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LIZ HUDDLED IN the old-fashioned claw-footed tub, shivering. Terrified, she jolted at each creak in the log house, at every sighing breath of wind outside. When a gunshot echoed outside, she clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her scream. She knew she shouldn’t trust the ranger. Michael. He was so...strange. Intense. His dark eyes had bored into her very soul, stripping her bare, his distrust evident in his expression. But at the same time, he’d seemed to protect her. When he tackled her on the porch, he’d twisted at the last minute to cushion her fall. She remembered his muffled oath, had felt him wince, and realized she’d landed on his injured side.
His first thought had been to protect her. And now he was out there with those terrible men. If men would steal wolf pups for nefarious reasons, what would keep them from killing Michael? He’d already been shot once.
She strained to listen. Were those more gunshots? The sounds were muted, a thud rather than a sharp report. A silencer? She choked back a nervous cry. All she knew about identifying the sound of gunshots and silencers came from some Foley artist adding sound effects to a movie. She didn’t do guns. Hated the things, in fact.
A sharp cra-ack sounded much too close for comfort and her heart leaped against her ribcage. She tried to breathe, to swallow around the fear clogging her throat. That was a gunshot. She was positive of it. What was going on out there? Was Michael all right? Should she call for help? But who would she call? She didn’t even know if Michael had a phone but surely he had a two-way radio or something. He had to have some way to contact the ranger station and the outside world, right?
She screwed up her courage and poked her head above the rim of the tub. Her eyes had adjusted to the dark and she could see vague shapes in the bathroom. Creeping over the edge, she crouched on the floor and held her breath, listening. All she heard was the pounding of her own pulse in her ears. She let out a slow puff of air and crept to the door. Pressing her ear against the smooth wood, she listened again, remembering to breathe softly this time. Something creaked out in the main room. A floorboard maybe? Liz fought the urge to hold her breath. A second creak echoed, above her head this time. Someone climbed the stairs to the sleeping loft. She pressed her knuckles to her mouth and abandoned the door. As frightened as any mouse, she scurried back to the tub and tumbled into it.
Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease. The plea reverberated in her head. No light shone under the door so maybe this room would stay hidden. Somebody now stomped around the room above her head. Whoever it was most likely didn’t belong here. She’d bet money Michael lived alone. He didn’t seem like the roomie type.
Why did she trust him? Just because he was sexier than all get out? He was definitely that. Tall, but to her every man was tall. Broad shoulders. Muscled chest and back. A butt that filled out those camouflage pants and thighs that flexed when he walked. Normally, she liked long hair on a guy. Hey, she was a Cali girl by birth, but his close-cropped hair fit his chiseled face. Chiseled? Okay, she’d been reading way too many romance novels. Since she wasn’t dating anyone, who could blame her? The scientific part of her brain understood she was focusing on trivial things to keep her fear at bay. The scared part of her didn’t care. She just wanted to get away and be safe.
Liz strained to listen, berating herself silently for acting like some dumb teen star in a slasher movie. The floor above her head creaked again and she followed the sound of heavy steps clomping down the stairs. Maybe it was Michael after all and he was just checking things out to make sure no one snuck in while he was gone. The door to the bathroom banged open and a flashlight blinded her. Or maybe not.
“Stand up.”
That disembodied voice demanded immediate compliance but she didn’t move. What could they do, shoot her? Then she remembered the sound of gunshots and shattered glass. Oh, yeah, they could do exactly that. She held up her hands so they’d see she was unarmed and then braced on the tub’s rim to steady her shaking knees as she stood.
“Who—”
“Shut up.” A hand appeared from behind the light, grabbed her arm and jerked her out of the tub. She scrambled to get her feet under her. The man didn’t give her much time. He marched her out of the bathroom. “Got her. What about that ranger?”
“Dead.”
Liz couldn’t breathe for a minute. Dead? How could Michael be dead? What was so important about those wolf pups that these men would kill a forest ranger over them? Did that mean they were going to kill her, too? Her mouth worked as she tried to form words but nothing coherent came out, only a scared whimper. Men moved through the darkness, heavy-footed and cursing as they bumped into furniture. The odor of alcohol filled her nose even as her ears identified the sound of something being poured. Booze? Or something more sinister? Were they going to burn down the cabin? It’d been a dry season. Burning the place would start a forest fire. All the animals... She flailed at her captor as another thought struck. Did they plan on leaving her in the house to burn with it? Fire. Her biggest nightmare. Her biggest fear.
Her fist connected with the man’s face and he grunted. When his grip loosened just enough, she jerked free. Liz collapsed but didn’t stop moving, crabbing on hands and feet for the door. She scooted through it, straightened as she jumped off the porch, and took off for the woods at a dead run. Her whole body tensed, waiting for a gunshot to her back. None came. Head down and running hard, she didn’t see the man until she ran into his solid form—and bounced off.
