Wolf's Haven (2 page)

He handed her a small black drawstring bag. “You know what to do?”

“Cut the telephone line. Enter through the side vent,” she said, pulling the hoody over her head.

He grinned. “Good girl. Do it in ten minutes, top.”

Tamara nodded, and then pushed the start button on her stop watch. She tossed the bag over her shoulders, and jogged behind a building. The museum was the next block over, but if she cut across behind an adjacent storage lot, it would take her half the time to get there. Then she’d have two minutes to report the break in to the cops. It had to be timed just right. Brad and his crew would have to be inside the museum and the police on the way before she hauled ass. Once the museum was under lock down, there would be no way out.

At the back of the building, she pulled a bobby pin from the bun secured at her nape and jimmied the lock. It gave way in a matter of seconds. The voices of the guards near the front of the building greeted her as the door swung open. She tiptoed inside, her heart about to burst from fear. Keys rattled and two doors slammed as the guards locked and secured the museum. They’d activated the security system, but she’d made it in just in time.

After unarming the system, she took the stairs down to the basement level, and entered a small office. There was a phone on the wall near the door just as Brad had told her. He and his crew had mapped out the entire museum and planned the burglary for several days. While they’d been planning to commit a crime, she’d been planning to execute her escape.

Tamara lifted the receiver with shaky fingers and punched the three digits that she should have used many times during her spats with Brad.

It rang once before an operator answered. “Nine one one. What’s your emergency?”

“I want to report a break-in,” Tamara whispered. “Hurry please.”

“Give me the location, ma’am.”

“Heritage Museum of Fine Arts.” She glanced down at her stop watch.
Shit!
Brad would be waiting at the back door now.

“Are you okay, ma’am?”

Tamara disconnected the call and raced toward the back of the museum. Her instincts proved to be correct. When she opened the back door, Brad and the other guy barged inside.

“What took you so long?” He nudged passed her and shoved a bag into her arms. “You take the third floor. I’ll handle the safe.”

Tamara paused, but only for a moment. She didn’t want to get herself away. What she hadn’t planned on was him asking her to help with bagging stuff. Her plan was to escape from the basement while they worked, but now she was stuck inside.

After glancing at her watch, she began her trek up the stairs. It was now five minutes to midnight. She had no more time. The cops would be there in a matter of minutes. If she was caught inside, there was no doubt that she would go down with Brad and his crew.

The window on the first floor opened with ease. She snatched the knife from the sleeve of her boot and cut through the screen. A gust of wind blasted her in the face as she tore the rest of it off.

Sirens blared in the distance. They were coming.

“Shit!” She was supposed to be out of here by now.

As she looked down out of the third story window, she feared busting her head on the pavement more than she feared time in jail. The cat would be out of the bag soon. She’d set her fiancé up and if she didn’t haul ass now, she would pay.

The panicked voices from the lower floor confirmed that Brad heard the cops approaching. Tamara climbed on the window sill, and gripped the panes for balance. She swallowed dry air and her heart tightened. Her choices were limited. Die on the asphalt below or rot in jail. Either way she was doomed, so she took the jump.

When she hit the hard pavement, her legs gave out and buckled under her. Her body toppled over. In an attempt to keep her balance, she lifted her hands out in front of her. She’d saved herself from falling on her face, but her elbows and knees hit the rough gravel. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. As her bones throbbed in pain, she dragged herself toward some bushes. Blue lights flashed all around her, casting eerie shadows on the trees. Running through the forest was her only escape, but she needed to get a head start.

Her hand connected with the wired fence.
She was stuck.

Her head swirled as the sirens and police radios echoed around her. Digging her fingers in the dirt, she managed to bring herself up to kneel. The bruises on her leg stung like someone had packed salt into it. She could stay huddled behind the bushes and pray the cops didn’t search there or she could come out from behind them to turn herself in. One thing was for certain; she wouldn’t get very far with a sprained ankle. And if she did, by the time she got to the station, her train would be gone.

Tamara tried again to stand up, but the ache was unbearable. Something rustled in the bushes next to her, and she strained her ears to hear better over the noise and mayhem surrounding the museum.

A low grumbling resonated behind her. The noise sounded like something that would come from a wild dog. She turned her head slowly in the direction of the sound. Her gaze met a pair of bright emerald eyes. A scream caught in her throat when she realized the eyes belonged to a huge wolf. Her heart halted.

The wolf’s grumble turned to a growl. Now she was certain the devil existed. She was trying to escape to a better future, and her very life was threatened yet again. It wasn’t until a tear landed between her lips that she realized she was crying.

“Nice…wolfie.” Tamara scooted back on her hands and knees away from the wolf.

The wolf tilted its nose and glared at her. It stepped forward, sniffing the air around her. The head and shoulders were massive and the face broad. He had to be male. She wasn’t a stranger to wolves and had encountered them many times in the Virginia wilderness. But what was one doing out and about in the city?

Her head turned in the direction of male voices.
Cops.
Had Brad and the others rat her out? She ducked lower as they came nearer.

The wolf must have sensed her panic because he turned with ears perked up and sniffed the air behind it.

“There’s another one around here someone,” the cop said. “He jumped from that open window up there.”

