A Howl for a Highlander (Heart of the Wolf #10)

A Howl for a Highlander (Heart of the Wolf #10) Page 44

“Nay. I can’t drive in this sand at all. They’re propelling us straight through it.”

“Should we jump from the car first, Duncan?” Shelley asked. “Before we get into the surf?”

“Nay. We go together. If we leave the vehicle, they’ll release a truck full of wolves, and we’ll be at a decided disadvantage.” He meant Shelley, not himself or Ethan.

“But it will be harder to get out of the car when it’s in the water,” she said, jerking off her clothes.

“Shelley.” His tone indicated that he didn’t agree and was full of dire warning.

“I’m shifting, and I’m getting out. Now.” Shelley gave him a small smile, kissed his cheek, and then shifted.

“I second that, lad,” Ethan said, still watching out the back window. He began stripping out of his clothes. “We’re better off standing our ground as wolves since we have nothing but our teeth to protect us.”

“Hell. I meant for Shelley to stay in the vehicle while you and I tackled the wolves, damn it.”

“If you think Shelley will stay in the car and watch us fight, you sure don’t know her very well.” Ethan grinned. “Maybe you should have learned a little more about her before you took her for your mate.”

Duncan glanced at Shelley, who was wagging her tail, looking eager to please and not in the least bit like a vicious wolf that could tear into a bunch of big males. He let out his breath and released the steering wheel, since he wasn’t doing much of anything anyway, and then reached over his mate to get the door and opened it for her. And prayed he wasn’t making the biggest mistake of his life.

She jumped out of the moving car, though with his foot pressing hard on the brakes, they were going slow enough for her to lunge safely onto the sandy beach.

Ethan jumped over the backseat into the front and bounded out of the car to join Shelley. Duncan hoped to God the guy in the truck behind them was a wolf, because otherwise… well, he guessed there was no otherwise. The guy was a dead man one way or another. Without a weapon and in human form, he wouldn’t have a lot of options. But for now, Duncan had to get out of the driver’s seat where he couldn’t easily yank off his clothes and shift. All he worried about, though, were Shelley and her uncle. He sure as hell wished Cearnach was here already.

The car still barreled toward the ocean, propelled by the bulldog of a truck behind it. Duncan was trying his damnedest to haul himself over the console in the compact car. For a man, it was hard to clear the steering wheel and slip over the blockade with any ease. Growling in frustration, he finally managed it, ripped off his clothes, and shifted. Cursing himself, Duncan jumped out of the vehicle as a wolf before the tires hit the first wave. He had to get word to Cearnach.

As soon as his paws hit the ankle-deep water, he saw the wolves. They must have gotten out of the truck while Duncan was busy removing his clothes and shifting. Three damn big males. When Duncan was out of the car, the driver of the truck stopped and opened his door. Duncan knew they’d have another wolf to face in short order. He raced up the beach and tore into the first of the wolves immediately.

Ethan had only been waiting for Duncan to join him, while the offending wolves seemed to be waiting for the driver of the truck, their alpha male. Ethan attacked the closest wolf to him. That meant Shelley had her own male wolf to tackle. Duncan felt cold chills race down his spine at the thought, especially since the driver would soon be joining his comrades in the fight.

The wolf he attacked was almost a golden color, an Arctic wolf who had somehow gotten himself mixed up with a gray pack. The wolf snarled at him, snapping his jaws and trying to get Duncan’s throat.

He heard the wolf growling and the enamel of Ethan’s and the enemy’s teeth making contact. He didn’t hear a peep out of Shelley. He couldn’t look to see where she was—not when the other wolf raced around the truck to aid his companions, then stopped and looked in the direction of the ocean.

Glancing that way, Duncan saw the one wolf chasing after Shelley. She was headed straight for the water. Damn it. The wolf he’d been fighting had paused to look, too. Then the truck driver raced out with the other wolf after Shelley. Damn it to hell.

He swung his head around, catching the wolf he’d been fighting by the neck, but he only tore the skin, nothing vital enough to fell the hefty wolf. The Arctic wolf screeched with fury and attempted to bite Duncan, who dodged out of the path of his snapping canines. He wanted desperately to go after Shelley. Ethan hadn’t made any headway with the gray wolf he was fighting, either.

Duncan couldn’t spend any more time looking to see what was happening to Shelley. His fight had to be with the wolf trying to take him down. He lunged again, only to clash with the white wolf’s teeth, missing his throat once again.

Shelley hadn’t been sure what to do, but she knew she couldn’t outfight the male wolf. When she saw the truck driver shifting, she was certain he’d come after her. Easier to kill a female and be done with it. She also figured she was their primary target so they’d think they might as well finish her off.

