A Wolf of Her Own Read online

  Philippa smiled grimly. "How about dead sheep?" Their surprised looks made her smile warm up. "Inside information. I’m dating Jasper Grayson."

  "Well…" Gemma looked as stumped as Kieran felt. The huge and brutal-looking Jasper didn’t strike as the most obvious boyfriend candidate for this tiny woman. "It’s very kind of you to take interest," she finally managed.

  The detective shrugged, clearly amused by their reaction. "Crimson Circle wants to have me here as much as you do. They’d already approached me and I contacted the local police when this request came through." Kieran wasn’t surprised. The ancient vampire organisation had their hands in everything. Besides, their sheep had been killed too.

  Philippa gestured for them to head to the main building, but Adrian didn’t follow them. "Such a fine Jag Mr Garret has. I’ll keep an eye on it, lest it gets stolen," he said, revealing that he was both smarter than Kieran had taken him for, and American, his accent noticeable.

  "Local humans are seldom as able to understand the two-natured, let alone Americans," Kieran noted to Philippa as they entered the building. Ever since sentients had been exiled to Americas after the Sentient War, they had kept humans there in the dark about two-natured matters.

  Philippa grinned. "He’s a fast learner." Well, he had to be if his superior was dating a Circle warrior. It was a matter of self-preservation.

  A row of monitors kept an eye on the premises at the country club security room. Had the security been more co-operative they would have had all the footage they needed. But the men were afraid of Kieran, which they tried to mask with blustering and making sexist remarks about the women. After only five minutes, Kieran was ready to tear their throats open.

  He was saved from committing a justifiable homicide by Philippa. After a particularly rude comment, she smiled slowly at the men and let her fangs slide down. A pungent smell of fear filled the room, aggravating in itself.

  "I wished you hadn’t done that," Gemma remarked casually. "I’ve had trouble keeping my—violence—in check today. Their fear excites me a bit too much."

  Kieran tensed, ready to intervene if needed. He didn’t know if he would be able to stop her Rider should it get free, but she needed to know that he would try. Then he noticed the deep dimple that had appeared on her cheek and he relaxed. She was only making fun of the men. At least it worked and the men kept silent. Just in case, he remained standing between her chair and the men.

  There were many cameras monitoring the parking lot and the driveway leading in, but for such a well-guarded place, they had done a curiously poor job of placing the cameras. Only a couple of them provided a good view inside cars as they drove in, and no view at all when they drove out. But the parking lot was well covered.

  They soon found the footage of the fight. He fast forwarded it, not wanting to distress Gemma unnecessarily, but she still tensed. He watched it with interest, trying to determine if he could have won like he had claimed, and he noticed Philippa nodding with approval too.

  When the floodlights ended the fight, they paid attention to which direction the wolves disappeared to and tracked the correct camera. It showed them running to a car and shifting, but they had been careful and there was no clear image of their faces. So they rewound the footage to the moment the men parked—three hours earlier. The men clearly knew where the cameras were, however, so surely they managed to avoid them. They had to trace the car’s journey backwards through the lot until it appeared in the camera that offered the best view. Philippa put the footage on pause.

  Gemma gasped. "It’s them. It’s the two men I met at Asda."

  Kieran leaned in to study to image closer. Then he growled. "And I know who they are."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Gemma’s heart jumped. "You do?"

  "Yeah." Kieran sounded angry. Apparently there was no love lost between him and the men. "And what’s best, I know where to find them."

  "Where?" Philippa demanded sharply. His anger didn’t faze her at all. Then again, if she could deal with a warrior as scary as Jasper Grayson, an angry wolf wouldn’t impress her.

  Gemma found Philippa intriguing. She had never met a vampire woman like her. Women of her kind were often old-fashioned in their manners, demure, and well-behaved—by necessity and for being subdued by a patriarchal society, unwilling or unable to change. Philippa had no compunction about going against that.

  "Never you mind that," Kieran said.

