Scent of His Woman Read online

  She spoke before anyone else could.

  “Sir,” she addressed Ryker directly, “please, could you let us see my sister? We’ve driven for hours to get here. We’re very anxious to get our arms around her.”

  “Of course.”

  Crisis avoided, she let her shoulders relax. Even she knew better than to think they were out of the woods when it came to trouble. Ryker was running Drew’s show in his stead. When she did have nightmares, Ryker was always the star. Standing there, telling them they had to leave the only home she’d ever known while the sound of Magnum’s laughter sounded all around her.

  ***

  Three days later….

  Clayton hated people. He wished he was exaggerating his distaste, but, unfortunately, after forty-five years, he knew himself quite well. He tugged his coat around him and put his head down to avoid getting hit in the face by the rain.

  He hadn’t seen Mags in three days, and they were the longest of his life. He’d gone years without really addressing anyone, communicating over email from his cabin to his editors and publishing house. One trip into the city to get a little feel for the current state of humanity and everything changed. Didn’t the woman realize he came in every day only to see her? Drove an hour and a half each morning to simply look at her lovely face?

  Then he’d kissed her—which he’d thought she wanted, too—and she’d disappeared. He took a deep breath. She was skittish. He’d have to be gentle and approach more gently.

  Before any of that could happen, he had to find her. The address of her parents’ dress store tucked safely in his pocket, he knew where he was going. Anything could be worked out on the internet. He hadn’t even needed to call upon his years in the Denver PD to help him although he would have. She wasn’t getting away until they could talk again.

  He rubbed at his arm and then cursed the need. Rain always made the old injury ache if he ventured outside. Better to stay in his cabin, with the fire blazing in the fireplace, and a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen.

  Except if he did that, there wouldn’t be a chance to ever have Mags there with him.

  He could see there curled up on the couch, sewing as she told him she liked to do. She wanted to make children’s clothes. Since her parents made dresses, the skill must run in the family.

  Clay stopped walking in front of the store. A colorfully decorated window dressing filled with smiling mannequins wearing pastels stared out at him. He shuddered. There were going to be people inside the store, and he had to convince them to let him speak to Mags.

  It really wouldn’t do to tell them mannequins creeped him out. He hadn’t considered using them before, only he should clearly shove one in the book he was working on. Let his detective have to deal with dead-eyed mannequins.

  Clay entered the store, listening to the small bell ding a happy sound as he walked in. A woman—an older version of Mags, except she had red hair instead of blonde—looked at him from across the counter.

  He opened and closed his mouth twice. This was Mags’s mother. Clayton needed to make a good impression. Only he didn’t do parents.

  What to say exactly?

  “Hello.” He nodded and walked toward her.

  She raised a pale eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

  “My name is Clayton Davies. I’m hoping you can tell me, ma’am, where I can find Mags.” If he’d had a hat, he would have held it in his hands. Asking anyone for what he wanted drove him crazy. He lived in a world where you took what you wanted or you lost out.

  Only he couldn’t demand the woman give up her daughter’s location or face the wrath of Clayton.

  Mags’s mother leaned down behind the counter and then came around toward him holding a towel. She handed it to him, which he took with a nod of thanks. Like her daughter, the woman was considerate.

  “I’m Catherine Holden, Magnolia’s mother. Everything is suddenly making sense.” She looked him up and down. “You should carry an umbrella or wear something over your head. You’re fragile. It won’t do to have you get sick. We’re all going to have to focus on things like illness, aren’t we?”

  “I….” He couldn’t make sense of her train of thought, but that wasn’t a new problem for him. “Yes, thing is, I don’t frequently come out in the rain. Can you tell me where I can find Mags?”

  Catherine sighed and walked hands on her hips to the side of the store. “You smell very nice. Like the woods where I grew up, which is interesting. I guess, again, not surprising.”

  “Thank you?” Clayton took a deep breath. He did bathe every day, sometimes more often if he got dirty. Not that he particularly wanted to discuss his hygiene habits with Mags’s mother.

