The first wolf was easy. Of course it was Gentry, grandstanding with that silhouette in the doorway routine. But once Roarke went for his throat, Gentry backed away and let his thugs move in. Two came at Aidan from the side, and Roarke had just enough time to see his brother fend them off before two more leapt at Roarke.

He might not be able to defeat them all, but he could draw the fight away from the opening. Dodging and weaving, he managed to move the contest to the right side of the stone doorway. Aidan, obviously of the same mind, did the same with his two opponents on the left.

It was an odd place for a werewolf fight. The formal gardens in the back of the mansion were meticulously groomed, with hedges in geometrical patterns and marble statues dotting the well-tended flowerbeds. The scent of crushed flowers filled the air as Roarke struggled to hold his own and keep the wolves busy so Abby and Donald could escape.

But that struggle might be for nothing if Abby didn’t get her butt out here. Gentry was making his way back to the door, and soon he’d close it again, sealing her in. Roarke was so busy watching for Abby that one of the wolves got his teeth into Roarke’s thigh and pain shot through his leg.

Damn it, where was Abby? Then he saw her shove through the opening. She was practically dragging Donald. That little traffic cone was way more trouble than he was worth. Let him go, Abby!

Just then Gentry leaped at Abby, and Roarke pulled away from his assailants to stop him. But to Roarke’s amazement, Donald threw out an arm and blocked the wolf. Whether it was reflex or courage didn’t matter, because Donald had the element of surprise on his side. Obviously Gentry hadn’t expected any trouble from Donald and he went sprawling backward into a hedge.

Once again, Roarke had allowed himself to be bitten by one of his attackers, this time on his right hind leg. But when he saw Abby and Donald sprint for the front driveway and the waiting Town Car, he turned and threw himself into the fight in earnest. Thank God. She was getting away.

He, however, was weaker due to his wounds, and a quick check of his brother’s situation wasn’t all that encouraging, either. Aidan was a strong wolf, but so were his attackers, and there were two of them.

Roarke had even less going for him than Aidan. He’d expended most of his energy running through the forest to get here. He wondered if Gentry would allow his thugs to kill both Wallace heirs. Maybe. Gentry could always claim that the Wallace boys had put the werewolf community at serious risk and thus deserved to die.

As Roarke tried in vain to throw off his attackers, he noticed that Gentry was up and running to the driveway, too. If Abby had been on foot, Gentry would have caught her, but by now, she should be in the car on her way down the drive. She might have to smash through the gate, but the Town Car was built like a tank.

But wait, why was Gentry reversing course and running back this way? The roar of a powerful V-8 echoed against stone walls as the Town Car rounded the building right behind the racing wolf. If Gentry hadn’t leaped out of the way, Abby would have run him down.

And she kept coming, plowing through manicured hedges and knocking statuary right and left. The wolves working Aidan over glanced up as the car bore down on them with a red-headed maniac at the wheel. They ran, and Aidan staggered to his feet.

The car kept coming, roses and forsythia tangled in the front bumper and multiple scrapes and gashes in the glossy black hood. The rental company wasn’t going to like this. But Roarke loved it.

As his attackers bounded away, Abby and Donald each leaned over the seat and popped open the back doors. Roarke made for the right side and Aidan leaped for the left. They were both still scrambling for purchase on the leather seats when Abby took off again, the doors swinging wildly.

“Watch your tails, guys!” she called out. She yanked the steering wheel to the left as they rounded the other end of the house. The car went up on two wheels and the right door slammed shut. She made a hard right around a giant spruce and the left door banged into place.

Roarke glanced over to see how Aidan was doing. He’d braced himself against the seat in an attempt to stay as stable as possible. He had several wounds and had smeared about as much blood over the leather upholstery as Roarke had.

“Hang on!” Abby yelled. “We’re going through the gate. Donald, are you sure those air bags are deactivated?”

“Yep.”

“I hope you’re right, because here we go!” She smashed into the gate, and although the hood buckled, the gate popped open.