  Philippa growled, adding to Gemma’s admiration. The one time she had let her emotions show, her Rider had taken advantage. If she hadn’t fled indoors and kept to herself for hours, she might not have made it. The mere notion of what might have happened was enough to make her consider keeping away from Kieran and the emotions he caused for the rest of her life. An empty life would be easier to bear than the thought she would kill someone she loved.

  Her body went cold from the thought. Then hot, when the implication sank in.

  "I will not tolerate vigilante operations." Philippa’s tone was absolute.

  "It’s not your call." Kieran was wound up as it was. An argument wouldn’t help him to calm down, but he clearly wasn’t able or willing to step back. Not giving a thought to the emotional strain it might put on her, Gemma wrapped her arm around Kieran’s waist and pulled him towards her—or rather, scooted to him on her chair because he wouldn’t budge.

  His stomach muscles were taut under her hand, the contact not enough to do the trick this time, so she pressed her face into his chest. His cashmere knit was soft against her cheek and his scent was enticing. She wanted to stay there, breathing him in, but now wasn’t the time for it and this wasn’t the place.

  "Maybe we should discuss this later?" She kept the contact firm and gradually his tension eased. His wolf calmed too, though it wouldn’t retreat inside him.

  He leaned down and placed a kiss on her head. "Thanks." He sighed. "Yes, you’re right. We’ll discuss this once Jamie is present too."

  Philippa nodded and then arranged a print of the picture so they would have something to show to Jamie. "I may need the footage later too, so please don’t delete it just yet." The security agreed to this hastily, more than happy to get rid of them.

  Adrian wasn’t alone when they returned to the cars. Jasper was with him. Both men were leaning against the bonnet of Philippa’s car in identical, seemingly casual poses with their arms loosely crossed over their chests and a leg propped against the bumper. Gemma wasn’t fooled, and neither was Philippa.

  "Jas. Are you torturing Adrian again?"

  The warrior straightened up. He wasn’t actually taller than the other two men, but he was much bulkier so he seemed bigger. Even in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt, he was huge. He leaned over to give her a kiss, and then grinned, which transformed his face from scary to almost handsome. "No, I’m teaching the whelp some survival skills." The ’whelp’ rolled his eyes in response.

  Gemma and Kieran had paused a little away from the vampires. There was no need to risk hostilities again. "What are you thinking of with such a wistful look," he asked her, and she told him the truth.

  "I fear that I’ll be forever doomed to not experience the full range of emotions."

  He wrapped an arm around her. She cherished the contact even as she wanted to lean away from it. The more he touched her, the more difficult it became for her to stifle her emotions, good and bad. "I believe you feel strongly all the time without it affecting your control. You’re just not able to express it."

  "I came close to losing the Rider today."

  "Not when it mattered." His slow smile made her insides tighten in expectation. But then she sighed.

  "What if I had lost control when we had sex?"

  He took her face in his hands, holding it gently. "You didn’t, and I think the feeding made the difference."

  "Blood always helps," Jasper pitched in, his attention clearly not wholly on Philippa.

  Gemma turned to him. "Are you sure? Because what I’ve hea
rd, blood is what drives it on. As in, bloodlust?"

  "Ah, the good times—ouch." He rubbed his upper arm where Philippa had punched him. "I was only joking."

  Philippa shook her head, exasperated. "I love you dearly, but jokes really aren’t your strong point." She smiled at Gemma. "Blood only helps if it’s offered by someone you’re connected to. Jas here can put mine under control when needed."

  "You’re so tiny you’re easy enough to control without blood—ouch." He wrapped an arm around Philippa and, lifting her up, kissed her soundly on the lips. "Behave."

  He put her down and she glowered at him, trying to keep a smile from her face. "Was there a reason you suddenly showed up?"

  "As a matter of fact, there is," he said, sobering. "More sheep were killed last night. And this time it was on a human farm."