  “Are you in love with my daughter?” She turned to look at him as she asked the question. Catherine was an intense woman. She held eye contact very well; he’d bet nothing intimidated her.

  She’d hit him with the big question first. Cut right to the chase.

  “For the last month, I have driven an hour and a half into this city to sit in a coffee shop for the sole reason that I would get to see your daughter for a few minutes each morning. I don’t like people. I don’t chat. I think most human beings are one step away from being sociopathic. I’ve been to doctors, had my head shrunk. I was a detective in the Denver, PD. I saw things I don’t ever intend to speak about. Your daughter…I haven’t known her long enough to use the word love. I don’t believe in love at first sight. The first morning she didn’t come, three days ago, I stopped being able to sleep, to eat, to work. I feel very serious about her.”

  Catherine tapped her foot. “You’ll do, I think.”

  He wasn’t sure her words constituted an endorsement. “Thanks?”

  “I have two daughters. Has Mags mentioned her sister, Elizabeth, who most people call Betty?”

  “Yes.” She’d laughed about something Betty said, mentioned a pregnancy. “A few times.”

  Mags’s mother stepped closer to him. “Her ma…man, ahem, husband has been seriously injured. My husband and Mags have run back to our hometown to be there for her.”

  She’d stumbled over a word, and Catherine didn’t strike him as a woman who fumbled. The whys of her misspeak didn’t matter. Seeing Mags again was the only priority. “I’m sorry to hear about your son-in-law. Do you know when Mags will be back?” Tomorrow, he hoped.

  “No. It’s very serious.”

  His chest tightened. “I see.”

  “I should be there myself. I was supposed to spend one more day here before closing the store for a while, but Thomas, Mags’s father, let me know things are very out of hand currently. There are some people in our hometown whom we’d rather not spend time with. He asked me to stay here for the time being.”

  Clayton didn’t like what she implied. Her husband wanted his wife to avoid an element in their hometown, but he had Mags with him there? He didn’t like the thought one bit. “Is Mags safe?”

  “For the moment. You’re very astute. I like you, I’ve decided. Here is the thing. I have two daughters, and I love them both so much. Someday, when you have children—he tried not to gawk at the word. Kids?— “you’ll see that you have to take each child as they come, meet their needs individually as best you can. Betty is suffering and I am not in any way going to downplay her pain. Only on a good day, and these are not those, she has a tendency to suck up all the energy in the room with her personality. It’s a good trait for her role in life. Trust me. Mags has a quieter way. She can get lost. Her gifts overlooked.”

  Clayton wasn’t going to let anyone run over Magnolia. “I can go. Make sure she’s fine.” Bring her home, family or no family, if she is unhappy.

  “I’ll tell you where she is, if you promise me you’ll be very careful.”

  “I am a man who can take care of myself, and your daughter for that matter.”

  She placed her hand on his arm. “I believe you, and while you aren’t exactly what I had in mind, I’m th
rilled. It’s a new dawn. I have to believe. Mags is in a town called Los Lobos. I’m already taking a risk telling you that much. Find her, Clayton. Find her in a town that’s not on any maps.”

  Catherine turned her back, and he took it to mean she was done with their conversation.

  Mags’s family was certainly interesting. Then again, so was his. Drunk mother, passive-aggressive dad. He’d take her strange-talking mother and mysterious roots any day. He needed to see Mags, taste her rose petal lips again, look in her blue eyes, and know there was a reason to get up in the morning.

  “Thank you, Catherine.”

  He exited the store into the rain. She was right. He needed to get an umbrella. Not that he considered himself particularly fragile. Kind of hard to kill, actually.

  Mags was in a town called Los Lobos that wasn’t on any maps.

  No matter. He’d find her.

  He knew just how to start.

  Everyone had cell phones. He needed to find their cell tower. And good thing he had an old friend from the force who, for a bottle of scotch, would find it for him.

  ***

  Four days since Drew was shot….