She landed on her butt, all the air knocked out of her lungs. Struggling to breathe, she stared up at the huge form she’d hit. And screamed. His meaty fist aimed at her face and she closed her eyes. The force of his punch snapped her head back. As she slipped into darkness, she wondered if he’d broken her neck.
LIZ GROANED BUT didn’t open her eyes. She hurt all over and a supernova exploded behind her closed lids. Her head pounded in time to her thudding pulse. Something small and cold nudged her cheek. She batted her hand in annoyance and connected with fur. A sharp whine, much too close to her ear, caused her to wince. This was the worst hangover ever. Even her hair hurt. Something warm and damp licked her cheek. She didn’t have a dog. She didn’t even have a goldfish. And she hadn’t been drinking!
Her memories rushed back and she sat bolt upright. Starbursts blinded her and the sound of little claws scrabbling away from her on a bare floor grated like chalk on a blackboard. She closed her eyes against the sparkles and crossed her legs Indian style to sit more comfortably. She propped her aching head in her palms as memories rushed in to fill the void. That sorry son of a bitch hit her. She winced as her exploring fingers found the lump and the tender flesh on her cheek.
Something whined again and when she opened her eyes this time, she could make out shapes in the room—not that there was much to see. The small space looked like it might have once been a laundry room. There was one door holding a tiny window at eye-level and another window high on the opposite wall. She couldn’t see much outside. It was still dark out. Beneath that window, plumbing stuck out of the wall along with a covered hole she thought might have once been a dryer vent. The linoleum on the floor looked old and scuffed.
She shared the space with two puppies. She blinked rapidly hoping to clear her vision before closing her eyes and with utmost care, rolled her neck. The muscles were stiff but the motion didn’t add to the pain throbbing in her head. In fact, it seemed to ease the ache a little. She opened her eyes to find the puppies sniffing her boots. The smaller one whined and climbed into her lap.
Liz choked back her gasp as the second pup hopped into her lap, too. These weren’t dogs. Wolf pups. These were the two missing wolf pups. They must have smelled the pack on her and that’s why they wanted to be close. She stroked them both, her mind whirling. People bred wolves in captivity to sell. While those pups commanded four figures, there’d be no market worth the hassle of live trapping babies in the wild. And why kidnap her? Her heart clutched for a moment as all the memories rushed back. Dead. Michael was dead. She wanted to throw up and had to swallow hard to keep the bile down. She couldn’t think about him. Not right now. She focused on the wolves instead. Why kill to steal the pups? None of this made sense.
The lock on the door clicked and the pups burrowed deeper into her lap. The little female tried to climb inside her shirt. She cuddled them and scrambled to the far corner. The door opened slowly. Two men stood there.
“See, told you she’d take care of ’em.” She recognized him as the man with the rifle from the wolf den.
“Just ’cause they’ll let her get close doesn’t mean they’ll eat.” She’d never seen the bigger man before but he scared her far more than the first.
“Hello. I’m right here. What is going on? Why am I here? You better let me go right now! If you do...I...I won’t tell anyone.”
“Too late for that, girlie.”
Girlie? Who the hell was the jerk calling girlie?
“You better hope those pups stay alive. That’s the only reason you’re not singing with the angels.”
“Ha. Shows what you know. I can’t sing.”
The jerk laughed. “You do have a mouth, girlie. I think we’ll have lots of fun.” His leer left little to her imagination and reminded her of his previous plans for her.
“Put your dick back in your pants.” The bigger man—the one who’d hit her—looked bored. “She’s not here for that. She’s here to look after the pups so we can deliver them alive and well. You clear on that, shithead?”
“Jeez, dude. Don’t take it personal.”
“Nothing in this job is personal.”
Liz could well believe that. The man’s expression never changed. He appeared cold, aloof, and in complete control of his emotions. Mercenary. The man was a mercenary. The cold lump in her chest confirmed her assessment.
A third man appeared carrying a plastic bag marked with a convenience store logo. “Water and dog food, boss.”
She stared at the bag, trying to guess its contents from the shapes. Dry dog food? That wouldn’t work. These pups were barely weaned, if at all. No wonder they wouldn’t eat. “Idiots.” The word slipped out.
The big man’s eyes narrowed. He could be angered. She needed to remember that. “Watch your mouth.”
“They can’t eat that,” she explained.
“There’s no such thing as wolf food.” The man with the bag sounded whiny.
“If they were old enough, they could eat dog food. But they aren’t. They’re still nursing. They need their mother.”
“I’m not about to go catch that wolf bitch so you’d better figure out some way to keep them alive and healthy until they can be delivered.”
