“Already pulling through the gates, baby.”

  Navarro’s eyes closed momentarily, and then he stood. “Bring everyone here,” he said, enunciating so precisely the Spanish inflections in his voice sliced the air. “Lock down this place. And then I want everyone in this room. Get this dog some clothes.” He left in the direction of the front of the house as tires squealed in the distance.

  Max slumped to his knees. “Darcy was killed by a wolf?”

  Joe didn’t answer, but his breaths grew choppy.

  “I swear, I didn’t know. I wasn’t part of this.”

  “Save it for someone who gives a damn. Far as I’m concerned, you’re a walking dead man.”

 

 

  Delilah Devlin, Desire's Prisoner

 

 

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