Claimed (The Lair of the Wolven #1) by J.R. Ward

“Hi,” she said as she crouched down. “It’s me again.”



Daniel Joseph was used to being a ghost. He was good at it. He had to be. It was a question of both purpose and survival.

So as he tracked Lydia Susi’s progression through the Wolf Study Project’s facility, he made no sound. He also triggered no security lights, although there was a totally non-metaphysical reason for that: He’d unscrewed them the night before when he’d come down off the mountain and checked the place out.

And as a bonus, there were no security cameras on-site, which had been good news.

He was only going to be seen by that woman, or anyone else, on his terms and when he wanted to be. And not at all if he chose.

For example, ordinarily, he would not eat out in public. But when it was necessary, appearances had to be created and then maintained. So he had had food among the townsfolk to establish the impression that he was just like the rest of them. Nothing special. Nothing to be noted.

Blending in.

As he moved down the side of the building, the darkness of the night was his shield, his body’s ability to be utterly silent while in motion making him a whisper in the shadows, just like the cold air, just like the mountain mist … just like the moonlight that had emerged from the clouds to seek the earth from its perch high, high in the heavens.

He had watched the woman through the slats that covered her window as she worked at her desk, typing into her keyboard, staring at images of a wolf attack on her screen. She had been clearly upset by the carnage, and then she had done some work, flipping through screens, using her mouse, moving things around. After that, she’d left her office and returned with a large tin container that she put under her desk. Finally, she had up and left, turning off the lights.

Her path through the single-story building was marked with darkened rooms or hallways that abruptly filled with light, and he imagined her flipping switches that she didn’t need to pat around to find. She was heading for the back, and as he came up to a high-set slot window, he hefted himself off the ground on the sill and peered in.

She was going into a room on the opposite side of the building, and the door closed automatically behind her.

Waiting in the night was something that came naturally to him, and as he dropped back down, his body settled into a stable stance that varied only as his chest rose and fell evenly.

If she were in there for half an hour, an hour, the rest of the night? Didn’t matter to him—

He saw the headlights first. A pair coming down the lane toward the building.

Turning to face the dark siding of the building, he put his back to the arrival and linked his hands together. The car’s beams traveled over his black leather jacket and his black hat and his dark blue jeans—and kept right on going, the vehicle stopping next to the rear entrance.

Which was only about ten feet from where Daniel was.

As a man got out and shut his door with his hip, Daniel cranked his head to the side for a better look. The car was an older Jeep, one that he’d seen parked with the others during the day. The guy who had driven it had glasses that were unremarkable, clothes that were unremarkable, an unremarkable haircut.

Abruptly, the man stared down the side of the building, but not because he had noticed who was watching him. He focused on the woman’s old car.

When he pivoted back, there was an air of poignant sadness about him, his shoulders slumped in defeat, his eyes going to ground and staying there. It was a while before he moved toward the door, as if he had to brace himself to see the woman inside—

The rear exit to the building burst open.

“Oh, it’s you,” a female voice said. “Are you coming to check on him?”

From his close perch, Daniel witnessed a mask come across the man’s face, everything tightening up, composure substituting for true detachment.

“Tell me you didn’t try to take his vitals,” was the annoyed response.

“Of course I did. Right after I performed brain surgery on him.”

As the woman stepped forward, the light streaming out of the building caught half her face, half her body—and all of Daniel’s attention. She was both average and unusually attractive, a troubling combination: With her sun-streaked hair pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue running tights and red and black shoes, she looked as if she could be any woman in her late twenties who kept herself in a good shape, but wasn’t fussy about coordinating her outfits.

There was something about her, though, something intangible and really fucking annoying, that made Daniel look twice. Every time he saw her.

The vet crossed his arms and frowned. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to come back for something in my office—”

“So you’ve moved your desk into my clinic? Christ, Lydia, I told you I’d check on him—”

“I didn’t come back for the wolf, k? I’m going through the budget for next quarter and forgot a report Candy had prepared for me. While I was here, I thought I’d make sure he was all right—and call you if he wasn’t. That’s it.”

There was a pause. “I just wish you’d trust me.”

No, Daniel thought. You just wish she loved you.

On her side, the woman seemed not only to not reciprocate, but be unaware of his feelings.

“Come on, Rick. You know me. If I’m under this roof, like I’m not going to peek in on him?”