Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1) Read online

  Fine. He’d do something on his own.

  But then you’ll be mine again. I will return you to your Ireland, your time. What then of the woman and boy?

  Reardon’s head hurt along with his leg now. What then indeed? If he met Flidae’s demands, he’d be ripped away from Brandy and Dylan. He didn’t want that. He was working toward becoming a larger part of their lives. If he didn’t want to leave, why should he strive to do something worthy?

  Because these are my terms, wolf. Flidae’s form grew darker and larger, her eyes harsh glowing orbs, her mouth full of sharp, fang-like teeth. If you don’t continue to pay your penance and meet my challenge, your humans will die. Better to have them live without you than not live at all, no?

  She shrank down to her original size, her natural beauty once again showing.

  So he had to protect them even if he didn’t get to keep them?

  You understand well.

  With that, she faded from view, leaving Reardon in a blackness so complete he felt positively lost.

  I need you. Brandy’s voice again. It grabbed hold of him and pulled him from the darkness. Flidae was right. It was better to have Brandy and Dylan alive and well without him. He’d do whatever it took to keep them safe, and if Flidae sent him back to his home, he’d spend his days loving what he couldn’t have.

  Being a warrior meant sacrifice. This would be his ultimate one.

  Reardon focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Parker tended to his leg, but that pain was not much compared to the hurt in his heart now. He should leave the sanctuary to protect himself, but with Flidae’s threat still echoing between his ears, how could he? Brandy and Dylan were no match for a Celtic goddess, and if he wasn’t around to defend them… he couldn’t even think about what would happen.

  No. He’d stay with them. He’d grow closer to them because he didn’t see how he could not. He’d only been at the sanctuary for a few weeks and already he loved both of them as if he’d known them his entire life. Now that he’d interacted with them in his human form, he couldn’t see how falling deeper for them could be avoided.

  Blasted. Why had he been so foolish? Why had he been so driven for fame and riches that he’d turned his men into wolves, earning Flidae’s banishment? Why had he chosen to live such a brutal life?

  Now he only wanted one life. One with Brandy and Dylan.

  He surrendered to the fog and had no idea how much time had passed before the clouds lifted.

  “His heart rate is growing steadier.” Parker’s voice reached him as he wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness.

  “Thank God.” Sweet Brandy’s voice threw him a lifeline.

  “Is he going to be all right, Mom?” Dylan’s anxious tone arrowed right to his heart.

  “Of course he is. He’s a fighter.” Meredith’s vote of confidence brought him out of the trance.

  The first thing he saw was Brandy’s face leaning over him. He wished he were in human form so he could reach for her, hold her, kiss her.

  “Hey there, big boy.” She buried her face in the fur at his neck and he couldn’t stop the urgent whine that slipped from his throat. When Brandy rose, he licked every inch of her face until she was laughing heartily. Such a wonderful sound. “Okay, okay.” She stepped back and used the end of her tank top to wipe her chin.

  “Guess he’s going to be totally fine.” Parker came into view next to Brandy, giving her a nudge. “He hasn’t lost his affection for you.”

  “Jealous?” Brandy poked him back.

  “Yeah, a little. I mean, I was the one that dug that bullet out. Why isn’t he this happy to see me?” Parker leaned on the exam table.

  Reardon lifted his paw and rested it on Parker’s hand. It was the best he could do. He definitely was not going to give wolf kisses to the vet no matter how many times he tended his injuries.

  “Aww, see? He loves you too, Dr. Daniels.” Brandy put her hand on Reardon’s other paw and gently stroked the fur there.

  “He heard me complain.” Parker went over to the laptop he had open on the counter. “Alator is getting quite a record here. Broken leg. Bullet wound. At least I got the chance to do the physical, I guess.”

  “There had to be an easier way,” Meredith said as she approached with Dylan.

  The boy rested his head on Reardon’s mid-section as if it were a pillow. “What were you doing outside the fence, buddy?”

  “Excellent question,” Brandy said. “There must be a gap somewhere. That’s next on today’s agenda. We can’t have any other wolves escaping. Apparently it’s ridiculously unsafe beyond the sanctuary boundaries.”

