Cold Mercy (Northern Wolves) Read Online Free PDF Page A

give out underneath him, but she’d managed to get him up to his back door and had used her hip to bump it open. Together they stumbled inside.
    Bay jerked away and sprinted for the bathroom.
    How could it have been a dream? She was real.
    Raw panic clawed its way through him and he tripped, slamming into the cool tile floor. Bile curled at the back of his throat, a familiar, bitter burn, and he felt his stomach twist. Then hands slid under his shoulders and he struggled to help her. Together, she managed to help him get to the toilet, just as he retched up his breakfast.
    Bay sagged against the toilet, nothing left in his stomach, and squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. This had to be another dream. If he could just get the strength to pinch himself, he’d know it for sure. Something cool and wet touched his forehead and Bay opened his eyes to see those pale, icy blue eyes staring into his. He’d never seen human irises so blue before.
    And she was real.
    “You okay?”
    She was squatting in front of him, one hand holding the wet washcloth to his forehead, the other braced against the sink. Her eyebrows had pulled down into a delicate little frown. Bay forced himself to nod.
    “Yeah. I just must have eaten something bad.”
    “Need help up?” She tilted her head towards the door and he could see his bedroom behind her. Curling his hands into fists, he shook his head, but when he struggled to get his feet under him and nearly face-planted, she caught him.
    “Yeah. Thanks.”
    “Never saw someone actually turn as white as a ghost before.” The words held a touch of humor and Bay couldn’t help but smile. Nothing like driving up to hire someone for work, and having to help them as they puked their guts out. Damn woman had nerves of steel, though. If she felt at all ill herself, she hadn’t so much as flinched.
    She helped him over to his bed and Bay sank down onto the mattress, propped up on his elbows so he didn’t completely collapse in her presence. The last thing he wanted was to fall asleep. Not if this was all really true. Oh shit. Bay felt his stomach roll again and then the washcloth was back against his forehead.
    “Easy there, big guy.”
    “I’m amazed you haven’t lost your breakfast.” He meant for the words to be light, playful, but instead, he just sounded plain exhausted.
    “I’ve got a tough stomach. When you feed nine dogs raw meat, you develop a strong constitution.” She shot him a little half smile. “Though I will admit, this wasn’t exactly the kind of service I had in mind.”
    A cold, wet nose touched his arm and Bay turned to see Rascal plopped half on the bed, half off, unable to climb the rest of the way up. The pup whimpered a bit and Bay reached out to stroke him behind the ear. The woman watched the pair of them.
    “Been worried sick about this boy. Was beginning to think he’d gotten eaten by a wol—bear.”
    He heard the sudden way she’d changed words. Eaten by a wolf . That was what she’d been about to say. Bay forced himself to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. His stomach gave a violent rumble, but he didn’t have anything left to throw up. “He get loose?”
    The question came out gravelly.
    “Yeah. Took him out for a run with the rest of the gang and we got attacked by a...” she paused, shoving a hand through her hair, stopping herself once again. “Hell, I don’t even know what attacked us. Seeing things in the snow I guess.”
    She lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “All of my dogs got loose though. Smuggler’s the only one I hadn’t managed to find.”
    Rascal scrabbled at the edge of the bed until he’d clawed his way up beside Bay, only to curl up next to his hip. The little pup gave a contented sigh. One that made Bay’s heart squeeze. This guy had an owner after all, one who probably wanted him back. Bay ran his fingers through the thick double coat, felt Rascal—no, Smuggler —lean into the touch.
    She tilted her head