Full Blooded

by Amanda Carlson

  “Jessica, last night you smelled like nothing I’d ever come across before. It set me right off the moment I entered your apartment. It sent my wolf into a bloody frenzy. It was actually hard for me to get you out of my mind so I could sort out the rogue. My wolf paced with a constant need to satisfy you, to comfort you, to enjoy you thoroughly. It was all I could do to keep a rein on things. By the time we had the place to ourselves, your scent intensified by three hundredfold. There was no stopping it.”

  I smiled sheepishly. What had happened in the hallway moments prior to entering my apartment must’ve made me smell like a harlot on steroids, but I wasn’t going to go into that here. “I don’t smell like that now, do I?” I asked, a little panicked.

  James took a gratuitous sniff even though we both knew he could smell me just fine. “You do smell different than a regular wolf—not bad, mind you, just a bit different. Definitely sweeter. But, no, you don’t smell anything like you did last night. Last night was …” His face hardened. “… Let’s say it was intense. When you give off a smell like that, male wolves will come running. There’s no doubt about it.”

  “Danny, Tyler, and Nick didn’t seem to have a similar reaction to me,” I said, feeling a bit stricken that I might be a dinner bell for salivating horny wolves without knowing it. “Maybe you’re just more sensitive to it.”

  James laughed. It was a great sound. “Well, I should hope Tyler wouldn’t be feeling very amorous of you. You two are bonded as kin. I’m betting your smell was quite sour to him. I can’t speak for Nick, because he’s not a wolf, but I would actually think you would smell like danger to him in that state. As for Danny, well, your wolf is very dominant, and while he might have liked to act on your scent very much, his wolf wouldn’t have been so bold as to come on to yours directly. He would need permission from you first—some kind of a signal it was okay to make an advance.” There was a slight growl in his voice. “I believe in the future you will only have issues with the most dominant of us.” James regarded me for a moment over his plate of eggs. “The rest will likely be a bit worried.”

  As I ate my breakfast, I reflected on how much I didn’t know about wolves. I was a newborn in every sense. “James, can I ask you something else?”

  “Of course.”

  “How do you mate with human women? Well, I know how you mate, of course, but what about babies? I know it’s hard for humans to carry them to term.” That’s how I lost my own mother. Carrying one wolf was hard, two was impossible. She died shortly after our births, and it was a miracle she’d held on for that long. “That’s why there are so few new wolves around. But if a human woman actually does get pregnant, how does it all work? Especially if you’re not mated. What do you tell them?”

  “In the beginning, there’s no need to tell them anything,” he said. “We go on a few dates, woo them if we’re so inclined, go through the process, and then see if we’re lucky enough to procreate when it’s all said and done.”

  “That sounds … um … promising.”

  James chuckled. “Actually, we have a bit in our saliva that helps keep a woman in the dark if we’re not interested in a longterm commitment. Over time, if we choose to stay with them, or they are carrying our child, their bodies make up antibodies and they become immune to it.”

  I choked. “What do you mean by ‘a bit in our saliva’?”

  “Our saliva contains a drug to keep them a bit hazy about the whole thing, so they’re not exactly sure if they’ve been with us or not the next morning. It’s necessary, since with emotion our eyes tend to light up; it makes coupling a little tricky.”

  “What in the hell”—I coughed, swallowing my eggs wrong—“are you talking about? It sounds like you just said we have roofies built into our saliva.”

  “Think about it, Jessica. There are only a few women in the entire world who are compatible with us genetically—who can even be impregnated to begin with. And there are even fewer who are capable of carrying our baby to full term, and even less who can survive the actual birthing. So in order for us to find a woman who meets all those criteria, we have to …” He cleared his throat “… Well, let’s just say it takes a lot of trying on our part.”

  I thought about it for a moment. It made sense when he put it like that, but still. “I take it you’ve had a lot of tries over the last few centuries.”

  “Yes.”

  “What about finding your mate? Wouldn’t that be easier than sleeping with hundreds of women hopped up on roofie-saliva? Aren’t true mates supposed to be able to bear your children with no problems?” I moved over to the sink to rinse my plate.

