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MICHAEL LIGHTFOOT RAISED his head to the moon and howled. The silvery crescent carved a grinning bite out of a midnight blue sky sprinkled with twinkle lights. Off in the distance, cushioned by the humid air of the early summer night, an answering howl echoed. Wild wolves hunted tonight and he wanted to catch up to them. The uncompromising need to hunt would come with the full moon. For now, he was content to run with the pack, his nose filled with the scents of the forest.
A branch snapped and the sound ricocheted like a gunshot. He dropped to a crouch and waited, all his senses open and questing for the source of the noise. His sensitive ears picked up the rustle of cloth and a soft thud of footfalls in the thick carpet of leaves. He lifted his nose and sniffed. Human. His teeth bared. Why was a human female here deep in the forest, especially this close to the pack’s den? One lone female wolf remained with the pups, making her and the little ones vulnerable. The fur rose on his ruff and a rumbling growl echoed in his chest. He slipped through the forest, getting between the den and the woman. He would not leave the beta female to defend the pups alone.
All senses attuned to every smell and rustle, he stalked the human. Her scent wafted on the breeze, sighing and whispering a siren’s song through the pine boughs. He shook his head and fought the urge to sneeze, feeling almost desperate to get the woman’s scent out of his nose. More curious now than apprehensive, he watched her drop into a hollow behind an old tree fall. Canvas grated as she reached in her bag for something. He stiffened, teeth bared, ready to charge if she pulled out a weapon. No gun but he didn’t relax. The camera in her hand could be almost as dangerous to the pack as a firearm. His sharp ears picked up no whir or click. She didn’t take pictures but simply watched the den through the telephoto lens.
The beta lay in front of the small cave tolerating the playful nips and mock attacks by the pups. Michael counted them and froze. Two were missing. He counted again. Raising his nose, he sniffed the night breeze. He caught no hint of the missing wolves. One of the youngsters strayed and the female growled. When the pup didn’t respond, she shook off the others, pushed off the ground and trotted over to him. She nosed him back to the group and stood gazing around the woods. Her nostrils flared as she tested the wind. The female whined softly and honed in on his position. His scent would be familiar. She turned her head, now staring at the log the human hid behind. This time the wolf growled. She backed toward the den and when the pups didn’t respond, she whirled and nipped at them until she’d herded all of them into the small cave and ducked in after them. Her shadowed bulk remained visible to his eyes where she guarded the mouth of the den with silent menace.
The woman sighed softly and shifted position. His ears caught the brush of skin against canvas as she put up her camera. Then he heard something else. Men. Three of them. And they carried guns, the stench of gunpowder and oil unmistakable. The woman heard them too. She retrieved her camera and hunkered deeper.
Torn, Michael decided the woman was the least danger to the den. He padded off, circling around to follow the men.
“Are you sure the pack is gone?” The voice sounded high and squeaky.
“Yeah.” Gruff, this voice sounded more snarl than anything.
“The pups are old enough they should be alone. We’re supposed to get at least three more if we can’t grab all of them.” Excitement tinged the third voice.
“You two’ll have to haul ’em. I need my hands free to shoot.” The second man again. Michael knew who to hit first.
Before he could react, blinding pain hit him out of nowhere. A sharp crack reverberated. His brain scrambled to name the sound. Gunshot. He howled to alert the female and call the pack, then darted deeper into the woods. Excited shouts followed the shot, along with heavy boots pounding behind him. A burning throb ate through his chest and blood slicked his left leg. The heavy caliber bullet had torn through muscle but missed anything vital like his lungs or heart. If he could lead the hunter away, then maybe the female could keep the pups safe until the pack returned.
Howls filled the night and a savage grin curled his lips. The pack was closer than he’d thought. He circled to the west, headed back toward his clothes and his own weapons. He might be wounded, but he was far from defenseless.
LIZ GRAHAM STIFLED her scream when the gunshot shattered the still night. Panicked, she watched the mouth of the small cave where the wolf had hidden the pups. Through the viewfinder of the special infrared camera, she could easily see the female guarding the den. Two men entered the small clearing, stumbling and sliding down the low embankment.
“Shit. There’s a full-grown wolf in there. How are we going to grab any of the pups?”