Donald punched a fist in the air. “Yee-haw!”

Abby swung the car out on the main road and it lumbered along as if it had at least one flat tire and maybe two.

Roarke looked at Aidan. Luckily for you, Abby’s in the insurance business.

If you think I’m putting in a claim, you took one too many blows to the head, little brother. So far as the rental company knows, this car disappeared without a trace. I’ll write them a big check, and everybody will be happy.

Roarke looked out the window for the first time and noticed which direction Abby had chosen. She was heading toward her grandfather’s place.

Hey, Aidan, we didn’t script this part.

Guess we’ll have to sit tight and trust that your girlfriend knows how to handle it.

She’s not my girlfriend.

Then she’s done a terrific imitation of your girlfriend. For God’s sake, Roarke, the two of you have risked life and limb for each other. What more evidence do you need?

Shut up, Spot.

Just try not to be a complete butthead, Rover.

* * *

Abby pulled up in front of Dooley’s General Store because she didn’t know what else to do. Yet she couldn’t let her grandfather, or Donald, for that matter, find out that she had a backseat full of werewolves. If she left them in the car, they could shift, but then they’d be naked, and a backseat full of naked guys wasn’t a whole lot easier to explain.

Maybe they’d shift and disappear into the woods, but she didn’t want that, either. They needed clothes and medical attention. No matter what Roarke said about their healing abilities, she’d feel better if she could watch over them.

She turned to Donald. “I need to let my grandfather know I’m okay. Come on in with me.” Then she turned toward Roarke and Aidan. “Both of you, stay. I’ll be right back with…stuff.”

Donald looked doubtful as he glanced back at Roarke and Aidan. “Are you going to just leave them here? They’re wounded and bleeding.”

“I know, and because they’re part wolf, you have to be careful with them when they’re injured. If we leave them alone to lick their wounds, they might allow us to tend them later on.”

“But—”

“I know my dogs, Donald. The kindest thing we can do at the moment is leave them to nurse their wounds. If we could provide them with a cave, they’d be that much happier.”

“If you say so. All I’ve ever had is cocker spaniels.”

“Way different.”

“Guess so.” Donald opened his door and stepped out.

Abby turned to Roarke and Aidan again and lowered her voice. “I mean it. Don’t slink off into the woods with no means of helping yourselves. I’ll get clothes for you, somehow.”

She had no idea if they would go along with her plan or not, but she hoped they would. She’d rescued them, and she wanted them to stay rescued. But she had to admit the whole shape-shifting angle made things more complicated.

With one last glance at her two charges, she got out of the Town Car and walked with Donald up to the front porch of her grandfather’s store. Before she got totally in the door, Grandpa Earl met her and pulled her into a bear hug.

He put his mouth close to her ear. “I found the flash drive.”

She went still. No, this couldn’t be happening. If he’d found the flash drive, then he was in danger, too, and she couldn’t have that. Why in hell had she left it in a place where he could find it?

Her grandfather released her and bestowed a big smile on Donald. “So, who’s this?”

Donald stuck out his hand. “Donald Smurtz, Mr. Dooley. A fellow Bigfoot seeker.”

“Indeed, indeed. Well, you look as if you’ve been rode hard and put away wet, Mr. Smurtz.”

“You have no idea. Your neighbor, Cameron Gentry, kidnapped us and was trying to say we’d stolen from him. And he had these vicious dogs that attacked Abby’s dogs. She left them out in the car, but I’m worried about them.”

Earl nodded and glanced sideways at Abby. “Right. Abby’s dogs. I’m sure you are worried.”

“They’ll be fine out there for a little while,” Abby said. “Thank goodness you’ve been keeping them here for me, though, Grandpa Earl. Those dogs rescued us from the Gentrys.”

“Speaking of your neighbors,” Donald said. “Do you have any garlic around? Or wooden stakes?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I wouldn’t say this to just anybody, Mr. Dooley, but if you’re convinced that Bigfoot exists, you might not think I’m crazy if I tell you that I think your neighbors are quite possibly…vampires.”

