Pack of Trouble Read online

  Pack of

  Trouble

  By D.M. Turner

  Copyright 2015 by D.M. Turner

  Cover designed by the author

  Sunset in the mountains photo by “johnsroad7” of DPC

  Large wolf photo by “nialat” of DPC

  Small wolf photo by “Animalist” of DPC

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or any information retrieval or storage system without the prior written permission of the author.

  BISAC: Fiction/Christian/Fantasy

  Excerpt included is from the short story Alpha: 1990 Becoming, ©2015 by D.M. Turner (also found in Alpha: The Complete Collection).

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Flagstaff, Arizona

  Friday, April 13, 2018

  One more source of disappointment and discouragement loomed ahead. Sophia Ferguson stared at the glass door of the small, independent bookstore. Just go. Pull the door open. Go inside. Get it over with. She’d probably checked every bookstore in the southwestern United States in the past three months. Only to have hope shattered each time. She didn’t have much hope left, and only the realization that she had nothing else kept her moving from town to town, store to store.

  What if she’d targeted the wrong part of the country? She’d headed south on a hunch, not exactly scientific or logical.

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, just do it!” She yanked the door open, causing a bell to chime, and crossed the threshold, drawn up short by the overwhelming scent of sage incense.

  Ugh. Breathe shallow. She forced herself inside, letting the door swing shut behind her. It would be hours before she got that smell out of her nose. Hopefully it proved worthwhile.

  “Good morning.” A chipper voice pulled her gaze to the smiling young woman behind the counter toward the back of the store. “My name is Alix. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you find.”

  “Uh… do you have a section to spotlight local authors?” She held her breath, and not because of the incense.

  “Sure thing.” Alix rounded the counter and waved Sophia to follow her. “Right back here.”

  They stopped in front of a six-foot-tall shelf.

  Sophia took a deep breath, barely resisted the urge to choke on sage, and perused the books neatly lined up side-by-side. Her heart leapt into her throat, and she touched a grouping. They have them. Books by T.S. Campbell. She’d finally found them after looking for weeks. She pulled one that appeared unfamiliar. Alpha. One she hadn’t read yet. Bonus!

  “Did you find what you’re looking for?”

  “Yes.” One little word that masked so much. Joy flitted through her.

  “You’re familiar with this author’s work, I gather.”

  “Very much so, but I don’t have this one.” She hugged the book to her chest. “I’m so glad you carry work by independent authors. Many don’t.”

  “Very true, and that’s a travesty. Some of my favorite authors are indies.”

  “This one is definitely my latest favorite.” Sophia grinned. Alix couldn’t begin to fathom the sincerity of that statement, or why that author’s books touched her so deeply. “Incidentally, what do you consider local for stocking your shelves?” Please, don’t say the State of Arizona.

  “Authors who live in Coconino County.”

  Yes! She nodded calmly, restraining the urge to do a happy dance through the store. The woman would think her unhinged. Forcing a rational, intelligent demeanor, she went to the register. “How can you be so sure the author is from around here? I haven’t seen anything online indicating a place of residence.”

  Alix returned to her station behind the counter and grinned. “I have my ways.” She rang up Sophia’s purchase.

  Did the clerk know the author personally?

  The bell on the front door chimed.

  Sophia glanced over her shoulder out of habit more than interest then stilled.

  The man who filled the doorway did exactly that—fill the doorway. All six-and-a-half-feet of him. Broad, muscular shoulders nearly brushed from one side of the open door to the other. Probably no more than mid-thirties. Wavy, dark blond hair swept out from a widow’s peak in the center of his forehead and was pulled back from a broad, strong face. His short, full beard was tinted red. Gray eyes studied his surroundings with quiet, predatory intensity, though his relaxed, confident body language suggested the scrutiny was habit rather than hunting behavior or the vigilance that expected trouble.

  Wowee. Sophia swallowed hard. It had been a long time since she’d seen such a fine example of the male species. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember when she’d last seen his like. Maybe never.

  That gray gaze swept the room and stopped on the two women at the counter, locking with hers. Calm, distant appraisal was soon replaced by a hint of amusement and the lift of one brow.

  Is he mocking me? She raised her chin and held his gaze.

  A corner of his mouth turned up, and amusement deepened.

  She forced herself to turn back to the counter to pay for her purchase. Her hand shook as she handed over cash. Hopefully Alix hadn’t noticed.

  The young woman smiled at the newcomer. “Good morning, Mr. Campbell. That book you ordered arrived yesterday afternoon. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  Campbell? Sophia glanced at the cover of the book lying on the counter. Was he the author? She resisted the urge to take a deep breath in hopes of catching his scent. Annoying incense.

  “No hurry, Alix. I want to look at a couple of things while I’m here. I may need you to order something else for me.” The rich, bass tones of his voice caressed Sophia’s spine.

  She needed to get away from this man before she did something totally embarrassing. Like faint at his feet from lack of oxygen.

