Doe and the Wolf (Furry United Coalition, #5) (3 page)

He tried to speak, or at least let the creature know who he worked for and who to call for help. He croaked a feeble, “FUC.”

The timid creature recoiled and bounded back into the forest.

A groan left him as he realized he’d probably just tried to speak with a plain old woodland creature. It seemed his sense of smell was shot, along with his poor body. That didn’t bode well.

Half in, half out of the water, he managed to roll to his stomach and claw his way farther up the muddy embankment, a few inches of torture that left him panting.

Black spots danced before his eyes. He could feel the dark nirvana hovering over him, waiting to grab him in its embrace. He needed to fight it. Needed to...

The next time he woke, which surprised him greatly, he did so under a wooden slatted roof on a bed covered in a blanket, which smelled oddly enough of lilacs. He knew the scent because his mother liked to grow them when he was boy on the farm. He could still hear his father grumble about the darned things taking up valuable farmland space, but despite that, he allowed them just because they made his mother smile.

Do the lilacs mean I’m home?
No. Because home had white plaster ceilings, and the mincing steps approaching did not belong to his mother. Not to mention, his mother had never tied him to a bed.

What the hell is going on?
He pulled at his bonds, but the rope held him in a kinky, spread-eagle pose that he might have enjoyed more if he thought it meant pleasure. But, given the way his body ached, he doubted he’d gotten kidnapped by a gorgeous woman intent on seducing his body. Although, the soft tread of steps approaching did seem to indicate someone of the female persuasion.

Shutting his eyes, he tried to feign sleep, but whoever approached didn’t believe his sham, that or they were naturally nervous because they inched so slowly and tentatively he almost growled at them to hurry it up. When the feather-light touch came on his brow, he couldn’t help a bark of surprise though.

The woman took flight, and despite opening his eyes as quickly as possible, he caught only a fleeting glimpse of long brown hair trailing behind her as she fled the room.

But she couldn’t hide the sweet roundness of her ass or her scent.

A doe. A deer. A female deer. Everett couldn’t help a most wolfish grin. Of all the luck.
I’m alive, healing, and I think I just found one of the missing FUC fugitives
. Or, more accurately, she’d found him.

The day was looking up. As for his current predicament involving rope and the possibility he was in the hands of a serial killer?

Minor details. After all, he’d prevailed against the PIG Gang – Porcines in the Ghetto—beaten the Hood, and put Grandma Red—so named because of her penchant for spitting red cherry pits when she tortured her rivals—in shifter jail where she belonged. What did he have to fear from one little woman?

“Little doe, little doe,” he called. “Won’t you come in?”

Slender fingers curled around the doorframe, and big brown eyes peered in. “Will you promise not to eat me?”

“Oh, I’d love to
eat
you,” he said in a husky voice with a naughty wink that usually worked wonders with the ladies.

“Eep!” With a squeak, she ducked out of sight.

What the hell? Surely she didn’t take his words literally? Couldn’t she tell he flirted with her? When she didn’t reappear, he yelled, “Just kidding.”

Cautiously, she leaned back in, her expression that of a distrusting animal ready to bolt. “So you won’t make a meal out of me?”

Laughter barked forth from him. “I’m the one tied up, and you’re seriously asking me to promise you safety?”

“You’re a wolf.”

“That I am, little doe.”

“My mama told me about wolves.”

“May I ask what she said?”

“The only good wolf was a dead one.”

Hmm, seemed like he might have his work cut out for him trying to convince her otherwise. “And what do you think?”

“Actually, I was just wondering if what Grandma said was true.”

“Which was?”

“That wolf pelts make warm winter coats.”

“I’d have said we make better rugs.”

“Really? Why?” More of her face came into view as she asked, her pert nose sprinkled with freckles, her pink lips pursed.

Tasty looking. “There’s nothing better than lying atop a wolf in front of a roaring fire. Your fingers gripping my pelt as your sweating body rides me to a howling, fun conclusion.”

Those perfect lips rounded into an ‘O’ of shock almost as big as her saucer-sized eyes. “You have a dirty mouth!”

