Werewolf in Alaska way-5 Read online

  Ironically, Rachel had solved that problem for him. She’d lobbied for better Internet service in the area, and last fall she’d succeeded. Jake’s remote location combined with his new political cause meant he needed to become adept at navigating the Web, and he had. Face-to-face contact was important during this first year of the campaign, but soon he’d be able to manage WARM almost exclusively online.

  That meant more time for his business and more time to enjoy his cabin and its proximity to the lake. He liked that idea, assuming he could get over his fixation on Rachel. If he couldn’t . . . well, then, he’d put permanent distance between them by moving to some other small Alaskan town.

  In the meantime, he’d continue with his nightly swims, which helped dampen his lust. Walking out on his deck, he began stripping off his clothes. Then he paused when a movement off to the far right of Rachel’s cabin caught his eye. Leaving his shirt unbuttoned, he walked back inside and grabbed his binoculars.

  He swore softly when he got a good look at what had caught his attention. A good-sized grizzly meandered along, headed toward Rachel’s place. Uh-oh. A cub trailed behind. Mama and baby bear. Not good. He knew from close observation that Rachel liked to roam back and forth between her cabin and her shop while she worked. A mother bear with a cub could be extremely touchy.

  He cursed himself for not having Rachel’s phone number, although with her power saw running, she probably wouldn’t hear the ring. He could drive around to her place, but navigating that winding road would take too long.

  He knew the fastest route very well. Running full out, he could make it to Rachel’s cabin in less than ten minutes. In wolf form he could communicate telepathically with the bear and assure her that Rachel was no threat to her cub. It might help avert a potential disaster.

  Ripping off his clothes, he stretched out on the wooden floor of his cabin and willed himself into his shift. Contrary to what most humans believed, he didn’t need a full moon to do it. He could shift on demand. Also contrary to human belief, a Were’s bite couldn’t turn a human into a werewolf. A werewolf was born, not made.

  But Jake couldn’t imagine humans giving up their cherished ideas about menacing werewolves, even when confronted by shape-shifters who were members of the Fortune 500 and wore Armani to the office. Revealing their presence in society would cause panic at the very least. Personally he thought bloody battles would follow as fear replaced reason on both sides.

  His transformation complete, he rose from the floor and shook himself from head to tail. Jake Hunter, wilderness guide, had been replaced by a midnight black wolf with green eyes, a Were that many claimed was the spitting image of his father. But Jake’s nose was squared off, a trait he’d inherited from the Wallace side. He was proud of that nose.

  Before opening the slider and walking onto the deck, he checked the surrounding area. Deserted. He nudged the door open with his nose. His parents had urged him to install a werewolf-friendly door with paw-sensitive commands on a keypad, but he’d resisted.

  Unlike the mansion his folks had owned in Idaho, this was a simple cabin by the lake, one he might sell someday. So instead of an elaborate electronic keypad, he’d put in a top-of-the-line sliding door that moved effortlessly with a simple nose bump.

  Locking it wasn’t necessary. Polecat had a zero crime rate, and no wild animal would push its way into a cabin that smelled like a dangerous predator. Besides, his door solution wouldn’t arouse curiosity in any human who might buy the place eventually. He was out in a flash and slid the door closed. One quick bound took him to the path leading around the lake.

  He kept to the shadows and stayed alert to any noise or movement that would betray the presence of humans, either on foot or riding trail bikes. With luck he could handle the bear without attracting any attention. If the grizzly had moved off in a different direction, he’d hang around a while to make sure Rachel was safe. Then tomorrow he’d notify Ted that he’d spotted a bear and cub near her place. Ted would let her know to be careful.

  As he neared her workshop, he picked up the tang of fresh-cut wood wafting from the open window, along with the almond scent he associated with Rachel. Unfortunately, the musky odor of bear grew stronger by the second, too. Mama and baby had continued on the same trajectory, bringing them closer to Rachel’s cabin with each lumbering step.

