by Vella Day
“I’ll break,” Rye said. “Unless you want the honors?”
She’d much rather watch his tight ass bend over the table than make a fool of herself anytime. “Have at it.” After taking aim, Rye pulled back the cue and then jammed it forward, his muscles flexing. The cue ball hit the stack and sent them scrambling. “Wow.”
He smiled then immediately refocused. This was a different side of the man—driven to succeed—and she liked that.
“Looks like I have stripes, so you get solids,” he said.
Because a few of his balls had fallen into the pockets, Rye took the next shot. After chalking his cue, he lined up his stick. Smack. Pop. Drop. Izzy clapped. “Nice job.”
“Thank you.” He studied his shots. With a light tap, the white ball hit a striped one, but the ball clipped the corner and bounced off. “Your turn.”
Izzy wasn’t normally giddy, but the challenge excited her. Perhaps there was more to pool than she had thought. “Hmm. Which one should I try for?”
“I thought you didn’t want to cheat.”
She opened her mouth. “It’s not cheating if I request some help.”
He grinned, acting as if he’d been waiting for her to ask. “Okay, then. Let’s try to sink the number three ball into this side pocket.”
She knew the fundamentals of angle of incident equaling angle of reflection—or something along that line—but that didn’t mean she could put the ball where she aimed. After walking around the table, she leaned over to take her shot.
“Wait,” Rye said. He came up behind her and slid his hands down to her wrists, his face inches from hers. His groin was snug against her ass, and it was clear she wasn’t the only one turned on.
She was tempted to turn her head and kiss him just to see his reaction, but of course, she wouldn’t. What she really wanted to do was grind herself against him and then have everyone in the bar disappear so they could make love on the pool table.
Stop fantasizing. She couldn’t help it since him being so close messed with her entire electrical makeup. Izzy stood still, took a deep breath, and rotated her fingers on top of the cue stick. “Like this?”
He adjusted her hands. “More like this. Now choke up on the stick then aim right here, but don’t hit it too hard. You don’t want to sink the cue ball.”
Choke up. Aim here. Don’t hit it hard. Sheesh. He’d be better off teaching her how to ride a motorcycle or something. “Okay. I got this.” Rye stepped back, but his presence was affecting her ability to concentrate. Trying to do as he instructed, she slid the stick back, and the end of the stick rammed into him.
“Whoa,” Rye said, as he whipped the cue stick right out of her hands.
She spun around, her gaze going straight between his legs. “Where did I hit you?”
“In the worst place possible.”
Oh, no. Heat raced up her face. The devil in her wanted to ask if she could rub it and make it better, but she didn’t want to scare the poor man away. “Sorry. Maybe you should stand on the other side.”
“Good idea.” He croaked out a response, but when he grinned, she figured he hadn’t been hit that hard. Rye handed her back the cue then moved across from her. “Give it your best shot.”
Wanting to make him proud after that fiasco, she closed her eyes to imagine the trajectory then struck the ball. Click, clack, thunk.
“You did it!” Rye sounded truly happy for her. He trotted back her side of the table and slapped her palm in victory.
As much as she enjoyed the little celebration, what she really wanted to do was throw herself in his arms. After the ice between them was broken, they just had fun. Rye was great about helping her, but in the end, he sunk the black ball to end the game.
The music was going full blast, and while she enjoyed the tunes, a lot of people had come in and the place was becoming rather stuffy.
“You want to head back?” he asked, undoing the top button of his shirt.
“Sure. The noise is making it hard to talk.”
They put their cue sticks up, found Molly, and asked for the bill. “I’ll pay at the bar,” he told his cousin.
“Works for me. Just leave a big tip.”
Rye laughed. “Don’t I always?”
“I guess.” His cousin grinned. “I’ll see you around, Izzy.”
“For sure.” It was good to be back among old friends. Izzy had been only a year ahead of Molly in school, but they’d enjoyed many of the same activities during that time.
Rye waved down his brother Finn and paid his tab. “Let’s get out of here.”
