McCallan's Heart Read online

  McCallan’s Heart

  The McCallan Legacy, Book 2

  Theodora Lane

  Published 2013

  ISBN: 978-1-59578-951-8

  Published by Liquid Silver Books, imprint of Atlantic Bridge Publishing, 10509 Sedgegrass Dr, Indianapolis, Indiana 46235. Copyright © Published 2013, Theodora Lane. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Liquid Silver Books

  http://LSbooks.com

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Blurb

  Russ Magnus is a rogue wolf on the run and without a pack. He’s lost everything—his home, his pack, and his mate. He’s a danger to himself and other werewolves.

  He should have died when his pack was attacked and slaughtered by a band of hunters, but fate placed him away from the homestead. Now, without a mate, he’s facing a slow death or a quick one if another pack finds him on their lands.

  When he stumbles across Tori McCallan and they witness a serial killer in action, Russ has no choice but to grab Tori and flee. He wants her as his mate, but there’s a small problem with his plan. Having two shifter brothers who tried to run her life, Tori has left her pack and sworn off werewolves.

  With a killer on their trail, Russ’s only hope is to take Tori back to her family and pack to keep her safe. But Russ discovers he’s the one in danger—her brother, Jake, believes rogue wolves are a threat to his small but growing pack and should die.

  And if that wasn’t bad enough, Russ might have lead a killer straight to them all.

  Acknowledgements

  To everyone at Liquid Silver Books, for giving these books a second chance, thank you.

  Chapter 1

  Russ Magnus inhaled the clean clear scent of pines as he rode his 2000 Honda Valkyrie down the west Mississippi highway heading to the coast. The thick scent tickled his nostrils, reminding him of the part of himself he had to keep hidden. The hum of the cycle’s engine and the constant vibration between his legs barely soothed the need building in Russ over the last three days. Only one thing would, and he knew it.

  Dense foliage grew to a narrow swath of cleared ground next to the blacktop road. If he pulled over and got off the bike, he’d only need to take two strides to reach the pines. And safety.

  He snorted. No place was safe for a rogue wolf.

  Still, the forest tempted him. Lured him with promises of pleasure, freedom, and a fresh kill.

  Russ glanced into his rearview mirror. The vacant road behind him rose in undulating hills, climbing higher and higher to the north. Ahead of him, the last few miles would level out the softly rolling hills and he’d return to the flat land of the gulf coast. Soon the pines would be replaced by scrub and palmettos and sand.

  This might be his last chance to taste freedom.

  And it might be the stupidest chance he ever took.

  “Fuck it,” he swore with a chest-rumbling growl.

  Ahead, a red dirt road, no more than two tire ruts in width, peeled off from the highway. Russ slowed, took the turn and eased the big bike down the narrow lane until he found a place to stash it.

  He killed the engine, pocketed the keys in his jeans and swung a long leg over the seat. Pausing long enough to scent the air around him, he searched the woods for movement and listened for sounds that might be man-made.

  All clear.

  He removed his brown leather jacket, slinging it over the saddle of his bike. No need to remove the rest of his clothes; they would reappear when he shifted back to human. He ran his hands through his hair and stepped farther into the woods, careful not to leave any tracks. His sturdy work boots, the kind sold by the thousands all over the U.S., left only faint traces of his passing. He weaved between the young saplings and low brush, careful not to break any branches, snag any part of his clothing, or leave any trace of his blood.

  Nearly twenty years of training kicked in as he worked his way deeper into the woods. The view of his bike vanished behind the curtain of underbrush. No sounds from the road entered this deep in the forest.

  When the only thing he heard had been identified and attributed to natural causes, he opened himself to the urge. It filled him until it spilled out, setting off a chain reaction. Nearby, the young leaves of the dogwoods vibrated as if a tuning fork had been struck.

  His close-cropped hair stood on end and the air around him wavered, rippling waves like still water broken by a single pebble. He allowed his body to go all the way. To let what he truly was, on the inside, out. To be mastered by his basest needs and emotions. To free the beast.

  Pain. Relief. Release.

  His change complete, the black wolf sniffed the air, confirming he was the only predator in this forest, shook himself, and then trotted off into the woods, nose down, on the hunt for his latest victim.

  * * * *

  Marvin Williams opened the trunk of his beat-up, white 1994 Crown Victoria parked in the garage, and looked down at his latest victim.

  She’d been pretty. They all had.

  He’d kept her blonde hair from being tainted by any filth, tying it up into a high ponytail with a red satin ribbon. He liked blondes. But only true blondes.

  Only sluts dye their hair, Marvin.

  He gazed at the patch of neatly waxed blonde hair in the V of her legs. She’d been a true blonde. She’d been a good girl. Father would have approved of her.

  Just like the others.

  His gaze caught the dark purple bruises around her long neck, but then danced away from the ugliness that marred her perfection. In the end, no one remained perfect.

  He’d been lucky to find the abandoned house and derelict garage a few months ago. It had been in shambles when he moved in, but it served his meager needs. No one ever came down the dirt road to the property and he’d been careful so that no one suspected anyone lived there.