  ***

  Gemma knew the farm from her childhood, had seen the current owner, Mr Martin, age from his childhood into an octogenarian. But he didn’t recognise her when they drove to the yard in Philippa’s car and introduced themselves. Gemma didn’t wonder about it. Humans found it difficult to adjust to the idea that the young woman before them was the same young woman they had met when they were children.

  Only she, Philippa, and Adrian went to the farm. They split up a mile from it and Kieran and Jasper had headed to the meadow to check the traces before they would be messed up by humans. Philippa led their group, on the assumption that a police officer would be welcome.

  Quite a number of people were gathered around the old farmer, listening to him describe the carnage. Many of them were farmers too, though not all of them kept sheep, and their anger was mutual. It was all aimed at Philippa the moment she told them she was from the MET.

  "And what are you going to do about the shifters? This is an outrage," Mr Martin, by far the loudest, demanded.

  "Yeah. We’ve suffered them long enough. You have to tell them to go away."

  "Killers, one and all."

  Gemma wasn’t surprised by their anger, but she hadn’t expected such hostility. It was palpable, like a foulness in the air she could sense. She was glad Kieran wasn’t there.

  Philippa maintained her calm exterior. "Shifters aren’t killers any more than humans are. There are bad people among both."

  "The clan is protecting them. If they won’t get rid of the bad apples, we’ll get rid of the whole clan." With every angry comment, the atmosphere seemed to thicken. Gemma raised her shields, a precaution she hadn’t thought she would need.

  Philippa made a placating gesture. "I know it’s tempting to blame the Greenwood clan, but they’ve been here for centuries without touching any sheep."

  "That’s not true." Mr Martin spoke like a man who knew he was the authority among his neighbours. "My grandfather told me how in his childhood someone in the clan killed sheep. He was shot for his trouble."

  Gemma’s stomach tied into an upset knot. Colm. Mr Martin had to mean him, because apart from her mother’s, she wasn’t aware of other incidents where sheep were killed. It was definitely good Kieran wasn’t here. "It was a false accusation that time too. They shot the wrong man." She didn’t need the particulars to know it. "And shifters are human too. You can’t just go around shooting them." It was bad enough humans had hunted natural wolves to extinction.

  Philippa nodded. "We have a lead on the guilty party and the police are pursuing it as we speak. They’ll be caught soon."

  But it was as if the humans weren’t even listening. "One wolf is as good as the other. I say we march there and make them pay." Others nodded, agreeing with a farmer who didn’t keep sheep himself—he didn’t smell of farm animals of any kind.

  The air around the humans worsened with every hostile comment, becoming a bad taste in Gemma’s mouth. She upped her shields, but it helped only a little. An oily residue seemed to cling to her face and she made to brush it away before pleading with them again.

  "Losing sheep is horrible, but rushing headlong to revenge won’t help," she said, as calmly as she could. Her Rider was oddly tense inside her, not trying to push against its restraints. It was expectant, preparing for violence. Should the humans attack, she wouldn’t have any way of controlling it. She knew that with absolute certainty and it terrified her.

  "What do you know about it, a posh lass like you?"

  Apparently she was doomed to be always dressed wrong. "My sheep were killed too." That silenced the crowd. "I’m Gemma Byrd, Tom’s sister."

  "And you stand there all casual-like?" Mr Martin demanded incredulous. "Weren’t it your sheep that were killed the last time too? You of all people should be demanding they leave."

  Gemma’s entire body went cold. Their sheep had been killed only once and it hadn’t been done by wolf-shifters. "When was it?" Maybe there had been another incident she hadn’t been told about.

  "In 1893." He answered like he had memorised it.

  She felt sick. Mother. "I can assure you our sheep have never been killed by wolves."

  "Yes they were. My granddad told me he had been to see the carcasses. All torn into. What else could it have been but wolves?"

  Gemma pressed a hand tightly to her mouth to ward off the nausea. "Was the clan actually blamed for it?"

  "Who else could it have been? Anyway, the farmers formed a hunt."

  "And they killed someone?" Her bones threatened to turn liquid. It was her family’s fault Colm was dead.

