by Beverly Rae
“I don’t believe I’ve ever had anyone ask for a reading where they actually hoped their future sugar-love would be a supernatural being.” Madame Medusala fingered a red flower, taking a moment to ponder their request. “Let’s get this straight. I’m not promising anything. It’s not like I can summon a man to you. I simply see the future and tell you what I see. Understood?”
Again the two bobbleheads agreed and Syd waited for the large woman to come to a decision.
At last, the medium threw up her hands. “Oh, what the hell. I’m game. Let’s give it a shot. Which lovely lady wants to go first?”
Syd opened her mouth to volunteer, but Charlie beat her to it.
“We’re doing this together.” Charlie the Defender was ready for action. “Definitely together. No ifs, ands, or buts, got it?”
Medusala tapped a manicured finger on her lips. “Well, I don’t normally do more than one person at a time.”
“This time you will. Or no deal.” Charlie held her hand up, silencing any possible disagreement from Syd. “I’m insisting on this and it’s my way or no way.”
Not wanting to argue with Charlie’s legendary stubborn streak, Syd agreed. Medusala furrowed her brow a moment, then brightened. “Very well. But I’ll still have to charge the cost of a private session for each of you.”
“Of course you do.”
If Medusala heard the cynicism in Charlie’s mutter, she didn’t let on. Instead, she waved for them to follow her down a narrow hallway covered with painted vines flowing toward the rear of the house. The medium stopped in front of a red door and pivoted to face them. “All right, ladies, I expect each of you to follow my directions to the letter. Do you agree?”
They voiced their assent and prepared to follow her into the room. Medusala placed her hand on the doorknob, then abruptly stopped. She turned to stare at Syd, confusion changing her happy demeanor into a dark countenance. “Are you very sure you want to do this?”
Caught off guard, Syd swallowed and had to force herself to reply. “Yes, I’m sure.” But the medium’s intense expression clinched at her heart. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m not sure.” Medusala shook her head and the furrow on her brow deepened. Her gaze bored into her, searching for an answer. “I’m getting the impression that finding your supernatural honey—if such a person exists—will cause a great rift in your family, a major change for all those concerned. For good or for bad, I can’t tell. Still, it’s not my decision, so if you’re sure…”
If what the psychic said was true, should she risk it? Would finding the right man be worth causing problems in her family? Even if the right man wasn’t a shifter, her father still wouldn’t approve of him unless he carried a shotgun loaded with silver bullets. Syd caught herself chewing on her bottom lip and stopped. No, she was determined to see this through. After all, she and her father already had a strained relationship. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Medusala’s cheerful attitude returned and they followed her into a windowless room slightly larger than the average kitchen. Posters decorated the yellow walls and a pretty table inlaid with colorful tiles rested in the middle of the room. A disco ball glowed on the table, casting sparkling images on the walls around it.
“Disco fever, anyone?” Charlie touched the shiny globe before taking a seat in one of the two wrought-iron chairs at the table. “Are you planning on talking to John Travolta? Because if you are, you’re in for a surprise. He’s not dead. Although he did come back from a dead career.”
Syd pushed at Charlie’s arm, then moved to stand behind her. “You are so funny. Now behave.” She waved off the chair Medusala offered her. “I’d rather stand, thanks.” She didn’t feel the need to add that she was too nervous to sit.
“Forget the disco ball. What about these posters of movie stars? There’s Johnny Depp, Sean Connery, Orlando Bloom, and—”
“Oprah. Cher. And Bernadette Peters.” Syd couldn’t help but add her own wonderment.
Medusala ran a hand lovingly over Johnny’s picture. “What can I say? I like to have my favorite gals and pals around me when I’m working.” She slid into the chair across the table from Charlie. “Don’t you just love Orlando? And Johnny is to die—”
“Could we get on with this? How do we start?” Syd took a couple of deep breaths to calm the jitters running rampant inside her.