  Three men surrounded him the second he hiked over the border. If he’d known he was going to be immediately surrounded, he would have tried to bring his car closer in. They were tall, and Clayton wasn’t short. He looked them over. What kind of steroids were the residents of Los Lobos taking?

  “Sir.” A tall, blond one spoke first. “We’re going to need you to turn around, hike down, and get back into your car and leave. This town is closed for the moment. Any business you have with any of its residents is going to have to wait.”

  A lesser person would be intimidated. Only Clayton didn’t give a shit what others did or did not want from him. If Mags was in there, that’s where he was going.

  “I’m here to see Magnolia Holden. I’m not going to leave until I do. Or I could get back in my car and call the local media and let them know there might be a reason to check out the town.”

  Brown hair next to blond answered. “You’re not going to want to do that. Trust us, you want to talk to us. Not the man in charge. Get back in the car, cause no trouble, and don’t make us get Ryker to come out here and speak with you. Please.”

  A scream sounded out into the night, and all three men jolted at the sound. He didn’t know what had happened, but they looked like a truck had hit them.

  “You’re having a problem. I don’t know what it is. I’d guess you’d rather be wherever that scream came from than messing with me. Take me to Mags. I’ll deal with Ryker.”

  Brown hair spoke again. “Colt?”

  “Shit. Come with me. If Ryker takes off my head for this, Tasha will kill me.”

  One step closer.

  Chapter Two

  Mags wanted to throw up. She hated pain, hated death, hated anything she couldn’t soothe. She’d actually gotten to shift the day before, but it had done nothing for her constant nausea. Humans were dying. Five of them, so far. Drew wouldn’t wake, and her sister seemed to grow skinnier and skinnier, more and more fatigued, which couldn’t be good for the baby.

  Betty snarled at one of the healers, Wen. “Your job is to fix him. So fix him. It has been days.”

  Mags walked forward and placed her hand on her sister’s shoulders. Betty didn’t react like she felt her there at all. So lost without her mate, existing in a state of constant misery….

  “I would fix him if I could.” Wen motioned to Bastian, a human doctor mated to a pack member. Mags was having a hard time keeping track of who was who, having not been here when everyone either joined or returned to Los Lobos. “Bastian would as well.”

  “The bullet. Is it moving at all?”

  Drew was unconscious. If he woke up and tried to shift, the bullet would move, and not necessarily in a good way. One inch in the wrong direction and it would tear through Drew’s heart killing him, one inch the other way, he could shift and be better.

  None of it mattered, since Drew wouldn’t wake. None of them knew why except a general sense that his body kept him asleep as some sort of resistance to shifting when it might kill him. The healers were helpless.

  Bastian, a human who was as much at risk as any of the other humans, spoke. “I could help if it weren’t lodged so far inside him. We don’t know enough about this to stick him under the knife. What do the drugs do to you guys? We just have no idea. He might shift from the administration and then we’re done before we start.”

  Betty lunged forward, and Mags’s hold on her arm was all that was keeping her sister back. She would not let go, would not let Betty make a mistake she couldn’t undo while she wasn’t in her right mind.

  “Then what good are any of you?”

  The door swung open, and Ryker walked into the room with another male. It took Mags a second to realize what was happening. Held in a death grip by the man who made her want to run and hide every time he came in the house was Clayton Davies, her mate who she could never have.

  Mags could hardly breathe. “What is going on?”

  “Hello, sweetheart.” Clayton looked down at Ryker’s grip on his arm. “I would try to fight back, but I have a pretty good sense of self-preservation. I’m hoping once you tell him you know me, he’ll let me go. I’m not usually intimidated by anyone but this guy…he gives off a real…I don’t know how to put it.”

  He didn’t need to explain what he couldn’t have the vocabulary for. Ryker made dominant wolves shake in their shoes. Clayton would never understand the dominance struggle, not the way wolves got it.

  “Let him go. Please.”

  Ryker raised a dark eyebrow. “He belongs to you?”