  Good grief. What are you? Fourteen with a crush on the quarterback? You’re an adult, and you’ve run a high-profile kitchen in Seattle. Executive Chefs don’t faint at the sight or sound of a hunky man. Get a grip!

  Then again, that man wasn’t quarterback material. Linebacker, maybe. He’d be like a freight train rushing at a quarterback. And who got all weak in the knees and breathless over linebackers?

  “Come again.” Alix smiled big.

  Sophia nodded, picked up the book from the counter, stuck the receipt inside, and turned to leave. Thankfully, the linebacker had moved to another section of the store, paging through a thick, hardcover book in the history section she’d passed on the way in. She took a deep breath then smothered a cough.

  Stupid mistake. What’s with people and their love of stinky stuff? Gag.

  She walked with steady, measured steps to the front door, pushed it open, and stepped into fresh air. The door swung soundlessly closed, and she quickly returned to her red Suburban.

  Once inside, she took deep breaths in and out through her nose. No help clearing the incense. Digging under the passenger seat, she found a box of Kleenex and blew her nose. Then she took another deep breath. Still nothing but sage. Ugh.

  So, now what? If that Mr. Campbell was the one she’d sought the past three months, driving away wasn’t an option. To do so would be ludicrous. She needed to talk to him, but how could she approach him without sounding like a lunatic? If he was the wrong man, he’d call the police to have her incarcerated for the safety of the community. Okay, probably not, but the possibility of him thinking her a loon wasn’t remote if he wasn’t the man she’d so
ught.

  The front door of the bookstore opened.

  Mr. Campbell emerged with a pair of books in one hand and crossed the small parking lot to a dark green Expedition.

  Sophia hesitated for no more than a breath as he drove out of the parking lot before following him. He’d probably mistake her for a stalker, but she needed to find out if he was the right man. If so, she could explain. If not, hopefully he was a tolerant and understanding sort who would humor the crazy woman.

  * * *

  Ian Campbell glanced in the rearview mirror for the sixth time since leaving the Flagstaff city limits fifteen minutes before. A dark red SUV hung back, keeping a steady distance. Call him paranoid, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was following him. Granted, there weren’t too many turn-offs along that route, but still. A dirt road cut from the highway ahead, still a good ways from the road home. Perfect chance to test the theory. If he was wrong, he could chuckle about it the rest of the way home. No one would be the wiser.

  His turn signal clicked, and he slowed to make the right turn. He followed the dirt road a short distance, rounded a bend, pulled over, and stopped the SUV. The ignition off, he climbed out, slammed the door, and leaned against the side of the vehicle. Sure enough, the crack, crunch, and pop of tires on dirt and gravel came closer.

  The red SUV rounded the bend and skidded to a stop, the face peering at him through the windshield familiar. Shoulder-length, wavy blond hair pulled back from her face with barrettes. Green eyes.

  The memory quickly surfaced. The underweight woman who’d stared him down at the bookstore and tried to pretend his scrutiny hadn’t ruffled her.

  Had he picked up a stalker? Ian straightened away from the vehicle, crossed his arms over his chest, and waited to see what she’d do. Best to let a potential foe make the first move. It revealed a great deal about a person. In her weakened physical condition, she was certainly no threat.

  After a few seconds that stretched into almost a minute, she shut off the ignition, got out, and approached, a book in one hand. The odd mix of uncertainty and determination on her face nearly made him smile, but he didn’t want to inadvertently encourage a stranger to follow him around.

  She stopped a few feet away, easily out of arm’s reach, but the breeze carried her scent toward him.

  Wolf. A whole new level of alertness kicked in. This wasn’t a human who’d taken an interest in him. A new wolf in town. She-wolf even.

  That could be good or bad, depending on her intentions. The last lone she-wolf had tried to kill one of the pack members and had to be put down.

  As he studied the one before him, he hoped that wouldn’t be the case. She had gumption. Add lovely to the mix, and it’d be a shame to have to kill her. “Would you care to explain why you’re following me?”

  “I’m looking for the author of this book.” She held up the one in her hand.

  One of the books Tanya had written. More specifically, the one about his life. He bit back a curse he shouldn’t even be thinking. I should’ve made Tanya publish under a pen name. “Why?”

  Annoyance flashed across her face. “I need information, and I figure the best way to get it is to go straight to the source.”

  “Information about what exactly?”

  She clenched her teeth and glared at him.

  Not many people had the courage to do that. He suppressed a smile and kept his face stern and cold. The scent of her anger reached his nose.

  “That’s none of your business unless you’re the author.”

  He sighed, making a show of impatience to mask amusement.

  “Look, I don’t appreciate being silently laughed at.”

  Ian flinched in surprise. How had she known?

  “Are you, or are you not, the author of this book?”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Why didn’t you just say so to begin with?” She rolled her eyes and flipped about on her heel to stomp back to her vehicle. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  “The author is in my family.”

