Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 (2 page)

She’d never fired a gun before. Maybe it was time to change that. If she was going to live so far outside of town she needed to be able to protect herself. The next time she went into town, she would ask the local sheriff what permits she needed and if there was somewhere she could practice.

Gwen stared down at her hands and gave a gurgle of laughter. She was acting like an idiot, standing in her coat in the middle of her living room holding a shotgun. And all because a man she didn’t even know had fed her some crazy story about werewolves.

“Get a grip, Jones.” She set the weapon aside, being careful the safety was on. The best thing to do was put it back on its rack, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do that yet. She pulled off her coat and hung it up before digging out the flash drive and mini recorder.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.” She tossed the small red drive into the air and caught it as she walked across the room to her work area. She’d jammed a desk into the corner of the dining area to create an office space. It was by a window and she loved the view of the woods beyond. Now it was pitch black, nothing but a sea of darkness.

She tugged the drapes closed.

The computer was only sleeping, so it came back to life quickly. She set the recorder aside to examine later. Maybe something Hector had said would spark an idea for an article, although she rather thought the whole conversation was a write-off.

She inserted the flash drive and clicked on the first file when they appeared on the screen. Just as she’d suspected, a picture of a wolf popped up. The next one was similar. There was also a rambling letter from Hector giving names to the wolves. “Louis and Jacque LaForge. That sounds French, maybe Cajun.”

Gwen closed the letter and almost shut down the entire thing. There was a can of cocoa sitting in the kitchen cupboard calling her name. She could deal with this tomorrow. She
should
deal with this tomorrow in the light of day. But curiosity won out in the end and she clicked on the next file, which had more photos in it.

The cursor settled over the first icon and she swore as she gave in to temptation and clicked. She gasped and sat back in her chair when a picture of a half-naked man appeared. On closer inspection she could see sharp fangs coming from his elongated jaw and the razor-like talons on the ends of his fingers.

“Right. Obviously Photoshop.” But the closer she looked the less she thought so. “Someone spent a lot of money on those fake fangs and claws. Either that or they know a damn fine special-effects makeup artist.” Either way, she was done for the night with Hector Canton and his werewolves.

Not that it was all bad. She couldn’t use the pictures because she didn’t have permission and didn’t want to end up getting sued, but she could certainly spin a few stories for some of her tabloid customers. All in all, the night wasn’t a total bust.

Time to break out the hot chocolate and her book.

A hard, heavy pounding shook the front door, jolting her out of her chair. She didn’t waste any time running for the shotgun. Had Hector followed her home? Maybe he was crazy? She knew better than to break her rule about meeting in public. Why had she made an exception tonight? Too late to be asking that question now.

She thumbed the safety off. Her palms were damp and shaky, but she swallowed back her fear. How hard could it be to point and shoot? It was like a camera. This close she couldn’t miss.

The knock came again, this time not quite as loud. “Ms. Jones?” The voice was low and deep, definitely male.

Relief hit her hard and fast. Maybe it was one of the local deputies. They often stopped by to check on her, mostly because she was new to the area, but also because she was a single woman. On her first trip into town, Margie at the grocery store had assured her she’d have all the male attention she wanted. Single women were rare in these parts. Most women were either married, too old or too young. The rest of them left for the bigger cities as soon as they were able. A single young woman was cause for talk in town.

Still, she wasn’t about to be stupid. She’d seen too many horror movies where the dumb blonde gets herself killed by not being careful. She might be blonde but she wasn’t stupid.

“Who is it?”

“Ma’am, I’d like to talk to you if I can. It’s about Hector Canton.”

As tempting as it was, she wasn’t about to open her door to a total stranger. “Come back in the morning.” She glanced at the old cuckoo clock hanging on the wall. It was just past eight but, as dark as it was outside, it might as well have been the dead of night.

“It will only take a minute. I’ll stay out here on the porch.”