She needed to take pictures, to get evidence but the sound of her camera might carry and alert the thieves. Men. Criminals. She didn’t know what to call them.
The second man pulled out a pistol and pointed it toward the cave. His hand shook and he offered it to the other man. “Here. You shoot her.”
“Hell no. I didn’t sign on to shoot anything. We’re just supposed to nab some more little wolves and make sure they get to the lab.”
The wolf growled and the two men backed up. Liz knew what she needed to do. She could hear someone else crashing through the woods. It sounded like he was chasing something and was probably the hunter in the group. Neither of these guys were the outdoorsy type. They were science nerds. Like her. But where she wanted to protect the wolves, they were here to harm them. She’d bet a month’s salary—not that she made the big bucks working for the State of Wyoming—that these guys had stolen the two missing pups. Gripping her camera tighter, she crawled to the end of the log, prepared to confront them. If she used her flash, maybe she could blind them long enough to grab the gun or something.
A branch cracked beneath her. The men whirled. She clicked the button on her camera and the flash fired. She clicked again, her finger mashing the shutter button as fast as the flash recycled.
Another gunshot echoed in the woods. She screamed reflexively. Throwing caution to the wind, she scrambled down into the hollow and tackled the man with the gun. He fell backwards with an “oof” as her shoulder jammed into his solar plexus and drove the air from his lungs. The gun went flying.
The man yelped and cussed but scuttled away from her.
“Get the hell away from here!” She crab-walked backwards, putting herself between the two men and the mouth of the cave. “I’m going to the authorities. I have your pictures!” Her fingers crunched through leaves and encountered something hard and metal. The gun. She snatched it from the leaf litter and held it in front of her with both hands. Did it have a safety? Guns had safeties, right? Terrified they’d call her bluff, she stiffened her arms to hold the gun steady. “I know how to use this. Now get the hell away and don’t ever come back here!”
One man turned tail and ran, crashing into a tree trunk before he fought his way past to disappear behind the curtain of darkness. The second gaped at her before he scrambled to his feet and followed. Liz lowered the gun, shaking so hard she couldn’t hold it out any longer. Tears streaked her face, a combination of fear and anger. Inhaling deeply, she brushed the moisture off her cheeks with the back of her hand. And then she discovered she was in even deeper trouble. A large man with a scraggly beard and a very big rifle stood at the top of the embankment. She froze.
“You might scare them science sissies, little girl, but you don’t scare me. If I shoot you out here, ain’t nobody ever gonna find your body. The wolves’ll have a good dinner and the crows’ll eat anything that’s left.” He leered and walked toward her. “But we can sure have some fun before I slit your throat.” He fiddled with his belt buckle as he advanced.
Liz scrabbled backwards and then remembered she had a gun too. She lifted it. “Stay away from me!”
He laughed, a dark, ugly sound that turned her insides to liquid. “You ever shoot a pistol before, girlie?” His lips stretched into a parody of a smile. “Didn’t think so.” He stripped off his pack and dropped it. Holding his hands out to his sides, the rifle pointed away from her, he mocked her. “Here. I’ll even give you the perfect target. Go ahead and pull the trigger.”
She did. And nothing happened. She gasped and fresh tears pooled in her eyes.
“You think I’d be stupid enough to give them pussies real bullets?” He propped the rifle against his pack and advanced toward her.
Liz pulled the trigger again. And again. It clicked hollowly each time. She fumbled with it, looking for a safety button. Finding it, she moved the lever to the opposite direction, pointed the gun, and pulled the trigger again. Still nothing.
Just before the man reached her, something dark and furry leaped from the shadows behind her. A wolf! The animal snarled and attacked. Swearing, the man whirled, snatched up his pack and rifle. He used the butt of the weapon like a club as he slowly backed up the embankment in a controlled retreat. Howls, close enough to raise the hair on her arms, echoed the racket the man made while he thrashed through the underbrush and fired randomly. Shaking, she dropped the gun to the ground and wrapped her arms around her legs. She rested her forehead against her upraised knees and struggled to control her breathing. She gasped and shuddered every time she heard another gunshot.
“Pleasepleaseplease,” she whispered. “Don’t let him come back. And don’t let him hit any of the wolves.”
