Winter’s Wolf (27 page)

He listened to the steady thump of Winter’s heart. “You make a pretty persuasive case.” He pulled back. “What can I do to get you out of these chains?” He picked up a few links. Surprisingly light.

“They’re made of a metal werewolves have trouble breaking.”

“Don’t tell me it’s silver.”

“Sorry. Some myths are based on fact.”

“Jesus, I’m living in a fairy tale.” Matt worked two-handed on the chains until all the strands were off Winter’s body parts except the one around his neck. Winter tugged, but it didn’t release. “Freedman says this loop is too small for my wolf to escape. Let’s hope he’s wrong.”

Matt tried not to hyperventilate. “Do you think you can get out of it?”

“We’ll have to see. If I don’t, go into the other room, break the window, and climb out.”

“I told you, no man will fit through there.”

“But a wolf will.”

Matt swallowed hard. This couldn’t be happening.

“Before I shift, I want you to take the blood from this body. It’s easier than getting a mouth full of fur.”

“How will I get to the blood?”

He snapped a fuzzy finger forward with a thick claw.

Matt jumped. “Sorry, tough to get used to. Those claws aren’t too sharp. You should have been a cat shifter.”

“That would be Cole’s husband, Paris.”

“Shit, I was kidding.”

“I’m not.”

Matt shook his head as Winter dragged the thick claw over his opposite forearm and an ooze of dark blood seeped out. “Lick it.”

“Ooh God.” Faced with the reality, his insides rebelled.

“Do it.”

Taking a deep breath, Matt leaned down and quickly swiped his tongue along the line of blood. Sweet, warm, and sharp like licking a metal implement. If he just didn’t think about what it was, it wouldn’t gross him out, but—“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I feel like someone gave me a shot of adrenaline.”

“Good? Bad?”

“Scary but good.”

Winter’s arm had already healed. He dug the claw in deeper. “Take more.”

Matt licked with more enthusiasm. This time, no delay. His heart beat like a jackhammer, his skin tingled, and suddenly he could see Winter’s features more clearly. “Wow.” As an interesting side effect, his cock filled and lengthened. “This feels amazing.”

“Keep going. We need to get enough into you to trigger the change. But first, take off your clothes or you’ll ruin them.”

“What? There’s no werewolf J. Crew?”

“Shifting khakis? Not yet.”

Matt stripped, which clearly revealed his full upright position. He looked down. “Seems like at least one of my body parts is ready to shift.”

Winter laughed but produced more blood, and Matt drank it down. As his heart beat faster and faster, his terror rose. “Jesus, I don’t know if I can survive this. My heart wants to leave my chest.”

“Don’t worry; it’s normal.”

“Uh, normal is not my first choice of words, but okay, I’ll keep going.” He licked some more. Hard to admit, but he actually kind of liked it—which had to be strange. More blood, and his skin felt too tight for his body, his muscles ached, and his teeth hurt. Something was trapped inside him, and it couldn’t get out. He paced to the other side of the room and started back like a caged animal.

“Take more, now.” Blood dripped down Winter’s white skin. God! He actually wanted it.

Matt swooped to Winter’s side, grabbed his arm, and sucked and sucked. The metallic bite slid down his throat like mother’s milk. Heat streamed up his back, and burning acid rose like groundwater under his skin. “Ow.”

“What?”

“Burns.”

“Good. That’s it. Take more.”

Fire!
“Shit! You do this on purpose?”

“It’s a part of my existence. You’ll love being a wolf. Take more.”

Matt sucked hard. The metallic taste had become ambrosia when he wasn’t looking. Winter’s blood. Winter inside him. A part of existence.
Pain. Burn. Shit.
Scared!

Winter grabbed Matt’s arm with his free hand. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything bad happen to you. Drink. Be what you were meant to be.”

“Oh God!” Flaming liquid poured down his throat like someone had opened Winter’s vein. His muscles contracted, then expanded. Bone. Breaking. “Hurts. It hurts.”

“Yes. It’s supposed to. Don’t stop.”

Stop? Some giant, cosmic paw was stepping on him and squashing him into a new shape. But would he survive?
Heat. Fire! Pain!

Oh! Oh!