  "Yes, a wolf found lurking just outside your property. And no sheep have been killed since."

  Of course they hadn’t. Her mother was dead too. As was the man who had protected him from her. How could she ever face Kieran again, knowing she was partly responsible?

  Philippa tried to veer the conversation back to the present. "We have a picture of the true killers. Perhaps you could take a look and see if you recognise them?" She took the picture out and the people gathered around her to look at it. They all shook their heads.

  "Doesn’t look like any wolves I’ve ever met."

  "That’s because they’re not local wolf-shifters. They’re here to cause trouble between us and the manor," Gemma explained. Keeping her mind on the matter at hand was the only way she was able to function.

  "And how do you know they’re the right ones?"

  Gemma sighed. It was as if the neighbours wilfully ignored the truth. "Because I smelt them." Blank stares met her. "Vampire sense of smell is far superior to human, you know."

  The humans all withdrew a little. It was subtle, but perceptible. Fear scented the air, adding to the foulness already there. Her shields were as tight as she could make them now, but it didn’t seem to help at all.

  "We don’t want your kind here," Mr Martin stated.

  Gemma wanted to cry, of disappointment and frustration. "I went to school with your grandmother, Mr Martin." She had been a human child once. "And my family has been friends with your family for a long time. We’re sheep farmers like you, and we’ve suffered at the hands of these strange wolves like you have. I deserve to be listened to as much as you do."

  Her words had no effect. If anything, they made the people angrier and they tightened their ranks. The air around them got so bad she was having trouble operating properly. She couldn’t breathe and she was starting to panic for no reason. She wanted to flee.

  "Very well," Philippa said, clearly judging it was no point continuing. "Here’s my number. Call me if you see the men in that picture."

  They returned to their car, all but fleeing, and drove off. Gemma turned to look through the rear window and saw the group in the yard staring after them. Their stances were hostile and she feared the worst.

  "That was really odd."

  Philippa frowned. "This is worse than merely odd. I have to warn the Circle immediately."

  "Forget the Circle. We have to go warn Jamie." Gemma had no doubt. Those humans would head to the manor and she needed to stop it. One clan member had already died because of her. She wouldn’t allow that to happen again.


  Chapter Seventeen

  Kieran and Jasper found the killing site easily. The pasture didn’t have a handy grove in which to hide the carcasses, so they were in plain sight in the middle of the meadow, ten in all.

  "They weren’t even pretending this is anything but a kill for a killing’s sake," Kieran said, disgusted. The ground around the sheep was red with blood, and a strong stench of intestines filled the air. "Shifters are like natural wolves in that we only kill what we eat." These wolves hadn’t even pretended to eat the sheep; they had just torn them open.

  Jas nodded. "This time they made sure the farmers will react. Come, let’s see where the fuckers went."

  "I’ll have to shift first." Kieran made to remove his blazer, but paused when Jas shook his head.

  "I wouldn’t do that." Kieran got his hackles up instantly and the vampire lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "You really don’t want there to be wolf tracks or smell that indicate your clan’s presence here. These people may well hire an outside tracker."

  "Don’t you think I smell enough like clan as it is?"

  "Oh, I think you stink to gods."

  "Hey!" The vampire just grinned and pointed for them to get on their way.

  The wolves—two males and a female—had left a clear trail for them to follow. It didn’t weave, didn’t try to fool the trackers, but cut a straight line across the countryside. After a few miles, it was pretty evident, too, where the track would lead.

  "Fuck. They really intend to stick this on our clan."

  "And should human police follow the trace with dogs, you would be blamed for it too. Luckily we have Philippa on it." Jas’s voice softened with pride. His emotion made sense, but Kieran was amazed that it belonged to such a fierce warrior.

  "Do you have anything like our call to pull couples together?"

  His question startled the warrior, probably the only thing that would. "Yeah. We have the Hunger. But it’s temporary and usually only the male vampires experience it. It’s meant to counter our violent tendencies."