A Wolf's Treasure (The Kincaid Werewolves Book 5), page 16
“What are ye doing here, lass?”
Her chin lifted, nostrils flaring as she sniffed. “Actually, you smell like more than one.”
Duncan didn’t respond. What was there to say? She was right.
“Did you have fun?”
Something in her tone affected him deeply. “No, I did no’,” he told her honestly.
“You smell like you had fun.” Her head tilted to the side and her brow furrowed. “Although, I guess I would be more concerned if you only smelled like one human in particular. By walking out of the club drenched in so many odious perfumes, it tells me there wasn’t a singular woman who kept your attention, but numerous women. And that tells me you were just blowing off steam, and not looking for my replacement.”
Turning his back to her, he stuck his key in the door and unlocked it. “Ye dinna need tae be concerned at all. Ye are no’ my keeper.”
“I don’t know what I did wrong.”
Duncan looked heavenward, hoping the gods would take pity on him and send down a sudden storm. Perhaps with some dangerous lightning bolts.
But it appeared they’d turned their backs on him this night. He was on his own.
However, he didn’t have to stay there.
Opening his door, he put one leg inside. Then he paused. “What are ye doin’ here, Ryanne?”
“I just told you. I don’t know what I did wrong, or why you’re suddenly so cold toward me, but I’d like to talk it out. I’d like things to go back to how they were earlier today.”
Earlier today he’d been balls deep in her sweet heat. Had that all been part of her plan? A way to keep him distracted while she extracted information out of him? She’d used him. Used his body for her pleasure and his mind for her amusement. “Shouldn’t ye be worried aboot yer father, the prince?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in her answer. “But here I am.” As though that explained everything.
“Find another wolf tae fook with, princess. As I told ye, I appreciate what ye did for me, and so did th’ ladies inside.”
It was cruel. That last thing.
A stricken expression twisted her bonnie features and colors flashed from her eyes, but Duncan was not to be swayed by her tricks. “But I dinna need ye anymore. And ye have Cedric now tae fill ye in on our pack’s business. Ye dinna need me anymore, either, so ye can stop pretending I mean anything good tae ye.”
She stepped toward him. “I’m not pretending Duncan.”
He growled at her approach and she stopped. “Good luck, princess,” he told her as a way of goodbye.
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? Is that no’ what ye are?”
When she didn’t answer, he climbed the rest of the way in the Jeep and closed the door.
Ryanne stayed where she was.
Duncan ignored her and stuck the key in the ignition. He just wanted to go home and sleep off all the whiskey and disappointment weighing down his bones. He was tired, both physically and emotionally, and he needed time away from the sight and smell of her. He would not be used by her. Not anymore.
The burner phone in his glovebox rang just as he gripped the gear shift. Leaving the Jeep in park, he pulled it out. It was Cedric. Icy cold fingers spread through his gut. The only reason he’d be calling on this phone was when something really bad had happened and he didn’t want the call seen or traced.
Duncan threw the Jeep into drive as he answered. “Aye, Cedric, I’m on my way…what?” He stomped on the break before he managed to go anywhere and glanced out of the corner of his eye. Ryanne still stood where he had left her. Not that he needed to look to confirm it. He could feel her eyes on him. Feel the chaos of her emotions, as muddled as his own. “Aye, I do ken where she is. She’s right here.”
His heart stopped as he listed to his alpha, only to start back up again twice as fast. His voice was little more than a growl when he answered, “Aye. I’ve got her. He will no’ find her. Aye, I’ll check in when we get somewhere. Aye. I will.” Ending the call, he laid the phone on the dash and smashed his fist down on it. Scooping it into his hand, he dropped it in the cup holder then rolled down his window. “Get in,” he told Ryanne.
She didn’t hesitate. Jogging around the front of the vehicle to the passenger side, she jumped in and buckled her seatbelt. “What’s happened?” she asked as he pulled out of the parking lot.
“Yer father,” was the only answer he gave her. And, apparently, that was the only response she needed, for she let out a breath and leaned back in the seat. Turning her head, she stared out the window.
Duncan headed south. The pack had a safe house on the northern tip of Bainbridge Island, but it was too late to take the ferry. He would go south through Tacoma and take the bridge across, then north to Poulsbo and back south to the tip of the island. It was the long way, but it would have to do. He needed to get her away from the pack.
They drove in silence until they got across the bridge. Once on the other side, Duncan pulled off the highway.
Ryanne sat up, looking out the windows. “Why are we stopping?”
“I need tae get gas and a few supplies.” Duncan heard the way he clipped off his words, but he couldn’t help it. He was angry. He just didn’t know if it was at her, or at himself for being taken for such a fool.
“Oh.” Settling back in her seat, she went back to staring out the window.
His conscience pricked at him, but there was no time to get into some heartfelt discussion. Pulling into a grocery store, he stopped at the pumps and filled up the Jeep, then pulled up into the parking lot. “Stay in the vehicle,” he ordered. Reaching across her lap, he pulled another burner phone out of the glovebox, ignoring the heat that speared through him when he accidentally brushed her thigh. “If anything happens, dial the number one on the speed dial. Ye ken how tae do that?”
