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

“I refilled the tank before I came back.” She took a deep breath. “You were right, a drive really helps clear the mind.”

“I do my best thinking on my bike with an empty road ahead of me.”

There was a pause. And then she said in a far-off way, “How do you know when to leave? A place, I mean. A job.”

Daniel shrugged. “I don’t know. For me, it’s kind of an internal clock—or maybe it’s more like one of those oven stuffer roasters with the pop-up buttons? Something inside just shifts and I’m done.”

As she looked around, her eyes lingered on Candy’s desk and then went to the hall that led back to the offices and the clinic entrance.

“Can you help me free the wolf tomorrow?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

“Thanks.” She seemed to refocus herself as she brushed her hair back. “I’m just going to go feed him now. You’re free to head home. Or … off, I mean, wherever you’re going, if you’re …”

“I’ll be in my tent again tonight on your back forty.”

When she just nodded absently, he wasn’t sure she’d even heard. But then she said, “Have you ever had suomen makaronilaatikko?”

“No? I’m pretty healthy, though. Little cough now and then, but nothing more than that.”

Lydia blinked and then laughed softly. “It’s Finnish macaroni and cheese. I have some frozen back home and I was wondering if you’d—”

“Oh, right. Actually, I love solemn macaroni. It’s right up my alley, a serious dish for a man who has no sense of humor.”

Her smile lasted a little longer and he was glad.

“Okay, well,” she nodded over her shoulder, “I’m happy to walk home, if you’d like to go—”

“I’m waiting for you right here. You take your time with your wolf.”

Just in case there was an argument, he went over and parked it on the waiting room’s sofa, crossing his legs ankle-to-knee. Fortunately, Lydia didn’t fight him; she just murmured an I’ll-be-quick and strode off.

Daniel rubbed his face and then let his head fall back. The sun was setting, the light fading from the sky, everything starting to go dark. Funny, how some days were long.

And some seemed like a lifetime.

Just as his neck was getting sore, he heard a car pull up to the building. As he straightened and looked out the window, he put his hand into his windbreaker, onto the butt of his gun. It was a UPS truck, boxy and brown with the right logo in the right place in the correct color. A man in a coordinated short-sleeved uniform got out with a box the size of a toaster oven.

Looked legit. But Daniel didn’t trust anything.

He kept his hand on his gun as he got up and went to the door. Opening it, he smiled casually. “That need a signature?”

“Yup,” the guy said. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks.” Daniel scribbled on the electronic reader with his left hand. “Hopefully this is your last stop.”

“Two more and I’m off. You have a good night.”

“You, too, man.”

Stepping back inside, Daniel locked things up and went to the window. The truck did a wide turn and nearly clipped the Harley, but then it was off, moving away down the gravel road.

“Who was that?” Lydia said as she poked her head out of the clinic’s door. “I just saw someone’s taillights.”

“UPS.” He held up the box. “And it’s addressed to Peter Wynne.”





LYDIA HELD ON to the package all the way back to her house. She kept it between Daniel’s body and her own on the bike, one of her arms around his waist, the other keeping the box tight as a football in a receiver’s grip.

She forgot to tell him to go the long way to the back of her property, just to make sure no one saw them. But really, after everything that had happened? Who the fuck cared. If Susan and Bessie wanted to carry the news he’d given her a ride home to everyone who ate at the diner or bought a carton of milk and a newspaper, so be it.

Besides, all anyone would be talking about was Rick.

God, how could he be gone? As the question ricocheted around her mind for the hundredth time, Daniel pulled into her drive and went up to her house—

Had she left that light on?

“What is it?” he said as he cut the engine and she didn’t get off.

“I can’t remember whether I …”

“Your bedroom light was on when we left.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup, but let me go through the house first.”

“I’m not staying out here.” She dismounted and got her keys from her pocket. “I feel like a sitting duck everywhere I go right now.”

“Let me put the bike around back.”

She nodded and walked with him as he rolled the Harley out of view from the driveway. Then they entered into her kitchen. As he closed them in, she looked around.

“Everything seems distorted,” she said. “Like my whole world has been shifted a quarter of an inch to the left.”

“So something’s out of place?”

“No.” But she double-checked just to be sure. “It only feels like it.”

As he spoke to her, she knew he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were sweeping over the windows, the door into the cellar, the rooms beyond—which were dark.