Huntress Bound

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

My earlier brain freeze fled as soon as Sebastien’s aroma stopped flooding my nostrils. Left to my own devices, connections formed and plans coalesced at the speed of light.

Because Derek had been right—the thumb-drive data had somehow drawn unpleasantness down onto this quiet suburban neighborhood far more quickly than I would have expected. Later, I’d analyze the why and the how of that problem. For now, though, I needed to fix my mistake before strangers pressed their way inside and harmed Sebastien because of something that was my own darn fault.

The thumb drive itself was toast...or at least so I hoped. But I flushed the small rectangle of plastic and metal down the toilet anyway before turning to the computer, which was larger and much more of a problem than the data’s original source. Good thing I had a high-level hacker on my team and a phone with which to bring said personage on board.

Dialing Dad’s number with the tap of a finger, I strained my ears and guessed at Sebastien’s movements in the neighboring room. Sure enough, my mate was grumbling about high-handed, n***d women who thought their every wish was his command. And yet, his footsteps headed toward the front door rather than trailing along in my wake, proving that my wolf had chosen well. Sebastien was able to squash his ego and follow orders in a crisis—definitely a keeper.

Then Dad picked up, reminding me that I had more important matters to attend to than mooning over my newfound mate. “Ember,” my father greeted me succinctly. And only then did I realize that it was six o’clock on a Sunday morning...way too early to call given the fact that my parents had spent the previous evening driving my sister-in-law’s family back toward the protective bosom of the Haven clan. Nonetheless, Dad sounded just as calm and thoughtful as ever, his breathing steady as he waited for me to speak.

“No time to talk,” I whispered, trying to decide whether to pull on clothes and brush my disreputable-looking hair. Nope—I’d be better off sticking to the body of my wolf when I made my escape. “But I need a way to fry a laptop as quickly as possible,” I continued. “Bonus points if it looks accidental.”

“Magnets?” Dad asked simply. “Heat would take too long. Acids? Solvents? What do you have on hand?”

“None of the above.” I frowned, pawing through Sebastien’s bureau in an attempt to find something that might manage to save the day. A pair of knee-high socks looked handy for tying the cell phone around my neck so I could take Derek’s data along with me in lupine form. But besides a spot to stash my other belongings out of sight, the dresser drawers proved far less helpful than I would have liked.

Then my eyes lit on the drill sitting beside Sebastien’s half-finished sculpture. What if the professor had been carving at his desk when his hand slipped? Would a few well-placed holes be enough to ensure none of Derek’s data remained behind on the laptop’s drive?

I only realized I’d spoken aloud, when Dad hummed agreement. “Good idea. Is it a solid-state drive? Look through the vent hole to find out.”

Together, we spent thirty agonizingly long seconds determining that, yes, the drive was small enough to be damaged by drilling. Then, as the distant sound of banter carried from the now-open front door, I turned off my phone and got down to work.

To a wolf, the high-pitched whine of the drill was both obvious and irritating. But the invaders didn’t seem to notice. Instead, they began with polite requests, moved on to cajolery, then transitioned into officious commands in an attempt to invite themselves deeper into my mate’s abode.

Through everything, Sebastien remained firm. His voice was clear and level as he asked which agency the invaders were employed by, demanded to see the agents’ identification, then threatened to call a lawyer to back up his constitutional rights. Clever mate, my wolf whispered. And even though I shushed her in my haste to ruin Sebastien’s computer, I couldn’t help but agree.

At long last, though, the professor caved and let the invaders inside. It would have looked suspicious not to. I just hoped the ninety seconds he’d bought for the sake of demolition turned out to be enough.

Time to go, I decided. Still, I wasted another scant moment covering my trail. Sprinkling sawdust around the damaged laptop, I laid down the drill and slipped the cell phone into its makeshift sock collar. Then, at long last, I relaxed into the body of my waiting wolf.

***

OR AT LEAST I TRIED to. Shifts usually came quickly and easily, but my inner beast was tired from our recent transformation and confused by the knowledge that we’d soon be running away from—rather than toward—our chosen mate. So she resisted the pull for several long seconds while voices grew louder and closer on the opposite side of the door.

“We protect him better by going rather than by staying,” I whispered too softly for a human to hear, all the while eying the thin barrier that stood between me and Sebastien’s uninvited guests. Was it just my imagination, or were the scents seeping underneath rife with a confusing array of emotions and mysteries? Was there an undercurrent of shared understanding present that I wouldn’t have expected from my innocent mate?

“It’s bad news for Sebastien if they find us here,” I elaborated, brushing aside my own doubts and debating jumping out the window in my unclad human skin. I could hear agents outside as well as inside, though, and doubted they’d respond well to a n***d human streaking through Sebastien’s backyard. We needed to shift if we wanted to escape.

We can’t leave our mate here alone, my inner beast complained, planting her incorporeal feet and refusing to budge.

Then, as if he’d felt my wolf’s stubbornness, Sebastien’s voice carried through the door and into our ears. “No, I’m entirely alone,” he said just a little more loudly than was truly necessary. I could imagine his hand on the knob, could see the orb turning ever so slightly on the inside.

And, at long last, my inner beast caved. If Sebastien expected her to go, then she’d go...although she refused to be happy about the eviction.

Our shift was more painful than usual as a result of her sullenness, the quiet snaps of breaking and reforming bones sounding like gunfire to my oversensitive ears. But soon enough we were four-legged and unencumbered save for the precious cell phone. At last, we could make good on our escape.

Taking a running leap, I dove through the window seconds before the creak of the bedroom door carried toward me through the cool morning air. Out of the corner of one eye, I caught sight of two additional humans standing guard on the house’s back deck. But neither set of invaders saw me. In fur form, I was simply too fast.

Then I’d ducked beneath a hedge, loped across a neighbor’s yard, and wriggled beneath porch girders. Finally, I settled my belly down against the cool earth, safely out of sight.