Mark of the Wolf (28 page)

Ron was trembling when he nodded. “Madeline
Baker, no longer a name, got it,” he stuttered.

“
Good.” The man shoved him back down
and Ron hit his chair hard, toppling over it until he landed on the
ground. He leapt up immediately, reaching for his gun. He whirled
around. It took a moment for his brain to process that the man had
left.

Ron slowly righted his chair and slumped into
it, still shaking, running a hand through his greasy hair. He had
seen a lot of thugs in this business, but something about this man
had been exceptionally terrifying. There had been a dangerous
energy about him, a wildness and an anger that was not to be messed
with. Opening up his phone book, Ron found the page with Owen
Baker's number on it and ripped it out, tearing it into tiny pieces
before throwing it in the trash. He would send other people after
Mr. Baker, but his daughter would be left alone.

The knife sticking in his table ensured
that.

Sneak peek! Check out the next book in the series,
Blood of the
Wolf.

Prologue: Blood of the Wolf

Available now on
Smashwords!

All she ever loved was destroyed in the
fire.

It was a miracle that she survived. Only
fourteen years old, her childhood had ended on that night. She
could still see the flashing gold flames that leapt into the sky,
licking at a sparkling backdrop of stars; she had been thrown on
her back by the blast, tumbling across wet grass to skid to a halt
at the base of a chain-link fence. Tears stung her eyes and her
hands shook, red and burned by the flash of heat.

She gazed, stunned, at the sight of the
burning bodies. Dozens of people were running from the apartment
complex, screaming and crying, sirens approaching in the
background... but no sound registered in her ears. The fire burst
from every floor of the building, and her parents were caught right
in the middle of the inferno. She watched a burning body tumble
from a window, black and cracked from the heat; she couldn't
identify it. She was unable to turn away.

It was a struggle to think but something inside of her took
control, and she knew she had to get out of there –
now.
The explosion in the
apartment hadn't been an accident. Jumping to her feet, Jaime
turned and stumbled away, forcing her legs to move until she was
flat out running. The air burned with smoke; each gasp was like
breathing fire. Her chest ached. She threw an arm over her mouth
and kept running, adrenaline pounding through her veins; her focus
narrowed, her strength increased, and she fled into the night. For
good reason, too – the explosion hadn't been an accident. Her
family had been targeted – murdered – and they would come for her
next.

Her shoes slammed on the sidewalk. She was a
good block away from her apartment complex when she suddenly heard
the rev of an engine behind her. Her heart jolted sickeningly; up
to that point she had been numb, as though running under water, but
the harsh sound of the motorcycle snapped her back to reality. They
were hunting her. They were chasing her down and planning on
killing her, just as brutally as they had murdered her pack.

“
Dammit!” she cursed as a motorcycle
rounded the corner behind her, skidding from the sharp turn. The
rider was clad completely in leather, his features hidden behind a
faceless black helmet. She couldn't make out anything more at the
rate they were moving; she glanced up at the smoky sky and caught a
glimpse of the moon. It was only half-full tonight. Changing into
her werewolf form would be draining, but perhaps she could still
use some of its power....

Jaime focused and felt something stir slowly
inside of her.... A sudden burst of energy flashed to her legs. Her
muscles bulged and coiled. She lunged forward, faster than an
Olympic runner, but she knew it was only a temporary fix. Under the
half-moon, her energy would soon tire.

A sudden howl rose up from behind her; her
pursuers had sensed her. She glanced over her shoulder, enough to
see that a pack of men had joined the motorcycle. They ran behind
it, keeping pace with the bike, but never daring to pass their
Alpha. They didn't carry any weapons because they didn't need them.
She knew they were taunting her; if they really wanted to catch
her, they could have by now... instead, they were enjoying the
chase.

Tears stung her eyes and Jaime bit her lip,
forcing herself to remain in control. She had to be smart about
this. As long as they hadn't caught her, there was still a chance
to get away. She glanced sideways and saw a narrow alley leading to
the next boulevard over. She took her chance, dodging down the
shadowy corridor and leaping over a large dumpster that blocked her
way. She forced herself to move faster and ignored the weariness in
her arms and legs. Hopefully the obstacle would slow them
down....

No such luck. She reached the next main
street and glanced behind her, just in time to catch a flash of
black paint as the bike leapt over the large trash bin, defying all
sense of gravity. It landed smoothly on the other side and she
could almost sense the Alpha smiling. The rest of the wolves
followed; they were closing in, chasing her like a wounded
deer.

“
Hey, little girl!” a voice called
from her other side, and she turned, terrified. Another section of
the pack was emptying into the street in front of her. They were
cornering her in, trying to ambush her. She took off running in the
opposite direction, narrowly dodging both groups and flying down
the sidewalk. She pounded down the street amidst silent buildings,
her fists clenched and sneakers scuffing.

I'm going to die,
she thought frantically, her panic slowly
consuming her. It was getting harder to breathe. The growing roar
of the motorcycle completely covered the now-distant whine of
sirens.
I'm
going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die....

“
Got you!” a voice grunted. Suddenly
an arm whipped out and grabbed her around the waist. Jaime shrieked
as she was yanked off of her feet and backwards, hauled through the
air until she found herself forced onto the front of the
motorcycle, its leather-clad rider harsh and unyielding. Her back
slammed against his chest, lean and hard beneath the padding of his
jacket. His arm was like steel and wrapped around her. She
screamed, writhing in his grasp and ripping at him.

“
Let me go, you bastard! Let me
the
fuck
go!” A string of curses left her mouth; she didn't care if
any of it made sense. The bike skidded slightly as it weaved along
the street, yet the rider did not lose control. She kicked, trying
to hit the handle bars, her long dark hair flying in her face. She
couldn't see anything but her rage was overwhelming. Her parents'
killer now held her in his firm, capable hands.