She took the phone, pressed the home button, checked out the screen. She nodded.
“Good. Th’ keys are in th’ ignition. If anything happens, anyone gets too close, ye leave. Do ye hear me? Ye leave, and ye call me on that phone.”
“What about you?”
“I will find ye,” he told her. Opening his door, he jumped out. “Keep th’ doors locked,” he told her, then he pushed the button to do just that and shut the door.
Walking into the store, he felt the weight of her gaze as she watched him.
Duncan steeled his spine, ignoring the howls of his wolf for leaving her alone and unprotected. He ground his teeth together.
She was not his to protect. Not now. Not ever.
Chapter 19
The silence was becoming oppressive by the time they pulled off the one lane road they’d been driving on for the last eight or so miles.
Ryanne had never been so happy to get out of a vehicle.
She looked around. It was still dark, but she could smell the fishy, salty air of the Puget Sound. And by the sound of water lapping against the shoreline, this was a waterfront property. Trees towered around the property on the remaining three sides, hiding them from anyone who might be passing by.
Surveying the little, brown, one-story house, she was surprised to spot cameras on each corner of the roof. And as she watched, they moved slowly in an arc, scanning the area.
Duncan walked past her, his arms full of paper bags. Ryanne followed him across the long porch to the front door, where a panel with numbered buttons kept anyone from getting in. She tried to watch as he punched in a code, but he stepped to the side to block her view before opening the door and walking inside. Ever the gentleman, even when he was upset with her, he held the door open with his foot, waiting for her to pass him before he let it swing shut.
He nodded to her right, and she headed that way.
Setting the bags on the small, round table just off the rustic kitchen, he flicked on a light. Pausing on his way back out to the Jeep, he said, “There’s a couple o’ bedrooms down th’ hall there.” He pointed behind her. “Pick whichever one ye like. If ye’d like tae shower or anything, there’s clean towels and such in th’ hall closet. Spare clothes are in th’ closet in the bedroom. Either one. They’re no’ yer size, but ye may be able tae find something ye can wear until we can get ye something.”
After he left, she pulled her hoodie off and draped it over a chair, looking around. The kitchen was done in different shades of natural woods—the floor, the cabinets, the counters, even the table. Large, square windows lined the wall behind the table—a theme throughout the house she soon found out—and she would bet the views during the daylight hours were stunning. The appliances were stainless steel and probably on the higher end of the price range, if she were to take a guess.
Peeking in one of the bags, she found canned soups, peanut butter, jelly, and a thick loaf of some kind of grainy bread on top.
In the other bag there was some apples and oranges and pre-packaged salads. She started pulling them out and putting them in the fridge, noticing it was already stocked with just about every condiment one could want. She wondered whose house this was, and how often someone was here.
If this were her house, with the trees and the water and complete lack of neighbors—human or otherwise—she didn’t think she would ever want to leave.
Duncan came back inside, saw her standing there with a couple of cans of soup in her hand and stopped short before he seemed to catch himself. Continuing forward, he placed the last two bags on the table. As he began to unpack the packages of meat from one and bags of frozen stuff from another, he said, “Dinna ye want tae ken why we’re here? Or do ye trust me that much?”
The last was said in jest, she knew, but she answered him honestly all the same. “I do trust you.”
He eyed her as he pulled what looked to be large steaks out of the last bag. “And what if yer wrong?”
“I’m not.”
“How do ye ken?”
“I’m not,” she insisted. “And I wish you would stop and just talk to me. You’re upset. And I know why. But if you would just talk to me—”
The door to the refrigerator slammed shut, and Ryanne jumped in spite of her herself.
“Ye want tae ken why I’m upset?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Ye want me tae spell it out for ye?”
“Please,” she told him. Pulling out a chair, she sat down at the table, crossed her legs, folded her hands on the tabletop, and waited. Ryanne couldn’t stand the tension between them anymore. She wasn’t used to it, being that she’d spent most of her time alone ever since her father had tried to kill her. She didn’t know how to process it.
And it hurt.
Duncan eyed her sitting there with narrowed eyes but didn’t join her. Instead, he paced the small space of the kitchen, much like Cedric had earlier in his apartment. Only unlike Cedric, who had done it out of habit while he was thinking, Duncan seemed to be doing it to work out the aggression rolling under his skin. She knew this because she could feel it thickening the air. And by the way he rolled the tension from his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side.
“Do you want me to start?” she asked.
He stopped pacing and stared at her. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Ye used me.”
“Duncan—”
With a quick shake of his head, he cut her off before she could try to explain. “No. Ye dinna get tae give me yer excuses. Ye used me for information about my pack and yer father’s place within it.”
“You’re right,” she told him. “I did.”
“Aye, ye did. But I’m done being used. For information or…anything else.”
Anything else? What did that mean?
His chest rose and fell on a deep inhale. “I’m going tae bed,” he announced. And he did, indeed, sound tired. “I suggest ye do the same. Yer safe here. The house and grounds are monitored twenty-four hours. I’ve set th’ alarm on th’ house and there’s an invisible fence around th’ property. Dinna try tae sneak out or th’ alarms will sound.”