  Maybe he could head them off before . . . nope. Too late. The cub rounded the corner of the cabin and ambled across the well-worn path that ran along the lake between Rachel’s back door and her workshop. Its mother was about to follow when Rachel came out of her shop carrying a cardboard cylinder in the crook of her arm.

  Chances were it contained plans for an installation of her work, but Jake thought it looked way too much like a rifle. He hoped the bear wouldn’t think so, too. Rachel was talking on her cell phone. Ordinarily she was very observant, but for whatever reason, she was too engrossed in the conversation to notice her surroundings.

  Jake held his breath. Maybe, just maybe, she’d keep walking, oblivious, and the mother bear would let her pass by. She was halfway between her workshop and her cabin when that hope died.

  A warning growl from the mother bear caused Rachel to glance up. The cub shuffled its feet, and Rachel’s gaze slowly swung to the other side of the path. The color drained from her face. Anyone who’d lived in the backwoods of Alaska understood the danger of standing between a mother and her cub.

  Hidden in the trees bordering Rachel’s property, Jake sent a telepathic message to the bear. Don’t harm the woman. She won’t hurt your baby.

  The reply was filled with panic. She has a gun! She’s going to shoot him!

  Jake kept his eyes on the bear as he edged out into the open, closer to the bear. It’s not a gun. It’s a cardboard tube.

  It is a gun! She’s too close!

  The bear’s hysteria worried him. He moved a few more steps toward her. Just walk past her and take your baby out of this area. Nothing will happen to him. I promise the woman’s not a threat.

  She’s going to kill him!

  No, she isn’t. Don’t attack!

  Must save my baby.

  • • •

  Rachel looked back toward the mother bear, but then she broke eye contact immediately. She remembered Grandpa Ike telling her that staring at a predator could be interpreted as a challenge. Some challenge. Terror sent cold sweat trickling down her sides.

  On the other end of the phone connection, Otis Wilberforce, a Chicago attorney, kept asking what was wrong.

  She whispered her response. “Bear.”

  “A bear? Well, stay inside, okay? And lock the door!”

  How she longed to be behind a locked door. Her heart pumped frantically as all her instincts told her to run. She resisted. Her grandfather had also told her that running was the worst thing a person could do.

  Besides, the bear was too close and she was too far from either door to make it safely inside. Maybe, if she stayed very still, the bear would go away. Or maybe not, with the little one on the other side of the path.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! Why hadn’t she looked before she’d walked out the workshop door? But in all the time she’d spent here, she’d never come face-to-face with a bear, let alone two of them.

  She struggled to think clearly. What would be the smartest response? Drop and roll into a ball? Lift her arms and look bigger and more difficult to manage? Her paralyzed brain refused to guide her.

  “Rachel? Are you okay?” Otis sounded worried. “You’re not outside, are you?”

  “Yes. ’Bye.” Locating the disconnect button with her thumb, she ended the call. From the corner of her eye she could see the animal’s powerful muscles bunch. Oh, God. The mother bear was going to charge. Rachel sensed the intent before the low growl came, a growl filled with menace.

  She was about to be mauled by a bear with claws the length of carving knives and teeth that could sever an arm in one bite. She might survive and she might not. But either way, she w
as in for a world of pain.

  Gulping with fear, she faced the animal. Maybe if she threw the phone right at its head . . . no, not good. She was shaking so much her aim would be lousy, and besides, the phone was too light. It would just bounce off.

  Shoving the phone in her pocket, she lifted the cardboard tube, brandishing it as if prepared to do some damage. The tube might look scary enough to fool the bear. In any case, she’d be damned if she’d go down without a fight, short and pitiful though it might be.

  As the bear charged, something black streaked in front of it, blocking its path. Rachel stumbled back, eyes wide. A wolf! Surely not the wolf, and yet . . . no, it couldn’t be. Launching itself at the bear, the wolf closed its jaws over the bear’s throat and hung on.

  The bear roared and stood on its hind legs, becoming a seven-foot nightmare of animal rage. It wrapped both front paws around the wolf and raked its claws down one side of the wolf’s body. The wolf didn’t let go. Dropping to all fours, the bear swung its massive head from side to side, flinging the wolf around like a rag doll. The wolf held on.

