Circle of Dreams (The Quytel Series Book 1) Page 5

  Cole had no doubt he and the team waiting out front were there for the same thing. The lovely Brianna Doherty must be quite a prize.

  He eased along to the back door and had the sophisticated lock open in seconds. He heard no alarm, but a silent one could have been triggered. He had to move fast. There didn’t seem to be a way to avoid the camera pointed at the door. Slipping into the kitchen with soundless tread, he listened for any hint of movement in the stillness of the house.

  Sniffing the air, Cole froze as the delicate blend of jasmine and lavender assailed him. This was no perfume, simply the natural scent of the woman who lived in this house. It filled his mind and body with her essence, touching man and wolf.

  The pearl exploded like thunder in his chest. Not a protest, but a triumph. The wolf broke through, and growled low in his throat.

  Spending precious moments he didn’t have, Cole took a deep breath and reached for unity within—man, wolf, and now compulsion seeking a common goal. Pushing thought aside, he allowed his training to take over as he trekked carefully, keeping clear of the windows. On the other side of the large, cheerful kitchen, stairs led to the second story. Her scent hung in every room, teasing his senses, testing his control. Harnessing the energies of the three, he channeled them to the task at hand.

  Following the most potent concentration of her scent, Cole took the stairs two at a time. His acute hearing picked up a whisper of movement coming from one of the rooms down the hall on the second floor.

  It had to be her. The house was too quiet and her scent too fresh.

  Reaching the top of the stairs, he turned right toward the intriguing blend of jasmine and lavender. From outside he heard the click of a car door, followed by two more. Heavy footsteps approached the house. The three men from the Suburban were coming in. Perfect. That was a complication he didn’t need right now.

  The wolf snarled and the pearl pulsed erratically. The wolf protested, backing down only when it saw no other choice. The effort to contain both pushed him to his limit. Cole did his best to ignore them, following his heighted senses through what looked like a guestroom to a large attached bathroom. Morning light bounced off tiles of yellow and deep rose.

  He turned around slowly, scanning the space. Her scent was strongest in this room, fresh, almost as if she were standing next to him, close enough to touch. Opening the sliding glass door to the shower, he scanned the tiled walls. Running his hands over the surface, he caught on an edge blending almost seamlessly with the intricate design. A hidden room. Clever. No one had a room like this unless they expected trouble, and a typical reporter would didn’t fit the profile. Who is this woman?

  Without his heightened animal senses, he would likely have given the bathroom a cursory check and moved on, which made him damned good at his job.

  Thanks, boy. He smiled at the disdainful sniff he got in response.

  Tracking the movement of the men at the front door, a deep and protective instinct took over. He had to get to her and fast.

  Calling on the earth, Cole imagined a slight shifting of dirt and rock beneath the house, directly under the supportive structure of the wall at the seam of the door. Barely a moment later the house creaked, a slight movement, a minor earthquake. With his acute hearing, he tracked murmurs of concern from the men outside. Good. Hopefully it would buy them more time.

  The tips of his fingers elongating into sharp nails, Cole halted the change at his hands, his arms and body maintaining their human form. He breathed away the strain of holding his body between selves and inserted his half-claw, half-hand into the new crack in the tiles.

  Bracing one foot against the wall, he used his enormous strength to rip the reinforced door from its hinges.

  Chapter 5

  Someone was outside the safe room, stalking her. Bri’s heartrate spiked, her breath coming in shallow gasps. She sat on the only chair in the tiny room and stared down at the 9-millimeter Beretta in her hand, one of the many guns Jonah had stashed in the room and around her home. She was a good shot. Jonah and Mack had made sure of it, although she wasn’t at all certain she would be able to shoot anyone, even in self-defense. At the moment, her palms were so sweaty she probably couldn’t hold onto the gun and use it with any precision.

  The air suddenly vibrated and grew thick, like a blast of warmth on a hot day, stifling and cloying. The house shook and a crack of light pierced the darkness of the room.

