the house. Luckily her savior had shampoo in his bathroom, though it didn’t look like it got used too much. It felt great to wash the blood out of her hair and feel at least somewhat clean again after her ordeal the night before.

  When she was satisfied with the job she’d done she walked back into the kitchen, finding her man waiting with his arms crossed.

  “I couldn’t stand the blood in my hair,” she said.

  “Understandable,” he said. “Most females don’t like blood in their fur.”

  “Fur?” she said, giving him a strange look. What was this guy’s deal?

  “Yes, fur,” he said, grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge and tossing one to her. “We’re going to be late. We need to hurry.”

  “Late to where?” she asked.

  “City Hall,” he said. “We have a meeting with the mayor.”

  “We?” she asked. “You’re the sheriff or deputy or whatever of this place. I have to be getting back to my car. Can you drop me there on your way to work?”

  “Afraid not,” he said, giving her a cool look. “We’re going to see the mayor.”

  “Why the hell am I going to see the mayor?” she demanded. Had she broken some law last night? Was this guy taking her in?

  “Because we have to figure out what to do with you,” he said, looking annoyed.

  “What to do with me? How about you just take me home? I have to work tonight!” she said, putting her hands on her hips and shooting him an annoyed glare.

  “Nope,” he said. It was beginning to really grate on her nerves, how matter of fact he was with everything he said. She had read the confidence all over him last night—the way he carried himself, the look on his face, the smirk he’d given her when he caught her looking—but she hadn’t expected it to carry over into him being so stubborn. Did he really think he could control her like this? Because he said it was happening, then it was going to happen?

  “Fine, I’ll walk home,” she said, heading for the door.

  “Do you know your way back to Cedarville from Bucklin?” he asked.

  Eva froze. Did he say Bucklin? She began to feel sick again, and needed to grab the nearest chair for support. Cedarville and Bucklin were the only two towns for miles in this part of the state, and they were twenty-three miles apart!

  “Are you the sheriff of Bucklin?” she asked.

  “The one and only,” he said, flashing her a cocky grin. “This is my town.”

  “I want to go back to my town,” she said. The walls were starting to close in around her; she was beginning to feel trapped and alone. Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead and her legs were shaking.

  “You can’t go back to your town,” he said, his voice growing more serious. “You’ve seen too much.”

  “Too much of what?” she asked.

  “You know what you saw,” he said. “I was supposed to kill you, but I brought you here instead. You had better hope the mayor is feeling generous today. He doesn’t have a lot of compassion for humans.”

  “Humans?” she asked. Suddenly, images from the night before began flooding back into her concussed brain. She was lying on the ground and she looked up to see Bill hit Axel, knocking him to the ground. After beating on Axel he had stepped back, his body twisting and turning into that of a large wolf. The way the wolf had looked at her as she lost consciousness roared back into her head—there’d been concern in his eyes. Yet here she was, in the werewolf’s house.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” she said, trying to steady herself.

  “Whoa there!” he said, coming forward.

  “Why are the lights getting dim?” she asked, and then everything went out.

  * * *

  “Son of a bitch,” Rowan cursed, looking at the girl splayed out on his floor. “Humans and their weak stomachs.”

  She wasn’t the first human to pass out when she realized she was facing a werewolf. A lot of them didn’t come around to the idea and they ended up worse off for it. Hopefully, this one would come around. It was stupid of him to bring her here, but she would have been as good as dead if he had left her at the bar. The Satan’s Angels would have picked up her scent quickly and that would have been it for Eva and her beautiful sapphire eyes.

  “Come on,” he said, lifting her off the ground and setting her in a recliner. “Wake up, it’s okay.”

  He didn’t understand where this bout of temporary insanity was coming from; he was the top enforcer for the entire city, number one warrior for the Dawnguard Pack. Why should he care if a human had to lose her life during a pack war?

  She’s innocent, he thought. And beautiful. She deserves to live.

  He’d repeated those words in his head all night as he lay in his bed, shifted into wolf form. His human body was cumbersome, but because of the set-up of Bucklin he spent most of his waking hours in human form. There was no reason he couldn’t enjoy the finer points of wolf life while he slept. The only other time he was really free was when he went hunting with some of the other members of his pack.

  She groaned loudly, her eyes fluttering open as he squatted down in front of her, putting a hand on her thigh to try and keep her calm. Humans seemed to calm when you touched them: it was one of their many charms.

  “You’re really a werewolf?” she asked, regaining her senses.

  “Yes,” he said. He could have lied and told her that she’d dreamt it all, but then she would go home and Satan’s Angels would come for her. The Bucklin packs were going to have to deal with the biker gang eventually.

  “That’s cool,” she said, smiling.

  “Cool?” he asked. That was not the reaction he’d been expecting.

  “Yeah. I’ve never met a werewolf before,” she said.

  “Then why did you pass out?” he asked. This was completely confusing. If she hadn’t passed out due to fear, then why did she go down?

  “It shocked me at first,” she said, still speaking weakly, in a hushed tone. “But mainly it was because my head hurt and I was f
eeling dizzy.”

  “You have a nasty concussion,” he said. “I’m really going to have to get you to the doc after we meet with the council. I think you need to eat something too.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she said. “Why did you bring me here?”

  There was still no point in lying. “The man who attacked you is a member of a rival pack. They’re going to pick up your scent and then they’ll come for you. Do you want to be here in Bucklin or do you want to be back in Cedarville when they come?”

  “A rival pack?” she asked. “Can you really defend me against a lot of wolves?”

  “No,” he said. “But the entire town can.”

  “The entire town?” she asked, sinking back into the chair and swallowing hard.

  “You have a lot to learn about Bucklin,” he said, smirking at her.

  Chapter 4

  Her captor/savior, she wasn’t sure which, had insisted she eat something before meeting with the council. He tried to fix bacon, eggs and sausage, but she’d settled on some toast and coffee. Watching him try to work the coffee pot was right out of a comedy show—he obviously didn’t use it too often.

  “Have you never made coffee?” she finally asked, trying to hold back laughter. The proud wolf might be offended if she laughed at him.

  “Not really,” he said, fumbling with it. “Wolves don’t drink caffeine. We don’t need the stimulant.”

  “You also don’t drink alcohol, do you?” she asked, remembering his one Jack and Coke from the night before.

  “No,” he said, standing up. “Our blood metabolizes the alcohol too fast, so we can’t get drunk. Some younger wolves claim they can, but they’re just being pups.”

  “Pups,” she said, giggling. This was going to be a whole new world, and it didn’t look like she was going home anytime soon, so she needed to get used to it. Home. It seemed so far away right now.

  Eva had been brave and impulsive her entire life. From the time she climbed on top of the house when she was five and subsequently fell off, shattering her arm and collarbone, to the time she dropped out of college to get married. She just did without thinking about the consequences and unfortunately, each time she did that she made a mess of things. It was why her life was a prison that consisted of two jobs and her tiny apartment.