“Is that right?” Earl looked properly amazed and impressed. “Well, that would explain a lot.”

“Exactly! And now that we’ve escaped, we should be safe until dark, but we have to take precautions.”

“I’m sure we do. But how about a cup of hot chocolate and a cheese Danish while you’re sitting in front of my wood stove in the back of the store? Doesn’t that sound good?”

Abby barely heard any of the conversation. She was still processing the disturbing information that Grandpa Earl knew that Roarke was a werewolf, and he wouldn’t have much trouble figuring out that this entire mess was about werewolves, not the vampires that Donald kept babbling about. How could she protect her precious grandfather from being embroiled in this debacle?

She heard him setting Donald up with hot chocolate and a Danish. Earl suggested Donald take his shoes off and warm his feet by the fire. With the kind of night Donald had been through, he might even fall asleep back there, which would be a huge help.

“Let me go check on my granddaughter,” Earl said loudly enough that Abby could hear. Then he walked quickly between the shelves of merchandise and ushered her over into a far corner of the store. “Are the dogs in the car werewolves?”

“Yes. Roarke and his brother Aidan. Donald thinks they’re my dogs you’ve been keeping for me because I didn’t have room in Phoenix. My story was that they dug out of their pen and came to the Gentry estate looking for me.”

“So Donald has no idea that they’re—”

“No, thank God. He’s hung up on his vampire theory. But Roarke and Aidan need to shift back into human form, and then they’ll need clothes and possibly medication for their injuries, but I’m not sure about that. Apparently they can heal more quickly when they…” She looked at Grandpa Earl. “You really saw the pictures I took?”

He nodded. “When I got that ridiculous story late last night from Gentry, I—”

“What story?”

“He told me you and Roarke had eloped to Vegas. Then I got an email from your BlackBerry confirming it. But the email didn’t sound like you, so I got suspicious.”

“My BlackBerry.” Abby remembered having it on the hike, but she’d tucked it away when she’d realized there was no reception out in the woods. “He must have taken it when he dismantled our camp. I was too worried about being kidnapped by werewolves to think about something like my cell phone.”

“I got a call from your folks. They got a message from you saying that you were flying from Vegas to New York to meet your new in-laws. They didn’t think that sounded like you, either. So I started rummaging around in your room, and remembered the box with the secret compartment.”

Abby sighed. “I shouldn’t have left the flash drive in there. It’s one thing for me to know and have to deal with the fallout, but they don’t want their secret to get out, Grandpa. Anybody who knows becomes a suspicious person to them.” She glanced up at him. “Let’s pretend that you never saw it, okay? I won’t tell, and if you don’t tell, then—”

“But you’re in trouble, Abby. If I know what’s happening, I’m in a position to help you. Don’t worry about me. I’m an old man. They can’t do anything to me.”

She considered that for a moment. “I’m not saying I agree with you, but I do need help with something. They’re injured, and if they shift it helps them heal. But they need clothes.”

“That’s easy enough.” Her grandfather moved to the shelves of folded sweatshirts and sweat pants. “What size is the brother?”

“About the same as Roarke.”

Earl pulled down two generic gray sweatshirts and two pairs of sweats. “Let’s go over to the counter and take the tags off.” But as he was doing that, he looked up. “This won’t work. I assume when they’re dressed they’ll want to come into the store.”

“I guess so. We have to figure out what to do next.”

“Then what am I supposed to say when they walk into the store wearing my merchandise?”

“Oh.”

Earl frowned in concentration. “Can they understand what you’re saying to them when they’re wolves?”

“Yes.”

“Then here’s what you told me. They were in a fight over at the Gentrys, and their clothes are so ripped and mangled that they were afraid to walk in here like that and asked if I’d sell them something to put on. So you came in and got these things.”

Abby considered the explanation and hoped it would work. “I just don’t want them to know that you know.”