Because a group was on the dance floor, Rye placed his hands on her waist and guided her outside. Once in the fresh air, she inhaled the sweet scent. “It was a bit stuffy in there.”
“It was.”
After he made sure she was safely strapped in his SUV, he took off toward Wendaya Cove. She tried to imagine what the next few minutes might bring—and what she wanted them to be like. Izzy was tempted to ask him inside for a drink, but if he turned her down, she’d be upset. It wouldn’t matter if he claimed he had Clan business to take care of. It would be best to let him take the lead. After all, he had asked her out.
The drive home seemed to take only seconds. Rye pulled into her driveway, and after he cut the engine, hope surged. He slipped out of the vehicle, and then came around and opened her door. While she was capable of opening it herself, she was a bit old fashioned and appreciated the chivalry.
“Thanks for dinner and pool,” she said. “I never realized how much fun it could be.”
He smiled. “We’ll have to do it again.”
Yes! “I’d like that.”
By the time they reached the front door, her pulse was pounding. She was twenty-seven and anything but a virgin, yet here she was as nervous as a teenager on her first date.
He moved in close, and when he lifted her chin, her heart nearly jumped out of her chest. “I want to see more of you, Izzy.”
Her knees almost gave way. If she thought he wouldn’t freak, she’d take her top off right there to show him more. “I’d like to see more of you too.” Especially after what I felt pressed against me at the bar.
He leaned over, wrapped an arm around her waist, and kissed her, instantly melting her heart. His lips were soft and full, and the contact had just the right amount of pressure. As if her arms had a will of their own, she wrapped them around his neck. Wanting, or rather needing more, she opened her mouth to invite him in. Rye groaned and swept his tongue inside, tasting like hops and smelling like the outdoors. Pulses of erotic need raced up her arms. If her eyes hadn’t been closed, she would have noticed the blue glow. As she leaned into him, Rye broke the kiss.
“If I don’t stop,” he said, “I might have to invite myself in, and I think you’ve had enough of me for one night.”
No, she hadn’t, but his sincerity thrilled her. “Again, thank you.”
“Make certain to stay safe. Always be aware of your surroundings.”
What was that supposed to mean? Izzy could have told him that no one could harm her as her powers were, well, powerful, but she figured it was best to keep quiet. No need to let her protector know that she could probably take care of him.
Taking a few steps backward, he kept his gaze on her until he spun around then dashed to his car. His reactions always seemed so inconsistent, but perhaps that was what made him so interesting. When she told Missy and Teagan about her date, perhaps they could help her decipher the Ryerson McKinnon puzzle.
*
As much as Rye had wanted to ravish Izzy, what he’d said to her was the truth. That kiss had set his body on fire, and if he hadn’t stopped, no telling what he might have done. He’d spotted her blue essence, convinced she wanted him also, but it was too soon. It was better to give her time to think things through. Rushing her could end in disaster.
Just short of gunning the engine, he pulled onto the road and headed east toward the lake, his mind reliving every delicious
touch and smell of Isadora Berta. She was perfect. While she was a great sport at pool, especially since she tried so hard at improving her game, her aim sucked. He could see many lessons in her future.
Rye was halfway to the compound when his headlights shone on a car stranded in the road. The sedan had its emergency lights flashing, and while he didn’t recognize the silver Toyota, he slowed, hoping he could be of some help.
Pulling off to the side, he put his SUV in park and slipped out. As he approached the vehicle, he sensed a shifter and looked around for the owner. Despite his excellent eyesight at night and heightened sense of smell, he didn’t see him or her.
“Hello?” Rye called, but he received no answer. Hoping the person hadn’t passed out in the car, he edged his way toward the vehicle.
He was so focused on trying to find the driver that the crunching of a stone right behind him took a second to sink in. Rye was only able to turn partially around when sharp nails dug deep into his back, sending streaks of pain to his brain. What the hell? Rye twisted to return the attack, but a knife to his gut ended his ability to fight effectively. As much as he wanted to shift, his body gave way, and he dropped to his knees.