  After what seemed like hours, the mother bear stopped trying to shake the wolf loose. She bowed her head, trembling. Slowly the wolf released its grip and backed away. It was bleeding profusely from deep gashes in its side. Neither creature seemed to have won the battle, but miraculously, it was over.

  With one more glance at the wolf, the grizzly walked past Rachel and over to her cub. Both of them padded away as the wolf gazed after them. It was as if they’d agreed to disagree and end the fight.

  But the wolf had paid a high price for interfering. Blood soaked its black coat. Its flanks heaved as it watched the bear and cub move out of the area. Rachel couldn’t get her mind around what had just happened. Why had one wild creature rushed in to protect her from another?

  Perhaps the wolf wasn’t wild, after all. Although keeping a wolf was illegal, not everyone in Polecat followed the rules. This animal had instinctively tried to save her from the bear, and she needed to make sure it would be okay.

  Her cell phone chimed. Probably Otis, worried sick. Keeping her attention on the wolf, she pulled the phone out, turned it off, and returned it to her pocket. Then she spoke to the wolf as she might to a faithful dog. “You’re hurt.” She stretched out her hand. “Come. Let me help.”

  The wolf swung its broad head in her direction and stared at her with green eyes that looked disturbingly familiar. Those eyes were filled with pain, but there was intelligence lurking there, too. The wolf seemed to be considering whether to come closer. Seconds passed. Then it turned and walked away on unsteady legs.

  “Wait! Don’t leave! Please!” Hurrying after the wolf, she managed to get in front of it. The poor thing couldn’t move very fast, and it paused, panting from the effort of walking. It had no collar, of course. Anyone who was daring enough to keep a wolf around wouldn’t want to be identified as the owner.

  She couldn’t even be sure the wolf belonged to someone. It might have been domesticated and then abandoned. Whatever its story, her life had been spared because this animal had come to her rescue. She wasn’t about to let it wander off into the forest, where anything might happen.

  Those wounds could get infected. The brave creature could die in agony after throwing itself into harm’s way for her sake. “You’re coming with me.” Reaching out, she grabbed hold of the wolf’s ruff. “You need help, and I can provide it.”

  The animal stiffened.

  For one heart-stopping moment, she wondered if it would turn on her. That made no sense considering its former protective behavior, but the moment she closed her fingers around that silky black fur, she knew this was no docile house pet.

  The wolf controlled its own destiny, although that ability had been compromised by lethal claws that had dug deep. When the wolf staggered, Rachel exerted gentle pressure on its ruff and managed to change its direction.

  “This way,” she said softly. “Come with me. I’ll tend your wounds, and when you’re better, I’ll let you go. I’m not going to hold you prisoner. That would be a poor payback for what you did. But I won’t let you die from these wounds, either.”

  She kept her grip on the wolf’s ruff all the way back to her cabin. Twice the creature faltered, which told her just how injured it was. And this was her wolf. She’d carved the image so often that she knew it by heart. Here was an animal built for grace and coordination, but it was not moving gracefully now.

  “You gave me a career,” she murmured as they navigated the three steps to her back deck. “And you saved my life. I would be an ungrateful person if I didn’t take care of you now.” Crossing the deck, she opened the wrought-iron screen door.

  She’d left the reinforced storm door open to catch a breeze off the lake. She hadn’t thought of a bear coming in, but she should have. The screen door wouldn’t stop a bear. She’d allowed herself to get complacent and careless, and the wolf had paid the price.

  Once inside, she led him straight into her bedroom. “Stay right there. I’ll make you a spot to lie down.” Pulling the quilt from her bed, she folded it into a large square and placed it in a corner of the room. The wolf might get blood on it, but she didn’t care.

  After creating a bed for the wolf, she guided the animal over to rest. Its resistance to her commands was fading as its stamina ebbed. Sinking down to the makeshift bed and lying on the side that hadn’t been injured, it closed its green eyes, which had become dull and lifeless.

