Page 6 of Zeven Ways to Kill Your Lover

What the fuck? His chest tightened, making it hard to breathe. He’d only just found her, and this was her reaction? She thought she could just leave him again. It wasn’t happening. “You won’t die. I’ll protect you.”

“You?” She laughed and even though the doubt in the sound tore his heart out, the fact that it was her standing in front of him repaired it as well. “You must be nuts! The last time I trusted you, my whole family was killed, murdered, torn into—” She choked off. Her gaze hit him hard and angry. “I won’t do this, won’t be part of this again.”

“Part of what?”

“Your world! Damn it, Zeven, all I want to do is to forget that werewolves even exist and every time I turn around, there they are, ready to ruin my life again.” She backed away from him. “I can’t do it anymore.” She spun and bolted for the back of the house.

For one heartbeat he considered letting her go. It probably would be better for her. She’d run, change her name again and be safe. Even if he had to slaughter the whole Coyote Clan, he could protect her and let her escape. But doing so, losing her again… He’d die a little more. And there simply wasn’t that much left of him now.Fuck.He pounded through the house, catching her at the back door.

He brought her hard against his body, but the attempt to still her struggling failed, so he slung her over his shoulder.

She screamed and pounded on his back. Then she pleaded and begged, “Let me go. Please, if you ever cared for me at all, just let me go.”

He almost relented, but he couldn’t. He needed her like air. He adjusted his grip, sliding her from his shoulder, and back into his arms, where he held her tight to his chest.

Then she cried.

And something deep inside him, something dangerously close to hope, broke with every tear that fell.

Chapter Five

Jose Garcia had been ordered to follow the killer and confirm the doctor’s death. After observing and identifying his weaknesses, he was supposed to call Sheila immediately. They wanted to know exactly when to expect the killer to return to the main house. They hadn’t ever explained the plan in full detail, but he’d managed to figure out most of it. What they had in mind started here with the doctor. And if it went according to plan, it certainly would not end well for Ochoa.

He had followed. He was watching, but so far nothing he’d seen would make Sheila happy.

He hunkered down in the landscaped shrubs of the house across from the street. He’d been there at the Rose Den and watched the people die and done nothing. Here he was again watching someone die and yet again he was going to do nothing. His stomach churned with impotent anger.

But the doctor hadn’t died yet. Maybe the killer wouldn’t live up to his reputation, maybe he wasn’t as cold and deadly as his clan had been known to be. If Ochoa had good instincts, maybe he’d just ignore the contract and leave with the mark. If he did, he might be able to slip out of the noose slowly tightening around him.

Although the Coyote Clan had bordered the Rattlesnake territory for centuries, he personally knew very little about the one known as Zeven. What he did know didn’t lend itself to optimism. Even as one of the clan’s youngest members, Zeven Ochoa had wiped out his small clan in a single brutal night.

Such a thing was unheard of among their people. They might be predators but the society and culture of Valàfrn werewolves were built on tight family bonds. Survival for them depended on the trust and security of their clans.

Then again, sometimes the clan shattered and when that happened, each and every wolf suffered. Like his own clan suffered. Perhaps this Zeven had his reasons… There were some valid ones for killing one’s clan mates. He knew of a few atrocities that Sheila and her husband had committed that he’d find perfect justification for a death sentence.

Ever since Jack had joined hands with Sheila, there’d been nothing but schemes and violence. Their great plan was ridiculous. Their clan already had enough. Why did they need to be so greedy?

Maybe their luck would run out when faced against the last surviving member of the Rattlesnake Clan. Maybe he should try and make contact with Zeven. If he warned the killer about the plot, would he help free the Coyote Clan? He didn’t have enough information about Ochoa to take the risk. Ochoa alone wouldn’t likely make any difference.

What would his father say to such dark and violent thoughts? His father would be disappointed, but his mother would be pleased to find their deaths avenged and their clan freed. One thing both his dead parents would be adamant about was saving his people from their current imprisonment.

His hand brushed over the thick collar that encased his neck and smothered his powers.

If he were free of it, he could kill darling Aunt Sheila and release his people, but he wasn’t. He couldn’t save them. He’d known that terrible truth three years ago when this nightmare began.

What he didn’t know is why no one came to their aid. He’d sent out numerous pleas for help to the council of elders. He’d been expecting one of the notorious shadow warriors or even a diplomat sent to investigate. Neither had come. Years had passed. So many people had been lost. All but Shiela and her few favorites were left to suffer.

The collar around his neck tingled a warning. A summons. Sheila was waiting for her confirmation call and would be pissed to hear that the doctor was not yet dead. A second jolt had him flipping open his cell phone to call her. Delay would only add to his pain.

Chapter Six

Zeven relaxed his grip on Harley. He cradled her against his body, wishing desperately for the social skills he didn’t have. How the hell could he comfort her? He lacked the right words. Still, he had to say something, had to distract her from her fear.

“Please don’t cry, Harley. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I’m here now. I’ll protect you.”

Her trembling stilled. “But who will protect me from you?”

Damn if that wasn’t the bone of it. Being with him was bad for her. His life had become one focused on nothing but one death after another. She wasn’t the kind of woman who could live in the shadows. But did it matter? Now that he’d found her, he wasn’t strong enough to watch her walk away. “I can’t let you go. Not again.”

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