Читать книгу Ghost Wolf - Michele Hauf - Страница 11

Chapter 5

Daisy got a hand up from Beck. She noticed Beck did not stand tall before her father, but instead bowed his head, showing submission, as was expected when a lesser wolf stood before a pack alpha.

Most men might stand up to Malakai, to grandstand in an attempt to show him he couldn’t be pushed around. Those men generally walked away limping or bleeding.

Much as her anger for her father tightened her muscles, Daisy appreciated that Beck showed her father respect.

“Hello, Mister Saint-Pierre,” Beck said.

“What the hell are you doing here with my daughter?” Kai asked.

“Daddy, please.”

“Quiet, Daisy. I’m talking to Beckett.” The taller wolf was dressed in a leather jacket, his long curly dark hair pulled back behind his head to reveal his square jaw held in a tense frown. “Are you two on a date?”

“Uh...” Beck looked to her.

“Of course we are,” she broke in. “And will you stop treating me like I’m a teenager? I’m a grown woman. I can see whomever—”

Kai’s hand landed on Daisy’s shoulder, a staying move that he’d employed as she’d grown up. A means to show her he was not to be trifled with, and must always be respected. It was his gentle way of showing authority.

And she quieted.

“You won’t be seeing this lone wolf,” Kai said, his gaze fixed to Beck’s, who had trouble holding the alpha’s stare. “Isn’t that right, Beckett?”

“Uh, sir.” Beck’s shoulders rolled back. He tucked his thumbs in his pants pockets and looked Kai straight in the eye. “I don’t want to cause any problems, but I think Daisy can choose whomever she wishes to date.”

Daisy smiled inwardly. Go, Beck!

“Are you trying to tell me how to run my family, boy? My pack? Because it sure sounds like it.”

“No, sir. I— It’s our first time out together.”

“And you thought it was okay to kiss my daughter?”

“Daddy,” Daisy said under her breath. “Do not do this.”

The fireworks had ceased. The night sky grew dark with few stars. The waxing moon hid beyond the tree line. While the humans tromped back to their cars, the trio of werewolves held position at the top of the hill. Daisy scented her father’s anger, and yet, there was a tangible softness to it. Similar to how he reacted when she’d made a mistake when she was little. Like maybe he was puffing up to show aggression in display but didn’t mean it as much as he showed it.

But she hadn’t made a mistake this time. At least, she didn’t want it to be a mistake. She could understand that her father wouldn’t want her hanging around an unaligned wolf, but to approach her when they’d been kissing had been too much. She wanted to tuck tail and crawl off into the woods.

“I’ll take Daisy home,” Beck said.

“No, you won’t. I’ll drive her home,” Kai asserted.

“I brought her here. I won’t abandon her,” Beck said, his shoulders tilting back a little farther.

“I said I’d take her home, boy.”

“I want Beck to drive me, Daddy.”

Malakai Saint-Pierre twisted his neck to look down at Daisy. The menace in his gaze could never be softened, and it did not fail to strike at her heart. She swallowed back her bravery and bowed her head. When would she be able to break free of her father’s influence? Was it even possible?

“Get in the car, Daisy,” her father said.

Beck bent to pick up the thermos and handed it to her. “I’m sorry about this.”

“No, I am,” she offered. “This isn’t how things should have gone tonight.” Inhaling a deep breath, she swept her gaze over her father’s stare then wandered down the hill.

She hated leaving Beck at the hands of her father. And what had he done? He’d only wanted to get to know her better. Rare was it a guy actually asked her on a date to do something, as opposed to wanting to go straight to her house to make out on the couch. She craved the wooing process. And that kiss. It could have been amazing had her father not shown up.

Glancing up the hill, Daisy saw that her father was already on his way down. Whew. He hadn’t given Beck a chewing-out. Her father was not a cruel man, but he was feared for the very reason that his physicality was remarkable. It was the rare wolf in this area who could stand against him, alpha or otherwise.

Daisy got into the old pickup truck and pulled the door shut with the duct-taped handle. As her father got in, she tucked her legs up to her chest and twisted to face the window. The engine rattled, and the truck took off.

“He’s arrogant,” Kai said after they’d driven a few miles.

“He’s kind.”

“I’ve invited him to join our pack too many times.”