  “That’s what it states in our lore, though I’ve witnessed very few couplings through the centuries.” He sounded suddenly weary. “If each of us waited for our one true mate, we would cease to exist as a race—and we don’t exactly have that luxury. Without offspring, our species will become extinct.”

  “A fair enough point.”

  “You don’t need a true mate to have tikes,” James said. “You just need a gal who has something lingering in her gene pool from long ago, when villages used to be situated close to Pack boundaries. There were plenty of women back then who could birth strong pups. The lads even stayed with their mums until their adolescence. Then, over time, the lines became diluted as the gene pools spread out. We’ve lost our ability to reproduce easily.” James was deep in thought for a moment. “True mates weren’t as important to us back then. Once a woman had your child, she was considered your mate and you protected her and your son as such.”

  Was there a touch of sadness lingering behind that last part? To my knowledge James had never fathered a child, but I wasn’t sure. I’d only been alive for twenty-six years, not the last few hundred. “A true mate is supposed to provide you with more than just a child, though, right? Supposedly compatible to your wolf in all ways. She is able to give you children, but she can also calm a part of your wolf like no other, and from what I understand, she alone can keep you from making a change.”

  “Aye. And your wolf, in its true form, is supposed to be able to spot her from a great distance. Your blood sings for her.” James walked to the sink and started to fill the basin. “ ’Tis the rarest gift to receive.”

  “My mother wasn’t my father’s true mate, was she?” I’d always wondered but never had the nerve to ask my father. Since I’d never known her, she was only a figment attached to a few photographs. I’d grown up in such a male-dominated world, I’d never had a chance to dwell on it too much. If she had been there, I’d be a much different person than I was today. Maybe I’d be softer. Who knew?

  “That wasn’t entirely clear to outsiders, even in the end.” James dipped his hands into the sudsy water he’d drawn and grabbed a dish off the counter. “Callum was crazy for your mum. Followed after her like a lovesick puppy. Though when Annie died in childbirth, he didn’t go through the deep, dark depression they say happens to a wolf when he’s deprived of his mate. He also didn’t end his own life, which is commonly spoken of in the lore. He was already Alpha then, though, and had a pair of twins to look after. Your father has always done things his own way.” That sounded about right. “He’s a man worthy of following. The strongest I’ve ever known.”

  James washed the dishes and handed them to me to dry. He’d always been fiercely loyal to my father. He would make a wonderful mate to a female, strong and valiant. I found myself hoping he would find her someday, aching for him to find his happiness.

  He caught me staring. “What is it?”

  “Nothing.” I glanced at the clock. “We should get going. We don’t want to leave my father waiting.”

  “No, Jessica, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  13

  James and I headed out of my apartment together. James discreetly forced my door back into its rightful opening, while I knocked on Juanita’s door. I hadn’t seen her since before my apartment had been trashed, and I was hoping she’d be home. She usually left early fo
r work, so she was probably up.

  The door whipped open before I had a chance to knock.

  Juanita pulled me into a fierce hug. “Ooooh, Chica! I have been so worried! It es soooo good to see you here in the live.” She pushed me in front of her and then grabbed me back into another bear hug. For a tiny person of roughly five feet two inches—in heels—she was a lot stronger than she looked. I also noted, when she finally let me go for the last time, that her ensemble today consisted of a bright pink sleeveless blouse accentuating her ample breasts, coupled with an orange miniskirt. Her hair and makeup were flawless. Her scent, I quickly found after I separated out the myriad other smells, was equal parts eucalyptus and lime. She smelled tough, and I liked it.

  “It’s good to see you too, Juanita,” I told her, stepping out of reach of any more hugs.

  She pushed up on tiptoes and glanced over my shoulder. James was still wrestling with the door. “Oooooh, Chica! Muy bien!” She gave me a saucy wink. “I was beginning to worry, you know, when I don’t hear from you.” She bobbed her head toward James and then leaned toward me for a conspiratorial whisper. I obligingly met her halfway. “Es that who you were fighting weeth last night? I hear some noises again coming from jour place.” She laughed and elbowed me in the stomach.