She sat for what seemed like an eternity before all man-made sounds ceased and normal forest sounds returned. The hair prickled on her arms again and she raised her head with utmost care. A ring of silent wolves, muzzles curled into snarls, circled her. Their teeth gleamed in the shifting moonlight. She swallowed hard and worked to control her trembles. The biggest wolf, the one she’d identified as the pack alpha advanced on her, his legs stiff and ears perked forward. Why had she turned loose of the gun? It didn’t have bullets, but she could have thrown it at him and maybe gotten back to her camera. Perhaps the flash would scare them off until she could retreat.
“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t eat me.”
“Wolves don’t eat humans. Usually.”
She jerked and raised her head. A man in a dark uniform stood just beyond the circle of wolves. Her mouth opened and she tried to form words but nothing came out. At least nothing coherent.
“You want to tell me where the missing pups are?”
She blinked, her jaw opening and closing but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her dry mouth. “I...they...” She swallowed and tried again. “Those men. They have them. And came after more. I...I have a photograph of them. I think.”
“You think?”
Why did he have to sound so amused? And how could he be standing there so casually with a pack of angry wolves at his feet. “Who are you?”
“I’m the one asking questions. Why are you here?”
“I’m Liz...Elizabeth Graham. Doctor Liz Graham. I’m a wildlife biologist with the State of Wyoming.”
“Really.” His voice sounded both wry and disbelieving.
“Really. I...I have ID in my backpack. I’ve been studying this pack. But tonight... Two of the pups were gone. I thought maybe they’d gotten ill and died, but neither was a runt.”
The alpha wolf growled again. She tucked her chin, blinked, but stared at the animal. “No offense. I know this is your litter, but there’s always a runt.” The words tumbled from her mouth without thought. Yeah, right. Like the wolf could understand her, but she’d always had the feeling wolves were far more cognizant than humans realized.
The man laughed and her gaze darted back to him. “Well there is.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t know anyone else had found the pack, but obviously they did.” Her bottom lip quivered and everything around her looked all swimmy like she had her eyes open underwater. Tears filled her eyes. Again. “Did I lead them here? Oh, god. Please, not that. Don’t let this be my fault.” She blinked hard to clear the moisture and then she noticed the dark stain on the man’s shirt. Blood? He was bleeding and the wolves ignored it? It couldn’t be blood. “Are...are you okay?”
“No. The asshole with the rifle shot me.”
She squeaked and surged to her feet, freezing when the alpha advanced on her, mouth open, canines gleaming, a growl rumbling in his chest. She held her breath.
“Stand very still,” the man ordered. He didn’t have to tell her twice.
He stepped through the ring of wolves, his hand dropping briefly to the head of the alpha. As he approached, she got a better look at him. Close-cropped black hair above piercing eyes that also appeared black. Dark-skinned with high cheekbones, a hawk nose, and a strong jaw, he towered over her. She resisted stepping backwards. She recognized the uniform now. Dark woodland camouflage pants and boots topped with an olive tan shirt with a U.S. Forestry Service patch. A forest ranger. She relaxed just a little.
“Give me your hand.”
She offered him her right hand without stopping to consider his order. His strong fingers closed around hers and she had the impression he could crush her more delicate bones if he wanted. With surprising gentleness, he gripped her hand as he scooped the gun off the ground and shoved it into his belt.
“Slow now. Stay with me.”
He led her toward the wolves with a soft tug and she followed, her heart rate spiking. He led her through the pack, pulled her up the incline, and snagged her camera strap as they reached the top. He passed it over wordlessly and she started to turn her head.
“Don’t. They’re watching. We need to grab your bag and keep moving.”
She nodded wordlessly and as they passed the hollow behind the tree fall, she dropped to one knee to grab her camera bag. He pulled her back to her feet and continued on through the woods, surefooted and swift. She almost had to run to keep up with his long-legged stride. Every time they came to a moonlit space, she glanced down at his side. The stain kept growing.
“You’re still bleeding.” The words came out between panting breaths.
“Is this where I say d’uh?”
“I recognize sarcasm when I hear it,” she muttered. And he didn’t even sound winded. That was so unfair. She wasn’t in bad shape. She hiked. She even jogged. Sometimes. She gritted her teeth and did her best to match his pace. The grip he maintained on her hand pulled her along in his wake. Her toe caught on a branch and she stumbled. He jerked her up and she collapsed against him. He grunted and winced at the contact.