  Her heart thudded, veins throbbing in her neck. Bri thought she might choke on it. Holding the cool metal of the gun in a slippery death grip, she waited. She would have a better fighting chance if she faced her attacker head on. The element of surprise might be her only advantage.

  The click of nails and a grunt of strength was all the warning she had. As if in slow motion, the crack of light became a beam, blinding her. Blinking, Bri raised the gun and aimed dead center at the broad chest of her unknown assailant.

  Seeing her face for the first time nearly brought Cole to his knees. He froze on the spot, and the wolf howled. The picture and his sketch held no comparison to the beauty of the woman before him. Tall, slender, and entrancing in faded blue jeans and white T-shirt, her long, blond hair fell in a heavy braid over her shoulder. The soft skin of her face, those lush green eyes, her deep jasmine and lavender scent, all magnetized him. He barely registered her startled gasp or the gun aimed at his heart.

  Bri knew him. It had been his face in her nightmare. His presence had soothed and calmed her that night. He stood right in front of her now and had just ripped the door off a room no one should have been able to find.

  Please don’t let him be my enemy, she whispered in her mind. Who else could he be?

  Holding the gun more firmly locked on her target, Bri hoped it deterred him because she knew she would never be able to shoot this beautiful man.

  “Are you going to shoot me?” His voice, strong and clear, didn’t sound too worried.

  Bri shivered. A sharp stab of desire shot straight through her, and at first she didn’t really register his words.

  “We don’t have much time,” he pressed.

  A thud downstairs startled her. The man moved fast. She had no time to react before he snatched the 9-millimeter easily out of her hand. He tucked it into the waistband of his jeans and grabbed her other arm.

  His touch was electric. When he took a step closer, he crowded her and she could almost feel the hard muscles of his broad chest. The loss of her gun left her completely vulnerable.

  He placed a finger lightly against her trembling lips and her stomach did a slow roll. “Don’t move. Don’t yell.” He whispered the words softly into the shell of her ear. “I’m here to help you, Brianna. You have to trust me.”

  She shivered. How did he know her name? She felt trapped, caught in an overpowering spell that heated her body. She was tall, but he was taller. And gorgeous, much better looking than she remembered from her nightmare. A part of her recognized she should be far more frightened of him than she was.

  “There are men downstairs tearing your house apart right now. I have no idea why they’re searching for you. I can get you out of here, but we have to go now.” A quiet command. “I’m not here to hurt you. Trust me.”

  Bri took a defensive step away. He didn’t let her go far, silver-gray eyes holding hers, willing her to believe him. The secret passageways inside the walls of the house would be too risky now that the room had been exposed.

  “The balcony in the guestroom . . . There’s a lattice we can climb down to get to the backyard,” she told him softly, pointing to the room off the bathroom.

  The man gave her a sharp nod and pulled her behind him, half dragging her into the adjoining room. His black leather jacket no doubt hid a gun in a harness, though his blue jeans and loafers were nondescript enough for him to blend in. Why she found all of that s
exy, she had no idea.

  A crash from downstairs made her jump. Shaking her head to clear it, Bri stopped and tried to tug her arm away. “How do you know my name?”

  “Later.” His fingers slid lightly down her arm to grab her wrist. “Let’s move.”

  Her skin tingled at the warm strength of his grip, and she didn’t resist. They crossed to the French doors at the far end of the bedroom.

  “It’s Bri,” she whispered.

  “What?” He glanced at her.

  “Bri, everyone calls me Bri.” She blushed as she stumbled on the explanation, which couldn’t matter less given their situation. They had to get out of the house, and then she could worry about how the hell he knew who she was.

  “Cole.” For a moment, their eyes locked. Desire flared and electricity leapt between them.

  Heavy footsteps on the stairs two floors below brought her to her senses. She had to get out of here. I can’t refuse his offer to help. When she was safe she’d worry about how this man had appeared in her nightmare and then in her house right when she needed saving.