Every angle and corner of the room.
Visible.

A mouse. Smells from the corner. Winter’s scent like joy and pleasure.

He shook and fur rippled over his body.

Winter laughed. “Perfect. You’re beautiful.”

Matt—the pale brown wolf—tried to answer, and a low growling sound rumbled from his chest. Paws where feet had been. He woofed.

W
INTER
GAZED
at the medium-sized wolf standing in front of him. Powers, Matt had done it. He’d shifted. “You’re amazing. I’m so proud of you.” The wolf cocked his head. “Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to shift and hope I can get out of these chains.” One helluva hope. “We’ll go into the room and I’ll stand on your back to break the window. Then you’ll stand on me and crawl out. I’ll follow.”

Matt the wolf growled low. Yeah, even in wolf form he knew that the “I’ll follow” part was the hard bit. Winter didn’t doubt his wolf could jump eight feet without help, but he was a lot bigger wolf than Matt. The chances he wouldn’t fit through the small opening were high. But Matt would be out and that’s what mattered. “Here goes. Keep your paws crossed.”

Winter took a deep breath and, as he let it out, he allowed the acid burn of the shift energy to fill the void. Memories of his first shift felt like yesterday—excited, terrified, painful, and exhilarated all at once. Like Matt.

Bones reordered, fur flowed. Wolf.

The great white wolf snarled at the chain prison holding his head.
No. Bad. Stop. No fear.
He took a breath and let it out, moving his long, narrow head from side to side. The chain, fit to a human neck, slid.

The brown wolf stepped up beside him.
Good wolf.
He pressed his muzzle against the chain until his teeth slipped over it. The white wolf moved his neck again and, with the brown holding the chain, he slid part way out. The brown wolf pulled on the chain as the white wolf pointed his muzzle toward the ceiling and felt the hold give. His head slid from the noose.
Free.
The chain clattered back against the concrete wall.

The white wolf stepped forward and nuzzled the brown, then turned and trotted into the small room, hearing the click of the claws of the brown wolf behind him. The white looked up.
High. Small.

The brown wolf stepped up against the wall, and the white climbed on his back, then stretched to the narrow window. With a powerful leap, he thrust his shoulder against the glass.
Crack.
Again, and the window shattered. With his paw, he broke the glass and pushed some of the jagged edges out, and then he jumped down and nudged the brown aside.

The white wolf stood against the wall, providing a much higher platform for the brown to launch from. With his scratchy tongue, the brown licked the white wolf’s face and whimpered. The white licked him back, then pushed him with his nose. The brown stalked a few paces away, bounded twice, hit the white’s back, and soared to the small windowsill, where his head pushed through the opening. Holding with his forepaws and scrambling with his rear, he got purchase on the rough walls and dragged himself through. The white heard his yelp of pain and watched his tail flip as his body disappeared through the window.

The white looked up.
Good free.
Wolf jump now. Small.
Too small. He shook his head, backed to the far wall, and ran. Powerful hindquarters pushed him up to the window easily, and he caught hold with his front legs, but the challenge was obvious. With side-to-side movement, he pushed his head into the fresh air of the outdoors. The brown wolf stood waiting.
No. Should run.
The white growled and rumbled, but the brown didn’t move.

The big white scrambled more with his hind legs and pushed his shoulders hard against the opening. The jagged glass scraped against his thick coat. He pushed farther.
Too tight.
He shook his head. He started to pull his head back, but the brown grabbed his ear in his jaws and pulled. The white yelped and growled, but the brown wouldn’t let go.
Pain. Hurt.

The smaller wolf pulled and tore. The white writhed and twisted, trying to get his ear out of the other’s jaws. The glass cut into his skin.
More hurt!
He moaned and whimpered, but the brown wouldn’t release. Growling relentlessly, the brown wolf just kept pulling. The white flipped onto his back, head facing the stars, and tore his ear free, but the brown grabbed his other ear and dragged him another few inches until, with a huge heave that sent pain flashing through his body, his shoulders popped through the window opening and his thick chest followed. The brown let go and stepped back as the white wriggled on the ground, releasing his rear end.
Free.
He leaped to his feet, blood staining his fur and his ear, and started to run. The brown fell in beside him, leaping like a puppy.

