"Mary Janice Davidson - Wyndham Werewolves 02 - Jared's Wolf" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davidson Mary Janice)

Who would have thought a five foot nothing girl with eyes the color of pale violets would be so hard to
knock out? Who would have thought she'd pack such a wallop?

Who would have thought he wouldn't be able to stop staring at her?

He knelt, pulled the tranquilizer dart out of her throat, and checked her pulse. Nice and strong. Weirdly
strong. It was as if she was in a light sleep, not a drugged unconsciousness. If he didn't know for a fact
that werewolves were all men, he'd wonder . . .

He picked her up, surprised again at how light she was. His dirty laundry weighed more. Now what to
do with her? He couldn't leave such a delectable morsel lying around for anyone to nibble. Besides, if she
had the freedom to wander Wyndham's grounds, she was probably a source of information. Perhaps a
slave to the werewolves.

Anger swelled at the thought of this little sweetie at the beck and call of those monsters. Well, he could
help her, and she could certainly help him. When she woke up, he'd pump her for whatever info she
could provide.

The thought of pumping the blonde brought a surge of heat to his groin, which annoyed the hell out of
him. You've got a dirty mind, buddy, he told himself. Just because you haven't gotten laid in a while . . .

He started back toward his truck. Wyndham and his pack of murdering dogs weren't going anywhere.
His sister had been waiting too long in her grave for vengeance. He'd get the information he needed, see
blondie on her way, and come back to avenge his sister.

God help anyone who got in his way.




Chapter Two



Moira opened her eyes and said, "I'm going to rip off your skin for that."

Beside her, the idiot-twit-jerkoff who'd shot her jumped in surprise. She heard the 'thump' of his book
hitting the floor, and sat up.

Andnearly fell herself, as a wave of dizziness slammed into her. She quickly shut her eyes, and groped
for the edge of the bed. "As soon as I get my hands on you. Death. Agony. Screaming. I foresee all of
these happening to you. Perhaps several times."

He had picked up his book, and now she felt cool hands on her, easing her back. "Take it easy, cutie.
The trank packs a punch."

"Believe me, schmuck, putz, moron," she said. "You don't know what a punch is."

"You shouldn't even be awake yet," he soothed.