  Cole turned and held her hand tight against his lower back, forcing her to follow him closely. Out on the balcony he stopped abruptly. Bri plowed into him.

  He spun around to catch her, and they both froze. Bri felt every contact point in the press of his body against hers, the hardness of his desire growing warm against her stomach. He made no move to hide it. The air left her lungs in a rush and her body sang, heat gathering deep and low.

  “Can you climb down?” His question was a soft whisper that curled her toes.

  She nodded and swallowed hard; lust and adrenaline coursing through her system made her light-headed. “I’ll follow you.”

  Cole gestured abruptly. “You first.”

  He pushed her forward and whirled, gun in hand, at the sound of footsteps now in the hall. Bri grabbed the lattice and climbed down as quickly as she could, wincing as she crushed ivy on the way. A moment later, Cole landed in a graceful crouch beside her.

  “Okay?” He reached for her hand.

  The man’s smile completely disarmed her. She brushed leaves from her clothing and nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  Cole casually laced his fingers with hers, the gun he’d taken from her rock steady in his other hand as he led the way around the side of her house.

  She glanced at their joined hands. It felt odd, too intimate for just having met someone, and yet comforting, familiar. Mesmerized by the efficiency of his movements and the graceful touch of his feet, so light on the ground, she watched him scan the area.

  With a glance around the backyard, Cole led them along the side of the house to the fence. He slowed as they approached and tugged on her hand. They ducked behind her neighbor’s hydrangea at the corner of her yard. From there, he had a good view of the front door and a clear shot to the street. The Suburban stood empty. They had a chance to get out while the men checked the house. He let go of Bri’s hand to call Danny to pick them up.

  Before he could dial, Bri started firing questions at him in a demanding whisper.

  “Who are you? How do you know me? How did you get here?”

  Staying low to the ground, he turned to face her. The effect she had on him was dizzying. Wisps of blond hair escaped her thick braid. Looking at her smooth, flushed skin heated his blood. Although the compulsion had quieted since he’d found her, the pearl remained a heavy presence in his solar plexus. The damn thing most likely caused this intense physical reaction. He tried to ignore it.

  “None of this makes a whole hell of a lot of sense to me,” was all he could give her. He had no good way to explain his appearance at her house that would sound at all rational.

  Those green eyes came alive, flashing with confusion and desire, an entrancing combination. Squatting there beside her, he couldn’t help admire her small, perfectly shaped breasts, accentuated by the snug white T-shirt she wore. Bri was entirely too distracting.

  She snapped her fingers in front of his face, enabling him to focus on her voice instead of her body.

  “Give me the highlights,” she insisted stubbornly, shifting her position, staying low. “Why did you come to my house?”

  “I’m hoping you can help me figure that out,” he replied carefully. Her inner reporter would do backflips if he gave her the truth.

  She cocked her head to one side and leaned her forearms on her knees. “Really?” She drew the word out. “You have no idea?”

  “Obviously I came here to find you, because here you are,” he pointed out.

  “How clever,” she muttered, narrowing her eyes. Lines of consternation creased the soft skin of her forehead, and he gave her a half smile.

  She arched her eyebrows. “Are we having the same conversation? Because you aren’t making any sense.”

  “I know this sounds crazy, and believe me it is.” He had to reassure her, and no choice but to tell her the truth. “You really can trust me.”

  “Can I?” she shot back sarcastically.

  “Look, I’ll explain everything I know as soon as we get out of here. We need to leave now. Those men are no joke.” The urge to get her to safety rode him hard.

  She glanced nervously at her house. “I know.”

  The fine hair on the back of his neck perked up, and he crouched even lower to the ground.

  “What?” she demanded in a whisper, scooting a little closer.

  Cole held up a hand for silence. “I don’t hear anything.” Nothing. No one blundered around in the house, no footsteps inside or out.