She snorted, like she was stupid enough to fall for that. Gwen backed away from the front door and headed toward the phone in the kitchen. Out here, cell-phone service was spotty, but her great aunt had a land line that Gwen had kept when she moved in. No way did she want to be caught without phone service. She’d call the sheriff’s office and have them come talk to the man.

There was no noise behind her, simply a stirring of the air, but Gwen knew she was no longer alone. She whirled around, her finger tightening on the trigger. The shotgun fired just as a male hand pushed the barrel up and out of the way. The bullet harmlessly buried itself in the wooden ceiling.

Gwen screamed as the weapon was torn from her hands and tossed aside. The front door was kicked in behind her, bouncing off the wall. She didn’t know where to look. There was a stranger behind her and another one in front of her.

She lunged for the kitchen counter and the knife block. She needed something to defend herself with. Anything. One of them swore and leapt toward her. Large fingers tightened around hers, the pressure making it impossible for her to draw the large butcher knife from the block.

“Relax,
chère
. Shhh.” His breath was hot on her neck and his hand practically swallowed hers whole.

She started to shake. Would they hurt her? Rape her? She couldn’t think about the possibilities. She had to fight back. Her muscles, immobilized by fright only seconds before, came back under her control. She threw her head back hard and fast and connected with his face.

Her captor howled in pain, sending an icy-cold shiver racing down her spine. It sounded too much like the dogs she’d heard earlier.

Massive arms wrapped around her torso and pulled her away from her only source of weapons. “
Dieu
. There was no need for you to do that,
chère
.”

She still couldn’t see the man holding her but the one in front of her was hard to miss. He was huge, probably around six-four, his brown shaggy hair hanging around his massive shoulders. His golden-brown eyes stared at her and his full lips were drawn into a thin line of displeasure.

Shit.
She was in deep trouble. She recognized him from the picture she’d seen only moments before. Her only option was to try to brazen her way out of this situation.

She cocked her eyebrow at him and inclined her head. “You’re either Louis or Jacque LaForge. I’m not sure which.” She had a brief moment of pleasure when she noted the surprise in his eyes. Then they went flat, and the expression in them scared her spitless.

Chapter Two

Jacque LaForge stared at the tempting female his brother currently held subdued in his arms. Louis’s nose had taken quite a hit, but thankfully it didn’t look broken. Not that it mattered. They were both quick healers and the bleeding had already stopped.

When he’d heard the shotgun blast, his only thought had been of reaching his brother. Damn Hector Canton and his big mouth. They’d stopped him long enough to give him his one and only warning and hopefully put enough fear in him to keep his mouth shut. Then they’d headed to the woman’s home to find out how much she knew.

Hector was obsessed with werewolves and had made quite a bit of trouble for them. But their cousin, Armand, was already doing damage control. The man was a computer whiz, able to hack any system. A doctor’s file here and there questioning the man’s sanity, a few bogus reports filed with police and Hector would be in for a stay in a psychiatric hospital if he didn’t leave them alone. This was his only warning, and Armand had punctuated it with a more physical threat. If Hector didn’t cease and desist, they’d bury him. Literally. There was nowhere he could hide where they couldn’t find him.

Jacque didn’t want to hurt Hector, who was harmless enough in his own way, but no way would he allow anyone to threaten his family’s safety. He’d kill him if he had to and wouldn’t lose a moment of sleep over it. By the time they’d finished questioning Hector, he’d spilled every detail he knew about Gwendolyn, which wasn’t much. Just where she lived and the fact that she was single.

The name was old-fashioned and didn’t quite suit her at all. She wasn’t really a Gwen either. The name conjured a picture of a cool business executive. The woman in front of him was much more interesting.

She was wearing faded jeans that were slightly frayed at the ends and knees and a plain blue long-sleeved shirt. Nothing fancy, but she wore it well. While the cotton shirt was molded to a pair of first-class breasts, the tight denim showcased a pair of long, shapely legs and a mouth-watering ass that he was more than tempted to take a bite out of. Her blonde hair was cut short but layered, giving her a tousled, just-got-out-of-bed look.