The masked attacker darted over to his car, and as he pulled open the door, he turned to face him. “That was your one and only warning.”
Rye’s vision swam and he concentrated on shifting, but he was too weak. Gravel flew through the air, followed by the stench of burnt rubber. Motherfucker.
Get help.
Rye couldn’t tell if he’d thought that to himself or if someone had spoken to him, but it sounded like good advice. His first thought was to head back to Izzy’s, but his house was closer—assuming he could keep from passing out while driving.
Kalan would be working, and unless Connor, his brother, was out on a surveillance job, he should be home. Using every ounce of effort, Rye called him.
“What’s up? I thought you said you were taking Izzy out tonight.”
Izzy. Yes, he should still be with her, but he wasn’t.
“Rye?”
“Someone stabbed me.” He barely choked out the words.
“What? Where are you?”
Rye’s mind muddled. He really needed to shift. It was the only way not to bleed out, but he couldn’t focus enough to do so. Connor had asked him something. Oh, yeah. Where was he? Damned if he could remember the name of the road. “Just left Izzy’s…”
“Hang on, I’ll be right there.”
Before he could tell his brother he could make it home on his own, Connor disconnected. What had he been thinking? Rye didn’t need anyone to rescue him. He was the Clan’s future Alpha. He tried to stand, but his head swam and he lowered himself back to his knees. Fuck. Humiliation shot some adrenaline through his system, and he managed to crawl on all fours to his Ford. Being this low to the ground as a wolf didn’t bother him, but the position as a human sucked. With dogged determination, Rye reached his car. Drawing on all his strength, he dragged himself onto the driver’s seat.
Finding his keys took some doing, as did getting the stupid key in the ignition, but he was finally able to start the car. When Connor didn’t find him on the road, he would head on over to Rye’s house. It couldn’t be more than two miles. He could make it that far.
The first mile Rye drove slowly, working hard not to pass out. His shirt and pants leg were soaked with blood from the stab wound. The gashes on his back didn’t appear to be critical, unless they became infected. As hard as he tried to hold onto the wheel, his vision kept blurring.
“Naliana, I could use a bit of help here.”
Rye didn’t really expect her to answer. She wasn’t known for being a Good Samaritan in the truest sense, but it was worth a try.
His eyes suddenly rolled back in his head, and he jerked to stay alert, but the front tires had a mind of their own. The car rolled off the pavement and onto the berm. As if some invisible force grabbed the wheel right out of his hands, the vehicle careened to the right. He blinked, barely registering that he was heading toward a tree. A second later, the airbag exploded into his face and the vehicle slammed into a hard object before coming to a stop.
Chapter Five
‡
“Rye, can you hear me?” came a voice from above.
Rye must have passed out. Someone was calling to him, but he couldn’t quite identify the familiar sounding voice as severe pain stabbed through his gut. It felt like someone was pressing on his mid-section, making it hard to breathe.
“You need to shift, buddy.”
Buddy? That had to be Connor. His brother was the only one who called him that. Why did he need to shift? One more push and the rush of blood finally reached his brain, enough for him to open his eyes.
“That’s it. Shift. Izzy’s in trouble,” his brother said.
Izzy was in trouble? His protective instinct immediately took over, blocking out all other thoughts and propelling him into fight mode. As his bones cracked and his fur flew, his vision turned white hot from pain. Someone must have set him on fire because everything hurt. Once in his wolf form, he tried to go to her, but Connor held him down.
Rye growled and bared his teeth.
“Stop moving. You’re injured. Izzy’s not in trouble. I lied to get you to shift. That stab wound is deep and the gashes on your back are almost as bad. Lie still and let me wrap your gut.”
While Rye understood each of the words, they weren’t making any sense as he could only focus on the fact that Izzy wasn’t in trouble. The words stab wound jarred his memory. He’d been taken by surprise. Damn. Because it took too much energy to stay awake, he closed his eyes and let Connor do his thing. Somehow, his brother had managed to get him home.