She was fast like a greyhound, her family had always said. She was swifter than the whole lot of the bulkier males. So she ran, not feeling cowardly in the least. Not when she would have been at such a disadvantage if she’d had to fight them. This way, she could draw two of the wolves off Duncan and her uncle until they were ready to tackle them.

She knew any of them could run as wolves for hours, although she didn’t have hours. Plus she was afraid that despite the dark, someone might see three wolves racing behind the lighted resort hotels on the beach, if they weren’t careful. Not that people would think they were wolves. They’d figure they were a pack of wild dogs.

She’d started to run into the ocean, but she didn’t believe paddling in the surf would help her. None of them would be able to fight well in the rolling waves, but they might be able to herd her back to shore and give her the killing blow. With their longer legs, they’d be on firm ground before she could manage. So she ran for the only refuge she could think of. At least she knew the Mastic Reserve fairly well. They probably had never been there.

With her greyhound speed, she flew across the sand and headed for the reserve, hoping she might save herself there. Then she had another thought: what if…

She glanced back at the wolves running after her, noticing that their heavier weight bogged down more in the sand. She had a much greater lead on them. If the forest didn’t work, she’d head to Sal’s place. As long as no one was there trying to kill him, maybe she could secure his protection. At least he was a male wolf and could aid her against the other two. He might even have guns in the house.

But what if Carlotta had sent men to his place also? What if he was already dead?

Cearnach and his brothers had one thing in common—they were all punctual. So when his flight arrived and there was no sign of Duncan but the smell of other male wolves permeated the airport terminal, Cearnach wasn’t about to hang around. He knew his brother was in trouble.

He called Ian to let him know what was happening as he headed for a waiting taxi. As late as it was, taxis were no problem, and he had the driver take him to the villa. Over the phone, Ian told Cearnach, “Duncan’s taken Shelley for his mate.”

Cearnach smiled. “I don’t believe it.”

“Believe it. Her uncles and mother are coming to live with us. Her Uncle Ethan’s there now, and he’ll be helping Duncan with any fight headed their way.”

“Aye, Ian. Good to know. Looks like I’m here. I’ll call you back as soon as I know something.”

When the taxi drove up into the drive, Cearnach saw no lights on in the place and no vehicle out front. As soon as he opened the taxi door, he heard wolves growling on the beach behind the villa. Adrenaline surging through his blood at racecourse speed, he hurried to pay the driver, slammed the door, and tossed his bag at the front porch. Then he ran full out around the back of the villa.

In wolf form, Duncan was fighting an Arctic wolf, while another male wolf fought a gray. Since the one was close to Duncan, he seemed to be on the same side. Was it Sal Silverman? No one else was here. Where was Shelley? He hoped she was in the house, safe from the fight. That’s when he saw the car in the surf and the truck with the driver’s side door open as it had been left, engine rumbling at the edge of the water.

Hell.

Thankful he’d arrived in time, Cearnach stripped out of his clothes and shifted. Then he ran straight for the wolf that Duncan was tackling. When Duncan saw him, a hint of relief shown in his eyes. He did the damnedest thing—turned his back on the wolf, which was a dangerous course of action, and ran north along the beach.

Duncan had to have gone after Shelley. Another wolf must be trying to run her down. Damn it. The white wolf didn’t go after Duncan because he’d seen Cearnach as a much bigger threat and turned to face him. Cearnach was fresh, hadn’t been fighting, and was ready for the kill.

As soon as he tackled the Arctic wolf, Cearnach recognized that the wolf was tired. Too bad. He had to help Ethan Campbell next so he quickly put the Arctic wolf down. Easy enough to do since Duncan had already worn the white wolf out and his stamina was spent.

Cearnach tore into the other enemy wolf, and with two against one, the wolf quickly collapsed, sucking in his final breath. Cearnach didn’t wait to see the wolves shift into their human form. He tore off after Duncan, hoping he found his brother before it was too late.

Ethan was loping close behind him, breathing hard and sounding a little out of shape. Cearnach would have expected that since he was older. He might not be used to fighting wolf to wolf. He had hoped Ethan would take care of the bodies while he helped Duncan. It wouldn’t do for anyone to run into a couple of chewed-up, naked men on the beach. Ethan seemed intent on helping him to save Shelley, though. Cearnach couldn’t blame him. Not since Shelley was the man’s niece.

As soon as they took care of these wolves, Cearnach would deal with Sal. With no one watching his back any longer, the man would give up their money or else. Problem was, he would still have to die. So there wasn’t much of an incentive for him to give up the money… or else.