A Mate's Forgiving Touch Page 7

  Pausing, Connor leaned against a support post. Locking down the wolf’s aggression in a tight ball, he stuffed it into a far corner of his mind. He would give Brian the benefit of the doubt. For now. “So, I’ll get that tile laid today, unless you need me somewhere else?”

  The tape measure rattled back into its holder, and Brian tucked it into his work belt. He turned, scent shifting from nervous to determined, and Connor had to admire his courage. “Upstairs will be fine.” He removed his Fear the Yellow Jackets ball cap to scratch his head. Twisting the brim of the cap between his hands, he scuffed the toe of his boot through the thin layer of sawdust on the floor. The man had something to get off his chest. Connor just hoped he managed it before lunchtime.

  “Talk to me, Brian.” He pitched his voice low, using a fraction of the command he’d laid on Dale.

  “You and Bailey….”

  The wolf snapped to attention at the mention of his mate, but Connor gave it a mental shove back.

  “Is that a problem for you?” Brian could suck it if it was, but he would hear him out.

  “She’s a good girl. I remember when Don brought her home. I’d just hired on with the company, and she went everywhere with him. Those big blue eyes of hers.” Brian chuckled. “She was always into everything, clambering around, running about. Don tried hard to keep her pretty, but she always had dirt under her nails, a smudge on her cheek.” Real warmth colored his tone, and Connor relaxed. “The trouble didn’t really start until high school. The girls hated her, the boys wanted her, and she didn’t have time for any of them. She got in so much trouble, Don ended up homeschooling her.” Brian sighed and shook his head. “Stuck her in the corner of his office. When she wasn’t learning, she was working. Never seemed right to me, but what do I know?”

  Connor’s heart ached for the lonely child his mate had been. Even when they’d left the pack, he and his siblings had their parents to teach them how to control the otherness within. They’d hunted together, run together, fought, and wrestled together under Stefan and Marjorie’s loving supervision. Even so, there had been times when he’d feared the wolf would seize control and not give it back. Without his dad? Shit, it didn’t bear thinking about. “She’s mine, now, Brian. Mine to protect, to love and cherish. Bailey won’t ever be alone again.”

  The older man nodded, smoothed his hair back away from his face, and replaced his cap. “That’s all I wanted to know. I’d better check on Tommy. He’s always been Dale’s shadow, so I need to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid with that misguided loyalty of his.” Brian hesitated on his way out of the room. “Don’t think this is the last we’ve heard from Dale. He’s a mean-spirited son of a bitch. He’ll run straight to his daddy.” A whiff of fear rose from him. “Anthony Vaughn is an evil bastard. You watch your back.”

  He scuffed out of the room, leaving Connor to climb the temporary staircase to the upper level. Whatever threat Dale or his father might pose, he would handle it. His mate was in his keeping now, and nothing would threaten her safety.

  Picking up his tools, he turned his mind to the job in hand. Some hard work would settle the wolf for a while, but he needed to run. The full moon called to all her wolves, and it would be good to feel the soft light of the Mother on his fur tonight.

  His body ached after working in the confines of the shower stall, and the wolf gnawed on the last shreds of his control. He’d promised to be home before dark to help Bailey with her shift. She still clung stubbornly to the myth she could only shift at full moon, had resisted his efforts to persuade her to try before then. Knuckling the small of his back, he rolled his shoulders back, stretching his tight muscles. Shifting could be painful enough without the added fun of a charley horse.

  He tidied away his tools, stowing them in the panniers of his motorcycle. A few more stretches and twists cleared the last few kinks from his muscles. Reaching for his helmet, he changed his mind, digging his phone out of his pocket instead. He pressed the option for her mobile then recalled the shattered pieces of her handset and the cuts in her palm and scrolled down to her private landline. The ring tone switched to voice mail, and he smiled when her sexy voice rasped in his ear. This is Bailey. Leave a message.

  “Hey, lover. I know I said I’d be home, but I’ve been thinking. You don’t need my help. You are a proud, capable wolf, and I have every confidence in you. I’ll be in the clearing. Can’t wait to see you.” He lowered his voice to a growl. “I know you’ll be beautiful.”