“Give that story a shot, and if it doesn’t work and they suspect I know, oh, well.” He finished removing the tags and refolded the clothes. “In any case, I’m glad I have something those boys can wear temporarily.”

She shook her head in bewilderment. Her grandfather was referring to a couple of werewolves as boys. Apparently their shape-shifting ability didn’t change the fact that they were young men who had been hanging out with his granddaughter, so that made them boys.

“They need something for their feet,” he said. “I think flip-flops are the answer for now. I’ll get a couple of pairs.” He headed toward the rack at the far end of the store.

When he returned, his eyes were bright. “My strategy worked. Donald’s asleep in his chair.”

“Grandpa Earl, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re pretty important to me, too, kiddo, but I have to ask, did you see the Sasquatch pair?”

“I didn’t, but Roarke did.”

Her grandfather sighed happily. “I knew he would! I knew he had the right stuff for the mission.” He clipped the nylon string holding the flip-flops together and placed both pairs on the stack of clothes.

“Thanks, Grandpa.” She scooped up the clothes.

“No problem. I want that boy back to his human form as soon as possible so he can tell me all about the Sasquatch.” Then he rolled his eyes. “Listen to me, being so self-centered. He probably has other more important things to do, but I would really—”

“I’ll make sure you get a full report, Grandpa.” She hurried back out to the car. How she longed for her grandfather to see the Sasquatch pair board the helicopter. Having a wolf accompanying them wouldn’t surprise him, now, but he wasn’t supposed to know about that.

She briefly considered smuggling him to the spot without telling Roarke but knew she couldn’t do it. Roarke had trusted her with far more information than he should have, and no doubt he’d catch hell for it with his pack. If she betrayed him in any way, she wouldn’t be able to live with herself, even if he never found out.

Roarke and Aidan were both lying in the back seat, and when she opened the back door and saw the amount of blood, both on them and on the back seat, she gasped. “I need to get you some towels, and probably a first aid kit, and—”

Roarke growled softly.

“You don’t want those things, do you?”

He growled again. Then he reached up and put a paw on the clothes she held in her arms.

“Right. The clothes.” She hoped that she’d become a convincing liar because she had to look into those green eyes and make him believe her. She repeated the story her grandfather had concocted.

Roarke’s unwavering gaze unnerved her. She was afraid he could tell exactly what she was thinking.

She broke eye contact. “Okay, then. I’ll leave the clothes, and once you’ve shifted, we’ll talk. By the way, Donald’s asleep in front of the wood stove, so you caught a break, there. I can tell him I tucked the dogs back in their kennel. You can give him whatever story you want when you see him and I’ll go along with it.”

She put the clothes on the floor of the car, away from the bloody seats. “Oh, and Roarke, I told Grandpa Earl that you’d seen the Sasquatch pair, and of course he’s dying to hear the details.” With that she closed the car door.

Then she realized they might want to leave the car before shifting, and she opened the door again. Leaving it propped open about two inches so they could choose which way they wanted to accomplish their shift, she left.

Technically, she could have hung around and watched through the car window if she’d wanted to see them shift. But it wasn’t a private moment with Roarke this time, either, and she had no desire to embarrass herself or Aidan by catching him in the nude. His wife might not like that much.

Or maybe Aidan didn’t consider Emma a wife. Maybe calling her his mate was more inclusive, more permanent, and—truthfully—more thrilling. Abby walked back into the store thinking about that. The concept of becoming Roarke’s mate, instead of his wife, was actually pretty damned exciting.

She would have to accept the idea that their children could end up in either camp. Was that so horrible? If they couldn’t shift, then she’d teach them how to live in the Were community as a non-shifter. If they could shift, then Roarke could instruct them in the finer points of werewolf etiquette.

Parents often had to take those kinds of roles depending on the temperament of their children. Or grandparents did. She wondered how she might have turned out if she hadn’t had Grandpa Earl to depend on, the man who understood fanciful children.

One thing was for sure, she never would have fallen in love with a werewolf. She only hoped that werewolf hadn’t been able to tell she’d just lied to his face.