a bandage, holding her
breath in case there was any pain. Her fingers breezed over a few indented
scabs, the rest of her skin unmarred and smooth.
“No,” she breathed, hands trembling. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m so sorry.” The tears Chloe had fought to contain slid
from her eyes, trickling down her cheeks. “I should have done something. I
wasn’t able to shift fast enough to protect you.”
“I am not becoming a werewolf.” Chloe had to be
wrong.
Yet even as she denied it, she knew her best friend—the one
person she trusted more than anyone else in the world—was telling her the
truth. Her body felt different, almost energized. Taking a deep breath, she
realized she could smell things she shouldn’t have—the floral fragrance of
Chloe’s shampoo, the aroma of pine from what she assumed was a freshly mopped
floor. And in the distance she heard voices. Some she recognized, some she
didn’t. Her ears homed on the sound of one in particular.
Declan.
A fresh flood of arousal wet her panties, her nipples
hardening to points. Her stomach cramped, a flash of heat winding from her
abdomen to her pussy. She shoved her fists into her belly, hoping to ease the
ache. Right then she wanted him beside her, to see his face, touch his skin.
She wanted to feel his mouth traveling over her flesh, his hands roaming over
the curves of her body.
Stop it! Get hold of yourself. What’s wrong with you?
She tried not to hyperventilate, inhaling through her nose
and exhaling through her mouth. If she wanted to deal with things she needed
time. The best way to maintain control was to stop thinking about what had
happened to her and center her attention on Chloe. Someone had tried to hurt
her friend. Tried to fucking kill her. For all Rachel knew the wolf that
had attacked might have made it out of her house. It could still be around,
waiting for another opportunity to strike.
“You said someone tried to have you killed.” Thankfully the
sexual urges eased, letting her think clearly. She focused on her thoughts,
tuning out her body. “Was it the thing that came to my house? Did it get away?”
“The wolf that attacked us is dead.” Chloe shook her head,
as though the confession pained her. “Jackson believes there’s more to it. He
thinks a couple of women from another pack are responsible but he doesn’t have
proof.”
“Proof?” Her ears had to be deceiving her. “A freaking wolf
attacked us last night. How much more proof does he need?”
“The wolf was rogue.” Chloe’s voice hardened. The strange
glow Rachel had glimpsed the night before returned to her irises. “He didn’t
have identification and no one in the pack recognized him or his scent. There’s
no way to know who sent him. They’re loners by nature. That’s why packs hire
them to do their dirty work. Even if Jackson confronted the Alpha of the pack
the women belong to, he’d need to have evidence to support his theory.”
“Who are these bitches?” Talking about other things kept
Rachel from thinking about the changes in her vision and sense of smell. It
wasn’t easy though. Someone had started cooking. Her mouth watered when she
recognized the delectable aroma of frying bacon. “Why do they have a problem
with you?”
“One of them—Simone—wants Jackson. She tried to force him
into an arranged mating.” Chloe’s lips thinned, her eyes narrowing. “The other
one’s name is Desiree. She was my father’s mate before he denounced her in
front of his pack. She knows that everything he possesses will be given to me
if anything happens to him.”
Damn. No wonder the women hated Chloe. “What are you
going to do?”
“Me? I’m not going to do anything,” she muttered, visibly
annoyed. “Jackson’s thinking about arranging a meeting with the packs. Until
then I’ll be watched everywhere I go. I won’t be able to do anything unless
someone is with me.”
Wasn’t serendipity a bitch? Chloe needed to be protected
around
Learning to Kill: Stories