Kerrelyn Sparks: Wild About You

LET ME KNOW IF ANY STRANGERS COME TO TOWN, ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT ME OR MY COUSINS. DON’T LET ANYONE KNOW YOU’RE INVOLVED WITH ME. IT WILL MAKE YOU A TARGET.

What? She read the message again. A target for what? A target like Harry? She gulped and dropped her phone into her handbag.

“Are you all right?” Ula sat across the table, finishing a piece of apple pie. “You look a little pale.”

“I just hope she isn’t pregnant,” Greta muttered.

Elsa stiffened. She certainly wasn’t pale now. Her cheeks burned as she wondered about the possibility. She was on the pill, but she’d gone to the cabin without them, so she’d missed a day.

Baby were-bears? Her hand pressed instinctively on her stomach.

“Well, hello there.” A man stopped by their table and smiled at Greta. “We meet again.”

“Mr. Pelton.” Greta smiled at him, then leaned close to Elsa. “This is the reporter I told you about. From Alaska.”

“And you must be Miss Bjornberg, the niece Greta was telling me about.” Mr. Pelton gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of sad news, but I’m afraid Howard Barr is a dangerous person to associate with.”

“We’ve been telling her that,” Greta said.

Elsa winced. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“I see.” The reporter removed a pen and pad of paper from his briefcase. “Then perhaps you can tell me where I can reach him? I’d like to interview him and get his side of the story. That seems only fair, don’t you think?”

Howard’s text ran through Elsa’s mind. “I don’t know where he lives.”

“What?” Greta gave her an incredulous look.

Elsa lifted her chin. “We meet at my place of work.”

The reporter checked his notes. “And that would be the gatehouse down the road that’s being renovated?”

Elsa’s heart raced. What was this reporter up to?

“Yes, that’s it,” Greta answered.

Elsa nudged her aunt with her foot.

Greta leaned close and whispered, “He’s trying to help you.”

With a frown, Mr. Pelton dropped his pad of paper into his portfolio and removed a few pages of paper. “I can see you need further convincing.” He set the papers on the table. “This one is a copy of yesterday’s paper, and this one is from this morning’s paper.”

Elsa saw the big headline “Madman Attacks Bleddyn” and the photo of Howard seizing a man by the tie. The man had to be Rhett Bleddyn, the nasty werewolf who hated Howard. She studied the photo. Rhett had shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes. His mouth was twisted into a smirk. The article made it look like he was innocent and Howard was a crazed criminal.

The second paper said that Rhett had gone missing and authorities suspected Howard. She recalled his words in the cabin. I’m going to destroy Rhett.

“So you still can’t tell me where Howard Barr is?” the reporter asked.

Elsa swallowed hard. “No.”

Her aunts shook their heads at her.

Mr. Pelton scowled at her. “A detective from the Anchorage Police Department is arriving tomorrow morning to investigate Mr. Barr. I suggest you cooperate with him.”

A chill ran down Elsa’s back.

“Oh, she will,” Greta assured the reporter.

“Here’s my card if you change your mind.” Mr. Pelton passed a business card to Elsa.

When she took it, her hand brushed against his. An instant burst of heat exploded from her birthmark. With a gasp, she dropped the card on the table.

The reporter narrowed his eyes.

With a forced smile, she grabbed the card. “Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have eaten the chili cheese fries.”

He nodded. “Good evening.” He strode toward the exit.

A berserker . Elsa watched him leave. She’d bet anything he wasn’t a bear like Howard and his cousins. No, Mr. Pelton was probably a werewolf. Like Rhett Bleddyn.

She glanced down at Rhett’s photo in the paper. The article had clearly been biased in his favor. Was the paper owned by werewolves? Was Mr. Pelton working for Rhett Bleddyn?

She waited until she was alone in her hotel room before she texted Howard.

A REPORTER FROM ALASKA, MR. PELTON, IS LOOKING FOR YOU. AND A POLICE DETECTIVE FROM ANCHORAGE WILL ARRIVE TOMORROW MORNING. MR. PELTON IS A BERSERKER.

A text came back from Howard.

STAY AWAY FROM THEM. THEY PROBABLY WORK FOR RHETT.

She showered and sat up in bed, reading the articles once again. Apparently, the photo was taken at Harry’s memorial service. And since Rhett was the one who had killed Harry, she couldn’t blame Howard for attacking him. The article also mentioned how Howard had been arrested for killing a girl twenty years earlier.

She tossed the paper onto the bedside table. What was the truth behind that? She really wanted to know, but how could she text Howard and ask him if he’d killed his high school sweetheart? As hard as she tried, she couldn’t come up with a nice way to ask him about it.

The next time she saw him, she’d show him the papers. Then he could explain.

With that settled in her mind, she turned off the bedside light. Aunt Ula was already asleep in the second bed. Aunt Greta had the room next door. She was probably polishing her guns.

Elsa snuggled under the covers and rubbed her birthmark. She would need to shake hands with the detective from Anchorage. If her suspicions were correct, he would make her mark burn.

She tossed and turned most of the night, not fully falling asleep until the wee hours of the morning.

Abeautiful man came to her in the night. Large and powerful, he covered her body with his. His big hands roamed over her skin, setting her on fire. She wanted him. She cried out for him. She burned for him.

His hands were magic. Skimming the length of her legs. Fondling her breasts. Stroking her neck. Tightening their grip.

Choking her.

She thrashed against him, but he was too strong. Too powerful.

His face, half hidden in shadow, twisted in rage. Transformed. He roared like an animal.

She gazed up at him in horror. In the flicker of firelight, she caught a glimpse of his head.

A bear.

She slapped at him. Clawed at his face. No, not her lover!

Words slipped from her mouth, then echoed in her mind.

“I curse you and your kind for all time!”

She shoved at his shoulders, and his fur came loose in her hands. The bearskin fell off him, revealing her attacker in the firelight. Not her lover.

The berserker who hated her lover.

The wolf.

Elsa sat up with a gasp.

“Are you all right?” Ula turned on the light.

“It wasn’t a bear who killed the guardian!” Elsa jumped out of bed. “It was a wolf!”

“A wolf?”

“Yes.” Elsa paced about the room. “I think it’s always been wolves. The guardian was in love with a bear berserker, and the wolves hated him for it. They killed her, making her think her lover had done it so she would curse the bears for all time.”

“Then you think your Howard is innocent?” Ula asked.

“Yes! I think Mr. Pelton is a wolf berserker. He made my birthmark burn.”

Ula stood up. “We must tell Greta.” She rushed to the bathroom and got dressed while Elsa texted Howard.

YOU’RE IN DANGER! THE WOLVES ARE COMING FOR YOU.

When Ula left the bathroom, Elsa dashed inside. Five minutes later, they were dressed and ready to go. She rushed outside with Ula and banged on Greta’s door.

Greta cracked it open. “It’s awfully early. You should go away.”

“I know who killed the original guardian,” Elsa told her. “It wasn’t a bear. It was a wolf!”