Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1 (3 page)

BOOK: Wolf at the Door: Salvation Pack, Book 1
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Because as much as he loved his brother, he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by. Gwen was a priceless gift, one he’d never expected to receive. He’d just have to make both of them understand that she belonged with him.

 

Gwen shook her head, denying what was right in front of her. Her high-pitched scream was cut off when Louis wrapped his arms around her middle again and squeezed the air from her lungs. She was sweating, her cotton shirt clinging to her torso. Her heart was racing like a runaway freight train and she felt slightly lightheaded. This couldn’t be happening. Jacque LaForge was not morphing into some kind of wolf-human hybrid in front of her very eyes. It was impossible.

Yet her eyes told a different story. His jaw contorted and lengthened and a set of very large, sharp fangs dropped down from his gums. She had to be hallucinating. “How did you drug me?” She had to keep talking even though the world around her was shifting and changing in a way she didn’t understand.

“We didn’t.” The voice behind her was little more than a growl. She tilted her head back and was shocked anew when she got a good look at the creature holding her. Crap, he looked just like his brother, doing the fang thing. This was like something out of one of the stories she’d written. Only her work was total nonfiction, drawn from the minds of folks who pushed over the line of reality and into fantasy.

Maybe she’d written one story too many and had finally succumbed to madness.

This was so not happening. Not when things in her life were finally falling into place. Not when she finally had time to work on her dream project—a novel. She wasn’t having it.

Gwen drew back her foot and kicked Louis in the kneecap with her heel. She wished she were wearing more substantial footwear, heavy-soled boots instead of sneakers. That would do a lot more damage. The action did surprise him enough that he let her go. Or maybe he let go because she’d stopped screaming. Either way, she didn’t care as long as she was free.

She backed away from both men and put her shoulders against the wall so neither of them could sneak up on her. While both men continued to stare at her, their faces contorted again, this time going back to normal. She blinked, not trusting anything she saw with her own two eyes. How could she? Werewolves didn’t exist. Not in reality. There had to be some trick to what they were doing.

Her legs shook but she stiffened her knees. She could not show weakness. That was the first rule of facing down any wild animal. And werewolves definitely fell into that category. Come to think of it, so did men.

Across the room on her desk, her computer hummed along, and it was only then she remembered what was on the screen. She glanced over at it, a reflex action she tried to stop, but it was too late. Both men were aware of the flicker of her eyes and they looked in the direction of her desk.

“Sonofabitch.” Jacque strode toward her laptop and stared down at the screen. He quickly closed the picture and flicked through the other files that were on the flash drive.

Gwen cursed herself for not thinking to close the damn computer and hide the files before leaving her desk. Her only excuse was fear, which in her mind was a pretty damn good one.

Jacque turned to her, his dark eyes practically glowing, which was impossible. This seemed to be the night for that. “What else did he give you?”

Gwen swallowed past the giant lump in her throat. Would the police eventually find her cold, dead body lying on the cabin floor? They’d probably write it off to a break-in gone wrong. These things happened. Then they’d file her case in some metal cabinet in a basement somewhere and forget she’d ever lived.

There was no one to remember her. To say she and her parents weren’t close was an understatement. She wasn’t even quite sure where either of them were and didn’t care enough to find out. She had no siblings, no family she was close to. Her legacy was her work and she’d barely even begun to write her book yet. This wasn’t fair.

“What else?”

A shiver skated down her spine as he all but whispered the words. Jacque LaForge speaking softly with that deadly look in his eyes was a hell of a lot more scary than any other guy would be yelling and threatening her.

“Nothing.” She was proud of the fact she’d managed to speak even one word. He growled and she sidled along the wall, trying to get farther away from him.

“Don’t be afraid,
chère
.” Louis stepped into her path, stopping her from moving past him.

Gwen almost snorted at him. Easy for him to say. He wasn’t the one being threatened by two gigantic men, or werewolves or whatever the hell they were.

She took a really good look at them, studying them intently. On the off chance she survived this encounter, she wanted to have a good description to give the police. Jacque was well over six feet tall. Both men were. She estimated around six-three or six-four. They both had incredibly wide shoulders and huge biceps. In spite of the cool weather outside, they were both wearing black T-shirts and no jackets.

Jacque’s shaggy brown hair fell around his shoulders, while Louis’s hair was cropped short. They both had brown eyes—Louis’s eyes were dark and Jacque’s were golden—and they gave her the shivers with their intensity. Jacque’s lips were slightly thinner than his brother’s, while Louis’s nose wasn’t quite as prominent, even though it was slightly swollen from the whack she’d given it with the back of her head. They certainly looked like brothers.

They were hot. No other way to put it. If she weren’t scared to death, she’d probably be attracted to both of them. Any red-blooded woman would be. The jeans they wore clung to thick thighs and firm butts and at any other time she might have admired the bulges in the front of their pants.

She shook her head. Okay, the fear was obviously making her loopy. What did it matter that the LaForge brothers were gorgeous in a dark and deadly way? They were going to kill her. They had to. She’d seen their faces, knew who they were, knew too much about them.

All the blood drained from her face. Oh God, they were going to kill her.

Reality sank in and she began to shake. Not with fear, but with anger. She wasn’t done living yet. She had so much she wanted to do. She hadn’t asked for this. Damn Hector Canton and damn Jacque and Louis LaForge.

Jacque unplugged her laptop and set it aside before he began riffling through her desk.

“Stop that. There is nothing else.” The order was automatic, but she swallowed the rest of her demands when he glared at her with those scary golden-brown eyes. She was quiet for about thirty seconds. “That’s my stuff. Stop it.” He was pawing through the drawer with the notes for her book.

