“Yes.” Howard hesitated. “About the curse; I thought you should know that the story is true.”
“Of course it’s true,” Walter huffed. “You think I’ve been lying to you all these years?”
“I met the Guardian of the Forest.”
“Hot damn! Are you serious?”
“I’m in love with her.”
“What?” Walter sounded shocked. “When did this happen?”
“The last few weeks.”
“Damn, boy. You work fast.”
Howard grinned. “I just wanted you to know that I intend to marry her. That should put an end to the curse, don’t you think?”
“Well . . .” Walter paused. “I’d be kinda worried about the curse repeating itself.”
“I’m not going to hurt her.”
“I don’t mean that. The first guardian betrayed us.”
“Elsa would never betray me,” Howard insisted. “She loves me.”
“Well . . .” Walter hesitated again. “I think you’d better be careful. You still have an enemy out there. You know Rhett has to be furious.”
“I know.”
“He’s lost most of his minions and his power,” Walter continued. “He’s going to blame you for that.”
Howard swallowed hard. He’d been so busy avenging Harry’s death that he hadn’t thought about the consequences. Now Rhett would be seeking vengeance. “I heard he’s disappeared.”
Walter sighed. “It’s worse than that. Rumor has it that Rhett has left the state. Watch your back, son.”
Elsa was finishing supper with her aunts at the diner when her cell phone dinged, signaling a text.
“Is that him?” Greta grumbled.
“He’s a good guy,” Elsa insisted, although she knew her aunts didn’t believe her. She read the message.
LET ME KNOW IF ANY STRANGERS COME TO TOWN, ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT ME OR MY COUSINS. DON’T LET ANYONE KNOW YOU’RE INVOLVED WITH ME. IT WILL MAKE YOU A TARGET.
What? She read the message again. A target for what? A target like Harry? She gulped and dropped her phone into her handbag.
“Are you all right?” Ula sat across the table, finishing a piece of apple pie. “You look a little pale.”
“I just hope she isn’t pregnant,” Greta muttered.
Elsa stiffened. She certainly wasn’t pale now. Her cheeks burned as she wondered about the possibility. She was on the pill, but she’d gone to the cabin without them, so she’d missed a day.
Baby were-bears? Her hand pressed instinctively on her stomach.
“Well, hello there.” A man stopped by their table and smiled at Greta. “We meet again.”
“Mr. Pelton.” Greta smiled at him, then leaned close to Elsa. “This is the reporter I told you about. From Alaska.”
“And you must be Miss Bjornberg, the niece Greta was telling me about.” Mr. Pelton gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of sad news, but I’m afraid Howard Barr is a dangerous person to associate with.”
“We’ve been telling her that,” Greta said.
Elsa winced. “He’s done nothing wrong.”
“I see.” The reporter removed a pen and pad of paper from his briefcase. “Then perhaps you can tell me where I can reach him? I’d like to interview him and get his side of the story. That seems only fair, don’t you think?”
Howard’s text ran through Elsa’s mind. “I don’t know where he lives.”
“What?” Greta gave her an incredulous look.
Elsa lifted her chin. “We meet at my place of work.”
The reporter checked his notes. “And that would be the gatehouse down the road that’s being renovated?”
Elsa’s heart raced. What was this reporter up to?
“Yes, that’s it,” Greta answered.
Elsa nudged her aunt with her foot.
Greta leaned close and whispered, “He’s trying to help you.”
With a frown, Mr. Pelton dropped his pad of paper into his portfolio and removed a few pages of paper. “I can see you need further convincing.” He set the papers on the table. “This one is a copy of yesterday’s paper, and this one is from this morning’s paper.”
Elsa saw the big headline “Madman Attacks Bleddyn” and the photo of Howard seizing a man by the tie. The man had to be Rhett Bleddyn, the nasty werewolf who hated Howard. She studied the photo. Rhett had shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes. His mouth was twisted into a smirk. The article made it look like he was innocent and Howard was a crazed criminal.
The second paper said that Rhett had gone missing and authorities suspected Howard. She recalled his words in the cabin. I’m going to destroy Rhett.
“So you still can’t tell me where Howard Barr is?” the reporter asked.
Elsa swallowed hard. “No.”
Her aunts shook their heads at her.
Mr. Pelton scowled at her. “A detective from the Anchorage Police Department is arriving tomorrow morning to investigate Mr. Barr. I suggest you cooperate with him.”
A chill ran down Elsa’s back.
“Oh, she will,” Greta assured the reporter.
“Here’s my card if you change your mind.” Mr. Pelton passed a business card to Elsa.
When she took it, her hand brushed against his. An instant burst of heat exploded from her birthmark. With a gasp, she dropped the card on the table.
The reporter narrowed his eyes.
With a forced smile, she grabbed the card. “Sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have eaten the chili cheese fries.”
He nodded. “Good evening.” He strode toward the exit.
A berserker. Elsa watched him leave. She’d bet anything he wasn’t a bear like Howard and his cousins. No, Mr. Pelton was probably a werewolf. Like Rhett Bleddyn.
She glanced down at Rhett’s photo in the paper. The article had clearly been biased in his favor. Was the paper owned by werewolves? Was Mr. Pelton working for Rhett Bleddyn?
She waited until she was alone in her hotel room before she texted Howard.
A REPORTER FROM ALASKA, MR. PELTON, IS LOOKING FOR YOU. AND A POLICE DETECTIVE FROM ANCHORAGE WILL ARRIVE TOMORROW MORNING. MR. PELTON IS A BERSERKER.
A text came back from Howard.
STAY AWAY FROM THEM. THEY PROBABLY WORK FOR RHETT.
She showered and sat up in bed, reading the articles once again. Apparently, the photo was taken at Harry’s memorial service. And since Rhett was the one who had killed Harry, she couldn’t blame Howard for attacking him. The article also mentioned how Howard had been arrested for killing a girl twenty years earlier.
She tossed the paper onto the bedside table. What was the truth behind that? She really wanted to know, but how could she text Howard and ask him if he’d killed his high school sweetheart? As hard as she tried, she couldn’t come up with a nice way to ask him about it.
The next time she saw him, she’d show him the papers. Then he could explain.
With that settled in her mind, she turned off the bedside light. Aunt Ula was already asleep in the second bed. Aunt Greta had the room next door. She was probably polishing her guns.
Elsa snuggled under the covers and rubbed her birthmark. She would need to shake hands with the detective from Anchorage. If her suspicions were correct, he would make her mark burn.
She tossed and turned most of the night, not fully falling asleep until the wee hours of the morning.
A beautiful man came to her in the night. Large and powerful, he covered her body with his. His big hands roamed over her skin, setting her on fire. She wanted him. She cried out for him. She burned for him.
His hands were magic. Skimming the length of her legs. Fondling her breasts. Stroking her neck. Tightening their grip.
Choking her.
She thrashed against him, but he was too strong. Too powerful.
His face, half hidden in shadow, twisted in rage. Transformed. He roared like an animal.