“All the better to do dirty things with.” He winked. His flirting didn’t have the desired effect. Instead of smiling at him and coming closer, put at ease by his playful banter, the doe scampered off, a distant door slamming shut.

Damn. I think I might have come on too strong.

D
awn leaned against the front door of the cabin, heart racing, blood heated, cheeks flushed and mind utterly shocked. It wasn’t that she’d never been propositioned before. She had, and she wasn’t a virgin, or a prude. Her time in the facility as a prisoner of the Mastermind meant she’d gotten more than her share of innuendos and offers, but crude attempts to get in her pants usually left her cold. Grossed out even.

I’m not that kind of girl.
Her mother had raised her to have respect for herself and her body. It was why the two times she’d gone all the way with a boy she’d made sure she felt something for them and them for her. They’d dated for a while before even reaching that stage.

So why was it, the banged-up, obviously delirious wolf tied to her bed, wearing only a sheet, made her want to throw caution to the wind and see if he
would
make a comfortable rug?

Even his salacious wink, which should have made her wrinkle her nose in disgust, had a most unexpected effect. Her lower regions tingled as she wondered if he could live up to the boast in his grin.

That man is dangerous.
Not just because he was a predator but also because he was obviously a rake such as she used to read about in her romance novels. Maybe he wasn’t a lord or a pirate, but there was no denying with those sideburns and sculpted body he could play the part of dashing bad boy.

Which is so not my type.
Especially since, given he was a FUC agent, he’d probably kill her in a second if he suspected who she was. Earlier she’d mistaken his uttered “fuck” for a curse, but now that she knew he was a shifter, it made more sense. It also was certainly no coincidence he’d ended up in these woods. Someone must have reported her, or one of the other experiments roaming these parts, to the agency. Her hiding place was compromised. She’d have to move on. Bummer.

First, though, she needed to go back inside, back to the wolf who was in the room where she kept her only knapsack and change of clothing. A part of her screamed ‘danger!’ and advised her to walk away, or even better, run. Going back in for her meager belongings wasn’t worth the risk. The wolf couldn’t be trusted, even if he was currently trussed like a chicken.

However, she refused to start over again with only the clothes on her back. Bad enough she’d had to beg for money to buy food when she’d first escaped and stolen garments just so she wouldn’t have to wander around naked. Paltry belongings or not, she would pack a bag and then head out.

What about the wolf, though?

She couldn’t set him free. He’d be on her like a pig in a trough full of scraps. Yet, if she left him tied, how long before someone found him? By the look of things, the ramshackle cottage hadn’t seen any summer visitors in a few seasons.

Gnawing on her lip, she marched back in and hoped for an answer. As it turned out, his first comment to her made it quite simple.

“L
ittle doe, little doe, where are you?” he chanted, as he heard a door open and her steps approaching.

“Right here. What do you want?”

You.
That was his first thought when he’d seen her in all her plump, timid glory. Attempting to look tough, his petite captor and savior stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed under her boobs, expression set in a stern glare, which she couldn’t hold as he laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“You. You do realize I’ve seen tougher looking chipmunks.”

“I’m stronger than I look,” she replied, her tone indignant.

He snickered as he said, “I’m sure you are.”

“Don’t make fun of me. I am not a weakling. Who do you think got you to this cabin, into this bed? By herself, I might add.”

Huh. He’d not thought of that. His brow wrinkled as he tried to recall if he’d seen or scented anyone else since he regained consciousness. “No way. You must have had help.”

She shook her head. “Nope. All me, so before you think I’m easy pickings, think again.” Stalking over to the only dresser in the room, she tugged open drawers and began to stuff a knapsack she pulled from under the bed.

“Going somewhere?”

She didn’t reply.

Someone was ticked. “Mind letting me go before you do?”

She snorted.

“Is that a no?”

Zipping her bag shut first, she took her time before turning and replying. “I’m not stupid enough to let a FUC agent, and a wolf, loose.”

“I’m not a FUC agent.”

“But you are a wolf.”

“Can’t deny that. It doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

She snorted again. “Like that’s going to happen.” She tugged the straps of her knapsack over her arms.