Daisy swung her head around and met her father’s brief glance. “How many is too many? Two? And the one time he was grieving his lost father.”

“Two too many. He’s refused both times. Says he doesn’t need a pack. That’s arrogance, if you ask me. Stay the hell away from him, Daisy Blu.”

Beck had every right to refuse her father. Daisy could imagine that if he had grown up with a father who had been a lone wolf, then the idea of a pack must be odd to him. Overwhelming. Perhaps even threatening.

“You’re not going to stay away from him, are you?” Kai asked softly.

Daisy bit her lower lip to fight the tears that threatened to spill down her cheek. She wanted to do the right thing in her father’s eyes. But her right and his right weren’t in alignment now. And she was a grown woman. Too old to still have her father tailing after her, approving or denying her choice in men.

“Daisy?”

“I don’t know,” she finally said.

Kai’s sigh rippled through her skin and twanged at her heart.

* * *

The afternoon had been designated for research. Scanning the internet, Daisy tried various search words, starting with “ghost wolf,” which brought up nothing. The data on werewolves provided for interesting reading, some laughs and a lot of head shaking. Eventually she typed in Fenrir, the name of a Norse god who was the son of Loki.

“The ghost wolf obviously isn’t Fenrir,” she said as she scanned the information. But there were some similarities. A monstrous wolf often depicted in paintings as white or ghostlike, he could not be restrained, save by a delicate ribbon named Gleipnir.

Though it was fascinating, it wasn’t getting Daisy any closer to results. The article needed facts, or in this case, some kind of legend to compare to the ghost wolf, at the very least. The creature was larger than life. She needed to communicate that on the page.

“I need a picture,” she said. “That would be the ultimate scoop.”

When her breed shifted to their werewolf shape, they could not be photographed. Well, they could be, but none had been that she knew of. They were fiercely protective of their secret. And should a hunter manage to snap a photograph? A quick slap of claws destroyed the camera.

What would ultimately show up on film, she wasn’t sure. Nothing, much like a vampire? Or a ghost image of the werewolf? If the ghost wolf was already transparent or some kind of filmy state, the results on film were unimaginable.

She eyed her winter clothes hanging by the door. “I’ll go out early in the evening.”

The majority of hunters would be packing up and returning home for supper at that time, yet the ghost wolf sightings had been just after dusk.

Wishing she could give Beck a call and invite him along, Daisy waffled on the idea. Her father had been adamant about her staying away from him. Yet she’d been impressed by Beck standing up to her father. He’d cowered initially, to show respect, but hadn’t been about to yield to Kai’s demands without stating his own position.

“I could like him,” she said to herself, remembering their conversation about love and like last night. Like was the goal. Love would simply be a happy bonus.

* * *

Beck had felt humiliated standing before Daisy’s father last night. He should have stood up to the elder wolf, but it had been the right choice to show respect for the man, despite his intrusion on their date. He’d learned from his father that a man must never jump to hasty violence or make judgments of a man he did not know. If Saint-Pierre didn’t want him to date his daughter...

“Hell.” Beck wandered the edge of the forest a mile from where he’d parked. “He’ll kill me if I see her again.” Or at the very least, tear him a new one with a slash of claw.

But he kind of thought Daisy liked him. Make that love. Like was something even better than love, according to her. He agreed with her definition of it, too.

Man, did he like her hot chocolate.

Did she want to see him again? She hadn’t called. But then, she didn’t have his number, nor did he have hers. He’d thought about stopping by her place today, but didn’t want to push it. Certainly, Malakai would scent him if he showed up anywhere near his daughter’s home.

Was he going to let some big boisterous wolf scare him away from the girl? Was she worth the risk?

Beck nodded. The kiss hadn’t left him. He could still feel her at his mouth, sighing into him. Clinging to his clothing and leaning in closer. Sweetly hungry. And her kisses had tasted like chocolate.

“I’m going for it,” he muttered. Because he knew a good thing when it kissed him.

Now, with the sun tracing a vibrant orange line on the horizon, he shed his winter coat and boots and pulled off his sweater. Steam lifted off his hot skin as the cold assaulted his torso and arms. He stored a waterproof backpack in a hollowed-out oak trunk. The worst thing after shifting back from werewolf form was to find his clothes sitting in a puddle of snow that had melted from the lingering body heat.