Liz looked around the bare room. “I need milk. Preferably goat’s milk. Or canned milk as long as it doesn’t have sugar in it. And puppy chow. And canned dog food. And I need a stove or some way to heat the milk.”
“Make a list.”
She glanced up at the big man and calculated how far she could push. “I need to go to the grocery store to get the right stuff.” Her gaze slid over to the doofus with the sack and she waved a negligent hand. “Even spelling everything out, I doubt this guy could get it right.”
The guy in charge laughed and she breathed. So far so good. If she could get out in public, she wasn’t afraid to make a scene. The big man stared at her as if assessing her motives. He wasn’t as dumb as he looked and she’d do well to remember that.
“I’ll take you. And if you make one peep or try to get away, I’ll come straight back here and slit the wolves’ throats. And I’ll make you watch.”
Her eyes widened in horror and she choked on the bile churned up by her stomach. The pups whined and burrowed closer, sensing her fear.
“Get up and go wash your face. No need to call more attention than necessary.”
She moved the pups carefully and pushed off the floor. She wobbled a bit, overcome with dizziness. She braced a hand on the wall until her vision cleared. The pups clamored around her feet, shivering in their fear. She bent and gathered them into her arms. “Do you have a big box or something to put them in? Being out in the open like this is stressful for them. They need a place to nest.”
“Nest? They ain’t chickens.” The smaller man guffawed at his stupid joke.
“Shut up, dickhead. Go find a box.”
“And a blanket. Or a towel. Something soft.”
Liz didn’t move. She cuddled the pups and tried to stare down the big guard. Stupid on her part but she felt better for the attempt, like she was less a victim and might actually have a say in her future. The second man returned with a plastic tub deep enough to keep the pups inside. He tossed it her direction and she ducked instinctively. The thing bounced with a hollow thump and skittered on its side to the far wall. She righted it with her foot and lowered the pups into it.
Glancing over her shoulder she started to ask about a towel but stopped when she caught both men leering at her rear end. She stripped off her jacket instead and made a nest for the pups. They sniffed the material and then settled on it, curled in together. Liz straightened and faced her kidnappers. “You said something about me cleaning up?”
Thirty minutes later, when the big guard removed the blindfold he’d placed on her before leading her to the vehicle, she stood in a dimly-lit parking lot. The small grocery store looked mostly deserted, not that she could do anything overt anyway. With luck, there would be video cameras in the store. She planned to plaster her face on every single one of them. When she didn’t show up for work, somebody would come looking. Hopefully.
Big Dude fisted the back of her shirt and marched her toward the front door. “Not a word out of you, remember?”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything figuring now was not a good time to test his sincerity. She grabbed a shopping cart and with him shadowing her, started down the aisles, looking up as much as possible seeking security cameras. She dragged her feet, figuratively if not literally. The longer she was there, the better the chance someone would notice her battered face and Big Dude’s threatening manner.
By the time she was through shopping, her cart was full. Paper towels, puppy food—dry and canned, evaporated milk, baby bottles, and one carton of goat milk. She hoisted the items onto the conveyor at the checkout lane. The bored cashier never even looked up though Liz wasn’t sure she’d have the nerve to even mouth that she needed help. The total rang up and she reached into her back pocket for her debit card without a second thought. The clerk was about to take it from her when Big Dude knocked it out of her hand with a growl.
“Cash.”
Stunned, she stared at him for a long moment. “I-I don’t have any.”
He dug a bill out of his pocket and tossed it at the clerk. “Keep the change.” He glared at her, grabbed the bags and shoved two into her arms. “I’ll get your card.”
Her heart sank, albeit she felt a little relief. While she might have been traceable if it was left behind, she wasn’t completely sure that the clerk or a customer wouldn’t have jumped at the opportunity to drain her account.
The clerk unfolded the bill and held it out. “Yo, bro. This is only a fifty.”
She stared at the clerk like he’d grown a second head but he only had eyes for Big Dude. Big Dude stared at the clerk, too.
“Your total was $84.39.” Did the guy have a death wish?
“Tough shit.”
Big Dude grabbed her arm and hustled her out the door. She glanced back over her shoulder. The kid had grabbed the house intercom phone and was making an announcement into it. She cringed. She hadn’t done anything wrong. She’d kept her part of this devil’s bargain. Would he still kill the pups? He dragged her across the parking lot but she managed to stay on her feet and keep hold of the grocery bags. He all but threw her into the back seat of the SUV.
“Keep your fucking head down or else.”
She already knew what that or else entailed. She obeyed, crouching on the floorboards and bracing her body between the seats as he drove like a maniac. If she survived this ride, she was going to beat the crap out of the guy. Sure she was. A girl could dream, right?