A hand shook him. “Rye, wake up.”
He wanted to stay asleep, but he cracked open an eye once more. Connor was standing over him again. “Missy’s here to do some healing with you.”
He was about to ask why when a wave of pain washed over him, but this time it wasn’t as bad. Only then did he realize he was in his wolf form, and Missy was staring at him. Well, shit. He wanted to ask her not to mention this to her sister, as Izzy would think he wasn’t worth much if he couldn’t even sense someone sneaking up behind and clawing him, but he wasn’t about to shift back into his human form just to ask her. Wendayan or not, she was a human and would probably freak if she saw a naked man that she didn’t know very well.
Missy moved toward him with a burlap bag in her hand that smelled of cinnamon, cloves, and some other spices he couldn’t identify.
“I’m going to put this under your head,” she said. “It should help with the pain.”
While his head pounded from a migraine, it was his back that stung and his gut that was cramping. Given that he had very little strength, he was willing to try anything that might help.
Missy placed the soft sack under his neck, and then walked back to the table. With interest, he watched her light candles and then place what looked like leaves in a glass. What that would do he had no idea, but soon she began her chant and waved several crystals around. Within minutes, the ache in his stomach eased. Hmm. Perhaps there was more to this Wendayan stuff than he’d always believed.
After another fifteen minutes of doing spells, candle lighting, and crystal waving, Missy packed up, leaving the candles glowing. “Rye needs to rest,” she told Connor. “By tomorrow, he should be feeling like his old self.”
That was great news. Connor walked her out and then returned a minute later. “Since you aren’t going to die on me, I’m going to head on home, buddy. You rest until tomorrow, but call if you need me.” He blew out the candles and disappeared.
Rye actually obeyed and remained in his shifted form. Since the pain was lessening with each minute, he fell into a sound sleep and woke the next morning feeling refreshed. After shifting back into his human form, he headed toward his bedroom. As he passed his phone sitting on the table, he swiped it and saw a message from Kalan stating he’d
be over a little after noon. To his surprise, it was already close to that now. Since Rye had slept so much, his wounds must have been rather serious.
In the bathroom mirror, Rye checked out his injuries. The scratches, or rather gouges, on his back seemed to have healed quite well, and even the wound on his stomach had completely closed up, though it was a bit tender. He couldn’t imagine how humans survived without being able to shift in order to rejuvenate. He never would have needed Missy’s help in the first place if he hadn’t lost so much blood from the sneak attack. Somehow, his healing genes hadn’t kicked in until after Connor was able to convince him to shift.
Needing to clean up, Rye hopped in the shower and watched the caked blood rinse down the drain. He lifted his arms to test if there had been any permanent damage, and found he had full range of motion with no pain. After further inspection, he deemed himself healed.
Starving, he washed quickly, dried off, and then dressed. As he finished fixing a ham and cheese sandwich, someone knocked on the door then pushed it open. After closing the door behind him, Kalan entered the kitchen area. “Hey, you’re alive.”
“Am now.”
“Last time I saw you, you were in pretty bad shape.”
“When were you here?” He didn’t remember the visit.
“Connor called me as soon as he brought you home, and I came over. I stayed about an hour but then had to go back to work.”
“I appreciate you stopping by.”
Kalan sat at the counter and grabbed half the sandwich Rye had just made. “Watch it,” Rye said, though he wasn’t angry.
“Now that you appear to be coherent, tell me exactly what you remember. Connor told me something, but I want to hear it from you.”
Rye explained how he was coming from Izzy’s when he stopped to help what he thought was a stranded motorist. “It was a set-up, though how my assailant knew I’d be coming down Riverside Drive is anyone’s guess.” He explained that he’d left McKinnon’s around nine and driven Izzy straight home.
“He could have followed you from the bar.”
Rye stilled, remembering the sensation of knowing a werewolf was near, but not being able to identify him. Now he wished he’d paid better attention. “It’s possible.”