  “What do you mean?” She gripped his arm.

  He gestured with his head toward her house. “Listen . . . We should be fighting for our lives right about now. They would have found the door to your safe room and come looking for us.”

  Bri’s eyes flared—his only warning. Before he could react, Cole felt the barrel of a gun on his neck.

  His wolf howled, and then everything went dark.

  Chapter 6

  Cole’s body smacked the hard ground, and Bri scrambled to her feet. She’d seen Mack out of the corner of her eye, but Cole had been unconscious before she’d had a chance to warn him.

  Glaring at her father’s muscular bodyguard, she bent down next to the fallen man to feel for a pulse, relieved to find a steady beat under his warm skin.

  “Who is this, Bri?” Mack glowered at her, golden eyes glittering dangerously.

  She snatched her hand to her chest and stood. “Don’t look at me like that. I have no idea who he is!” She protested the suspicion in his eyes. “What did you do to him?”

  “I knocked him out,” Mack said dismissively. “He’ll be conscious again in an hour or so.”

  “He wasn’t trying to hurt me,” Bri insisted. Why she believed that so strongly was beyond her.

  Bri watched Mack bend down to check Cole’s body, no doubt for weapons. Growing suspicious, she wondered how Mack had managed to knock Cole out without lifting a finger.

  When the bodyguard stood, he held two sketches that had been tucked in the breast pocket of Cole’s leather jacket. Examining the images with a frown, he raised a questioning eyebrow and handed them to her.

  “We’ll take him with us,” he stated, already dragging Cole’s limp body toward the shelter of the garage. “We’ll see what he knows and why he was here, once we get you to safety.”

  She nodded, distracted by the sketches. One was clearly of her. The artist had taken care with the details of her face, especially her eyes. As she shifted her attention to the other drawing, her breath caught. The face staring at her from the black and gray lines mesmerized her. They were her mother’s eyes, the nightmare woman, thinner than Bri remembered and more severe, but the resemblance was too strong to ignore.

  Bri’s h
and shook, and the paper fluttered. She crushed the sketch to her chest and followed Mack into the garage. Cole had told her he didn’t know why he’d been there. Was he the artist? She needed to know everything he could tell her about the woman in the sketch.

  This man had shown up in her nightmare at the same moment she finally saw the elusive figure who bore a striking resemblance to her mother. Impossible. And he’d appeared on her doorstep when her house happened to come under attack. As a reporter, her job was to get answers, and this was possibly the most important story she could imagine investigating.

  Her own.

  The black Suburban, now empty, was still parked out front. She turned to her father’s bodyguard, a man who had been like an uncle to her. “Mack . . . what happened in there? Who were those men? FBI?”

  He glanced up with a touch of sadness. “Not FBI. There were three of them. And they won’t be bothering anyone anymore.”

  “Did you kill them?” She could barely hear her question over the thundering of her heart.

  “Yes,” he replied without inflection.

  Bri tried to control the trembling of her body. “We should call the police.”

  He deposited Cole’s body inside the garage door. “No police. A cleanup crew is on the way. We need to get out of here.”

  A cleanup crew meant dead bodies. She swallowed against the sudden lurching of her stomach and stared up at the ceiling. “Mack, we can’t—”

  “Bri, we don’t have time to discuss it,” he interrupted. “It’s done.”

  It wasn’t that she was unfamiliar with death. As a reporter she wrote about it, sometimes witnessed it. Yet her she was, now an accessory to three murders.

  She’d always secretly wondered if Jonah had ties to organized crime. She tried not to let Mack’s handling of this situation convict them in her mind. She was a reporter, and knew jumping to conclusions without all the facts could be dangerous. Yet, who had a personal bodyguard like Mack? Who could do something like this and get away with it? Her heart dropped into her stomach. The man she had always thought of as family had just killed. He’d done the job quickly and efficiently, and didn’t seem remorseful.