Good wolf. Good wolf. Love.

The brown ran a few steps ahead, woofing, and the white followed him—straight to Matt’s car, hidden in the trees two blocks from the marshal’s office.

Escape!

The brown threw his head back and opened his mouth. The white leaped on him.
No howl. Not safe.
But he nuzzled his neck because he wanted to howl too.

T
HIS
WASN
’
T
going to be pretty. Winter knocked on the door to Matt’s townhome.

The door opened immediately, Rita standing on the other side with wide eyes and Buster sitting on the floor beside her. She looked down at Winter’s bare legs and feet and her eyes got wider. Matt’s trench coat hardly reached Winter’s knees and left a gaping space on his bare chest. The coat was all Matt had in the car. She looked up at Winter’s eyes quickly. “Uh, Matt’s not here.”

“I know.”
Damn. Wrong answer.

She frowned. “Then what can I do for you?”

“Actually, I need to talk to Jason.”

She crossed her arms. Despite the hundred pounds he had on her, that expression said
No way are you getting in here.

“Winter, is that you?” Jason’s voice came from the living room.

Winter peered over Rita’s head. Mr. Partridge looked, if not robust, at least a hell of a lot better than he had the last time Winter had seen him. “Yes, sir. I need to talk to you and Rita.”

“Well, come in. Don’t stand out there.”

Rita stepped aside, but not with enthusiasm. Buster backed up and curled into a ball in the corner. Winter trod barefoot into the living room.

“Well, hell, son, what happened to you?” Jason stood in the middle of the floor, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt.

“Truth, sir? I got set on by some bad guys and ended up with no clothes.”

“Bad guys? You serious?”

“Yes. Matt was with me. This is his coat.”

Jason stepped forward and took Winter’s arm. “Is Matt okay? Did they hurt him?”

“No, sir. He’s fine. He sent me to get you.”

Rita was all over that. “What do you mean ‘get’?”

He looked at Rita and poured sincerity into his expression. “The fact is, these bad guys could be a threat to Jason if they come here.”

Jason frowned. “Does this have something to do with the drug case Matty’s been working on?”

“Yes, sir. At this point, Matt and I know too much, and these drug cartel people are likely to use anyone important to us as leverage. Matt sent me to get you and take you to my father, then we’ll find a place for us all to hole up.”

“Don’t much like running from trouble.”

Winter grinned. “I can tell where Matt gets his courage. But there are a lot of them, and we need to consolidate our forces.”

Rita was not caught up in the romance of the moment. “Why didn’t Matt come himself if he’s okay as you say?”

“He had to do some FBI stuff.” Winter kept his gaze steady. “What I need is for you to help Jason pack a small bag with essentials. If there are any medications he has to have, include those. I’ll get some stuff for Matt and try to find something of his to fit me. We need to hurry. By daylight, the bad guys will be on to us.” He walked straight back to Matt’s room and pulled a sports bag from his closet. He heard Jason go into his bedroom and Rita follow. Okay, at least she’d help, even if she wasn’t convinced.

He found a couple pairs of jeans, some sturdy hiking boots, long-sleeved sweaters and shirts, socks, and toiletries for Matt. He didn’t bother with underwear. It just got in a werewolf’s way. A pair of sweatpants in a large size managed to cover his own bottom half with only an extra inch or two of ankle showing. Jason walked in carrying some sneakers. “Try these. I have bigger feet than Matty.”

“Thanks.” He tried to squeeze into them but no go.

“Wait. I’ve got some flip-flops that were always too large.” Jason ran for those while Winter zipped up the bag. They met in the hall. The flip-flops worked with only his heel sticking over the back. Jason laughed. “Those are some feet you got there.”

“Giant paws.”

Jason glanced up sharply, and Winter grinned. He walked into the living room, where Rita had placed a backpack stretching at the seams. She shook her head. “I don’t like this. Jason is feeling better, but he can easily overdo it.”

“We’ll watch out for him. Matt asked that you please take care of Buster until he and Jason get home. Is that possible?”

“Of course.”

“It’s probably better if you take the dog home with you. I wouldn’t want these guys to show up here looking for Matt and find you.”