  He bent over, gathered the plastic sheet around her, and lifted her out of the trunk. He carried her out the back door and into the woods to where he’d dug the grave. This would be his last one here. He never killed more than three before he moved on. Already, as he tramped past two leaf-covered mounds of soft earth, he’d begun to think of his next place.

  Louisiana, maybe.

  He liked the way they cooked in Louisiana. Loved the fried chicken fast food place from New Orleans. Maybe go for the Mardi Gras. College girls loved Mardi Gras.

  He stood for a moment, holding the dead woman in his arms, and gazed lovingly down at her.

  She had been special. Very special.

  But then, he was a special man.

  * * * *

  Tori McCallan froze. Moving a little with each slow breath, she raised the camera to her face, sighted through the viewfinder, and snapped the picture. The near silent whir of the shutter didn’t startle her subject, thank God.

  The six-point buck chewed, long stalks of grass hanging from its supple black lips, big ears twitching back and forth, wary for any sign of danger.

  “I’m not going to harm you, big guy,” she whispered as she clicked the button for the next shot.

  That would be the one she’d use for her next painting. Magnificent. The big buck stood in a sun-dappled clearing in the thick woods, tall golden grass reaching up to its knees. It couldn’t have been more perfect if she’d planned it.

  In fact, this entire day had been perfec
tion. As if someone above had commanded it just for her. She’d taken amazing shot after shot of deer, raccoon, birds, and the natural beauty of the woods she’d come to love since moving to Mississippi two years ago.

  Not since leaving her family’s home in Louisiana had she felt this comfortable in a place. Just like home, the woods here were nearly pristine, untouched by man for decades. Not a single tree had been cut and the new growth sprouted naturally, not in the tell-tale orderly rows of a tree farm.

  Man, what her brother Jake would give to get hold of the lease on this land for the family lumber company. But if it was up to her, she’d never tell. She had no plans to return home or call. Leaving had been the best thing she’d ever done.

  She was free for the first time in her life, with no one to answer to but herself, no one to ask what time she’d be returning, who she was with, what she was doing.

  No over-protective brothers ruining her life. Between Jake and Trey she couldn’t say which one had been worse—Jake for trying to run her life or Trey for acting as if she didn’t exist. Stupid men. Stupid arrogant wolves.

  If she never had to deal with an alpha male again, it would be just fine with her.

  Crouching in the bushes, she took a few more shots of the buck as he moved along, grazing and watching, until at last, he slipped back into the woods.

  She exhaled, stood, and checked her watch. She had an hour before she lost the clear light of the afternoon. Plenty of time to go back to that old house she’d found a few months ago and take some shots of it. The old rusted corrugated tin roof covered in vines, the gray weathered planks of the walls, and the natural stones of the chimney were so picturesque she’d made a special note to return and capture it on film for one of her paintings.

  If she moved fast she could get there before the light faded. It got dark in the woods early, due to the heavy canopy of branches blocking the sunshine, and she’d left her flashlight back at her car.

  Tori packed her digital camera in its carrying case, and wove her way through the woods, using the same skills her father had taught all three of his kids. How to track animals and tell the difference between paw prints. How to move through the woods without leaving a trail. How to sit quietly, like a fawn, for hours. Well, if any good came of being the sister of two werewolves, it had to be the love it instilled in her of the woods.

  She might not be able to shift form like her brothers, but she could still out track them.

  * * * *

  The wolf’s jaws snapped the rabbit’s spine like kindling. He sniffed it, nudged it with his nose, and then pawed it onto its back. Dead.

  He ripped into the soft belly and ate, shredding and tearing at the still warm meat. Savoring the flavor and the kill.

  The hunt had been good, the rabbit fast, but the wolf faster.

  Snout covered in blood, he raised his head to howl his dominance to the world, but a faint scent caught his attention. Something different. Something that shouldn’t be in the woods, but too far away for him to worry about.

  He tore another piece, chewed, swallowed, and sat to lick his jaws and paws clean. He left the carcass for others to finish. It was the way of the wild.

  Sated, he stretched out, belly against the cool moist earth, eyes slitting as he relaxed.

  Curiosity nipped at him and he opened his eyes. That scent. Something familiar. He should investigate it. As man or wolf?

  Wolf.

  He rose on all fours and followed, trotting toward it, but then halting to sniff the air again. A change of direction. He turned and headed deeper into the forest. The woods kept its secrets, including scents, trapped below the tall canopy of pines and the lower fragrant dogwoods.

  Winding through the underbrush, skirting the blackberry brambles, he made his way closer. The scent strengthened.

  He was close.

  The wolf froze.

  Inhaled.

  Fur stood on end, hackles raised, tail lowered, he let his instincts take charge.

  Deep inside the wolf, he howled. Outside, only a low growl escaped.

  He knew now what he hunted.

  His mate.

