Treeland Pack Tales 3: A Trace of Ivy Read Online Free PDF Page B

look. I can walk.” She held herself
stiffly, trying to touch him as little as possible and praying her knees would
hold if he set her down.
    He tightened his grip on her. Not enough to hurt, but enough
to remind her that she didn’t have a chance of winning a physical contest. “Let
me carry you, please.”
    The “please” made her pause and reconsider. Monsters never
asked. And they never bothered to say please. Did beasts come in degrees of
nasty? Too upset to speak, and with no real choice, she gave him a clipped bob
of consent.
    “You are a brave Beta.”
    The male was crazy. She wasn’t brave, more like a bundle of
cowardly nerves. In spite of her disbelief, some of the fear keeping her on
edge seeped away at his praise.
    He nuzzled her messy hair.
    Is he kissing it? And
why does that thought make me tingly?
    An older gentleman strolled past them and doffed his hat.
“Evening, Chet.”
    Chet dipped his chin as if he carried bedraggled women,
females—whatever the hell she was, through the garage every day. “Evening,
Bob.”
    He pushed the elevator call button with an elbow. “Bob lives
in the basement apartment. He’s allergic to sunlight.”
    “Is he a tracker too?”
    He gave her an odd look, then shook his head. “He doesn’t
have the nose for it.”
    His assessment of his neighbor seemed a bit weird, but then
she had an acute sense of smell herself, so she dismissed his strange judgment.
    “Do you know all the tenants?” Unhappy with herself for
letting the conversation get off-track, she sighed and then drew in more of his
aroma. The fragrance made her want to snuggle into all those sexy muscles. She
fought to keep her priorities straight. Her friends were counting on her to bring
help.
    “I do. I own the building. It’s quite secure. You have
nothing to worry about.”
    “It seems well constructed,” she said in a lame attempt at
courtesy, still trying to wrap her head around a world where her nightmares
were real, and this amazing male turned into a beast and fought the other
monsters.
    “If you like the parking area, then you’ll love my place.”
Chet gave her a crooked grin that made him look younger but no less lethal.
    The elevator arrived, and he stepped inside. Metal doors
whooshed closed, leaving her alone with one of the beasts. Locked in the small
space, aware that she wore nothing but wool wrappings that didn’t belong to
her, she felt much too vulnerable. Her body ignored Chet’s enemy status,
warming and melting into his heat. This was wrong on so many levels. Burgeoning
shame and self-loathing caused her stomach to knot. While she’d been busy
chatting with one of the beasts like a simpering fool, Kat, Tess, and the
battered teenager were still being tortured by the monsters. She’d promised to
get them help. A wave of revulsion at her callous behavior finally broke the
drugging spell of the male’s presence.
    “I smell your fear.” He sounded disappointed—sad.
    The scent of fresh snow swirled past her freakishly
sensitive nostrils. Something needy inside her wanted to rub against him and
beg his forgiveness. She clamped her molars to keep an apology from spilling.
    She’d lived as human her whole life, and she wasn’t about to
stop now. What she needed was a good dose of common sense, clothes, and law
enforcement officers—the kind who didn’t growl, or grow fur, enormous fangs,
and claws. The captives had to have been reported missing. The rogues laughed
about the men they’d killed. Surely those disappearances and deaths were under
investigation. She’d figure out how to convince the authorities she wasn’t
certifiable when her mental competency became an issue.
    Neither one of them spoke until the elevator stopped. He
moved into a small foyer and set her down, keeping a light hold on her hip to
steady her. While she stared at an amazing stained-glass skylight, he pressed
numbers on a keypad. The entrance swung open.
    He waved for her to precede him,