At first, Medusala appeared irritated, but quickly went into psychic mode. “First, we summon the universe around us, the spirits who help me see into the future. Once we have their attention, we’ll see what they have to say.” She flicked a switch on the base of the disco ball and sat back. The ball began spinning faster, flashing lights in a daze of colored hues around the room. “Relax, be quiet, and wait.”
Medusala placed her palms an inch above the ball. Her eyelids fluttered until coming to rest on her cheeks. “Close your eyes and listen.” Tucking her chin, she started mumbling.
Together, Syd and Charlie leaned closer, trying to hear. After a few minutes, her mumbled chanting grew more forceful until, at last, they could understand the words.
“Oh, Great Spirits. Come to us. We beseech you. These ladies need answers to life’s questions. They call to you now. Come to them. Answer their prayers. Answer their desires. Tell them what their futures hold.”
“Oh, brother.”
Keeping her eyes closed, Syd poked Charlie in the back and hissed, “Shush.”
“Tell us, Great Spirits, about the future. If it’s in the here-to-come, tell us about the lovers who await them. Tell us who will love them.”
“Shit. Do we sound pathetic or what?”
Again Syd poked her friend.
“Tell them, ladies. Tell the Great Spirits to answer the questions in your minds. Ask not with your voices, but with your minds. With your hearts. With your very souls.”
Syd squeezed her eyes even more tightly closed and concentrated on imagining the man of her dreams. Having dreamed of him for years, she quickly brought up his image.
Long dark hair accented with one white streak flowed down to his broad shoulders. He stood naked from the waist up and his skin shimmered, giving her the impression of a body in motion. A mountain-wide chest tapered to an abdomen boasting ripple after ripple of toned lean stomach. A short scar traveled along his square jaw, a scar some might find unsightly, but which sent a shiver of lust through her. A sharp nose kept his sensual lips from seeming feminine, but his eyes were what snared Syd. Dark laughing eyes captured her, taunting her with an unknown dare. She focused harder on him. His eyes changed, lightening until black morphed into milk chocolate brown. Sparkles of gold entered the slanted eyes, coloring the brown until, finally, amber eyes watched her. With a smirk of a smile playing on his lips, he lifted his head, winked and…howled. He continued to howl as his body changed, lowering itself until, at last, the man was gone and a glorious black wolf stood in his place.
Syd gasped, her heart pounding at an alarming rate. Heat rushed through her and sweat ran down the nape of her neck to flow along the curve of her spine. Suddenly, the air in the room grew staler, suffocating her. She struggled to breathe. She sensed, more than felt, the world spin and she reached out for anything, anyone to steady her. Her last thought was an urgent plea to stay with him, locked in their dream world, but nothing could stop the blackness.
“Syd? Are you okay?”
Charlie’s anxious voice leaked into her confused mind, but she couldn’t force her eyes open.
“I told you. You overdid it in your workout today. I knew we shouldn’t have come.”
Charlie’s words were angry, yet Syd could hear the worry hiding behind the anger.
“Sydney, listen to me. You’d better open your eyes right now or I’m calling nine-one-one.”
Charlie’s threat laced into her semi-consciousness.
“I mean it, Syd. Stop scaring me.”
“Look, I want to make myself perfectly clear. I’m not
responsible for her collapsing. I didn’t do anything wrong.” Medusala’s voice sounded farther away, but deeper, thicker. “Like you said, she overdid it at her workout.”
As though awakening from a long, hard sleep, Syd forced her eyelids open to find her friend leaning over her. She shivered, bewilderment keeping her thinking fuzzy, and felt the cold tile floor against her back. A very different, serious Medusala stood in a corner, hands fisted on her hips and a defiant expression on her features. She looks like the Jolly Green Giant in drag. “What happened?”
Relief flooded the face above her.
“I guess you fainted.” Charlie rubbed Syd’s arms. “If I hadn’t been peeking the whole time, I wouldn’t have caught you. Good thing I can move fast, too. Otherwise, you’d have cracked that thick skull of yours big time.”
“I fainted?” Somehow she thought fainting didn’t cover what she’d experienced. She’d seen him more clearly than ever before. She’d sensed him, felt him, cried for him.
