Chapter 3

Chapter

Three

H e'd almost had her—the bitch daughter of Jean-Michel Gautier. Now there would have been a prize worth having. He'd only recently discovered that the Earth was home not just to humans, but to a kind of human/wolf hybrid. Was she rare? One of a kind? Maybe she was an anomaly or maybe one or both of her parents were like her—a creature who could shift between their two hybrid halves. He wondered if there were others. No other creature could compare to the Master, but he thought the hybrid might be superior to his original human offerings.

The first time he'd seen her was when he was coming back from hiding his latest kill. That one had been sloppy and a pure indulgence on his part. He'd been fucking the girl and the Master had whispered in his ear to squeeze the life out of her as he pumped her full of his cum. The Master didn't understand that he couldn't leave evidence behind if he was to finish his work.

He thought it odd that the beautiful blonde had apparently gone for a naked run in the bayou. He wondered if this was an everyday occurrence. He waited for two days in the swamp, hidden from prying eyes. On the third day, he saw her old Jeep pull into the small parking lot at the trailhead. They were the only two people there. She stood listening and scanning the area. He was careful to stay very still to avoid being detected.

Finding nothing that alarmed her, the bitch had removed her clothes, revealing a lush, ripe body that made his cock stir. The air all around him suddenly felt alive and not just from the humidity or insects that were always a part of the Louisiana bayous. No, this was a kind of electricity that sparked through the air and made it shimmer in an unnatural manner.

He looked back to the girl, and she had vanished. In her place stood an enormous, tawny-colored red wolf. Normally red wolves were smaller than their timber wolf cousins, but this one was the largest wolf he'd ever seen. It shook itself from the tip of its nose all the way down its spine to its tail. It barked loudly, chasing its tail before whirling around and bounding off into the swamp.

Surely the Master would see her as a more valuable prize. There was a magic that seemed to envelop her, making her a far more elusive quarry.

He tried to follow her, but she stopped at one point, glancing back in his direction as if she'd heard him. He froze in place, sinking down into the earth to avoid detection. After a few moments, she turned back to the trail and took off again.

He retreated to his hiding place close to her Jeep and waited. Eventually she galloped back along the trail and entered the parking lot. She surveyed the area to ensure she was the only one there—only she didn't know she wasn't. He was there watching as the air shimmered around her and wolf became woman once more.

The very thought of her caused his cock to become hard and the Master to become greedy. The Master wanted her lifeforce energy. Should he give it to him? If the Master had it, would he need him anymore? The Master had punished him with dreams of confronting the wolf and having her rip his entrails from his body. He knew he would ultimately have to sacrifice her to the Master.

At first he'd been intrigued by her looks, and then her intelligence. He'd thought knowing more about her might provide him with a greater challenge. Like the others, his plan was to stalk her—undetected at first, but as the end drew near, he would let her know she was now his prey so that she would fear him and understand that the end was coming. When her fear was at its highest peak, he would move in for the kill—taking his time to savor her alarm, panic, and terror as she realized there was no escape. He'd leave her for others to find—pretty as a picture.

She was an interesting quarry—one minute she was a beautiful addition to his gallery—no more, no less. When he'd begun to stalk her, he'd been able to learn her name by pawing through the garbage at her tawdry little apartment. From there, it had been fairly easy to use his laptop to learn not only was she a cop, but the daughter of one of the scions of the Crescent City—Jean-Michel Gautier. He wondered if there was anyone who didn't know the owner of Rivière Du Loup. Said to be the direct descendant of the pirate Jean-Lafitte, he was one of the wealthiest men in the city.

He'd been patient, drawing her in little by little, but then he realized she'd been able to put the pieces of the puzzle together. He'd worked so hard to not leave a pattern that anyone could figure out—killing in different places and by different means; choosing women who looked nothing alike and seemed to have nothing in common… but they did. She had seen the order in the chaos he'd tried so hard to create. He'd finally lured her to a place and waited for her to fall into his trap. And he would have had her too, if that cowboy hadn't distracted him. Where the hell had he come from? And who was he?

It was only when he was finalizing his plans that he recognized how much of a threat she was. He thought he'd been the predator and she his prey, but he was wrong. She had discovered what he'd taken so much effort to hide—the pattern. A pattern everyone else had failed to discern.