  “Um, yes, he’s the one.” What else was I going to say? Nope, it was a scary rogue werewolf trying to kill me?

  “I keep jour secret, Chica. You know me, I weel always have jour back. We”—she motioned between the two of us with her cherry red nails—“we have to stay together when the tough get going.”

  “That’s great, Juanita. Thanks.” I felt like a chump asking her for a favor when I had so obviously shunned this nice woman’s attempts at friendship over the last few years. “Um, I have a favor to ask you, Juanita, if you don’t mind.”

  “No problem.” She smiled at me with no misgivings. “I do it for you, whatever it es.”

  “As you can see, I had a little problem with my door last night.” James grunted under his breath at my choice of the word ‘little.’ “I’m going to call the super, but I was hoping you could maybe keep an ear out if anyone who happens to come by when you’re around?”

  “Sí, thees es my day off, so I weel keep up guard for you no problems!”

  I eyed her outfit again, wondering what motivation got you out of bed and into full dress and makeup on your day off. But who was I to judge? This woman was turning out to be a great ally, and I was kind of running short on those at the moment.

  “Listen, Juanita.” I leaned in closer and she immediately followed, her forehead almost touching mine. “It’s very important you don’t open your door if you hear anyone out here, no matter who it is.” As I said it, I looked straight into her eyes, trying to force some Vulcan mind-meld mojo at her—a gift that I might or might not have, but it was worth a try. I was interested in Juanita’s help, but I had no intention of forfeiting her life for it. Whoever hired rogues meant business. They would not hesitate to take her out. “I mean it, Juanita. No door opening under any circumstances. Use your peephole and call me if anything seems … um, I guess … strange.” Well, stranger than what you heard last night. “Or overly unusual.”

  “Okay, Chica. I weel not open the door to no one, even if they say to me es okay, sí?” She was obviously completely unpersuaded by my nonexistent mind-meld skills. A pang of disappointment ran through me. Not having an arsenal of super new gifts was going to make it hard to navigate in the supernatural world, where power was a must. I was really hoping for persuasion; it would’ve been a great asset.

  James had finished propping the door into the opening and it looked fairly good at first glance, however, one push of a fingertip would likely topple it back into my apartment, but it would do for now. I’d put a call into Jeff, the super, as soon as I could. I had nothing to steal, as my apartment was bare, but allowing access to anyone who stopped by was tricky. If Juanita alerted me to anything suspicious, I might have an advantage.

  We were late.

  I quickly jotted my number on the piece of paper I’d brought out and handed it to her. “Remember, Juanita. It’s extremely important that you do not open your door for any reason. Are we clear?”

  “I weel no open, Chica. I weel keep watch with all my strength for you.” She leaned in to me one last time with a sly look. “But for my repayment, you weel need to come to my house to have a drink, sí? Juanita weel keep jour secrets for you, but in return you have to tell Juanita what es happening here in thees crazy place.” She shook her head at me. “Es too much. I worry for you.”

  Juanita was sharp as a tack and I admired her spunk. “Okay, Juanita, you have a deal.”

  I pulled into my office parking lot a few car lengths ahead of James. There were a ton of cars already in the lot. No one was waiting to jump me outside, so I figured my father had them under control. I parked and headed into my building. There was no need to wait for James with plenty of able-bodied wolves inside. A supe bent on attack, even if it was another rogue, would be foolish to come here. The smell outside was a swirling tide of male aggression.

  I pushed the doors to Hannon & Michaels open and Marcy strode toward me anxiously. “You’re late.” Her eyes gleamed with the sparkle of adventure, not a typical sight. Her signature scent of fresh lavender wafted up my nose, making me smile in spite of the situation.

  I glanced at the clock behind her desk. “You can barely call this late. I’m a little tardy.”

