Cynthia Cooke - Running with Wolves

“Do you hear it, too?”

With a whoosh, Shay's chest filled with air. She gasped in, quick shallow painful breaths. Jason's aura was strong, bright. Chasing away the darkness in her eyes as she hung on to him.

“I'm afraid something … in the walls is making me sick,” she confessed.

“It's going to be all right. I'll take care of you,” he said, and before she could respond or even contemplate his words, Shay was up in his arms, cradled against the too-good-to-be-true stranger's warm chest. She didn't know if the whispering had stopped or if she was so consumed by his body heat and by his heady, earthy scent that she no longer heard the disturbing whispers. She breathed Jason's scent deep, holding it within her, as if it alone could protect her from the darkness …

Many years ago, CYNTHIA COOKElived a quiet, idyllic life caring for her beautiful eighteen-month-old daughter. Then peace gave way to chaos with the birth of her boy/girl twins. She kept her sanity by reading romance novels and dreaming of someday writing one. With the help of Romance Writers of America and wonderfully supportive friends, she fulfilled her dreams. Now, many moons later, Cynthia is an award-winning author who has published books with Mills & Boon and Steeple Hill Books.

Running with Wolves

Cynthia Cooke

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my good friend

and critique partner, Kelly Keaton!

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter 1

Shay Mallory felt the sensation of being watched as she walked down her long driveway, her tennis shoes crunching on the sparse gravel. Late morning fog hovered in the branches of the tall redwoods forming a canopy above her. She breathed deep the briny scent of ocean air and willed herself to relax. Not an easy task.

A twig snapped behind her. Tensing, she peered over her shoulder at the deep shadows lengthened by the soaring trees, but saw no one. She was being jumpy. There was no one there. Nothing to be afraid of, and yet she was. Fear clung to her back, digging its long sharp claws into her shoulders, a constant reminder of its needling presence.

She’d spent her whole life jumping at imaginary threats, constantly moving until one town blurred into the next. But her paranoid father had been dead a long time now. For years, there had been just her and Grams in these woods, and no reason to be afraid. No reason to jump.

A whimpering sounded behind her. Smiling, she stopped and turned.

“Hey, Buddy.” She squatted next to the large husky that had been shadowing her and rubbed the thick brown fur on his cheeks. He looked more like a wolf than a dog and had been her only companion since Grams died last year. If it weren’t for him, she’d be completely alone. She brushed off the thought and the sense of deep sadness that came with it. Until she figured out what was going on with her, spending less time around people would be better anyway.

Buddy sat and she patted his head. “You can’t come with me, Buddy. You know that. You scare people.”

The dog whined and, lying down, dropped its head onto its outstretched paws, looking absolutely adorable. “I know. They’re idiots. Stay here. I’ll be right back. Promise.” She stood and, with a lighter step and a pat to her pocket to make sure she had her iPod, she hurried down the road.

She knew she should move closer to the city and try to find a job in a design firm. Home-based graphic design businesses could be tough to get off the ground since it seemed as if everyone and their brother could design a website these days. But there weren’t too many places she would be able to live with Buddy. He needed room to run, to stretch his legs, to be free where some gun-happy yahoo wouldn’t mistake him for a wolf and shoot him. She’d find a way to make the money to fix up the old house and stay right where she was.

In her home.

As Shay considered her options, she crossed Highway 1, and headed toward picturesque Main Street. Thank goodness, with the onset of school and the cooler weather, most of the summer tourists were gone and she encountered no one on her way. She passed through an alley between two buildings and walked into the hardware store.

“Good morning, Shay,” Mr. Henderson said from behind the counter. “You know, it’s not sunny out.”

Shay smiled and took off the dark shades she never went without these days. She couldn’t take the chance. Without them she’d be distracted and sometimes scared by the colors, but Mr. Henderson was okay. She already knew what his colors were, yellow and blue and happy.

She took a deep breath and looked around her. Luckily no one else was in the store. “I need another tube of Spackle.”

“More? What are you doing up there?” Astonishment raised his voice, and his grayish-green eyes bulged a little under salt-and-pepper brows.

“Grams’s place must be on a fault line. Cracks keep forming in the walls, especially on the east side of the house.”

He crinkled his already heavily lined forehead, creating fissures as deep as the ones in her walls. “You might want to get someone out there to look at the foundation.”

“I will,” she said to appease him. And she would as soon as she got the money, which wouldn’t be anytime soon. “Thanks, Mr. Henderson.” She took the Spackle and headed toward the door.

“Let me know if you need any help out there, okay?” Concern softened his voice.

She smiled, and wished not for the first time that Grams could have seen how much he’d cared for her, that they could have spent her last few years together. No one should live their life alone like Grams had.

Shay waved, slid the glasses back on and placed her iPod’s earbuds in her ears as she left the shop and hurried down the street to Annie’s Fresh Farm Grocery Store. Like so many stores in the village, the white clapboard two-story was adorned with flowers and antiques that made the building look charming instead of old and run-down. Annie’s was a little overpriced, but it was better than driving to the large chain store down the highway. Besides, how much did one girl and her dog need?

Shay picked up a dozen fresh organic brown eggs and placed them in her basket, then perused the spinach and tomatoes before adding them to the eggs. As she picked up an avocado and gave it a gentle squeeze, the small hairs on her nape prickled—the telltale sensation that someone was watching her again.

Without making it obvious, she glanced around her, holding her breath and hoping she was wrong. For the past couple of weeks, she’d barely been able to leave the house without running into some kind of problem. Not just the uncomfortable sensation of someone’s attention, which usually meant trouble, but suddenly people glowed. Everyone was surrounded by colors, some bright, some dull, some black. Black was the color she was afraid of the most. But the worst part was the noise. People’s brains hummed and if a person was excited enough, their thoughts would burst right through the hum.

Shay really didn’t want to know what people were thinking.

Mostly she heard a low buzz, all the time, everywhere she went. When it first started, she’d thought she’d go mad, but she’d learned to block it out. To never leave the house without her sunglasses and an iPod. It had been three weeks since the weird buzz and lights had started. Three weeks, and still they hadn’t gone away. No one was paying much attention to her. No reason to warrant the nape prickling.