  “In other words, be careful out there,” Meredith said to Dylan.

  “Well, you check for gaps,” Parker said as he snapped his laptop shut. “I’m heading over to the sheriff’s.”

  Brandy grabbed Parker’s forearm. “Thanks, Park.”

  “Don’t thank me yet. I may still go over to Swift’s and shoot him in the leg.”

  Reardon clenched his teeth, his claws extending and retracting as he remembered Hank Swift and how he’d come to have a bullet lodged in his leg. He’d been watching Brandy and Parker take wolf after wolf into the clinic for their physical examinations. Determined not to go through one himself—after all, how could he look Parker in the eye as a human if the man had put a thermometer where Reardon definitely did not want a thermometer—Reardon figured he’d escape from the confines of the sanctuary for a few hours so he could prepare for tonight.

  When he’d see Brandy again.

  As a human.

  He needed something else to wear for he knew humans didn’t make a habit of wearing the same things consecutively. As a warrior, he’d worn armor most of the time. Plain and simple. Dented, scratched, and blood-stained armor. In Brandy’s time, variety was essential. He also wanted to bring something to drink as he’d done last night. She’d liked the wine, and he wanted to please her again. Maybe get some flowers too. Something to delight a fairy lass.

  Reardon had hopped the perimeter fence, heading for his stash of money and clothing. As he was about to shift to human form, a snap of twigs stopped him. He sniffed the air and a familiar smell entered his nostrils but he couldn’t place it.

  At first.

  When Hank emerged from the trees, Reardon had gone immediately into defense mode.

  “What are you doing out here, mutt?” Hank had sucked in a huge breath through his nose and spat out a load of phlegm big enough to drown any insects in its path.

  Reardon let out a low growl, flashing his teeth in warning. Before he could turn around and run—for he was certain he could outrun this out-of-shape human—Hank had squeezed off a shot. The man’s aim was impeccable… unless of course he’d been aiming for a more fatal wound.

  Regardless, Reardon couldn’t run with a bullet in his leg so he’d let loose a howl he’d hoped Brandy heard and sunk to the warm earth. Hank came to stand over him, and there was a moment where Reardon thought the man might end him completely. Instead, he nudged Reardon’s body with the tip of a worn-out boot.

  “That fool girl and her wolves. Menace to the whole town.”

  A few moments later, Brandy and Parker had arrived, Parker had talked with Hank, and Hank left, but Reardon was certain that wasn’t the end of Hank Swift. The man had a gift to be around when no wanted him to be. Now Reardon didn’t have what he needed for tonight.

  Tonight!

  Damn. He couldn’t make an appearance tonight in human form with this injury. Werewolves healed quickly, but not that quickly. If he shifted to human tonight, he’d be in more pain and there’d be a limp. A very noticeable one. He also had the feeling Brandy was going to check on him in wolf form often. What would happen if she found his wolf form missing? He couldn’t cause her that worry.

  How could he cancel tonight? He spotted a phone on the wall in the clinic, but he’d have to shift to human to use it. Not that he had a number for Brandy anyway. Why hadn’t he asked for her
number last night? Most likely because where he came from, phones didn’t exist and he didn’t have a phone number of his own to give her. Being a human in Brandy’s time was complicated.

  The only thing Reardon could do was not show up tonight and hope Brandy would forgive him.

  “Dylan?” Brandy’s voice brought him back to the here and now.

  “Yeah, Mom?” Dylan ran his hands along Reardon’s back, and sleep threatened to overtake Reardon again.

  “Will you and Gram watch over Alator while I check the fence for gaps?”

  “Sure. Can we move Alator to a more comfy place?” Dylan asked.

  “A great idea, kid.” Parker tugged on Dylan’s baseball cap. “Where do you want him, B? I’ll help move him before I go.”

  Brandy hesitated, and Reardon couldn’t help setting his gaze on her. If he couldn’t be with her tonight in human form, he definitely knew where he wanted to be in wolf form. The very thought of spending the night in the clinic away from her made his leg hurt worse.