Somehow, she'd figured out the murders he'd staged all over the city were connected. Unlike his previous victims, she knew about him—not who he was, but what he was doing. He'd been so careful. How had she pierced his veil? He had to shut her down.

He lured her to a deserted spot down on the wharf—in order to play with her, to enjoy her luscious body before sacrificing her to the Master. But the bitch had been followed. He had tagged along behind her and just when he thought he'd spring his trap, the tall, muscular cowboy had thrown a garbage can lid, distracting him and alerting her. His plan had been foiled. He would need to find all the information and evidence she had accumulated and destroy it before resuming his task.

Who was her savior? And why do I fear him?

T ravis nuzzled her neck and stroked her body to soothe the fire that still raced within her. Skylar leaned against the wall, her hair hanging down on either side of her shoulders. Her face was hidden, yet he could tell she was silently crying and didn't want him to know.

She tried to move away from him, but he wrapped his arm around her middle and covered her hand with his, allowing their arms to touch along a parallel plane.

"Shh, Sky. It's all right. Everything will be fine," he crooned lovingly to her.

"No, it won't," she said, knocking his hand away and elbowing him to try and force him to release her.

It didn't work. Travis tightened his grip on her as he ran his nose up the side of her neck before nipping her ear.

"Stop it, Travis," she said, struggling to break free of his hold. "Let go."

Sighing, he stood back and lifted her in his arms. He walked back to the bed and set her down next to it, being careful not to release her.

"I'd like to take a shower," she snarled.

"And I'd like it if you settled down and behaved. But I doubt either of us is going to get what we want."

When Skylar struck out at him, Travis took hold of her forearm and used her own momentum to turn her back into his arms.

"Knock it off, Skylar. We're both tired and need to get some sleep."

"Fine, then. I'll just head back to my place, you can stay here, and we'll pretend this never happened."

Travis shook his head and sighed again.

"You do that a lot."

"Do what?"

"The whole sighing thing. I don't know what it's done for other she-wolves, but I don't find it impressive. Not a very alpha sound if you know what I mean."

He chuckled. "I don't know, I've heard my father, your father, and Marco DeMedici all make the same noise when dealing with their fractious mates. I figure I'm in good company. Quit trying to provoke me, Skylar. You won't like how that turns out for you."

She tossed her head back and glared at him defiantly. "What are you going to do about it?"

Travis ran his hands down her flanks, grinning when she tried to move away and brushed up against his groin, where evidence of his need was all too apparent.

"My father recommends a good switch, yours prefers his belt, and Marco has a special strap."

Skylar shoved at his chest. "Do you actually discuss this kind of shit with both of our fathers and Marco?"

"A wolf's gotta do what a wolf's gotta do. Right about the time I realized you were my fated mate, I decided to follow my father's advice that forewarned is forearmed. My mother dealt him all kinds of grief before she decided to settle down."

"You do realize the key to that statement was that she decided to settle down. The same can be said of my mother and Catherine."

"And why did they give in? Because their mates refused to allow them to deny their own destiny. God, Sky, you were born a she-wolf into a pack where fated mates are a way of life. I shouldn't have to explain this shit to you. With my first breath I had your scent in my nostrils—a combination of sage, bluebonnets, and crepe jasmine. I've known since we were kids that you were meant to be mine. I've tried being patient, but it hasn't done me much good. And I'll be damned if my giving you more time and space gets you killed."

"My destiny is to protect the citizens of my city, to hunt people like him, and to bring them to justice."

"No. Your destiny is to be my mate first and then to protect your city and its people. Being a good cop means following the rules—not going all rogue and chasing after this guy by yourself. If you've got evidence of a pattern and have found a prime suspect, it's your job to report it to the higher-ups so they can create a task force, maybe even bring in the feds. Your objective should be to catch him, not use him as a way up the ladder. That's about your ego, not justice."

Her palm cracked across his cheek before he'd even realized her intention. He'd hit too close to home. Travis cupped her head with his hands and crushed her against him, kissing her soundly, allowing all of his feelings to wash over her, dominating her senses until he could feel her capitulate.