“You fainted right after—”
Charlie’s fist slamming down on Medusala’s foot cut the psychic’s sentence off.
“Ow! Why did you hit me?”
“Close your mouth and stay quiet. You’ve caused enough trouble.” Charlie thinned her lips in an unmistakable warning.
Syd’s internal alarms went off at the silent exchange between the two women. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”
Medusala flashed an I’m-glad-you’re-okay smile. But the smile quickly turned into a challenging snarl at Charlie. “I don’t know why she doesn’t want you to know.”
“Look, you big lug, I’m warning you. Shut up.”
“Why? I think she should know. Maybe she can tell us why she did it.” Ignoring Charlie’s glare, she kept her attention on Syd. “You did something very odd just before you fainted.”
Syd didn’t appreciate the medium’s dramatic pause. “Well? What? Damn it, quit playing drama queen and tell me.”
A quick giggle slipped out before Medusala could stifle it. Under control again and looking serious, she said, “Sweetie…you howled.”
The shock gave Syd the necessary jolt of energy she needed to sit up. “I howled? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.” Charlie sent one last frown at the psychic and nodded.
“Why would I howl?” You know why. Syd lowered her eyes. Because I’m dreaming about a shifter. One of the monsters my father hunts.
“We thought maybe you could tell us.” Charlie bent her head and tried to meet Syd’s downcast eyes, but Syd darted her gaze away.
“Exactly what I said.” Medusala let out a low whistle of relief. “Nonetheless, I don’t know what happened or why. Of course, your fainting had nothing to do with anything I did or said, I’m sure. But I’m going to have to ask you ladies to leave.”
Charlie helped Syd to her feet and guided her toward the front door.
“No charge for the session. I don’t want any problems and I have a performance I need to get ready for.” Medusala stuck out her chest. “I’m headlining at Boys’ Toys tonight. I’d invite you ladies to catch the show, but under the circumstances…”
Charlie looked back over her shoulder at Medusala. “Omigod. You’re headlining? But Boys’ Toys is a drag queen bar.”
Medusala threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, you are precious.” She shook her large breasts. “You didn’t think these heffers were real, did you?” At Charlie’s stunned expression, she directed them to the front door with a flourish of one hand. “Besides, I told you, didn’t I? I know men like you wouldn’t believe.”
Chapter Two
Benjy whipped out a cosmetic mirror and checked his reflection. “Jason, dog, what’s up with you? You’ve been in a foul mood all day.”
Jason groaned every time he thought about last night. The girl he’d hooked up with had barfed all over his bed. He’d cleaned her up and gotten her home safe and sound, but the bar thing was getting old. Besides, he was fed up with those when-will-you-stop-bringing-home-a-bimbo scowls from the maid. Maybe he should sell his condo and retire to his pack home in the mountains—with or without a mate.
Not for the first time, he wondered what it would be like to have a permanent woman, his destined mate, in his life. The one who could talk to him, laugh with him—and give him a wild ride in bed. He let his mind wander to the curly-headed woman of his dreams and knew with absolute certainty he’d recognize her when they met. But with the pack’s personal fitness business finally taking off, who had the time to search for Ms. Right?
“When are you going to admit you prefer me over some miniskirt-wearing, silicone-injected bitch?” Benjy sidled closer.
Jason shoved him away. “For the zillionth time, knock it off. I’m straight. I’ve always been straight and I’ll always be straight. And even if I were gay, I wouldn’t want your meatless butt.” Annoyed when two men coming out of the gym snickered, he gagged on his coffee. “Damn it, man, if you weren’t the best accountant the pack has, I’d wrap a choke collar around your neck so tight you’d have to breathe through your ass.”
“Oooh, goody.” Benjy ran his eyes down his frame. “You like it rough, huh, Jay-Jay?”
“I promise you, you shit, if you don’t at least try to act normal, I’m going to tear your heart out.”
“Gay is normal, you politically incorrect beast.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Idiot here.” Yet when Benjy tried to hug him in a gesture of forgiveness, he jumped out of reach. “But you know what I mean. And don’t call me Jay-Jay.”
