Heart of the Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page A

grave.
    Beginning at the elaborate monument, Ren retraced Kathryn’s exact steps for the third time that day, pausing at the moment of the first shot and factoring in her height, which was several inches shorter than his own six foot four. He remembered she’d been wearing high heels and added a few inches, recalculated the bullets’ trajectory, walked a few steps, and dropped to the ground, heedless of the snow-wet grass.
    It took longer than he expected. And when he finally located the first crumpled bullet, it had more to do with his body’s unique sensitivities than to any precision on the part of his mathematical skills. He dug down into the grass several inches and found what looked like a .338 slug, badly distorted by distance and collision with the hard ground. The second was easier to find now that he knew what to look for.
    Standing up, he raised one of the slugs to the thin light, turning it in his thick fingers. He felt the first trickle of real fear for Kathryn’s safety. Winking back at him from beneath the covering of dirt and grass, making his fingers itch, was the dull sheen of silver. Someone hadn’t only taken a shot at Kathryn Avinger. They’d known enough about her and what she was to use silver bullets to do it.

Chapter Five

    “This is not something the human police can handle, Kathryn, and you know it.”
    He was back at her penthouse, back in that damn study that stank so strongly of Preston Avinger, Ren had to wonder if Kathryn had ever been in the room before today. And this was where she’d chosen to meet him. Had it been calculated on her part? Did she understand what it cost him to stand there and pretend to be human with the scent of her ex-husband all around him? Or had she become so separated from her wolf that she couldn’t even smell it anymore?
    “Are you listening to me, Ren?” she responded testily. “I know you’re used to marching in and bossing everyone around, but this—”
    “You don’t know anything anymore,” he snarled, his patience finally snapping. He closed the distance between them with a hard stride, drawing a small pouch out of his pocket and shoving it at her.
    Kathryn jerked back, staring at the black silk bag, distorted as it was by the lump of silver slug inside.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “Hold out your hand.”
    “Why?”
    Ren met her gaze evenly. “Don’t you trust me, Kathryn?”
    Kathryn stared at him and he could see the war in her eyes. She wanted to trust him. He believed that. So he made it easy for her, raising one eyebrow in a blatant challenge. Her lips tightened, and she stuck out her hand.
    He emptied the bag, letting the silver slug fall into her cupped palm. She juggled it for a moment and he could see the fine rash popping up on her skin before she dropped the metal to the desk, letting it roll away in a lopsided sort of wiggle, before she turned to glare at him.
    “That’s silver,” she said accusingly.
    “That,” Ren clarified, “is what’s left of a silver bullet. One of two silver bullets that nearly took your life at the funeral.” He picked up the bit of crumpled silver and dropped it back into the pouch.
    Kathryn stumbled away, the backs of her knees hitting the hard edge of the big chair as she fell into it.
    “Silver bullets?” she whispered.
    Ren tucked the bullet in its silk covering back into his pocket, hearing the fear in Kathryn’s voice with satisfaction. Finally, she was taking this seriously. He glanced over at her where she sat in the high-backed executive chair, her slender form dwarfed by its size. Her eyes were huge, their gray gone nearly white, her face pale with shock. Her hands looked impossibly delicate against the blocky arms of the chair, her fingers dancing with a fine tremble before she clenched them against the wood to stop it.
    He felt a pang of remorse for frightening her like this but steeled himself against it. Whatever feelings he still had for her, she clearly had none left for