  He left the bike tucked well out of sight, using a couple of loose branches to further conceal it. Stripping quickly, he stowed his clothing in a waterproof bag, tucking it beneath the chassis of the bike.

  A quick stroll took him far enough to dampen the harsh smell of hot metal and gasoline. He dropped to his hands and knees. Wolf stirring close beneath his skin, he pushed the stresses of the day away and catalogued each of his senses. It was an exercise his father had taught him years ago—one he had shared with Bailey on their walk through the woods behind her house. Her tendency to impatience was another factor holding her back from connecting with her wolf. Now he understood a little more about her upbringing, it started to make sense. She’d been raised to succeed, and her father viewed the wolf inside Bailey as the ultimate failure.

  A desperate yearning for his own family filled his heart. The solid reassurance of his father, the boundless love of his mother. Caitlyn. His twin, the other half of him. Light to his darkness, kind and forgiving, where he was too often hard and stubborn. He’d wronged her. Held her responsible for the guilt that ate him up, instead of placing it where it belonged—on Magnum’s rotten shoulders.

  Worse still, he’d tried to come between her and Ven, her mate. Not out of true concern, he realized now. He hadn’t wanted Caitlyn to be with anyone in case she got hurt again. Because he wouldn’t be able to handle it. I am such an asshole.

  Straightening his shoulders, Connor absorbed the massive punch to his ego. His bad. It was time to go home. Time to take Bailey home, build a new life with her. Start to rebuild the bridges he’d burned with his family. The wolf’s fur brushed close beneath his skin, offering comfort. A hard run would do them both good.

  The damp ground beneath his knees yielded the smell of freshly crushed grass. Something stirred in a bush nearby, he tilted his head. Squirrel. Birds chirped the first few notes of their evensong, giving thanks for the day and calling their flocks to roost.

  His vision shifted first, the pale wash of dusk sharpening to his wolf’s altered perception. Grounding himself in his environment brought awareness of his place within it. The connection to nature drew forth the wolf, and he let it come in a rush of agony and joy. Turning his muzzle into the wind, the gray wolf tested the air, filtering the scents overlaying his own from his last trip through the area. Satisfied no other predator had trespassed on his temporary territory, the wolf loped off into the trees.

  Dusk settled, spreading shadows through the thick undergrowth. The lessening light provided the wolf a hundred opportunities to blend into his environment. An unnatural silence fell over the woods, ruffling the wolf’s senses. At first he’d assumed it a response to his presence, but nature embraced all its wonders—predator and prey alike. He was part of the environment, part of the cycle of life and death. This was different, a child holding its breath so the nightmare wouldn’t find it.

  Tossing his head back, Connor loosed a howl of challenge. He would not be cowed. He would protect and defend. He was the wolf.

  Chapter Nine

  The day flew past as Bailey ran around town, trying to unravel the damage to her reputation. Dale had taken advantage of her trust at every possible turn. A face to face with Mac over lunch brought some uncomfortable chickens home to roost. Trying to prove her worth when taking over the business, combined with the natural aggression of her shackled wolf, had made her unapproachable. She’d cut herself off from the contacts she’d made, giving her foreman the opportunity to a
buse her reputation for his own gain. Gina was going to comb through all the contracts for the past twelve months, but it would take time.

  She’d kept herself busy, pushing aside the ugly confrontation with her father. If she thought about it, the pain would disable her. Bailey clenched her hands on the steering wheel and focused on keeping her car on the road. Connor would be home by the time she got there and then they could leave, get out of town, away from the impending threat of the hunters. Once she knew he was safe, she’d be able to think about her father’s confession.

  No. Donald was not her father. He was a monster, a murderer, or as good as. Don’t think about it! She couldn’t fall apart until Connor had his strong arms around her. She would mourn the death of her parents, and then he’d help her plot her revenge.