His cock responded on cue. He certainly wouldn’t mind getting Gwen into bed and knew his brother would be thinking the exact same thing. He frowned as Louis sniffed her hair and rubbed his nose over her neck.

Jacque growled low in his throat and Louis glared at him but stopped sniffing Gwen. Jacque was thankful, because his own control was tenuous at the moment. Usually he had perfect command of his body and hormones, but the moon was nearly full and there was a sexy female right in front of him. All his senses were on high alert.

But she was obviously not feeling the same way. Right now she was spitting mad and scared. The stench of her fear burned his nostrils. He didn’t like it. He wanted to smell her sweet arousal, not fear.

“I’m Jacque LaForge. My brother, Louis, is holding you.”

“Please to meet you.” Louis rocked her slightly from side-to-side, a sort of full-body handshake.

Jacque wanted to smack his brother up the back of his head. Instead, he focused on Gwen, wanting to calm her immediate fears. “We mean you no harm.”

“Could have fooled me.” Her head jerked toward her front door.

“You’ll have to forgive me,
chère
. I heard the shotgun go off and got worried about my little brother.” Louis snorted but thankfully kept his mouth shut. Jacque knew how much he hated being referred to in that manner. The bastard should be thankful Jacque hadn’t called him a young pup after the way Gwen had caught him off-guard and smashed his nose.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this as well.” He walked to her kitchen phone and yanked out the cord, snapping off the plastic end. Her purse was sitting on the end of the counter and he reached for it.

“Hey, don’t touch that.” Jacque ignored her protests and dug through the bag. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he turned to her and frowned. “Where’s your cell phone?”

“Don’t have one,” she lied.

He frowned and looked around the room, his gaze falling on her coat. She swore as he strode to it and rummaged through the pockets until he found her phone. He dropped it to the floor and ground it beneath the heel of his boot.

“Louis is going to let you go now.” Jacque inclined his head toward his brother as he walked back toward them. “We just want to talk. If you run, we’ll catch you, so don’t even try it.”

Louis slowly released her and stepped back to give her some breathing room. They both tensed, waiting for her to bolt.

“If you’re trying to put me at ease, you’re not succeeding.”

Her acerbic tone almost made him smile. There was something about Gwen that called to Jacque. He sniffed and caught a whiff of her perfume, not a synthetic kind, but the natural one that was unique to her. With her fear fading slightly, he was more able to smell her. He inhaled deeply, wanting to take her into his lungs so he’d always recognize her particular scent.

The combination of salty skin, lavender soap and laundry detergent filled his nostrils and seeped into every cell in his body. Beneath it all was the sweet scent of woman, of Gwendolyn Jones.

Jacque stiffened and every molecule in his body surged to high alert. His senses flared and he sniffed again. His wolf howled inside him, dominant and purpose driven. His fangs dropped and his jaw elongated. The urge to bite her was overwhelming. His cock lengthened as the mating heat kicked in, overriding almost all other senses and thoughts. Gwen’s sweet scent twined around his body, filling him, driving him to the very brink of sanity.

This couldn’t be happening. Not here. Not now.

How in the hell had he found his mate in the middle of this fucked-up situation?

Gwen screamed when his face began to contort and change, but he barely heard her. His total focus was on his brother. Louis sniffed her again. As Jacque watched, his brother’s fangs dropped, his eyes began to glow and he growled.

Louis looked at him and Jacque could see the same disbelief mirrored in his brother’s eyes.

Fuck, they were in big trouble. While any virile male werewolf would be sexually drawn to an attractive woman, it was extremely rare for two wolves to have the potential to mate with the same woman. It did happen every now and again, and almost always to brothers. Their only choices were for one of them to kill the other or for one of them to step aside. And since he wasn’t about to kill his brother any more than his brother would kill him, there was really only one solution.