Page 37 of His to Claim

Humans. What if there were wolves in our midst? I rolled my eyes, at least allowing a series of lighter thoughts to enter my mind.

I stared at my phone, rubbing my finger back and forth across the screen. Chris had left a message. Why did the thought sicken me so much?

My hand was shaking as I maneuvered to the saved voicemail and once I pressed listen, I held my breath.

Vanessa (long pause)

I wanted to check on you. I heard about the attack. I’m truly sorry. Of course, take the day off to recuperate and if there is anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate. I do care very much for you.

There was no real sincerity in his voice, except for the last sentence. He cared for me? I wanted nothing more than to delete the voicemail, but my same nagging inner voice told me to keep it. I’d make an official call to the office later. Groaning, I slid my phone across the table, moving toward the coffeepot. After pouring a hefty cup, I sat down to make notes.

Including what little I could remember about the attack.

With the majority of victims I’d talked with over my years as counsel, these kinds of attacks left the victim jarred, unable to remember even the most egregious details. I was no exception. Almost everything that had occurred was still a blur. I could blame it on the darkness or the amount of alcohol I’d consumed, but from the second I’d felt an arm wrapping around my neck, everything was a fuzzy mess. Fortunately, from what I’d been told, two of the attackers were recovering in the hospital, the third still at large.

One of the bastards had serious injuries.

There’d been a hero in the garage, a man who’d attempted to save me.

A wolf prepared to kill for you.

I eased back from the computer, realizing I hadn’t taken a single sip of coffee and an hour and a half had gone by. I had a few minutes to leave a message on the office answering service prior to it being turned off. At this moment, I didn’t want to answer any additional questions and I certainly didn’t want to run the risk of being forced to have any kind of conversation with Chris.

Not until I had my ducks in a row.

What I needed was to get into the basement of the building, searching the paper records for anything having to do with Lucas. Until I figured out what Chris knew, I’d stay off the computer system. I wasn’t here to find evidence to turn in the company.

Even though that would be an excellent perk.

I’d offloaded a hefty volume of data from the first time I’d taken information, details on Chris’ business that would incriminate him in several ways. The second batch only added fuel to the ever increasing fire. I tapped my fingers against the table, my instincts shifting to my years spent in law school. I was an officer of the law after all.

I navigated to Jack’s email, keeping my words short and tight. If the FBI wanted to pursue filing charges, he could certainly do so, especially since international wire fraud was involved. Before hitting send, I knew my decision would bring a round of questions or worse, but at least my conscience would be clear.

While you pursue a hopeless task.

I bit back a groan as I leaned back in my chair, somehow shifting to the pictures stored on my phone. Maybe I needed some reassurance that I wasn’t completely out of my mind. Even after enlarging the photo of a photo, I could barely tell what my father looked like. Still, it had comforted me over the past few years, giving me a needed anchoring point.

I belonged to someone, maybe had additional family somewhere in Denver.

I tossed my phone, rubbing my eyes, just as lost as before. My thoughts drifted to the night before and the hulking man standing outside my window. Had Stone followed me home, attempting to protect me once again? I rubbed my arms as I remembered the look in his eyes the moment he’d cornered the asshole. No, it wasn’t the look but his actual eyes. They were shimmering in yellow gold.

Inhuman.

Wolfen.

As I glanced at the computer screen again, I took a deep breath before opening a new window on the Internet.

And I began typing.

I’d searched several key words and variations of them over the last few years, finding every story and lore on wolves, werewolves, shifters, and other beasts of the night. I’d even searched for actual sightings, finding mostly nutcases with a desire for their fifteen minutes of fame.

Another hour had gone by and in my mind had been wasted. I was angry with myself for almost every decision I’d made over the course of the last few months. Everything was heading for a dead end. In frustration, I added the word Denver to my search, expecting nothing but another goose chase. I was surprised to see several pages pop up on Google, although the first two pages were little more than ghost stories.

But a single entry on the third page forced me to sit up in my chair. A newspaper article from almost twenty years before. The headline?Are There Wolfen Living in Denver?

I was eager yet skeptical, counting to three before I pressed on the link.

As I began to scan the article, the first part brought me back to the very book I’d read as a child. Every part of me tingled as I continued, moving onto the meat of the story. I could only imagine the rebuff the reporter had received, his insistence that there was an ancient breed of humans with the capability of transforming into wolves living just outside of Denver in a town called Roselake.