“What you mean is…you want me to act like a straight man, right? Okay, if that’s what my hunky macho leader wants, that’s what my hunky macho leader gets.” Benjy pulled his tangerine polo shirt out of his perfectly ironed khakis, ruffled his hair, and slouched. Shoving his thumbs into his pockets, he sauntered ahead of Jason and deepened his voice. “How’s this, dude?”
Jason laughed and followed his friend through the automatic sliding doors of the gym. “You’re acting like John Wayne on hormone replacement therapy. Yet, as sad as your act is, it’s still an improvement. Keep it up.”
“Urgh, you beast.” Benjy rolled his eyes, returned to his usual perfectly put-together self and let Jason lead the way to the office. They quickly located the gym’s newest manager.
“Steve Wilson? I’m Jason Cannon and this is Benjy Boudoir. Welcome to the company. I believe the previous manager, Rob Manger, told you we’d be stopping by? I’m sorry we couldn’t get here any sooner, but Rob was confident that you could hold down the fort for a couple of months.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Manger told me.” Steve offered his hand to first Jason, then Benjy. “I’m very happy to be one of the team.”
After shaking hands, they followed Steve into the office.
Steve took a seat in front of a computer resting on a mahogany desk and pulled up the gym’s financial records. “Before he left, Mr. Manger filled me in on what reports you’d need. I compiled everything into this software for easier viewing.” Spinning around to face them, he frowned, the lines furrowing his forehead making the twenty-five year-old appear ten years older. “I keep an excellent record of all transactions.”
Jason patted him on the shoulder, both to reassure him and to nudge him out of the chair. He motioned to Benjy to take his place. “I’m sure you do. This is simply a routine check and nothing for you to worry about.” He studied the data and searched for his favorite project. “I see the gym’s customers donated two thousand dollars to the Help-A-Child organization. Good going, Steve.”
Benjy started tapping away. “I assume you want the same amount donated from your personal account, right?”
“Yes.” Jason frowned at the screen. “No. Make it double, Benjy. And let’s come up with a new campaign to get even more donations. Maybe a free month’s membership with each hundred dollars donated?”
“I’m on it.” Benjy’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “Now if you two will excuse me, I’ll put on
my accountant’s hat and play with some numbers. Although I’d much rather play with somebody else’s numbers.” He winked at Steve, causing the young man to stumble sideways in his haste to put distance between them.
“Uh, would you like to look around while Mr. Boudoir goes over the records?” Steve moved toward the door, ready, willing and obviously anxious to get away from Benjy.
“Benj, you can handle things by yourself, right?”
“But of course, Jay—” Jason’s sharp glare transformed the second “Jay” about to escape Benjy’s mouth. “Uh, boss man. No problem.”
Jason gestured for Steve to exit first. “Lead the way.” He followed the eager manager around the outskirts of the workout area, letting him drone on about the new equipment. But his mind couldn’t concentrate on the young man’s words. Instead, his thoughts kept drifting to last night’s dream. Clearer than ever before, he’d seen a picture-perfect image of the woman with brown hair with red highlights. What’s more, he’d heard her howl—hearing the call within his heart along with his dream, and he knew what it meant. His mate was close.
“Sir, we’re coming around to the treadmill area. From there, would you like me to show you the juice bar? Our profits have increased substantially since it opened. Sir?”
Jason forced his attention to the business at hand. “Oh. Sure. Good. Glad to hear it. You’ve made a lot of improvements in a very short time.”
“I’m glad you approve.” Steve grinned and continued toward the treadmills. “We’ve added several rows of treadmills because those are our most popular machines. They’re the best in the industry with programmable settings…”
Jason stopped behind one of the whirring machines, missing the rest of the manager’s description. A woman clad in black bike shorts and a neon pink workout top ran on the belt, her short curly hair glinting copper fire from the bright lights above her. He tilted his head to one side and examined the full roundness of her bottom. Now there’s a target any man would want to aim his shaft at. I do like the junk in her trunk.