“So you’re just going to abandon me here?”

“I’m sure your friends will find you and free you, eventually.”

His friend, as in Tom? If he waited for that sloth to arrive, he’d probably die of starvation. “It’s just me, little doe.”

“I’m sure the agency will come looking for you when you don’t report in.”

“I already told you, I don’t work for FUC.” Not anymore.

She paused in the doorway. “And I think you’re lying. I heard you say their name when you first came to on the shore.”

Stupid acronym. Only another shapeshifter would mistake ‘fuck’ for FUC “I wasn’t talking about the agency, but more the situation.”

“Oh.”

“So now will you let me go?”

She didn’t hesitate this time. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you.”

Smart girl. “What if I promise to leave you alone?”

“Red Riding Hood might have fallen for that line, but I’ve seen the movies and read the books. No. I am sorry. I’m usually a very nice person, but circumstances have made it so that I have to think of myself first. Good luck escaping. If I can, I’ll send a ranger by to untie you.”

If she could? Everett could only watch in disbelief as the doe actually left. Listened as the door to the place slammed shut. Then nothing.

She’d abandoned him.

Damn. He’d have to get himself free on his own. No way was he waiting for rescue, not if he wanted to retain his man card. As a wolf and a member of the male species, he couldn’t have it bandied about that he was bested by a woman, and a woodland creature at that. His father would have a laughing fit and probably die of a coronary.

Nope. He needed to escape before anyone caught wind of his predicament. And when he caught up to her... He’d probably seduce her. Hey, it wasn’t every day he came across a hottie with a bodacious butt like hers who turned him down. He loved a challenge. As for his mission? Perhaps he was mistaken about her being one of the fugitives on his list. No way was she one of those things he hunted. Speaking of which, he really should get moving. He wouldn’t want his little doe to get caught by the murderous gecko. If anyone got to sink his teeth into that succulent flesh, it would be him.

Eyeing the rope that bound him, he quickly came to the conclusion that breaking it wasn’t going to happen, nor could he reach the tough nylon to gnaw through the knots. The bed, on the other hand, had definitely seen better days. Despite his arms and legs being tied, he could bounce his ass. Up and down he thrust, the harsh squeak of tired springs loud.

Mental note to self.
If I do drag her back for seduction, skip the bed; too noisy and distracting.
Not to mention, he didn’t think the bed would survive what he planned.

Bucking like a wild bronco on Viagra—minus the hard-on—Everett put the old-fashioned tarnished brass bed to work. It took a marathon session of cursing, hip thrusting, and yanking, but in the end, the bolts holding the headboard to the frame snapped. It didn’t set him free immediately, but did allow him to bring his bound wrists to his mouth where his teeth made quick work of the knots. A few more minutes to take care of his ankles and he was free, naked as the day he was born, still banged up, but no longer a tempting YouTube video for Tom if he arrived—or a buffet for the monster if he located Everett first.

Bounding off the collapsed mattress, Everett winced only a little as his still healing wounds reminded him of how he’d been snagged by the doe in the first place. She’d done a good job of cleaning him up, but in truth, he should thank his Lycan genes for the quick healing. Stretching out his cramped muscles, he took stock of his location as he stalked into the main area of the cabin. Rustic place with its plywood cupboards covered in tattered fabric, brown-stained sink, and mismatched plaid couch and chair. A great hiding spot for a fugitive, but not so great for a naked man in need of clothing.

It didn’t take him long to decide he needed to go after the doe as a wolf. If humans saw his shaggy beast, he’d attract attention, but not as much as a streaking male would. He shifted and immediately his senses sharpened. Smells became more distinct, his eyesight caught even the minutest details and the chill on his flesh disappeared as his thick fur kept him warm.

On four paws, he entered the dense forest. The female might have gotten a head start, but her trail was simple to follow, until she hit the creek.

He lost her scent at that point, not for lack of trying. Up and down the minor riverbed he traveled, nose in the air, trying to sniff where she’d emerged from the gurgling stream. But it was if she’d vanished into thin air. He located many tracks; skunk, raccoon, squirrel, moose even, but no doe.