  Marcy raised her eyebrows in a manner indicating she pitied me immensely. “Everyone’s in the conference room, but there’s hardly any room left.” She took my arm, guiding me down the hallway at a brisk pace. “And in case you were wondering, I’ve already cast a spell around the perimeter of the building. It’s set to go off if any other supernaturals feel like crashing the party. Oh, and I also took it upon myself to jump-start the rumor mill. My aunt Tally, that crotchety old bitty, now thinks Callum McClain is hiring Hannon & Michaels to look into a murder investigation,” she whispered excitedly, despite the fact she just told me the whole supernatural community was already in on it.

  “You’ve had a busy morning.” I chuckled. “Good thinking on all counts.” We stopped in front of the conference room. “And, Marcy, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were enjoying yourself.” I leaned over and whispered, “And, honestly, it’s a good thing at least one of us is having fun. This may be the end of my life as we both know it. The chances of me coming out of this room alive are slim to none.”

  “Oh, please.” She swiped her arm in a dismissive gesture. “You’ll be fine, and for your information I haven’t enjoyed myself in years. Now get in there before the Alpha of the U.S. Northern Territories starts gouging holes in the furniture because his ungrateful daughter made him wait too long.”

  “I’ll admit to ‘overly harried’ or ‘exceptionally talented,’ but never ‘ungrateful.’ ” I gave her a wry smile.

  I opened the conference room door.

  A cloud of hostile testosterone engulfed me completely. The shroud of stale air saturated the room. How could they stand it? I’d taken one step inside but was forced to stop in my tracks in the middle of the open doorway. I had to mentally snatch my hands back before I placed them on the jambs to steady myself. I couldn’t afford to look weak. Instead, I dug my nails into my palms. Pain over asphyxiation. Nails in the palms were becoming my norm. The pain centered me, and lucky for me the room was crowded, so not all eyes found me immediately, mostly because they couldn’t see over the six-foot-plus wolves standing in my way.

  Marcy was still behind me. “Are you okay?” she whispered. When I didn’t respond she murmured, “Hold tight, I’ll be right back with some water.” She took off down the hallway.

  With as much composure as I could gather, I closed the door with a snap behind me. Keeping Marcy out of the volatile conference room was now a top priority. The water would have to wait. Agitated werewolves in a small space were not good for an
yone’s health, least of all my skinny, breakable friend. If the smells swirling around were any indication, we were just short of an all-out riot.

  As I stepped forward, the wolves in front of me parted slightly. I stopped a few paces in, meeting my father’s gaze across the conference table. He was seated at the head of the table, looking regal and completely in charge. My brother was on one side, Danny and Nick on the other. Since this meeting was specifically about me, and involved Hannon & Michaels, it looked like Nick would be included on the events. I was relieved.

  I ran a quick glance around the room, careful not to meet any direct gazes. The room contained every wolf I’d ever known, and many more I’d never met. They were keeping themselves in check for the time being. My father had called the cavalry in to settle important business. I wasn’t surprised he’d done it, since it was protocol when the Pack was in danger, but it was still shocking to see so many wolves gathered in one place.

  Our conference room at Hannon & Michaels was a fairly large space, but now it resembled a crowded subway car.

  Marcy had brought in extra chairs, but there weren’t enough. The wolves who ranked highest in status sat around the table. The rest lined the walls.

  My gaze settled back on my father. Wading through a sea of agitated werewolves didn’t seem like a very smart idea at the moment. They were bound by their Alpha’s orders right now, but I didn’t want to stir up a frenzy, so I gave my father a small nod to let him know I was good to go where I was, and he took the cue and slowly stood.

  His movements controlled the room. All eyes focused on him as he leaned forward, bracing his knuckles on the tabletop in front of him. He swept the room with a severe gaze, meeting each and every eye individually. It took a while, but the effect was clear. “This is my daughter, Jessica McClain.” My father’s voice rang out, calm and authoritative. “She has gone under the alias Molly Hannon and has been living in this city for the last seven years.” There was some murmuring. Many in the trusted inner circle had known, but for security reasons it hadn’t been common knowledge, so most of the wolves in the room had no idea. “A little over three days ago my daughter became a fullblooded werewolf.”