  “Yes. He does. He’s mine.” Her declaration meant something different to everyone in the room than it would to Clayton, and that was fine. When they got home, he never had to know she’d declared him her mate in front of the enforcer of a wolf-shifter pack.

  Ryker dropped his arm. “This is not a safe time for him to be here.”

  “I didn’t know he was coming. I’ll take responsibility.”

  “You understand what it means. If he reveals any secrets he shouldn’t know, it’s on you, Magnolia. You take the fall for his inability to keep his mouth shut.”

  Betty snarled, a loud animal-like noise Mags knew she’d never be able to cover up. “Did you just threaten my sister?”

  “Betty….” Her sister charged forward and, when she tried to grab her again, Clayton pulled her against him instead. He was warm, safe, he smelled like home, and, for a split second, Mags let herself sag into him.

  Her ease was short-lived because Betty had apparently crossed a line she wasn’t coming back from. Mags looked around, hoping their father had magically reappeared in the room. He was nowhere to be seen. Drew remained unconscious in the bed, and no one in the world was going to be able to stop the explosion happening in front of her eyes.

  “I gave her the same warning Drew gives to every mated couple involving a non-wolf shifter.”

  Any hope Mags had of figuring out how to explain this to Clayton without using the word shifter faded away. Okay, she was going to have to deal with the truth and hope she didn’t die for it. Not that Clayton seemed like the type to go blabbing around….

  Betty pointed at her. “That is my sister, and on that bed is my mate. If you think for one second Drew would have ever threatened her life, then you don’t know him very well at all.”

  “The rules are the same for everyone.”

  Mags had to give Ryker credit—he could do deadly intent better than anyone on the planet.

  “I am so sick to death of this, Ryker. We wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with if it weren’t for you. All of it is your fault. If you hadn’t run Drew off pack land for Magnum—and, hell, if I have to hear one more time about your honor, about the oaths you took, I’m going to puke in my mouth. Some things you just don’t do. He could have sto
pped this earlier. Then we wouldn’t have so many crazies running around shooting at humans, trying to kill my mate. You threaten Mags when you can’t even take care of the ones we already have here? All of this is on you. Hands down. Your fault.”

  The enforcer didn’t say a word during her sister’s crazed rant. Betty panted by the time she was done, her hands on her stomach, her pupils huge.

  “We’ve had another death. Carolyn, mated to Shawn. I was on my way to tell you when I found Magnolia’s mate headed straight here. Colt let him in. He’s been dealt with. He’ll be at the barn for a while.”

  Betty exhaled loudly. “I will go speak to Shawn. Another death you can stick on your head, Enforcer. Shouldn’t you be keeping us safe? Isn’t that your job? Didn’t you take an oath to do so? The great Ryker who Drew could never do without. Even as he languishes on the bed?”

  “Hey.” A shout vibrated through the room, and Mags’s knees threatened to give out. Clay’s strong arms kept her upright. Ryker’s human mate, Saja, charged into the room like a tempest. The burnt scent of her anger permeated the area. Only Bastian and Clayton would miss it, but from the way Bastian’s eyes widened, he picked up on her fury anyway.

  “Back the fuck off, Betty. I get it. You’re hurting. Everyone is terrified for Drew. No one cares more about what’s happening here than Ryker. You don’t know—” Her mate stopped Saja’s forward charge with a hand on her arm. For one moment, she glanced at him, and the anger suffusing her face softened a fraction. What the hell did she see in his implacable mask? “Fine.” The word she directed at him, before she glanced at Betty. “You want to have a pissing contest, you take it up with me. Drew was alive to come back to you because of Ryker. He doesn’t care how you rage at him. He’ll take your hate. He’ll take your venom. He’ll never say a word to defend himself. I will not allow you to attack my mate.”

  “Come on.” Clay grabbed Mags’s arm. “We’re getting some air.”

  “But….” Her sister needed her. Everyone in the room was so angry. She could help; she could make their tempers cool. She’d find a way. She knew she could. Yet, Clay guided her from the house and, as the cool, rainy breeze hit her, Mags took a deep breath. “They need me.”