  “I’ll make you well.” Crouching down, she caressed the large head and once more was amazed at the silky texture of its fur. Then again, she’d never touched a wolf before. Maybe they all felt like that.

  Leaving the bedroom, she made sure the doors and windows were closed and locked to keep the wolf in and the bears out. Then she collected the supplies she’d need—towels, washcloths, a basin of warm water, antiseptic, and gauze. She also grabbed a prescription liquid antibiotic. It was the first time in a long while she was grateful for her internship with the vet.

  Polecat was so far from the nearest medical facility that she’d talked a doctor friend into letting her keep an antibiotic on hand for times when she needed it and the roads were closed. If she could get some of that down the wolf’s throat, so much the better.

  When she returned, the wolf lay motionless except for its heaving flanks. Correction, his flanks. She confirmed what she’d assumed was true, that she was dealing with a male wolf.

  She used towels and gentle pressure on his wounds until the bleeding stopped. Now to see if she could get some of the antibiotic into him. Filling the eyedropper with the liquid, she sank to her knees and wondered if this was the craziest thing she’d ever done. If she tried to give him the medicine and he mangled her hand, he could ruin her career.

  But without this wolf, her career wouldn’t have started in the first place. She leaned down and touched his muzzle. “I want you to swallow this. It will fight any potential infection from those claws.”

  The green eyes opened. She had the oddest sensation that he understood exactly what she’d said. Silly, of course. He was a wolf, and he might understand intonations, but he wouldn’t know the meaning of the words.

  “I’m going to ease open your jaws and squirt this in. I want you to swallow it.” She talked to him as if he had a full command of the language, which helped her deal with the surreal nature of this moment. A wild wolf was about to spend the night in her bedroom.

  Whether the wolf understood her intentions or not, he didn’t object when she pried his powerful jaws apart and squirted the antibiotic into the back of his throat. He gagged a little, but he didn’t bite or snarl. He just swallowed as instructed, like a good dog.

  Rachel sat back on her heels and took a deep breath. “Okay. That was a start. Now I need to clean your wounds, and that’s going to hurt. But if I don’t, you’ll run the risk of infection. The antibiotic will help, but I want to cover all the bases.”

  The wolf sighed and closed
his eyes. Once again, she suspected he had lived in someone’s home because he was so comfortable inside a house. Maybe he was a wolf hybrid. In any case, she’d be careful about broadcasting his presence until she had a better idea of where he might belong.

  Lionel was scheduled to come over in the morning, and he might know something about this wolf. If not, he’d keep quiet if she asked him to. He might refuse to buy her chocolate candy, but he wouldn’t betray a confidence.

  If Lionel knew nothing, she might ask Ted if he’d heard of anyone domesticating a wolf or keeping a hybrid. No, maybe not Ted. He could get gabby. She’d be careful what she said to him. In any case, this wasn’t the time to nail fliers to telephone poles or post an update on Facebook.

  No telling what sort of wildlife regulations she was flaunting by having this creature in her house. But he’d protected her and she’d return the favor. If it weren’t for all her traveling, she would consider keeping him if he seemed willing to stay. It might mean breaking a law, perhaps, but having a constant source of inspiration for her carving would be very cool.

  Impractical, though. She was away so much that keeping an animal would be unfair. Besides, this one was far too magnificent to be at some human’s beck and call. He might have been tame once, but if he’d returned to the wild, she wouldn’t dream of taking away his freedom. Come to think of it, he probably wouldn’t let her.

  Chapter 3

  If Jake could have dragged himself away from Rachel after the fight with the bear, he would have done it. But tangling with the grizzly had taken its toll, and he’d been dazed by the encounter and in shock from loss of blood. Shifting into human form would have helped because a shift always aided the healing process. It was one of the benefits of being Were.

  But he hadn’t been able to retreat into the forest to accomplish that before Rachel had grabbed a fistful of fur. In his weakened state, he’d allowed her to guide him into her house. Now, in the confines of her bedroom, he really couldn’t shift.