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

As the Harley’s headlight flashed across the front of the Colonial, all the windows were dark. Then again, it was quarter of six in the morning. And before they could fully come to a stop, Lydia jumped off the seat and strode to the front door. Grabbing on to the lion’s head knocker, she worked that brass to the beat of an AC/DC song—and the effort paid off. Moments later, Eastwind answered, a navy-blue flannel bathrobe pulled around his trim body, his feet in slippers, his long hair still braided as if it might never be allowed to go loose.

Lydia was talking fast, and Eastwind was trying to slow her down, when Daniel decided to bring visual aids to the party—because it was going to make things so much more comprehensible.

Tragically, multi-pipe bombs spoke for themselves in all kinds of situations.

As he stepped forward with the duffel, Eastwind looked over, but not for long, like Daniel was a side issue.

“—bag. Daniel has it—” Lydia glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, good. Will you show him what’s inside.”

Daniel did the reveal, tilting the thing forward so that the lantern light overhead shined inside.

“Rick’s going home.” Lydia crossed her arms over her chest like being anywhere near the homemade explosive made her uncomfortable. “We need to go talk to him.”

“I’ll get dressed and go over there.” Eastwind put his hand out. “And I’ll accept that duffel bag, thank you.”

“Happy to turn it over to anybody,” Daniel said as he passed the shit to the sheriff.

“We’re going there, too.” Lydia put her hand up. “And stop. I’ve worked with Rick for two years. He’s a friend and he’s … confused. Upset. He’s not making sense.”

“How did you both know he was on the hotel property?”

Eastwind kept the question casual, but Daniel wasn’t fooled. The man had eyes like the lenses of a camera, and they recorded everything.

“We went for an early morning hike.” Lydia shrugged. “When we came up to Corrington’s chain-link fence, we didn’t want to trespass, so we just went along the outside of it. We found Rick using bolt cutters to get in. They’re in the duffel.”

“And he just told you he was going home?” the sheriff demanded. “Why didn’t you stay with him and call me?”

“He looked beat down. Exhausted—and he knew I was getting in touch with you. He said …”

“He said what.”

“That I always do the right thing. Look, he was aware that we had to turn him in. And we got the bomb—”

“How do you know he didn’t have more of them in his car? At his house?”

Lydia opened her mouth. Closed it. Then she shook her head. “He’s not a danger to anybody else. And I’m going to go there now and make sure he’s all right. He’s—”

“He’s in love with her,” Daniel cut in. “And he thought instead of a dozen roses, he’d blow up the hotel. That’s why she wants to go over there. She feels partially responsible, and from your point of view, I’d want her around. She’ll get through to him like no one else can. I saw it myself.”

“He knows what he was going to do was wrong.” Lydia looked down. “But that’s no defense.”

“No,” Eastwind said. “It’s not. And you don’t go over there without me. I’ll be five minutes to get dressed.”

As the sheriff went back into his house, Daniel returned to his bike. Threw a leg over. Waited with a grip on the handlebars.

When he felt Lydia get on behind him, he jump-started the engine. “We’re not waiting for him, are we.”

“No,” Lydia said. “We aren’t.”





RICK’S PLACE WAS not far from the center of town, and as Lydia told Daniel where to go, she thought of all the little moments she’d shared with the WSP’s vet: Laughs in the break room with Candy. Tracking the wolf packs through the preserve on camera and out on the mountain. Tagging and releasing the wolves.

Rick had been every bit as committed to their mission as she was, and he’d always seemed to have his head on straight—although now, as she thought about it, he had been tense and more irritable lately. She’d assumed it was because of the financial struggles of the WSP and the way he was being forced to economize on his supplies.

There clearly had been something else going on, and God, she prayed it wasn’t only what he felt for her. If it was, then Daniel was right. She did feel responsible, even though she had never encouraged him, never led him on.

With a sad curse to herself, she remembered him coming through the forest just the other morning, as she had laid by the poisoned male, so disapproving, so competent.

She had never expected them to end up here.

Wherever “here” was.

Although surely, he was going to be arrested.

Rick’s cottage, which he owned, not rented, was set back from the road, in a field that bloomed with wild-flowers during the spring and summer. There was no garage and his Jeep was parked by the side of the little house. When Daniel pulled up behind that vehicle, Lydia got off, but didn’t go right for the door.

Which was open, even though it was cold.

As dread clawed up her spine, Lydia searched the windows with her eyes. All the drapes were pulled—which hadn’t been the case ever before. When she’d given him a ride home or had to drop something off, she’d always been able to see inside the place. But maybe it was just because the winter had been so cold and he was trying to lower his heating bills.