Read Online Never Cry Wolf by Cynthia Eden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cynthia Eden
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sick.
He caught her chin and tipped her head back. “You hurt for him and you’re furious that this happened to him. Right now, there’s no time for the hurt. Just focus on the fury, and it’ll get you through this.” His hand fell away.
She blinked. Focus on the fury. Interesting. It almost seemed like the wolf cared how she felt. No, don’t fall into that trap. He sees you as a tool he can use, just like Rafe.
“Claws ripped his throat open, no doubt.” Michael’s voice. Her gaze shot to the left. He was leaning over John’s body, his eyes slitting as he studied the wounds on John’s neck. “No knife did this.” He glanced at Lucas, nodding. “Definitely shifter.”
Lucas stepped closer to the body. “Wolf or coyote?”
Sarah’s breath froze in her throat. She couldn’t help it, she had to look at John’s face. Still handsome in death with his strong nose, high cheekbones, and that stubborn jaw. But his blue eyes were closed, no longer snapping out energy. The bronzed skin was too pale.
I’ll meet you in LA. Simone is the one we need. We can end this thing. He just has to help us. Then the road ahead is free.
She brushed past Lucas. Ran her hand over the too-icy flesh of John’s cheek. This wasn’t the kind of freedom he’d been talking about.
“I smell coyote all over the poor bastard,” Michael said.
“So do I,” Lucas agreed. “But the guy was a charmer, he worked with the coyotes.”
So their smell would be on him.
Sarah felt the stare on her and she looked to the left, meeting Michael’s assessing brown gaze. “He worked with them . . . like she worked with the wolves.” Not a question from the dark wolf.
But, yeah, they’d both been spies of a sort.
I’m sorry, John. If she’d gotten to LA sooner, would she have been able to stop this?
Michael pulled back the sheet and studied John’s arms. “No defensive wounds.”
“Because he didn’t have time to fight,” Lucas said and she knew he was right. “Probably never saw the guy coming.”
No, because if he had, John would’ve fought.
She pulled her hand away from John. Her fingers balled into a fist. She could still feel the cold touch of his flesh. “If it was fast, then he didn’t suffer much.” Shouldn’t that have been comforting? Why wasn’t it?
Michael exhaled. “There’s no wolf scent on this guy, and those marks on his neck . . .” He scratched his chin. “Not quite as big as a wolf’s . . .”
Coyote.
“Then we know what got him.” Lucas yanked the sheet back over John’s body. “Close him up, Michael.” He caught Sarah’s arm. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Finally. This time, she was the one to pull him along as she hurried outside. She wanted air. Her cheeks felt too chilled, almost as cold as John’s. Her feet thudded down the hallway. The tiles gleamed up at her and the fluorescent lights dimmed a bit overhead.
Her left hand slammed against the exit door. She sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Not death. She tried to rush forward—
But Lucas’s hold stopped her.
“What—”
He yanked her back, pulling her into the shadows and caging her body between his and the hard brick building. He still had her right hand, his fingers holding it tightly. “Did you think I didn’t notice?”
“Notice what?”
He shoved back her sleeve and the scalpel glinted.
The wolf saw too much. She’d remember that. Now she just snapped, “If you hadn’t taken my knife, I wouldn’t have needed a backup weapon.”
He slipped the scalpel free and tossed it on the ground.
Great. “You told me you were going to kill me,” she reminded him. Don’t think about John. Not yet, don’t. “So, yes, I took the chance to grab a weapon—”
“Is that what I said?” His thumb brushed over her wrist. Her pulse pounded quickly beneath that light touch. And since when was the alpha wolf given to light touches?
“Y-yes . . .” The heat from his body was slowly banishing the cold.
He caught her chin and tipped her head back. “You hurt for him and you’re furious that this happened to him. Right now, there’s no time for the hurt. Just focus on the fury, and it’ll get you through this.” His hand fell away.
She blinked. Focus on the fury. Interesting. It almost seemed like the wolf cared how she felt. No, don’t fall into that trap. He sees you as a tool he can use, just like Rafe.
“Claws ripped his throat open, no doubt.” Michael’s voice. Her gaze shot to the left. He was leaning over John’s body, his eyes slitting as he studied the wounds on John’s neck. “No knife did this.” He glanced at Lucas, nodding. “Definitely shifter.”
Lucas stepped closer to the body. “Wolf or coyote?”
Sarah’s breath froze in her throat. She couldn’t help it, she had to look at John’s face. Still handsome in death with his strong nose, high cheekbones, and that stubborn jaw. But his blue eyes were closed, no longer snapping out energy. The bronzed skin was too pale.
I’ll meet you in LA. Simone is the one we need. We can end this thing. He just has to help us. Then the road ahead is free.
She brushed past Lucas. Ran her hand over the too-icy flesh of John’s cheek. This wasn’t the kind of freedom he’d been talking about.
“I smell coyote all over the poor bastard,” Michael said.
“So do I,” Lucas agreed. “But the guy was a charmer, he worked with the coyotes.”
So their smell would be on him.
Sarah felt the stare on her and she looked to the left, meeting Michael’s assessing brown gaze. “He worked with them . . . like she worked with the wolves.” Not a question from the dark wolf.
But, yeah, they’d both been spies of a sort.
I’m sorry, John. If she’d gotten to LA sooner, would she have been able to stop this?
Michael pulled back the sheet and studied John’s arms. “No defensive wounds.”
“Because he didn’t have time to fight,” Lucas said and she knew he was right. “Probably never saw the guy coming.”
No, because if he had, John would’ve fought.
She pulled her hand away from John. Her fingers balled into a fist. She could still feel the cold touch of his flesh. “If it was fast, then he didn’t suffer much.” Shouldn’t that have been comforting? Why wasn’t it?
Michael exhaled. “There’s no wolf scent on this guy, and those marks on his neck . . .” He scratched his chin. “Not quite as big as a wolf’s . . .”
Coyote.
“Then we know what got him.” Lucas yanked the sheet back over John’s body. “Close him up, Michael.” He caught Sarah’s arm. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Finally. This time, she was the one to pull him along as she hurried outside. She wanted air. Her cheeks felt too chilled, almost as cold as John’s. Her feet thudded down the hallway. The tiles gleamed up at her and the fluorescent lights dimmed a bit overhead.
Her left hand slammed against the exit door. She sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Not death. She tried to rush forward—
But Lucas’s hold stopped her.
“What—”
He yanked her back, pulling her into the shadows and caging her body between his and the hard brick building. He still had her right hand, his fingers holding it tightly. “Did you think I didn’t notice?”
“Notice what?”
He shoved back her sleeve and the scalpel glinted.
The wolf saw too much. She’d remember that. Now she just snapped, “If you hadn’t taken my knife, I wouldn’t have needed a backup weapon.”
He slipped the scalpel free and tossed it on the ground.
Great. “You told me you were going to kill me,” she reminded him. Don’t think about John. Not yet, don’t. “So, yes, I took the chance to grab a weapon—”
“Is that what I said?” His thumb brushed over her wrist. Her pulse pounded quickly beneath that light touch. And since when was the alpha wolf given to light touches?
“Y-yes . . .” The heat from his body was slowly banishing the cold.
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