  Bailey abandoned her car more than parked it, and spilled out of the driver’s door. She scanned the driveway, searching frantically for the familiar shape of Connor’s bike. The faint sound of the phone ringing in her office sent her charging through the door and up the stairs. His familiar voice drifted through the air “Hey, lover….”

  She snatched up the handset, jabbed her finger on the redial key, and prayed. The phone rang once, clicked, and an automated message told her to leave a message. Shit! Engines hummed and she ran to the window to see a small convoy of vehicles approaching the house. She’d run out of time.

  “Bailey! Get down here.”

  She retraced her steps to the ground floor, a low growl building in her throat. Distracted by her worry for Connor, she didn’t catch the rank scent of gun oil until it was too late. Donald stood in her hallway, a gun aimed squarely at her. “They’re here. Get in the basement before anyone sees you.”

  The wild look in his eye worried her, and she forced herself to keep calm. “I can’t do that.”

  He brandished the gun in her face. “If you don’t get down there, you’ll be dead. I’ll kill you myself before I let Anthony get his hands on you.” Tears glinted in his eyes. “I can’t lose you, Bailey. Please, just do as I tell you.”

  Too late, old man. You already have. Her only chance to help Connor lay in cooperating, for now. Lowering her head, she tried to force a contrite tone to her voice. “Okay, Father. I’ll go down there, but please don’t lock me in. If they come for me, I need a chance to escape. At least give me that.”

  “Fine.” He gestured to the hallway, and she inched past him, keeping clear of the gun. The door to the basement stood open, and she hesitated. All her worst nightmares dwelled in that dark space. The doorbell rang, startling them both. He poked her in the back with the gun. “Go on, and for fuck’s sake, keep quiet.”

  The full moon sang in her veins, but the wolf was silent. She didn’t have time for this. She needed to find Connor and warn him. Scuffing sounds and muffled laughter drifted down from overhead, distracting her further. Pushing aside those worries for now, she focused on the real problem—her mate was waiting for her in the clearing, completely oblivious to the threat to him. And she was stuck in this goddamn basement.

  Sweat dripped from her brow as Bailey strained again to reach her wolf. The bare concrete beneath her hands and knees so cold, it burned against her skin. The single overhead bulb barely lit the dusty space, casting shadows over the bits of old furniture, broken toys, and other family detritus accumulated over the years.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, begging her wolf to come forward. The space in her soul where her other half should be remained empty, and she sobbed in frustration. You are a proud, capable wolf, and I have every confidence in you. His voice mail message mocked her.

  A broken, failed freak more like. Sitting back on her heels, she dashed the tears from her eyes. The moon’s call pulled harder. She wanted to claw her belly open and drag the wolf out. Her joints ached from the cold floor beneath her feet, and understanding struck like a bolt of lightning. Why would my wolf want to come out and sit in this prison?

  The noises overhead increased. She was running out of time. The party her father had been forced to host was winding up, and she could hear the men gathering near the front door, keen to move on to the real purpose of their meeting.

  Ignoring her clothes folded on the floor, she sprinted up the steps leading from the basement to her part of the house and slipped out the side door. Ducking low, she ran for the trees, arrowing away from the house to ensure no one who happened to glance out would see her. It was near dark, but she couldn’t risk getting caught. Connor was out there somewhere, and he had no idea about the looming threat.

  He’d tried to persuade her to run with him a few nights before, but she’d been too shy about trying to shift in front of him. No matter how often he told her she could shift at will, her brain refused to accept it. The little girl buried deep still wanted to please her daddy—if she changed, he would call her a bad girl.

  A twig cracked beneath her foot, shattering the still air, sending her leaping in the other direction. Fuck! I’ll never shift if I don’t calm the hell down. She jogged farther into the trees, waiting until the last glimpse of light from the house disappeared from view.

  Now she knew what to listen for, the forest came alive around her. Ignoring the urgency pressing down upon her, she slowed to a walk, cataloguing everything around her. The twisted branches overhead thinned out, revealing the cloudless evening sky and the fecund disc of the moon. Moving into the gap in the trees, Bailey closed her eyes, accepting the benediction of the Mother on her shoulders. She thought about the lessons Connor had shown her, but decided to try something different.