  “In the house. That way we can keep a good watch on him.”

  Reardon let out a small puff of air. She was either in tune to what he wanted or she wanted the same thing.

  Together, Brandy, Parker, and Meredith lifted him and carried him into the house with Dylan opening doors ahead of them.

  “Shit, he’s heavy,” Parker said, his voice strained.

  “We’d have just as much trouble carrying you like this,” Brandy shot back.

  “Oh, for the love of Christ, where are we putting him? Because I’m about to drop him.” Meredith sounded winded, and Reardon wished he was a smaller wolf.

  Dylan ran off and returned a minute later, a book under his arm, dragging the bed Reardon hadn’t used once because he preferred staying in Brandy’s room. “He doesn’t use this, but maybe he’ll like it because he’s hurt.”

  Again Brandy hesitated, and Reardon half expected her to insist they tote him up to her room, but that involved stairs and, unfortunately, wasn’t practical.

  “Good idea, Dylan. Push it toward the couch more,” Brandy said.

  Dylan did as she asked and the three adults carefully lowered Reardon to the bed. Something made a tapping sound in Parker’s hand as he passed a bottle to Brandy.

  “Give him one of these every eight hours to keep him comfortable and low key.”

  “Aye-aye, Doctor.” Brandy saluted him. “Call me after you visit the sheriff.”

  “Will do.” With a pretend punch to Dylan’s shoulder, Parker left.

  Dylan settled on the floor beside the bed and Reardon. The smell of the boy was comforting and sleep beckoned.

  “I’ll take good care of him, Mom. I’m going to read him this Wolverine comic book.” Dylan waved the book he had under his arm.

  “I’ll bet he’ll love that. I’ll be back as soon as I find out what’s up with the fence.”

  Meredith stopped Brandy before she could leave. “Be careful if you go on the other side. Swift is not afraid to shoot anything that moves apparently.”

  Brandy gave her mother a short nod and left the house. Reardon hoped she’d give up looking for that gap in the fence quickly.

  Because there was no gap.

  Chapter Twelve

  After spending half the afternoon searching for apparently nonexistent gaps in the sanctuary’s fence, Brandy tended to the other wolves—because, oh yeah, fifteen other wolves lived at Silver Moon. Her mind had been so ultra-focused on Alator that her other sweet babies had been neglected. She made up for it with some playtime and extra treats, which appeared to be enough reparation on her part. She’d received happy licks and appreciative nuzzles from the pack and had made her way back to the house.

  Where her eyes zeroed in on the one wolf who had completely stolen her heart.

  Why? What in the world was so freaking special about Alator? Yes, he was bigger than the other wolves at Silver Moon, but it was more than that. Behind those green-gold eyes of his, Brandy saw… something.

  “Hey, big boy,” she whispered as she approached his bed and got to her knees beside it.

  The TV was on, and Dylan was sprawled on the couch, snoring like a much, much bigger human. Gently, she nudged him over to his left side, getting him off his back and silencing the roaring Mack truck sounds. He mumbled something about not wanting peas with dinner then buried his face in the couch cushions, continuing his nap.

  Chuckling to herself, Brandy slid Dylan’s comic book onto the coffee table then turned her attention back to Alator who was now looking at her. His head was slightly raised off the fluffy bed as if to say, I’m not sleeping. Do you want to chat?

  “Yeah, I do want to chat, buddy.” She sat on the floor by the bed and ran her hands up and down Alator’s front paws. His eyes disappeared in that face of black for a minute then focused back on her. “I’ve actually got a few questions that need answering.” She moved on to rubbing his jagged ear.

  A low grumble vibrated out of him, followed by a tail wag and a paw over his nose, as if he were hiding from her.

  “Oh, you don’t want to answer questions?” She grabbed his paw and pulled it off his snout. He licked her hand, his tongue rough yet warm. “Wolf kisses will do you no good. I want to know how you got to the other side of the fence, big boy. Because it’s not broken anywhere.”

