N. Walters: Howl of the Wolf

Warning: This book contains heartbreak and love found, a crazy scientist and his werewolf flunky and a tortured werewolf hero. Plus lots and lots of steamy hot sex!

Enjoy the following excerpt for Quinn’s Quest:

The phone rang twice before it occurred to Bethany that the middle of the night might not be the best time to call anyone asking for help, especially not with the crazy story she had to tell. “Damn.” She thought about hanging up but she was committed now. She tightened her hand around the receiver.

“Yeah.” The voice was male and hoarse with sleep.

She cleared her throat. “Is this Quinn Lawton?” She prayed she’d remembered the number right. She didn’t know what she’d do next if this wasn’t Chrissten’s brother.

There was some rustling in the background and the voice was more alert this time. “No.” Bethany’s heart sunk. Maybe she’d dialed the number wrong. Before she could apologize and hang up, the man was speaking again. “Just give me a second and I’ll get him.”

Hope surged inside her. She hadn’t failed. The phone number was the right one. Her knees threatened to buckle so she sank into the chair that Margaret had vacated. Her stomach felt queasy and she was still very weak. She could still hang up the phone and let the police handle this. All she’d have to do is tell them she was kidnapped. No need to tell them about the rest of it. Quinn Lawton would never be able to find her. There was no way to trace the call back to the shelter.

She clutched the receiver in her hand and took a deep breath, knowing she could never do that. She was committed now. No turning back. Footsteps sounded through the receiver and she knew the man who’d answered was taking the phone to Chrissten’s brother, who was a half-breed werewolf just like Chrissten. Just like she was.

Bethany still couldn’t quite wrap her head around that one, but she was trying to understand it. She hoped Quinn had answers for her.

“Yeah.” The voice was low and gruff and masculine. Every cell in Bethany’s body reacted to the sound. The fine hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her nipples contracted. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Who is this?” The voice was more demanding now, all trace of sleepiness gone.

Bethany forced herself to speak. “Is this Quinn Lawton?”

“Who wants to know?” She almost hung up on him. His impatience and arrogance bled through the phone line. But she’d promised her friend.

“Do you have a sister named Chrissten?”

“Where is she? Who are you? Where are you?”

Bethany was so startled by the angry outburst she dropped the receiver. She could hear Quinn yelling at her through the line. She grabbed the phone and hung up, panting hard for breath. He was one scary man.

She sat there for about thirty seconds before she grabbed the phone and punched in the number again.

“Hello. Are you there?” he demanded.

“I’m here.” This was for Chrissten, she reminded herself. And for yourself , a little voice in the back of her head said. You want to know more about who you are. What you are .

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you.” His low tones made her shiver and she wasn’t sure she believed him. Even his apology was short. A voice in the background was urging him to stay calm. She recognized it as the man who’d originally answered the phone. She was beginning to wish she’d talked to him instead.

“Umm, I need to talk to you about your sister.” She had to do this face-to-face. This wasn’t something you talked about over the phone. “Where are you?”

“I’m in Chicago. Where are you?”

Bethany was shocked to find out that help was close at hand. She hadn’t expected that, but would take it as a good sign that maybe her luck was changing. “Where in Chicago? I want to meet you.”

“Tell me about my sister.” His frustration was palpable and she almost blurted out everything she knew. But she had to meet him in person. She’d promised Chrissten she’d get help and that meant more than simply making a phone call. Plus, she was curious about him, about what he was. What she was.

“Where shall I meet you?” Bethany could be just as stubborn as he was.

“There’s a bar in Wicker Park. It’s called Haven. Meet me there.”

“When?” Bethany glanced at the clock over Margaret’s desk. It was half past four in the morning.

“Now. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I don’t have any money to pay for a cab.” It was demoralizing to admit she needed him to pay for her to get there. She couldn’t walk, as she had no idea where she was going. Even if she wanted to take public transit she still had no idea where to find this particular bar.

“Just get here. I’ll take care of the cab fare.”

She sucked in a breath and said, “Okay,” as she exhaled. The quicker she did this the better for her peace of mind.

“What’s your name?” The urgency in his tone brought home just how desperate he was for news of his sister.

“Bethany. My name is Bethany. As of less than a day ago your sister was alive. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”