“The Were Law states I am to hand over any werewolf accused of murdering another werewolf.”
“The Were Law also states any Assassins crossing into your territory have to be granted permission before doing so,” Damon countered.
“So when this shit blows back, my defense should be, ‘They started it.’” Barrett shot him a glare.
Damon gave him a toothy grin. “Always works for me.”
CHAPTER THREE
Kate clutched the baseball bat in her sweaty palm and eased the front door open. She had tried to ignore the soft whimpering coming from outside, but her heart tugged with pity for whatever creature might be freezing to death in the snowstorm that had come out of nowhere.
She had glanced outside the window, but the only thing she saw moving was the steady stream of falling flakes blanketing the ground.
The door creaked. She winced and wondered why she’d never noticed the door making such a loud sound before. She mentally made a note to get some oil next time she was in town.
She flipped on the porch light and hoisted her wooden weapon in the air, ready to swing at anything that attacked.
Nothing leaped from the bushes, nothing barreled out from the woods, nothing snatched her from the porch.
She heaved out a relieved breath. “That was anti-climactic. Pretty much like my ex.” She lowered the bat, an idiotic giggle slipping past her lips.
Another soft whine sliced through the winter night, sending chills sprinting up her back. She gripped the bat in both hands, glancing from one end of the porch to the other. Still, she saw nothing.
Another whimper drifted out into the night. She stood still, trying to figure out where the noise was coming from. She took a step and froze.
“Who am I kidding? I know how this shit turns out in the movies. The blonde girl, who is all alone in the house, always gets killed first.” She turned, ran into the house, and locked the door. Bat in hand, she went from room to room, making sure her windows and doors were all locked. After making sure the house was secured and no one could get in, she eased toward the living room window and peered out.
She heard the pitiful whimper again. It sounded very much like a dog.
It wasn’t unusual for dogs to get hit by cars in this area. Irresponsible people tended to let their animals have free run, and sometimes the unthinkable happened.
She shook her head and headed to the door. She grabbed the bat, just in case Fido decided to snap at her.
She walked out on the porch and edged closer to the steps. She stopped in her tracks and gasped. Her muscles iced over, refusing to move.
Sprawled on the steps was the largest gray wolf she had ever seen.
“Holy sh…”
The wolf let out a pitiful whimper and opened its eyes.
Its eyes were the color of gathering storm clouds, gray and dangerous, and the fur along its upper legs had varied colors of blue and gray, unlike the rest of its body that was a solid grey.
The wolf blinked and closed its eyes, panting out each labored breath.
Sadness stung her heart. There was something familiar, something almost human-like in the animal’s expression before he shut his eyes. She set the bat on the nearest wicker rocker and eased closer.
“Come on, buddy. Don’t die.” Kate reached a tentative hand out and waited for the wolf to open his eyes, sniff her, and growl.
He didn’t move.
“I’m going to touch you, okay?” She shook her head and groaned. She wasn’t sure why she was talking to the wolf. It wasn’t like he could understand her.
Her fingertips dipped into the thickness of his fur. She expected it to be coarse like horse hair, but instead it was silky and soft.
She kept her eyes on his face while her fingers explored his strong body, feeling for broken bones and wounds. She had seen wolves in the mountains, but she’d never seen any this large.
Her fingertips dipped into something warm and sticky. Her gut tightened when she pulled back blood-tinged fingers.
“I’ll be right back.” She hurried into the house and retrieved some towels and her cell phone. Kneeling down by the wolf, she pressed a white towel against the wound.
The wolf whimpered and opened his eyes.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to stop the bleeding.” She firmly pressed the towel against the wound. This time he didn’t budge, but his gaze never left her face.
She held out her hand for him to sniff. He strained forward and nuzzled her fingertips.
“You’re very loving, aren’t you? I bet you’ve got all the female wolves after you.”
The wolf opened its mouth. Its tongue lolled out to the side, its lips curling over its teeth as if it were smiling.
She snorted. That was impossible. Wolves didn’t smile.
***