N. Walters - Legacy Found

What made him so special?

A vehicle pulled in on the other side of the gas pumps and she automatically glanced over. Every bit of blood drained from her face as she caught sight of the man driving the black SUV. It couldn’t be.

But it was. She’d seen his face too many times to mistake it—handsome, yet cruel at the same time. He’d grown a goatee since she’d last seen him. It gave his face a more sinister look. His blond hair was longer than she remembered, but it still didn’t touch his shoulders.

Shelley turned away and hunched down in her seat. Should she run?

No . That would bring attention her way. Reaching her hand out blindly, she hit the lock on her door.

She leaned across the seat to lock the other door, but before she could, it popped open. She gasped and shrank away.

It was James and, of course, he noticed the way she was practically hiding under the dashboard. “What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and hunched lower, willing the man at the gas pump across from them not to notice her. “Drive.”

James’s asked no questions as he started the truck, but his head swiveled around and she knew he saw the man across from them putting fuel into his SUV. The man who would kill her without a thought. And why wouldn’t he? She’d killed his father.

It had to be coincidence that Steve Macmillan had turned up at the same place as her and James. Or maybe it was fate. A reminder of what she’d done and everything she had to lose.

There was no way he could have tracked her movements. When she’d awoken this morning, she’d had no idea she’d find herself at this particular gas station in Nashville today.

Desperation swept over her. If James didn’t hurry, nothing else would matter. The second Steve saw her she was dead.

But the truck was already moving. James pulled out of the lot and accelerated slowly, gliding easily into traffic. Shelley didn’t breathe, didn’t sit up until he’d driven for five minutes. She peered out the back window to make certain there was no sign of the SUV before slowly sitting up straight again.

Sweat made her new sweater cling to her torso. Her body trembled as adrenaline pumped through her veins. Fight or flight. It was a primitive reaction to danger. And Steve Macmillan was as dangerous as it got.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” James tone was mild, but she knew he was curious. He had to be. She’d just acted slightly crazy and told him to drive. She paused as it occurred to her he’d done just that with no questions asked.

She shook her head. “You’re safer not knowing.”

Steve Macmillan casually scoped out the other vehicles as he pumped gas. Not that he expected to see anyone or anything special, but it was as natural to him as breathing to be aware of his surroundings. His father had taught him to always be on his guard. Those werewolves and other freaks of nature were everywhere.

He noticed the big man who walked out of the small convenience store attached to the gas bar. His movements were fluid with an animal grace that gave Steve pause.

That would be too much of a coincidence to run into a werewolf here. There wasn’t enough time to assess the man as he climbed into his vehicle. There was a passenger in the cab of the truck, but Steve couldn’t get a good look at her. And it was a woman. He caught a glimpse of her profile before she turned away. Her soft brown hair tumbled around her shoulders. Her leather jacket was scrunched up around her neck and ears, blocking most of her features from view.

The back of his neck began to itch and he released the nozzle of the gas hose and took a step to the right to get a better view of the passenger.

It didn’t help. The woman kept her head turned away from him. The driver glanced at Steve, his dark eyes narrowing slightly before he put the truck in gear and pulled away.

Steve watched as the vehicle disappeared down the road, automatically taking note of the license plate. Damn—the woman reminded him of someone. It would come to him in time. He was certain of it. It was probably nothing, but it wouldn’t hurt to check it out.

Tension thrummed through James. He didn’t know what had just happened to frighten Shelley, but something sure as hell had. Maybe it had something to do with the guy at the gas station and maybe it didn’t. All he knew is Shelley wanted to get away from there so he drove.

The farther away they got, the more relaxed she became.

“You want to tell me what that was all about?” He kept his tone mild, sensing that she was close to the edge. Sweat was beaded on her forehead and her hands were shaking.

“You’re safer not knowing.”

Her words cut him like a knife. She was trying to protect him. He wasn’t having it. He was male. He was alpha. It was his job to protect her. “I can take care of myself. It’s you I’m worried about.”

She shook her head and he had the urge to shake her until she told him what had just happened to frighten her. Not that he’d give in to it. There’s no way he’d ever lay a hand on her in anger. He was very afraid she’d had more than her share of that kind of treatment in her life.

“Talk to me, Shelley.”

She licked her lips and seemed to draw herself inward, all her earlier pleasure in her new clothing gone. That made him even angrier. Someone or something had stolen that joy from her.

James sighed, knowing that Shelley wasn’t going to tell him anything. Not now. Not until she felt safe.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as they left Nashville behind them and headed toward North Carolina. There had to be something he could do to get Shelley to open up to him. All he needed was time.

Why it was so important to him that she do so was something he didn’t want to look at too closely, but he forced himself to. A man didn’t reach his age without learning a thing or two about himself and about life. And James knew without a doubt that he couldn’t let Shelley go. Not now. Maybe not ever. She was important.

There had to be something he could do to convince her to stay with him. He pondered everything he’d learned about her in the short time he’d known her. He shook his head in wonder. It was less than a day, could be measured in hours, yet he felt as though he knew her, knew her soul. He damn sure wanted her.

He shoved aside the fantasies of having her naked in his bed, her body undulating under his as he fucked her hard and fast. They were only making him tense and causing his clothing to be uncomfortably tight.

Being around Shelley made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t felt in decades. Not since Leda, his mate, his wife, had died in childbirth all those years ago. The nightmares of those days smothered the sexual fantasies in a hurry. He couldn’t go through that again.

James rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, trying to release some of the tension gripping him. His immediate problem was Shelley wanting to leave.

He ticked off what he knew about her in his brain. She was independent. She didn’t like owing him money. Not that he thought she owed him anything, but obviously she did.

She was also afraid. The way she sometimes cowered before she caught herself doing it was a sign that she’d been abused. That knowledge ate at James’s gut like acid. He’d like to find whoever had hurt her and rip them limb from limb. Females were to be protected. They were the hope, the heart, the future of their people.

He glanced at Shelley, but she was staring out the window, her body pressed as close to the door as she could get it.

He turned his attention back to the road and his problem. In spite of everything she’d been through, Shelley was strong. She was a survivor. She was also a caretaker.