  Sneakers slipped on gravel, she stopped and turned so fast. To her credit, she stayed on her feet. After a moment spent staring at him, she returned, not stopping until she was inches away. She inhaled deep through her nose then scowled. “I can’t smell anything but sage.”

  Ian chuckled. “When you walk into places like that, breathe through your mouth. It’ll save your sense of smell. If it hadn’t been for incense, you and I would’ve known from the get-go what we both were.” He cocked his head to study her. “How long have you been a werewolf?”

  “Four years.”

  “Where’s your pack?”

  “I don’t have one. Never have.”

  He raised a brow. “You’ve made it this long on your own?”

  “With my sanity mostly intact, yes.”

  He laughed and offered his hand. “Ian Campbell. And you are?”

  “Sophia Ferguson.” She put her hand in his without hesitation.

  “Why don’t you follow me home? We can talk there. If I like what you have to say, I’ll contact the person you actually came to see.”

  She nodded then trotted back to her vehicle.

  He climbed into the Expedition, started the ignition, and turned the vehicle around to go back to the highway, waiting to ensure Sophia’s Suburban was behind him before pulling onto the long stretch of road.

  It had been a long time since he’d spoken to a woman who would so boldly look him in the eye. Alison, mo chridhe, you’d like this one. He certainly did. More than was wise.

  A frisson of fear twisted through him. He’d have to find out what Sophia wanted then send her on her way. She could be dangerous.

  * * *

  I have to be out of my mind. Sophia contemplated turning around and going back to Flagstaff. She was following a strange man… correction, a strange werewolf to a home in the back woods somewhere probably very isolated. He could kill her and hide the body, and no one would ever know she was missing, much less have a clue where to find her.

  Her foot remained on the gas, and his back bumper remained in front of her. She’d come too far, searched too long, to leave without answers. He hadn’t seemed all that aggressive, other than some posturing that he probably thought hid the fact he’d been silently laughing at her.

  Sophia grinned. At least, he’d thought that until she’d burst his bubble. The look of shock on his face had most definitely been worth calling him on it.

  If nothing else, the discussion to come should be interesting. Even if she didn’t learn anything new, the man would be intriguing to talk to.

  Chapter 2

  Home of Ian Campbell, Pack Alpha

  Campbell Wildlife Preserve

  Outside Flagstaff, Arizona

  The heavy, tall gate closed behind Sophia’s vehicle with a finality that sent a chill through her. The outer fence and gate had been intimidating enough at probably ten-feet tall. The inner one had to be twice that. Were those normal for a “wildlife preserve”, which the sign on the outer gate had declared the property to be?

  Yep. Definitely out of my mind. Not only had she followed a strange werewolf home, two humongous gates now blocked the path to freedom. Trapped like a rat in a college student’s experiment. With a few differences, the scene had unfolded as she recalled reading in one of T.S. Campbell’s books. Only that offered any reassurance and kept her moving forward.

  Ian’s SUV stopped in front of a huge house.

  She braked behind him and shut off the ignition, staring at the house. How many people lived in that place? Surely a werewolf wouldn’t run a bed and breakfast or hotel. Right? Of course not. They wouldn’t have such high fences around the place if that was the case. Such enclosures were intended to keep people out. So why the massive house?

  A tap on her window made her jump. Ian raised a brow in question.

  Heat rushed to her face. Sophia grabbed her keys and pushed open the door, careful not to hit him as he stepped back to let
her out.

  He rounded the front of her vehicle and headed up a flagstone walkway to the front door.

  That’s when she noticed his hair was below his shoulders and pulled back in a leather strip. Combined with the rest of him, it gave the impression that he’d stepped out of another century. It suited him. Only the tan slacks and blue button-up shirt broke the Old World impression.

  He opened the unlocked front door and glanced over his shoulder. When she reached the porch, he crossed the threshold and waited on the other side, hand on the door, for her to enter. Stepping inside, she focused on her surroundings instead of the tall, broad man standing far too close. At nearly six feet tall, she’d never been considered petite. Next to him, she felt small and fragile. The fact she’d lost weight over the past several weeks only added to the vulnerability.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows all around allowed in natural light and provided sweeping views of the surrounding forest and mountains. Dark-stained hickory hardwood framed every window and graced the vaulted ceiling in wide beams bracketed by white oak boards. A large fireplace on the inside wall had been constructed with natural stone and sported a dark hickory mantle.

  A man who wants the outdoors indoors can’t be too bad. Hopefully.

  “This way.” Ian closed the front door and led her from the foyer to the kitchen. He pointed to stools at the breakfast bar. “Have a seat.” His brusque, authoritative tone raised her hackles.

  Sophia glared at him, which he completely ignored. Then again, maybe he just hadn’t noticed. She shook her head, pulled out one of the stools, and dropped onto it.

  He dug around in the refrigerator and pulled out a large covered platter. “So, tell me about yourself.”

  “Such as?”

  “How you were Turned would be a good start.”