The Shadow Wolf. Bonnie Vanak
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Gabriel cursed again. This went all wrong. Then again, nothing ever went exactly right when he was called in to deal with a Shadow Wolf.
“Breakfast on the house for everyone.” The restaurant could afford it. It had turned over a profit ever since he’d purchased it ten years ago.
Jay, the restaurant’s manager, hurried over. “Want me to put her in the truck, too, Gabe?”
“No,” Gabriel said, more sharply than he’d intended. “Take care of the customers until I can do a little mind cleansing.”
He felt protective, even territorial, of the unconscious woman. She felt soft in his arms. Another uncomfortable surge of arousal raced through him. Breathing in deeply, he caught the unfamiliar, odd smell of something faintly sinister, as well.
This Shadow must have come into contact with evil forces.
Using the restaurant’s private kitchen exit, Gabriel headed for the SUV and settled her in. He gently smoothed her hair, disturbed at the lines of strain on her face. A low hiss escaped him as he saw a purpling bruise on her forehead.
Gabriel growled softly, wanting to find whoever dared to hurt her so he could demonstrate the power of his fists.
“You’re safe now,” he told her.
He went into the kitchen. The twins were huddled together on a chair, their eyes wide, holding each other’s hands. Sending waves of reassurance into their minds through his powers, Gabriel squatted down to their level. “All will be well, mes petites. I’m going to take good care of you.”
Then he waved a hand, telepathically commanding them to sleep and instructed Jay to put them into the back of the SUV. Gabriel called his housekeeper.
“Jean, we’re having company. I need you to go shopping for twin girls, age seven. They’re about 50-55 pounds. Get a bunch of shorts, shirts, enough sizes in case they don’t fit and charge it to my card.”
He hung up, went into the restaurant and planted subtle suggestions in the minds of the customers, nothing but a heated squabble between an irate husband and his wife. Even the pack of Draicon werewolves acquiesced. Everyone smiled and nodded, except for the silver-haired man folding his paper and setting it aside.
The man gave Gabriel a small, knowing smirk. His blood went cold. He tried again, probing the man’s mind—just a squabble, no one hurt, nothing to see….
It felt like he’d smacked against a concrete wall. Gabriel inwardly winced, resisted rubbing his temples from the small spike of pain.
Fine. Gabriel let loose all his powers and sent them barreling into the man, like spraying him with a shotgun blast. The silver-haired man rubbed his head and dropped his gaze.
Satisfied, he went into the kitchen and gave Jay instructions to deliver the Harley to his island home.
Gabriel slid behind the wheel of the Expedition, glanced at the terrace. The silver-haired man was eating his breakfast.
The sun beamed strong and bright on the shimmering pavement as he drove away. Air conditioning blew through the vents inside the vehicle. When his cell rang, he fished the phone from his pocket.
“Robichaux,” he stated.
“Whoa, you sound serious.”
Gabriel glanced in the rearview mirror at his cargo. “Something unexpected came up. Have to cancel.”
Silence hung in the air. Then Raphael spoke again. “Just as well with me. The rest of us couldn’t see all that time for male bonding when we’d be gone from our mates and Alex. Well, Alex is seeing someone. Finally.”
Joy and dismay collided together. Gabriel’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “Who? She’s not … a Shadow, is she?”
“No, she’s regular Draicon.”
It was about damn time his older brother had some happiness. Alex had been grieving for his mate and child for the past three years. Ever since …
My fault, Gabriel thought, feeling the familiar sting of guilt. All my fault.
No time for the luxury of grief. “I’ll be on the island for a few days. Contact me on an emergency basis only,” he said.
“Ah, got it.” Raphael sighed. “I thought you were done with this, Gabe.”
“I was, until I got a call from Jay. No one else in the area is available so I have to deal with this case. There are kids involved, two little girls.”
His brother cursed softly. “Everything okay?” Raphael sounded worried.
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Gabriel thumbed off the phone.
His grin died as he glanced again at the rearview mirror. Gabriel maneuvered the SUV into a grocery store parking lot. He pulled into a space, left the engine running. With its darkened windows, no one could see inside the Expedition.
He powered up the small laptop sitting on the dash. Gabriel typed commands and called up the necessary information on his new adult charge.
Megan Moraine. Single, age 26. Reported missing from the island five days ago, with twin sisters Jennifer and Jillian Sullivan, her cousins. Grandmother deceased one week from natural causes. Suspect last reported seen in Naples, Florida, and is Halfling, but extremely clever and dangerous. Twins are full-blooded Shadow and considered lethal. Use of extreme force in apprehension is approved.
Lost in thought, he switched off the computer and glanced backward at the sleeping Megan. His chest felt hollow as he studied the twins. They were too thin, pale and looked totally defenseless.
“You’re safe,” he murmured. “Sleep now, mes petites.”
His gaze slid to Megan. If Megan Moraine discovered his secret, he was screwed. He’d just have to make certain she never did.
To her, he was the enemy. For their own safety, she and those precious little ones must keep believing that lie.
If anyone found out otherwise, they’d all be on the run. For their very lives.
Chapter 2
A monster stalked her dreams, a snarling beast on two legs with red eyes and fur dark as midnight. “Trust me, Megan,” it grated out as blood dripped from its sharp fangs. “I won’t hurt you.” But she was terrified because she knew it would drag her back to the island prison and laugh as it raked its claws across her cold skin so she would die slowly in agony.
Megan awoke with a small cry. Just a dream. It’s just the same dream you’ve had for years. Snap out of it.
Someone wanted her dead. The threat lingered in the air like wood smoke. A dark-haired, handsome stranger with eyes that flashed amber; a walking, talking epicenter of lethal grace.
Gabriel Robichaux.
Cringing, she took a deep breath, expecting to be tied to a cold steel table, a metal tray of sharp instruments nearby.
But the surface beneath her was soft. Megan lifted her legs. No restraints. She was lying on a bed facing a bank of windows overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Fingers of crisp white clouds streaked the sharp blue sky.
No purple tunic and matching pants, either.
Delicious smells of frying bacon came from downstairs. It enticed and cajoled. Food, she needed food, her head ached from hunger, the hollow pit in her stomach demanded energy.
She looked around. The cheerful powder-blue-and-lilac bedroom had a white bamboo dresser, glass-topped table and two chairs with floral prints. Megan touched her head, trying to get her thoughts squared.
“You never ate your breakfast, so I fried eggs. I advise you not to skip another meal or you’ll fade into nothing, and not just because you’re a Shadow Wolf,”