Wolf's Song

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Authors: Taryn Kincaid
Tags: Black Hills Wolves
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“Even better plan if I could walk,” he muttered.
    She raced back to him, trying to lever his body off the floor. If she’d thought him heavy when he’d pressed her against his mattress, most of his poundage borne by his forearms and shoulders, the tranquilizer deadening his limbs now seemed to double his weight.
    “Help me help us, Brick,” she urged. Slinging his arm across his shoulder, she ducked beneath him, forcing him to his feet. They couldn’t exit through the door into the saloon. The cats would be on them like mustard on a hot dog. She managed to drag him toward the bathroom in the rear of the office and throw open the window.
    “I got this, Aura Lee.”
    He clambered clumsily onto the toilet seat and yanked her up with him. She eyed the window. His size. His lethargy. Shot him a look full of doubt.
    “Let me go first, sweetheart,” he hissed. “If I don’t make it, you shift. You soar. You get the fuck away from here. Fast as you can.”
    “I won’t leave you.”
    “Don’t underestimate the wolf.” He touched her chin with his finger, his aim only a little askew. “Listen to me, Summer. I need to know you’re safe. That you’ll get safe. Or I don’t stand a chance.”
    “All right.”
    When she nodded reluctantly, he expelled a relieved breath. “You fly.” He gave her a parting wink and tumbled through the window, landing in a leaden heap in the bushes below. He shifted, the wolf bounding toward his truck, still parked in the rear lot where they’d left it. The beast moved less gracefully than usual, but not as sluggishly as the man.
    She climbed out of the window and raced after him. Bundled him into the back of the vehicle, got behind the wheel, and tore ass down the mountain with teeth-jangling speed. Stopping briefly at the cabin to snatch up a bag of clothes.
    And then on into Los Lobos. Slamming into the sidewalk abutting The Den. Where it had all ended for Brick. Or begun.
    He sprang out of the back of the truck, a huge, furred frenzy, and marched to her side, his movements fluid, his lope confident. I got this, baby was stamped across his snout, written in every ripple of muscle. His jaws closed around their bag. A thrill of excitement zipped through her. She wrapped her hand in his thick scruff and walked into the bar beside him. By the spirit of the Great Hawk, she loved this guy. Man. Beast. The whole gorgeous package.
     
    “So you finally ready to settle up your bar tab, boy?” The huge werebear lumbered behind the bar of The Den, moving toward the antique cash register. He’d brushed his black hair back from his broad, weathered forehead, twisting it into a two tight braids that flowed over his shoulders and swung when he moved. A silver and turquoise earring, shaped like a dreamcatcher and dripping three tiny feathers, dangled from one ear. His blue cambric work shirt covered the tats and arrow scars Brick had seen marking his chest.
    He stared back at his mentor, the sole friend he’d had in the world—until Summer had flown into his life and thumped him in the ribcage with a Ram truck medallion, capturing his heart.
    He dumped the bag of clothes on the floor. Shifting back into human form, he yanked on a pair of jeans, patting the pocket for his wallet. “Yeah, what’s the damage?”
    “Let’s see…considering you guzzled like a fish, nearly got my liquor license yanked a few times, and broke up the place when you lunged for Magnum—not to mention ten years of compounded interest? I reckon that’s about $19,000 you owe me.”
    Next to him, Summer gasped, bristling and furious on his behalf. “That’s price gouging, you cheat,” she hissed. “He couldn’t possibly have run up that big a tab here. He was just a kid when he got his head handed to him and you didn’t do anything to stop it. Interest? Are you kidding?”
    “Yeah, he is, sweetheart,” Brick whispered. He ran a hand over her soft hair. His turn to soothe her ruffled feathers for once. He

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