Folding it into a tiny square, I palm the note in the middle of my hand.Making a few practice moves to make sure I look natural, I swallow hard and open the door.
Wulf is right outside.We are eye-to-eye, only inches apart.I get my first close look at the man who haunted my dreams when I first arrived on Landslide.
His hair is long.Not as long as my own, but close.But there is no chance of Wulf Ifan’s son ever being mistaken for a female.
He must be close to six and a half feet tall standing in his Nike Air Force 1 sneakers.His outfit is such a strange mix of modern and vintage.
He lifts up his arm and pushes a few strands of hair away from his face; he blinks.It’s a very human gesture.
His scuffed, ragged jeans slung low on his lean hips show the white band of his boxer shorts hugging the sharply angled pelvic lines that run along the sides of his six-pack.And then he drops his arms and it is hidden.
The broad width of his shoulders pull the thin cotton of the long-sleeved antique shirt tight.I know it is genuine vintage because of the tiny handmade stitching on the seams and yellowing whiteness.We did history of fashion in college.This is the kind of shirt Mr.Darcy would have worn in the early nineteenth century.
The billowing folds of the shirt is not enough to conceal the massive development of his deltoids and pecs.
Everything about this man seems designed to intimidate and fascinate at the same time.A flash of sympathy ripples through me when I think of his victims.They might have died happy if this beautiful man was with them.
He reaches out and touches my face, never taking his eyes off me.
“What are you hiding?”His voice is deep with suspicion.
If there was any blood left in my face, it must be draining out of there right now.But I won’t go down without a fight.
“My fear.”
His smile is brilliant, creating cute dimples in his cheek and causing the corners of his eyes to crinkle.Again, it makes him look dashingly handsome and human.
Jerking his head in the direction of the staircase, he orders me, “Go get rid of the dog.Go on.The bastard won’t stop yapping otherwise.”
I must hold onto the banister as if my life depends on it, because I get the feeling that my legs might buckle underneath me at any time.
“Come, Mu, come outside and get a treat.”
The Samoyed sticks his head up from the couch, but he doesn’t move.
“Come on, Mu.”Patting my thighs, I make encouraging noises and rattle the packet of dried fish.“Come and get some nice nyum-nyums.”
Convinced it is not a trick to lock him outside, Mu comes out with a jaunty step.
Kneeling down, I give him the snack while pretending to hug him as I hide the note under his collar.
“Take this to Shadow, Mu.”I whisper the plea in his ear.
After kissing him hard on his snoot, I stand up.“Go on, Mu.Get out of here.”
The dog looks at me intently for what seems like a long while.Then Mu looks back at the front door.It’s as if he is debating.In my mind, I try and transmit to the dog that he will be more helpful by leaving.
Wulf is lurking on the second floor, Mu.If you don’t scoot right now, then both of us will die.
Giving a soft woof, Muohta darts down the porch steps and runs into the lane.I watch him go with a lump in my throat.
Closing the door behind me, I look towards the staircase before realizing that Wulf is now seated in the armchair.
He’s holding my phone in his hand.
“We have a couple of hours before sunset, Luna.Let’s make good use of it.”
Flopping down on the couch, I struggle to overcome the despair rising inside me.
