Read Online Haunted Wolves: Green Pines, Book 2 by Moira Rogers - Free Book Online
Authors: Moira Rogers
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the mound on the mattress was made up of blankets. A starving wolf was a danger to everyone around them. A crazed, starving wolf—
And she was crazed. Wild curly hair poked out from beneath the blanket, followed by dark brown eyes that focused on empty air instead of Lorelei. “I told you, girl. I ain’t riding no motorcycle.”
“Okay,” she agreed, as if the statement had made sense. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a small Thermos. “I brought you some coffee, Boz. The real kind.”
Boz surged up and wrapped both shaking hands around the Thermos. “Just coffee, no arsenic?” She laughed as if she’d made a wonderful joke, but the sharp-edged sound cut off abruptly when her gaze fell on Colin. She frowned and tilted her head to such an extreme angle that his neck ached in sympathy.
“He changed his face,” Boz said finally. “And got rid of his scars. Ink’s not supposed to heal.”
“This isn’t Zack. It’s Colin.”
“Colin.” The old wolf rolled his name around on her tongue, as if tasting it. “Still don’t see any scars.”
Maybe Colin should be worried that her twisted words made a bit of sense. Or maybe he was putting his own meaning there. Either way he nodded. “No scars. I was never brave enough to trace mine in ink.”
Boz pointed a gnarled finger at his face. “Brave isn’t your problem,” she proclaimed, then laughed again and turned her attention to Lorelei. For a moment, her brown eyes cleared. “Where did you go?”
“We left town.” The words rasped out of Lorelei’s throat like sandpaper. “I’m sorry.”
“Evil was hunting you. Running was smart. Boz’s girl was always smart.” She managed to wrench the top off the Thermos, though judging from the sound of cracking plastic, it was due less to dexterity than to a hint of werewolf strength. Sharp as the smell of fresh coffee was, it couldn’t overwhelm the scent of despair in the night air.
Lorelei’s pale face shone bright in the darkness. “Christian Peters is dead. Do you know—has anyone been looking for me? Come to ask you where I am?”
Boz frowned over the edge of her coffee. “I wouldn’t help the hunters find you, girl. Not ever.”
“I know that,” Lorelei said hurriedly. “Never. I just need to know if someone has tried. If another bad man took Christian’s place.”
Hunching lower, Boz shot Colin a wary look. “He’s sharp edges. He smells like death. Like the cold ones.”
“Boz—”
“No, listen!” the woman hissed as her fingers locked around Lorelei’s wrist again, this time with more force. “Cold and quiet, that’s what it’s been. But now you’re here, and there go the screams again.”
Colin stepped forward and slid his hand onto Lorelei’s shoulder, his fingers trembling with the need to curl tight and yank her away from the mere whisper of danger. “I’m an enforcer,” he said into the silence, keeping his voice soft and even. “Do you know about enforcers?”
“I know you’re dark,” Boz snapped. “The hunters had other colors, red and blue, but not you. Oh, not you.”
It jabbed at the heart of his worst fears, and it was a sign of his own insecurity that it hurt that much. He refused to let it show, only nodding. “Maybe I am. Who better to keep her safe from the hunters?”
But it only seemed to agitate the old woman more. “The hunters are gone . Cold, I said. Behind the plastic and scattered on the wind. No one left.” Her grip softened, and her other hand crept out of the blankets to stroke the back of Lorelei’s hand. “But you’re here.”
“I’m—” Lorelei cleared her throat and closed her eyes, but tears glittered on her lashes. “I can’t stay, Boz.”
The woman was a broken wolf. His instincts rebelled at the idea of bringing her into his pack, bringing her closer to Lorelei, to fragile Mae and young, tired Kaley. A broken wolf could drag a pack down. Zack knew that—that was why he’d left.
But the tangy salt of
And she was crazed. Wild curly hair poked out from beneath the blanket, followed by dark brown eyes that focused on empty air instead of Lorelei. “I told you, girl. I ain’t riding no motorcycle.”
“Okay,” she agreed, as if the statement had made sense. She unzipped her backpack and pulled out a small Thermos. “I brought you some coffee, Boz. The real kind.”
Boz surged up and wrapped both shaking hands around the Thermos. “Just coffee, no arsenic?” She laughed as if she’d made a wonderful joke, but the sharp-edged sound cut off abruptly when her gaze fell on Colin. She frowned and tilted her head to such an extreme angle that his neck ached in sympathy.
“He changed his face,” Boz said finally. “And got rid of his scars. Ink’s not supposed to heal.”
“This isn’t Zack. It’s Colin.”
“Colin.” The old wolf rolled his name around on her tongue, as if tasting it. “Still don’t see any scars.”
Maybe Colin should be worried that her twisted words made a bit of sense. Or maybe he was putting his own meaning there. Either way he nodded. “No scars. I was never brave enough to trace mine in ink.”
Boz pointed a gnarled finger at his face. “Brave isn’t your problem,” she proclaimed, then laughed again and turned her attention to Lorelei. For a moment, her brown eyes cleared. “Where did you go?”
“We left town.” The words rasped out of Lorelei’s throat like sandpaper. “I’m sorry.”
“Evil was hunting you. Running was smart. Boz’s girl was always smart.” She managed to wrench the top off the Thermos, though judging from the sound of cracking plastic, it was due less to dexterity than to a hint of werewolf strength. Sharp as the smell of fresh coffee was, it couldn’t overwhelm the scent of despair in the night air.
Lorelei’s pale face shone bright in the darkness. “Christian Peters is dead. Do you know—has anyone been looking for me? Come to ask you where I am?”
Boz frowned over the edge of her coffee. “I wouldn’t help the hunters find you, girl. Not ever.”
“I know that,” Lorelei said hurriedly. “Never. I just need to know if someone has tried. If another bad man took Christian’s place.”
Hunching lower, Boz shot Colin a wary look. “He’s sharp edges. He smells like death. Like the cold ones.”
“Boz—”
“No, listen!” the woman hissed as her fingers locked around Lorelei’s wrist again, this time with more force. “Cold and quiet, that’s what it’s been. But now you’re here, and there go the screams again.”
Colin stepped forward and slid his hand onto Lorelei’s shoulder, his fingers trembling with the need to curl tight and yank her away from the mere whisper of danger. “I’m an enforcer,” he said into the silence, keeping his voice soft and even. “Do you know about enforcers?”
“I know you’re dark,” Boz snapped. “The hunters had other colors, red and blue, but not you. Oh, not you.”
It jabbed at the heart of his worst fears, and it was a sign of his own insecurity that it hurt that much. He refused to let it show, only nodding. “Maybe I am. Who better to keep her safe from the hunters?”
But it only seemed to agitate the old woman more. “The hunters are gone . Cold, I said. Behind the plastic and scattered on the wind. No one left.” Her grip softened, and her other hand crept out of the blankets to stroke the back of Lorelei’s hand. “But you’re here.”
“I’m—” Lorelei cleared her throat and closed her eyes, but tears glittered on her lashes. “I can’t stay, Boz.”
The woman was a broken wolf. His instincts rebelled at the idea of bringing her into his pack, bringing her closer to Lorelei, to fragile Mae and young, tired Kaley. A broken wolf could drag a pack down. Zack knew that—that was why he’d left.
But the tangy salt of
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