"Get into bed, Sky." She started to speak, but he rumbled at her. "I'm willing to let the slap pass, but don't press your luck."

"You don't get to walk right into my life and make unilateral decisions."

"I didn't just come into your life," he said. Leading her over to the kitchen island, he retrieved her handcuffs and began placing her in the restraints.

Skylar pulled back. "No," she snarked.

"Yes," he growled back and jerked her back into his arms. "Tomorrow I'll get you something more comfortable than cold steel, but these will have to do for tonight."

"Bastard."

"Brat," he said with less vehemence, leading her back to the bed. "Do I need to get something to tether you to the bed with?"

"No." She rattled the metal restraints around her wrists. "I'm surprised you don't have fluffy pink fur handcuffs."

He chuckled. "I didn't think you'd go for fake fur ones, but if that's what you want, Sky, I'll get them for you. I do have an elaborate restraint system that can be added to the bed, but it won't be here for a day or two and then I'll have to install it." Her face paled. "You don't think your preferences at Torch Light, Dante's, and the like hasn't been reported to me, do you?"

"Oh my God, have you been spying on me?"

"Hardly. I just happen to be a member of the same clubs you are. Doms tend to stick together, especially where bratty alpha subs are concerned. It was easy enough to learn what you like. I thought about having a St. Andrew's Cross installed. What do you think, in front of one of the windows or over in one of the corners?"

"So help me, I'll tell my father."

Travis laughed. "Can I be there to watch? That ought to provide everyone with a good time. I suspect JD knows and keeps it from him, but your father is no fool. I think your father probably knows but doesn't want details. I've got a better idea. If you're not going to settle down and go to sleep, how about we drive out to Rivière Du Loup? You can wake your father and tell him he should challenge me to a duel or something equally worthy of your heritage." Skylar stomped her foot. "Choose, Sky—my bed or your father's plantation."

She snarled at him one last time but slipped between the covers and then extended her wrists. "Take them off."

"No," he said, removing his clothes and tossing them over the end of the bed.

Travis crawled in next to her and stretched out on his back. Skylar continued to sit up, staring down at him.

"Why?" she said softly.

"Because you're my fated mate. We belong together. All of the wolves I respect and admire, including your father by the way, have never settled for anything less than their fated mate, and I won't either. Rémy told me about the reoccurring nightmare you have. Whatever is coming, I plan to be there with you."

"Rémy is the only one who believes me."

"Not true. I know for a fact your father does. Why do you think he encouraged your mother to train you to fight? And to teach you to shoot and use a knife? Or let you become a cop?"

"I'm a cop because I earned it. I took the test, got accepted by the academy, and graduated at the top of my class."

"And if your father hadn't wanted it, he'd have exercised his not inconsiderable power and you would have been quietly ousted or assigned to the evidence locker."

"How do you know so much about my father?"

Travis laughed. "Because I'm your fated mate. I made it my business to get to know your father. Don't get me wrong, if he tries to come between us, he'll have one hell of a fight on his hands, and in the end, I will make you mine one way or another. But I don't think he will oppose me. I think he likes the idea of having a famous chef and restaurateur as mate to his beloved daughter."

"I wouldn't think he'd want me in Galveston though."

"Galveston isn't far. But who says we'll be in Galveston?"

"Because that's where Wolf Meadow and your pack are. You're destined to be alpha."

"Maybe someday, maybe not. Shall I tell you a secret?"

He tugged on her hair, and she lay down next to him, curled into his shoulder.

"If you want."

"I am alpha, your alpha, but I've never seen myself as alpha to the pack in Galveston or anywhere else for that matter. I've always seen myself with you. And despite what others may think, I've never believed you would be mistress to a great pack. Rémy told me on your parents' tenth wedding anniversary you stood in the middle of their bed and declared you would live your life as you see fit. He and I have both wondered if that, too, wasn't prophecy."

"What about your pack?"

"I have younger brothers."

"None of whom are alphas."

"True enough. I've thought perhaps Piper's mate might be called to us." He shook his head. "Or maybe someone altogether different."

"If you aren't alpha to a pack, what will you do?"

"Love you and keep you safe."