“What if I want to go outside and get some air?”
“Ye can go outside tomorrow,” was his short response.
Ryanne watched him walk away, a heaviness in her chest she didn’t know how to deal with. She wanted to fix things between them, but she didn’t know how.
He was absolutely right. She had used him for information. In the beginning, at least. And her need to get to know him had been for purely selfish reasons. But she wasn’t sorry she’d done so.
For a long time now, there was only one person Ryanne could depend on, and that was herself. The only one she could trust was herself. Not friends. And certainly not family. Her very life depended on it. And she wouldn’t apologize for it.
She just wished he would understand why she’d done what she had and not take it so personally. It had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with her own survival.
The life she had as good as sacrificed when she started to care more about being with a shifter then watching her own back.
A huge sigh escaped her. Perhaps he was right to cut off whatever this was between them now, before it completely ruined everything.
Yes, she decided as she rummaged around for a teabag, Duncan was right. And she needed to stop…whatever this was she was feeling for him and concentrate on the reason she was here. Perhaps Cedric could send out another of his pack to stay with her, though. Because she didn’t know how strong her resolve would be after days or weeks in such close proximity with Duncan.
Finally, she found a box of tea bags and she smiled. She hadn’t had a hot cup of tea in months. A tea pot sat on the stovetop, and she filled it with water and turned on a burner to heat it. Soon, she was turning off the light and walking down the hall, a steaming cup of tea in her hand.
She listened for something to tell her which room Duncan had taken, and finally heard him moving around in the room to her left. Turning on her heel, she entered the one across the hall. In the darkness, she saw the outline of a large bed with a little table next to it. The table contained a lamp. The room was otherwise empty.
As she’d taken a shower earlier at Duncan’s, she didn’t bother to do so now. Besides, it appeared the only bathroom was at the end of the hall between the two rooms, and she didn’t want to give him any reason to yell at her more. Not until she had time to think through everything he’d said in the kitchen. Instead, she stripped down to her underwear and her thermal shirt and climbed into bed without bothering to turn on the light.
Sipping her tea, she watched the moon descend into the trees outside her window.
She wished she could open it so she could smell the ocean air and feel the breeze.
Something woke Ryanne from a sound sleep. Startled, she sat up, not remembering at first where she was. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around the room.
Brown comforter. Brown sheets. Single lamp on a bedside table. Large, square window on the wall to her left. But no moon this time as the clouds had rolled in again.
The little, brown house with her shifter sleeping across the hall instead of in her bed.
Sitting very still, she listened. Rain pattered on the roof and a tree branch rubbed against the house somewhere. Nothing that would’ve woken her. And thunder was not common in this area. Just the steady rain that never failed to lull her to sleep.
She must have been dreaming.
Ryanne scooted back down into the bed. Sat up again. Took a sip of her now-cold tea. Then snuggled back under the thick blankets. It was no wonder she’d slept so hard. The thing was like a giant cloud, cradling her body perfectly.
Thirty seconds later, she threw off the blankets and padded in her bare feet to the bathroom. She was washing her hands and had just shut the water off when she heard it again. A moan, eerie and drawn out, filled with such agony it raised the hair on the back of her neck.
Quietly, she opened the door and stepped into the hall. Was someone in the house?
The sound came again, only this time with a muffled shout accompanying it.
It was coming from Duncan’s room.
Reacting on instinct alone, she rushed to his door and threw it open. But there were no invaders. No one had broken in. She only saw Duncan in a bed much like hers, the blankets twisted around his legs as he thrashed beneath them.
Ryanne walked quickly to the bed, not knowing what to do. Should she wake him? She didn’t want to scare him.
He mumbled something she couldn’t understand, his face twisting into a mask of pain that pulled at things inside of her. Things she’d never known were there. Things that made her hurt as he was obviously hurting, if only in his memories.
That made up her mind. She would not leave him locked in the prison of his mind to fight his demons alone. For she had a good idea exactly who they were, and she couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible. Ryanne knew what it was like to be a prisoner of her people, and she hated knowing he was going through that. Even if it wasn’t real this time.
“Duncan.” She touched his bare arm, blinking hard against the wetness in her eyes. “Duncan, wake up. It’s only a dream.”
Turning on the bedside light, she saw his eyes moving back and forth beneath his eyelids. His lips moved, murmuring things she couldn’t hear or understand. Ryanne sat on the edge of the bed and took both of his shoulders in her hands.
The thick muscles tensed beneath her touch.
“Duncan! Wake up!” she said a little louder. “Wake up. It’s only a dream.” She gave him a little shake. “Duncan!”
On a rasping inhale, his eyes shot open and stared at the ceiling for a brief second before zeroing in on her face.
She gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. You were having a dream.”
He was very still. Only his eyes moved as they travelled over her face.
A shadow passed within them, and it wasn’t Duncan looking out at her. Ryanne sat up, putting a little distance between herself and the beast staring out at her.
