Page 104 of Ice Wolf
He instantly slammed on the brakes, tires squealing. “Stop doing that!”
“You almost hit a mama deer and her baby.” I pointed to the beautiful creatures. They weren’t moving, stunning by the lights.
Saint leaned forward, remaining silent. There was a sudden sharp jolt of current. I turned my head, shifting my gaze fromMama deer to Saint. Whoa. Hold on. Was he communicating with the deer?
With a single slight tilt of Saint’s head, Mama deer’s ears twitched and she dropped her head briefly before shooing her fawn off the road. I watched as they danced into the trees.
“What was that?” I asked.
“What? Oh, you mean with the deer? You just gotta remind them who’s boss. She’ll be fine. We’re almost there.”
I kept my gaze locked on him, uncertain if the man was kidding or not. Somehow, I didn’t think so. He’d pulled some kind of crazy magic on the deer. I sat back, trying to calm my nerves. There was absolutely no reason to be fearful of the man.
But what about the creature lurking beneath?
He pulled up to a gate a few seconds later. I wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t stopped the car, the headlights shining on the iron rails. Even from where I was sitting, I could tell there was an attached fence that ran down both sides in through the trees. The system was covered in foliage. If you didn’t know where you were going, you’d never find it. He rolled the car closer, pressing the button for the window.
When he pressed his fingers against a screen on a console, my hackles were immediately raised. “Who are you people?”
“Oh, you mean the security? Started with my grandfather who played hockey. Then my uncle, a notorious goalie who didn’t have the best reputation. He was hounded every day so he installed the system.”
I had no desire to ask a single question at this point. It seemed as if I was in an episode of theTwilight Zone. The gate swung open while I was still staring at him.
He wasn’t deterred in the least, at least driving more cautiously as he moved down a gravel driveway. It was pitch black, trees everywhere. Until there was light. Not just a single light creating a pathway, but a series of low-level lighting along the gravel road and in the trees. The gravel gave way to asphalt, becoming wider. Then there were fancy streetlights and a couple of street signs, although they certainly didn’t look as if they’d been provided by the Chicago Department of Transportation.
I noticed a driveway of aggregate stone pillars on both sides.
“What’s wrong?” he asked after a few seconds of my silence.
“This is like a little town.”
“Yeah, my uncle and aunt were creative that way. We have a big family and they wanted a nice secure place for everyone. Plus, we have a lake that backs up to the property for recreational fun. Nice area.”
“Then why don’t you live here?”
“Because I like my privacy.”
I had no idea what to say. This wasn’t just private. The area was like a compound of some kind. Beautiful from what I could see, but far removed from any other people.
Obviously, I’d been staring at him for longer than I’d realized because he’d made a turn and suddenly, we were in front of a house. I slowly turned my head, leaning forward to stare out the windshield. The log cabin appearance was complete with two distinct wings, a breezeway between them. There were trees allaround with a body of water in front, a wide wooden bridge leading from the driveway to the massive porch.
There were incredible decorative lights everywhere, the house full of oversized windows.
“This is beautiful.”
“That depends on whether baby brother has trashed the place since I was here last. Come on.” He didn’t allow me to carry a single bag. We headed across the bridge and I leaned over the railing. There were dozens of fish swimming over rocks, the water flow creating a peaceful sound.
“Are you going to let your brother know we’re here?”
“Oh, he knows. Trust me. He knows.”
While I would normally think that meant there were security cameras, I had yet to see one. For some crazy reason, a shiver trickled down my back.
Maybe there was more to the pictures and the stories about Saint after all.
What if he was a wolf in a hockey jersey? Would that matter?
“How long are we staying here?” I asked.
