Wolf at the Door Read Online Free Page B

over the line and Timber felt the
air squeeze right out of her lungs. “Hello?”
    “I need to speak with Brandt Lawrence.”
    “I’m sorry, ma’am. What—”
    She found her voice then and it was like
steel. Unbending, unwavering, and despite the way every inch of her
body was shaking, her voice didn’t as much as quiver. “Look. I’m
Timber Kearney, the Bear Creek alpha. Brandt came to my house to
warn me about a serial killer who might possibly be after my pack.
I have information I think he’d like to have right away, and I’m
only willing to share it with him. Now, I need to speak with
him.”
    “Hang on.” She could hear the woman moving in
the background, but the voice was muffled. Then finally, “Are you
in immediate danger?”
    Timber bit back the strangled laugh then.
She’d made her wait and then asked that. And people wondered
why shifters didn’t trust these people. “No.”
    “Then I’ll take your number and have him call
you.”
    “It has to be tonight. Now.”
    “I’ll see what I can do, ma’am, but he’s not
in right now. Are you sure you won’t speak to anyone else?” There
was a patronizing tone that left Timber shaking.
    She let a growl edge into her voice, her hand
gripping the phone so tightly she knew her knuckles had leached
white. She snapped out her number.
    “I’ll see what I can—”
    “He’ll want to hear this as soon as possible.
Morning might not be in time.” And before the idiot woman could say
anything else, Timber hung up and sagged back into her chair. She’d
made a mistake. She knew it now. But the thought of yet another
Hound, possibly a pack, nosing around her house, asking her
questions...she couldn’t do it.
    Refused to do it, when she knew damn well
they wouldn’t help her or any of her wolves.
    She sucked in a hard breath and blew it out,
nice and slow. She’d talk to one Hound. If he chose to help it’d be
a bloody miracle, but at least it would just be one out
here.
    Her phone vibrated in her hand a second
before the ringtone cut through the silence. Timber jumped, a
half-scream on her lips, but she looked down at the screen. A
number she didn’t recognize flashed in the darkness. She thumbed
over the button and answered.
    “Hello?”
    “Timber?” Brandt’s familiar voice filled her,
groggy and gravelly from sleep, and yet amazingly soothing. Strong.
She closed her eyes as another tremor of fear jolted through her
veins.
    “He was here.”
    Brandt growled over the other end and she
knew in that moment he’d snapped wide, wide awake. “What do you
mean he was there?”
    There was a flurry of frantic movement in the
background, clothes being shaken out, and shoes skidding across the
floor. A whirl of a belt. “There’s a bloody hair tie on my front
steps. It’s Becky’s.”
    “You should have told the operator—”
    “I’m not dealing with anyone else.” He cursed
on the other end and she smiled. But it was one of those weak,
on-the-verge-of-tears smiles. Because what she was going to say
next, she didn’t want to say. When she spoke, it sounded breathy,
filled with the pain and fear she’d tried so hard to convince
herself had been left behind when she escaped Charles. “I think I
know more about your case than you do.”
    “Are you safe? In any immediate danger?”
    “I’m locked in. I think he’s gone.” But she
was always going to be in danger, she knew that now.
    Brandt blew out a frustrated breath.
    “I’m going to keep you on this line, but I
need to call in my pack.” She opened her mouth to protest, but he
cut her off before she could begin. “Look, you only have to talk to
me, but I want my pack out there. I want to make sure we comb every
inch of your territory looking for this guy. I want to make sure
you and your pack members are safe.”
    She didn’t say a word, just leaned back in
her chair and waited for him to arrive. It was another twenty
minutes before headlights flashed through her living room