  Self-loathing had been her watchword for too long. A new life awaited her, full of passion and excitement with a man who truly loved her. She’d said the words, accepted him as her mate on an intellectual level, but her fear of disappointing him—the way she had disappointed her father her whole life—had held her back. Now she needed to open her heart to him.

  His scent came to her first, tangy citrus and dark musk. She could feel it like a thin layer of silk, coating her skin, melding with her own fragrance to create something uniquely them. The recollection of his massive body covering her slight frame filled her with sensation. The slick slide of sweat against sweat, the slap of flesh against flesh, the liquid heat of their combined release. Panting breaths, soft laughter, sweet moans of pleasure, she drew them all into her soul.

  Here was a love to last the ages. Here was a love to sustain them both through the hardest of times. Mate. The wolf’s voice whispered in her head. Yes, our mate. He needs us. Help me.

  One heartbeat. Two.

  She held her breath, desperate to reach out to her wolf, terrified she would slip away again. A whisper of fur beneath her skin. Dropping to her knees, she brushed her fingers through the long grass. The tickle of the blades provided a much-needed distraction, a point of focus while she waited for the wolf to choose.

  Long have you denied me.

  The accusation brought tears to her eyes.

  I’m sorry. There was nothing else she could say. She could only hope the wolf believed her.

  Awareness swelled, filled her up, stretching her skin to its limits then beyond. Fire rolled through her, scouring the last of her long-held doubts and fears. Bones snapped, sinews twisted. She fell on her side as her body tried to turn inside out. The shift seemed to take forever, and there were moments she feared she would be stuck partway in a macabre echo of her previously mismatched eyes. Fighting back her terror, Bailey surrendered to the wolf completely for the first time. A final rush of jet-black fur, and the pain faded.

  The wolf lay on her side, panting hard. She would bite her foolish, stubborn human if it were possible. All this time, all the years wasted when they could have been living as nature intended.

  The female scrabbled in the back of her mind, panicking at the loss of control, but the wolf ignored her. She would not be caged again. Casting off the last of the effects of her prolonged sleep, she loped into the trees. Their mate was w
aiting and unaware of the danger to come.

  The ground flew beneath her paws, long-abused muscles warmed and stretched. She increased her pace, flowing through the trees like a twist of black silk floating on the breeze. A spine-chilling howl split the air, sending the she-wolf diving for cover in the undergrowth. She hunkered down testing the air, seeking the threat. No trace of man lingered, only the fresh, compelling scent of her mate. Close.

  Pouring on strength, she leaped to her feet—nothing would keep her from him. Breathless from exertion, she burst into the clearing. The sight of her mate pulled her up short. Magnificent.

  His thick gray pelt seemed to absorb the faint light from the moon and stars overhead. He blended seamlessly with the night, apart from his bright-golden eyes shining in the darkness. She lowered to her belly, inching forward through the grass. The sheer level of his dominance shook her. Their human halves were evenly matched in attitude and confidence, and the she-wolf had expected them to be alike in this form.

  A whimper escaped her throat. Her mate approached, pressing his muzzle to the top of her head when she would have rolled to offer her throat. Uncertain what to do, she remained still while he lay beside her. He licked her muzzle in greeting, and she lifted her head a few inches. Their eyes met.

  How is that even possible? She had all the instincts of a wolf, but no socialization, no comprehension of expected behaviors. He held her gaze, and something itched in the back of her mind. Not her human awareness, something else.

  You are prettier than I ever imagined, my mate. The voice of the gray wolf reverberated in her brain. She ducked her head, shy in the face of his admiration. Her awareness of her mate shifted as he spoke again, the intonation different. I’m so proud of you, Bailey.

  Connor. A tumult of emotions spilled through the she-wolf. They knew this man, knew him and loved him. The balance between the wolf and the man fascinated her, and she longed to know how they achieved it. She could sense her human pressing forward, but feared yielding control would result in being caged in again. She whined, pressing close to her mate for reassurance.