  * * * *

  The old house had been just off the dirt road. She’d found it one day as she searched for where she’d parked her car. Tori pulled out her compass and took a reading. Jake would have commended her on her smarts to use the compass. Trey would have said she was cheating and ratted her out to their dad.

  Southwest.

  She angled off through the woods, heading back to the road. If there was enough time, she’d take a few pics. If not, she’d go home and come back tomorrow when the light was better.

  The day faded and shadows grew longer. She’d been walking for a while. Seemed a lot longer going back than it had taken to get here. Tori glanced around as an odd sensation scratched up her spine, like a ragged fingernail.

  Something followed her.

  She halted. Sniffing the air, she categorized the scents. Even though she wasn’t a shifter, she still had the sharpened senses of a wolf. A secret she’d never told, not even to her parents and especially not to her brothers.

  A sly grin spread over her face at all the times she’d fooled them. They were so sure in their arrogance. So positive they were the only ones who were special. So constant in their reminders that she wasn’t one of them.

  Stupid wolf brothers.

  All through her teens, she’d struggled to keep her secret, wanting to throw it in their faces, but it had been worth it. So very worth it. Each and every time she’d bested them, won her father’s praise, and seen the look of surprise on Jake’s face and the disbelief on Trey’s. Yep. That had been worth it.

  She let a light laugh slip, then clamped her mouth shut. She sniffed the air again.

  Something smelled different. Heavier. Musky. A wolf?

  Couldn’t be. If there had been werewolves around here, her family would have known it.

  She inhaled, mouth open to catch it on the taste buds of her tongue as her father had taught her. Deep dark woods. Cool clear spring water. Layers of dead leaves piled thick and soft.

  A shiver rippled through her body, tightening her nipples like a chill wind, dancing warmth across her belly and heating her groin.

  The sensation landed right between her legs.

  Her breathing deepened as her pussy clenched and she gasped, surprised at her instant arousal.

  Nothing like this had ever happened to her.

  Weird.

  She rubbed her arms and looked around. “What the hell?” she whispered, still aware that something was out there.

  Lurking. Watching?

  She felt the moisture pooling in her panties. Jesus, she’d never done that before. Her cheeks burned as they flushed. Sure, she’d been turned on by a guy before, but this was not like her. Not this strong or sudden. And uh, hello, no guy.

  For a moment, she let the arousal wash over her, enjoying the way it made her feel. Then she snapped out of it, rechecked the compass, got her bearings, and continued on.

  Whatever it was, it moved behind her, just off to the left. She didn’t hear it but she felt it. Her body knew. It just did.

  Fear prickled at her scalp, and then slipped down her spine like a lover’s fingers. She’d never been afraid before, not like this, but she’d never been in a situation like this, either. Aroused. Confused. Did she say aroused? Things were spinning out of her control.

  She hated that.

  Tori took off again, pushing aside low hanging branches as her heart pounded in her chest.

  Whatever was out there kept pace with her.

  Picking up speed, she no longer worried about leaving a trail.

  Chapter 2

  The wolf kept downwind of his quarry and out of sight. He knew her scent now and he’d be able to track her anywhere, but other than a flash of blue movement through the trees, he hadn’t seen her yet.

  Didn’t matter what she looked like. She was his.

  She moved faste
r and he broke into a trot.

  His hunger for her grew with each step he took, his urge to mate swelling inside him, to claim her as his and his alone.

  The snap of twigs under her feet and the scattering of the occasional bird in her path alerted him to her presence as much as her heady scent.

  They’d traveled far from the highway, deeper into the woods, but she moved as if she knew the way. The sun had fallen low in the sky and the shadows below the trees grew longer and deeper, giving him more cover.

  The wolf relaxed into his stride, confident he would overtake her.

  And when he did, he’d claim her.

  * * * *

  Marvin stumbled over a tree root and cursed, nearly losing his precious bundle. Almost there. Ahead of him, the dark hole gaped, waiting for him to deposit his prize.

  The last ten feet were a struggle, but he’d make it. No sense in resting yet. Plenty of time to do that after he left Mississippi far behind him.

  Concentrating on his destination, his gaze pinpointed the hole. He covered the last few steps in a trance-like state, knowing he was mere moments from success, from completing his task, from once again proving he was smarter than scores of cops across half a dozen states.

  * * * *

  Tori didn’t want to stop to recheck her compass. The sun sat over her shoulder so she should still be heading east. She thought. She found it harder to tell as the sun set and the forest grew darker.

  Whatever it was still trailed her. She afforded a few over-the-shoulder glances, but unless she stopped and took a reckoning, she’d have to go on instinct.

  Caught between trying to make up her mind and convincing herself it was just her imagination, she forged ahead. Each step took her closer to the cabin. She hoped. From there, she could follow the ruts to where she left her car.

  Ahead of her, something moved.

  She slowed. Had it circled around her, gotten in front of her?

  Without thinking, she moved to the largest pine closest to her and stepped behind it. She pressed her body against it, positive she couldn’t be seen.

  She prayed she couldn’t be seen.