Tamara squeezed her lips together, and kept her eyes on the wolf. For some reason, the wolf did nothing to bring attention to their location. Surely her cover would be blown if it so much as growled one more time.

Suddenly the wolf moved forward slowly, and bowed its head with the nose nearly touching the ground. She recognized this as a gesture of submission. It was as if he understood her plight and pitied her.

Tamara reached out slowly with her hand until she came in contact with the wolf’s face. The fur was surprisingly soft. He turned his face into her palm and sniffed loudly.

“I’ve done something very bad, wolfie.”

With shaky fingers, she reached up to stroke the side of his belly. Maybe she’d bumped her head on the pavement from the fall. Perhaps she’d even died and gone to Heaven as a result of the fall.  Why else would she be allowed to stand within millimeters of a living breath wild wolf and not be mauled alive?

The wolf lifted its head to make eye contact with her and came closer. He nudged at her forearm and moved so that they were side by side. That was when she glimpsed his size. He had to have been the biggest wolf she’d ever seen.

“
Hold on
.”

Tamara jumped back.
What the…?
Did the wolf just talk to her? Damn, she must really be hallucinating.

Her life was over anyway. If she were killed and eaten by a humongous wolf, no one would ever care. Did she want to spend the rest of her life in a jail cell next to Brad Thatcher or be this wolf’s next meal?

She looped her arm around its neck and dragged herself on top. Before she could utter her next breath, the wolf leaped into the air and over the fence. The transition happened so fast that everything went by in a blur.

When it landed on the other side, it raced through the forest taking her away from the blaring sirens. Taking her away from the jail sentence she deserved for breaking into that museum. Taking her away from the life she hated so much. It seemed she rode for hours on the back of the wolf by the time it stopped next to a stream.

She slid off its back and it walked up to the stream and took a drink. All the while, he kept his eyes on her.

“Thank you, wolfie.”

The wolf’s forehead creased and it studied her while lapping up the water.

Tamara glanced around the forest, seeing nothing but trees and bramble in the darkness. The wolf had taken her far, and all she heard were night owls and critters around them. A chilled breeze rushed over her and she shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms. She lifted her wrist and glanced down at the time. The train she was supposed to catch had already left.

She sighed. What would she do now?

The wolf backed away from the stream and turned. After taking a long look at her, it started in the other direction.

It was leaving.
Digging her nails into the dirt, she tried to lift herself on her feet. A strong shock shot up the back of her leg. Grabbing her thighs, she doubled over. This time she bit into her lip and could have sworn she drew blood. When she looked up again, the wolf had already moved several yards away from her.

Finally Tamara managed to bring herself to an upright position. She took several steps before the toe of her boot stumbled over something hard on the ground. Once again she lost her balance and it seemed as though the world turned upside down. Her back hit the forest floor in a thud and her vision became hazy.

When she opened her eyes again, the emerald stare of the wolf was there again. Her lips spread into a smile. Arms blanketed her. This time she felt skin and muscles, not the soft fur of the wolf. There was a face of man and dark hair that swept the forehead. But the eyes were the same.

What the—

Tamara frowned, her blurry gaze sweeping the face of the man. “Wolfie?”

It was all she could manage before exhaustion set in.
Sleep
. All she wanted to do was rest. Her heavy eyelids closed as pain and confusion swirled throughout her head.

Darkness claimed her…

D
evin placed another log in the fireplace and pushed it into the flames with the iron rod. The small blaze crackled and grew taller, and a woodsy pine aroma filled the interior of the cottage. He’d always forgotten the sense of tranquility this place brought to him. It had been so long since he’d last lived here. The cobwebs were just beginning to take over. But, it wasn’t the state of the cottage that worried him most.

He replaced the rod on its hook, dusted the palms of his hands off on the front of his jeans and turned around. He focused his gaze on the majestic beauty that slept like a fairy on the large four poster bed in the middle of the cottage. Her hair fanned out like a curtain as she curled up under the quilt on her side into a fetal-like position. She was light and slim in build, but surprisingly tall. Her skin was a light tea-colored shade in contrast to the dark mahogany hue of her hair. There were hints of red highlighted through it.

Devin moved closer and observed the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She’d slept through sunrise and beyond. Sunset was on the rise and she’d stirred a few times, but had yet to awake. He supposed that her body was working overtime trying to heal the nasty sprain on her right ankle. She was lucky the bones weren’t broken. It had shocked him to see her small frame falling from the window of the museum. But had she fallen or jumped?

He turned his attention back to the vegetable soup boiling on the stove. His mother used to cook it all the time for him when he was just a pup. From past memories, he’d picked out the fresh ingredients at the market to make the soup. He’d nearly cut his finger trying to slice the carrots, but managed somehow. It wasn’t every day that he prepared meals.

After turning the burner on low, he stirred the contents of the pot. He drew in a deep breath, taking in the delicious aroma of the mix of various spices. So this was what he was missing in a good home cooked meal? His solitary life back in Montana made it easier to dine out almost every night. He would have devoured the whole pot on the spot, but it was not customary among his kind to eat before the women. This was something he didn’t have to worry about; he shouldn’t have been worried about it now. He was an unmated wolf. How could the stranger on his bed trigger this custom now?