“Look, you need a doctor. My car’s...” She trailed off as she planted both feet and stopped, looking around to get her bearings. “Uhm...Actually, I have no clue where it is from here.”
He smirked and nodded in the direction over her shoulder. “It’s about two miles that way. We’re closer to my place. And no, I don’t need a doctor. It’s a through-and-through wound. I just need to clean it out and stop the bleeding. I’ll be fine.” He gave her no time to protest, simply turned and towed her along as if she weighed no more than one of those tall, skinny fashion models. She almost giggled. That certainly didn’t describe her. At all. At five foot two in her bare feet and a body more suited to an Old Masters’ painting than the fashion runway, this was a totally new feeling for her.
Liz tripped again and the ranger tucked her closer to his side. “Can you see in the dark or something?”
“Or something.”
This guy was a man of very few words. And she’d be darned if she was going to whine or ask him to slow down. She soon caught sight of a light flickering through the trees. She let out a sigh of relief but a moment later, the ranger had her shoved up against the rough bark of a tree trunk.
When he spoke, she as much felt the words as heard them, he was so quiet. “Don’t move.”
His breath teased her ear as she found her nose buried against his chest. She inhaled sharply and shivered when his rich, warm scent filled her lungs. A combination of pine needles, wind coming off fresh snow, and beneath it all, a spicy musk that was all male, his fragrance did funny things to her insides. She closed her eyes and inhaled again but he’d disappeared. She froze except for the slight movement caused by craning her neck to peek around the tree trunk. A shadow moved between her and the cabin. She blinked. Had she actually seen anything or was the movement a stray cloud drifting across that grinning moon? Minutes passed but no matter how hard she strained to see, nothing else moved in the dark.
“Let’s go.”
The scream was out before she could clap her hands over her mouth to stifle it. She balled up her fist and struck out blindly. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” His chuckle teased her ear and her girly bits all noticed how close he was. And then he disappeared again.
“Coming?”
She muttered but she wasn’t sure if she was chastising him or her rebellious parts. She carefully picked her way across the uneven ground and then let out a little huff of air in relief as her feet discovered smooth grass and then a gravel path. She followed him up on the porch and waited as he unlocked the door.
Once inside, she glanced around—curious yet nervous. The main room looked comfortable enough with furniture designed for a man. The decorating was sparse, much like the man, now that she got a look at him in the soft light of a floor lamp.
“Have a seat. I’ll be back after I get cleaned up.” He gestured toward the couch and headed under the stairs toward what she figured was a bathroom. He shed his shirt as he went and she was treated to a glimpse of broad shoulders, a muscled back, and blood. She choked back a whimper. He paused at the door, turned, and tossed his shirt toward the kitchen sink. It missed but he ignored it, stepped into the bathroom, and shut the door behind him.
Despite feeling a little green around the gills, she turned a slow circle, partially to ignore the bloody clothing. Nothing of a personal nature hung on the walls. A few books occupied a battered, wooden bookcase and she wandered over to check them out. The first book she picked up surprised her. “The Art of War, by Sun Tzu.” She read the title aloud doing her best to disregard the bloody shirt on the floor. The shirt would stain if not rinsed out. Even with the queasiness dancing in her stomach, she felt compelled to help out somehow. He had saved her from the wolves after all. And the hunter. She slipped over to the door and pressed her ear to the wood but couldn’t hear a thing. She knocked timidly.
“Uhm...can I help with the bandage or anything?”
“I’m fine.”
His voice sounded muffled but she got the distinct impression he hovered just on the other side. What had seemed like a thick barrier of heavy wood now seemed a little too flimsy for comfort. She inhaled deeply to get her imagination under control and backed away. The shirt tangled around one of her feet and she stooped to pick it up. Holding it with two fingers she scurried to the sink and dropped it in. Turning on the cold faucet, she waited while water soaked the shirt. When the water no longer looked pink, she turned it off, picked up the shirt and twisted it between her hands to wring it out. She shook it a little and held up it. Two things happened simultaneously. The bathroom door opened and she realized there were no bullet holes in the shirt.