“
Shit,” the man grunted, his voice
deep; the cuss fit on his lips. “Sit still!”

“
Fuck off!” she shrieked, and wrestled
even harder. He slowed the bike down and tried to grab her around
the throat – she bit down firmly on his hand.

“
Dammit! Bitch!” This time when the
bike swerved, Jaime took her chance. Without hesitation, she flung
herself away from her captor despite the speed and the trailing
pack. Her side clipped the handlebars and then she was free, flying
through the air, slamming into the ground with more force than she
could have prepared for. With a soundless
oof
the air was knocked out of her and she
went skidding across the pavement, protecting her head with her
arms but scraping her entire right side. Pain lashed through her,
cutting through her ribs, burning over her skin as it ripped and
tore. She finally came to a stop when she hit the base of a brick
wall, and she lay there for a moment, broken and sobbing, pain
making it almost impossible to breathe. She couldn't move. For a
long moment, she couldn't even hear or see; she was sure something
was broken. She could taste blood in her mouth.

“
Fucking bitch, where'd she go?” She
heard voices shouting, then the distinct sound of frantic sniffing
as her pursuers tried to catch her scent. Thankfully she knew that
they were still close to her apartment and the smoke from the fire
was clogging the air. It muddled everything, helped by the already
thick scent of car oil and exhaust. They could smell her, but they
couldn't pin her down, thank god.

Wincing, she opened one eye; the other was
fast swelling up. Somehow she managed to land behind a fairly
concealing line of bushes. She peered out from them now, her head
close to the ground. Not twenty feet away, a group of about
two-dozen people were striding back and forth, their motions
high-strung and tense. A few more arrived on the scene as she
watched. She held her breath, trying not to make a sound, squinting
against the harsh glow of the streetlights. It had to be almost
midnight; she wondered what her chances were of them giving up. She
looked around carefully after a few more seconds, but couldn't find
any reasonable means of escape; if she made even the smallest move,
it would alert the hunters.

A pair of black boots strode onto the scene,
immediately drawing her attention, and the rest of the group
paused. She watched the boots cross the pavement and stand slightly
separate from the others.

“
Crazy bitch jumped off your bike,
Alpha,” a young man growled.

“
Quiet, Aiden,” that deep, rocky voice
answered. Definitely a man's voice. It sent cold chills down her
spine, and briefly she remembered the strong arm around her, the
crush of that rock-hard chest. The hair rose on the back of her
neck. Those boots began to walk again, this time slowly, casually
wandering around the area. Jaime bit her lip. She wanted to pant
and sob from the pain in her side and the blood she knew was
seeping through her shirt, but she couldn't make a sound. It would
mean her life.

Those boots wandered frighteningly close – so
close that she could see the scuff marks and rubber treads along
the bottom.

“
I know you can hear me.” That voice
again; there was something evil there, something deep and chilling.
“You're probably wondering why you are still alive... I assure you,
its not because you've escaped.”

Jaime winced as her ribs complained sharply;
the pain was getting worse by the second. Her adrenaline was slowly
wearing off as her body grew exhausted. The boots stepped
closer.

“
Your pack was going to be killed,
anyway,” the man said. “Your parents knew this, your Alpha knew
this... they just didn't know when. So they planned ahead. Your
parents and I made a deal.”

Right, and you killed them, you bastard!
she wanted to
scream. She was still having trouble with that concept: she was
alone now. She had nowhere to go, no place to run or hide. Alone.
They were all dead.

The man let out a bark of a laugh; it was rough and
taunting. “Do you know what that means, little wolf? I came here to
get you. You're
mine
.”

Jaime frowned and shook her head, trying to
clear it. What was he saying? It didn't make any sense; her parents
had given her to this man? They wouldn't! She wanted to scream, she
wanted to pound the ground in frustration. No!

And why would he even agree to spare her? He
was a ruthless killer. She wasn't any more valuable than the next
wolf – was she?

The whole night had been one horrible shock
after another. Jaime forced herself to stay focused, pressing
herself lower to the ground, bearing the pain and holding her
breath.

“
Your parents knew they were going to
die,” he spoke again, repeating the words that made her heart
pound. His tone was matter-of-fact. “They wanted to save their
precious baby girl.... You
do
realize what has happened tonight, don't you?” A pause.
“You're alone now. Be at my side and join my pack. Reclaim your
territory. It's for the best, my dear. It's what your parents
wanted.”

Suddenly Jaime felt something snap inside of
her. Her heart raced and abruptly she saw red. Rage rushed through
her, pure and clean, washing away her pain and weakness. She felt
her canine teeth lengthen and sharpen, pricking into her tongue;
suddenly, all she could think about was sinking her teeth into his
neck. She wanted to attack him, to rip and tear at him, to taste
his blood.

“
Just think, kid,” another step in her
direction. “What have you left to lose?”

“
You fucking bastard!” The roar ripped
from her throat. She launched herself from the bushes, feeling her
teeth lengthen in her mouth, her eyes flashing with pure rage. She
flew through the air, one hand outstretched and nails lengthened –
she was going to claw the fucker. She was going to gash his eyes
out, rip him open, feel the flesh beneath her
fingers....

He caught her mid-air, easily. Hand
outstretched, he somehow bypassed her sharpened nails and snatched
her by the throat, gripping her firmly with a rough laugh. She
shrieked in anger, thrashing and biting, clawing at him, trying to
hurt him in any way possible – but he continued to hold her by the
neck, hefting her up into the air until her feet couldn't even
touch the ground. She was choking; she couldn't breathe. Fuck, she
couldn't breathe!