  She stared at him, half expecting an answer to flow from his canine lips. Of course, that was ridiculous. Wolves didn’t talk. Not with words anyway.

  “Are you magical or something? You appeared in the woods out of nowhere. I can’t determine where you came from. You heal quickly from serious wounds. And then you can escape like Houdini. What’s that all about?”

  Alator rolled to his back, a small whine sounding as he no doubt moved his injured leg too much. He managed to stay on his back though, his front paws hanging in front of him and his head tilted at a coy, aren’t-I-adorable manner.

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re super cute, but that’s not what we’re talking about.”

  “And what does one talk to wolves about?” Meredith walked into the living room carrying a glass of iced tea. She handed it to Brandy and sat in the recliner perpendicular to the couch.

  Brandy took a swig of the tea, relishing its cool descent down her throat. Walking the entire perimeter of the sanctuary and playing with the other wolves out there in the summer temperatures had heated her up pretty good.

  “Right now I’m grilling this one about how the hell he got outside the sanctuary.” She angled her hands at Alator who had rolled back to his side, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making her laugh.

  “Let me guess,” Meredith said. “No fence issues.”

  “Not a one. It’s as if he somehow beamed himself out.”

  “The new question then is why he felt he needed to be on the other side. What did he see? What did he want? Where was he going?” Meredith settled deeper into the recliner, looking as if she might follow Dylan’s lead and take a nap as well.

  Where was he going? That question bugged Brandy. Had Alator been trying to leave? Did he not like it at Silver Moon? Was there somewhere else he’d rather be?

  Brandy squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to get answers to those questions either, so what was the point in thinking them? She looked back down at Alator. He met her gaze directly, and a vision of Reardon looking at her after they’d made love last night zipped across her mind, making her jolt.

  What was that about? More importantly, what time was it?

  She squinted at the time on the cable box under the TV and popped up. “Oh, shit!”

  “What’s the matter?” Meredith opened one eye.

  “I nearly forgot Reardon was coming by for dinner. I haven’t even cooked anything.” She pulled at her blood-stained shorts and brushed at her dirty knees. “I need to shower and change and…” She took a step toward the stairs then stepped back to Alator’s bed then pivoted again.

  “Whoa there, missy.” Meredith got up and clamped her han
ds on Brandy’s shoulders to still her. “First of all, I started dinner already. Lasagna, veggies, fresh baked bread. Secondly…” She backed up a step and gave Brandy a judging once-over. “Uh, yeah, go take that shower.” She turned Brandy toward the stairs and gave her a little nudge. “Go on. And put on that purple sundress. It shows off your killer biceps nicely.”

  “Mom…”

  “What? Reardon strikes me as a man who likes killer biceps on a woman.” Meredith shrugged and settled back on the recliner after she swiped the remote from under Dylan.

  Brandy took the stairs two at a time. She popped in her bedroom and did a quick tidy of the area, assuming—hoping, really—she and Reardon would be making use of the room again tonight. A buzzy giddiness she rather liked filled her.

  After rummaging around in her closet for the dress Meredith had indicated, she skipped into the bathroom. Yeah, skipped. She indulged in a lavender-scented body wash as she scrubbed away the craziness of the day.

  Forty-five minutes later she was as primped as she got, wearing the dress with a pair of silver sandals, her long red hair curled and gathered in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. She’d pulled a few tendrils out to frame her face and had adorned her ears with amethyst teardrop earrings.

  She felt… sexy.

  Would Reardon think she was? He’d appeared to like her more casual look last night. What she looked like right now could only be considered an upgrade. He was a man after all. Surely he had to appreciate long, exposed legs and soft waves of red hair.

  Right?

  Shit. Why was she nervous all of a sudden? She hadn’t been nervous yesterday. She’d been aggressive and confident, knowing exactly what she wanted from Reardon and what she wanted to give him. Yesterday had been about thanking him for saving her and Dylan, though.

  Tonight?

  Well, tonight was because she wanted him. Pure and simple.

  She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen where Dylan and Meredith were eating at the small kitchen table. “Hey, why are you guys eating already?”