He shot her another deadly glare and continued to search. Obviously, he didn’t believe her, which proved he wasn’t stupid. She wouldn’t believe her either. She had Hector’s phone number and some observations in a little notebook in her purse.

Louis walked over to the desk and began to help his brother rummage through the piles of files and notes she had stacked on her desk. Gwen couldn’t believe her luck. In their search for evidence about their existence, they’d forgotten about her. They probably thought she was too scared to try to run. She inched slowly toward the open front door, desperately trying not to make a sound.

She barely dared to breathe. Freedom was only feet away. If she could get outside, she could run and hide in the woods and maybe make her way to town. No, she didn’t have to run and hide. Her car keys were still in the front pocket of her jeans.

She licked her dry lips, keeping one eye on the door and the other on the men in the corner of her dining room. This could work. Had she locked the driver’s door when she’d arrived home? She couldn’t remember, but she didn’t think so. She’d been so scared all she’d wanted to do was get inside.

That could work to her advantage. With all the other doors locked, if she made it inside her car she should be safe. This had to work.

She was almost to the door when Jacque’s head came up and started to turn in her direction. Gwen reacted immediately and flung herself through the front door. Her feet flew down the three steps and she raced to her car. Her fingers scrambled for the door handle, grasped its cool metal and popped it open. She threw herself into the front seat, slammed the door shut and hit the lock.

Her fingers were shaking as she dug out the keys and jammed them into the ignition. It took her two tries before they finally slid home.

Something heavy hit the car. Gwen cried out and her gaze flew to the front windshield. Jacque was perched in front of her like some giant hood ornament. He was crouched low with one hand resting on the hood. “Unlock the door, Gwen.”

Like that was going to happen. She turned the key and the engine sprang to life. Louis stood beside the car, shaking his head at her. She prayed they didn’t have any guns, although they could easily use her shotgun against her.

Gwen slammed the vehicle into reverse and hit the gas. Louis managed to jump out of the way before she ran him over. She flew backward down the narrow driveway with Jacque riding on the hood. She turned the wheel hard to the left and he flew off, landing with a heavy thud on the ground.

She almost stopped to see if he was hurt then reminded herself that he and his brother were going to kill her. What did it matter if he was hurt? Still, she was glad when she glanced in the rearview mirror and saw him climb to his feet.

“Stop being stupid.” She pressed down on the gas and headed toward town. If she could get to the sheriff’s office she’d be okay. Those guys had guns—lots of them—and they knew how to use them.

She’d only gone a few yards when something heavy hit the roof of the car with a thump. The metal buckled slightly and Gwen yelped, ducking low in her seat. She jerked the steering wheel and the car skidded to one side and then the other. She prayed she didn’t have a wreck. She wasn’t wearing her seatbelt.

“Gwen, stop the car.”

Oh God, Jacque was on the roof. Not that she’d really had any doubt who it was. How the hell had he gotten there?

“He’s a werewolf, stupid. He probably has all kinds of tricks,” she muttered.

“More than you know,” came the wry male reply. He wasn’t exactly yelling, but it was close.

Shit, he could hear her. Perspiration trickled down her temple and into the corner of her eye. She blinked to clear her vision. Town was about twelve minutes away. She could make it. There was no one else on the road tonight. Damn her luck.

“Gwen, pull over.”

Yeah, like she’d listen to him. She jammed the gas pedal down harder. The car bucked and rattled but sped up a bit more. She prayed it didn’t sputter and die before she reached her destination. If she lived through this she was buying a new vehicle. Possibly even a truck, one with a big engine and plenty of power. She should be able to get a used one for a decent price.

God, she was really losing it. The ribbon of asphalt snaked before her, a dark, lonely place without a glimmer of light other than her headlights. She tried to concentrate on her driving, but it wasn’t easy knowing a werewolf was perched on her roof.

She thought she heard him laugh. But that was impossible. Only a crazy man would laugh when he was clinging to the top of a speeding vehicle.

“Turn your head to the left.” She was determined to ignore the muffled command but found her head swiveling a bit before she could stop herself. She caught a glimpse of a dark human-like shape racing in the woods on the far side of the road. Her mind said it had to be an animal of some kind, but she suspected it might be Louis.

A huge crash was followed by shattered shards of glass spilling into the car as the passenger side window was broken. Her foot automatically came off the gas and she threw up her arms to protect herself.

The car began to veer off the road and Gwen grabbed for the steering wheel, cursing herself for releasing it. The tires hit loose gravel and the car was pulled to the right, before she could stop it. The vehicle took a nosedive into the ditch and she was flung forward, her face striking the edge of the steering wheel hard as she struggled to control the crash. The car tilted to one side and Gwen went with it, her body slamming against the passenger door. The impact of the car against the bottom of the ditch made the air bags deploy, but they were too late to save her.

She blinked, trying to clear her vision, but the world was getting darker by the second. Every inch of her body ached and she tasted blood in her mouth.

“Gwen.” Someone was yelling her name but she couldn’t answer. Had she escaped her captors only to kill herself in a crash? She would have laughed at the irony, but she couldn’t summon the energy.

Her last coherent thought was to wonder if she’d managed to kill Jacque too. Her heart clenched at the mere thought and then there was nothing at all.

Chapter Three

“Is she okay?” Louis peered over his shoulder as Jacque lowered himself in through the driver’s side of the damaged vehicle. His heart skipped a beat as he reached for Gwen. She wasn’t moving and blood covered one side of her face. He could see the low rise and fall of her chest each time she took a breath and he heaved a sigh of relief when he realized her heart was still beating.

Guilt assailed him. He hadn’t meant for her to crash but had planned to beat out the window and slide into the car beside her. He wanted to try to talk her into stopping before resorting to taking control of the vehicle. Instead, she’d let go of the wheel long enough to lose control. And she hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt.

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