Shoving down his jeans, he shuffled barefoot in the cold snow, and when he was naked he stretched back his arms and head, breathing in the crisp night air. The world was gorgeous, and he loved breathing it in. But the very reason he stood here was enough to make him want to punch something.

And then he knew he didn’t have to. His shifted form would take care of matters nicely.

A gunshot in the distance alerted him. He judged it a few miles off. This time of day, most hunters were packing it in and heading home.

No time to waste.

Bending forward and narrowing his focus inward, Beck began to shift. His human skin stretched and prickled as fur grew in the pores and his bones lengthened. Claws grew out from his paws, and his hind legs formed into the powerful werewolf’s legs. His maw grew long, and ears twisted into long, furred beacons that picked up every movement and sound from mouse to fox, to...hunter.

Beck’s werewolf rose to an imposing height, sniffed the air and homed onto the scent of human.

* * *

Daisy kept the hunters in view, while hoping to stay out of their line of sight. She wore a vivid orange hunter’s vest over her winter coat. She’d no plans to shift tonight—not with armed hunters in the forest. But she certainly didn’t want to be so incognito that she invited a bullet.

Her camera wasn’t the best at taking night shots. And now as she leaned against the base of an oak tree, fumbling with the settings, she wished she did have something more high-powered. She’d never win the internship by handing in grainy night shots.

Thinking it would have been awesome to have someone along to keep her company on this cold dark evening, her mind drifted to Beck’s sweet smile and those entrancing blue eyes.

So maybe she was getting her flirt on with him. Felt kind of awesome.

He hadn’t called her today. She didn’t know what his number was. She thought he might have stopped by. Her father must have put fear in the handsome wolf.

Daisy decided if Beck never showed again, then that meant he wasn’t deserving of her interest. Only a wolf who dared defy her father would be worthy of her time. At least, that was the romantic version she played in her head. In reality, she knew Beck was better off staying away from her and avoiding Kai’s wrath.

Too bad. Beck’s hasty confession to loving her because she had a talent with hot chocolate had won her over. The way to a man’s heart was through food. And she wasn’t beyond utilizing such tactics. But as well, his kiss was not to be overlooked. If she never felt his kiss again, the world might never again be as bright. Heck, she’d seen fireworks during that kiss. It didn’t get any better than that.

She knew where his shop was. Nothing was stopping her from driving over to see him. “No,” she muttered. “He needs to come to me.”

A gunshot alerted her, and she whipped her head around, along with the camera. Set at its highest zoom, she peered through the lens and spotted movement. She’d turned the flash off.

There were two of them. Hunters. She saw the shotguns they held. Not aimed at anything because the wooden stocks were slung against their shoulders. And they were running for their lives.

Tilting the camera to the right, she caught a blur of white tracking through the birch trunks in the hunters’ wake.

“The ghost wolf.” Daisy tracked the blur, snapping shots repeatedly.

The frightened mortals ran within a hundred feet of her. She recognized the hunter in the lead. He had bright red hair and was known in town simply as Red, a Scottish farmer transplanted from his country to Minnesota through love and marriage. She didn’t recognize the man behind him, but he yelled for Red to hurry and get to the truck.

Then she scented the wolf. It was angry and feral, and so close she could hear its breathing. Steady, not taxed, and punctuated with vicious growls. Shaped like a werewolf, she estimated it grew two feet taller than even her father when he was shifted. It was indeed white, but a sort of filmy white, perhaps even transparent.

Remembering her mission, Daisy clicked a rapid succession of shots. When the hunters exited the forest and slammed the truck doors, the wolf paused at the tree line. It smashed out its fists to the sides, cracking the tall birch trunks, and howled. It was like no wolf howl Daisy had ever heard. The haunting noise climbed up her spine and prickled under her skin. She shivered, and sank down against the tree trunk in fear.

Her camera hand dropping to the snowy forest floor, she cast her gaze upward as the white werewolf stalked toward her.

The truck peeled away on the icy country road, its back end fishtailing until the chainless tires achieved traction.

And Daisy wished she had hitched a ride with the idiot hunters as she looked up into the ghost wolf’s red eyes.