by D. Fischer
I watch his eyes retreat back to their normal color as he eases his grip, softly rubbing his thumb back and forth on my neck. Drifting his hand to my frightened face, he rubs the back of his fingers over my cheek.
“Better?” Evo asks.
I clear my throat, trying to get rid of the lump that has formed there. Grow some balls, Kenna, I scold myself.
Feeling his compassionate emotions run over my skin helps relax me. Rationality tells me that there is no reason to fear him when his emotions aren’t aggressive. When I feel I can respond, I say the first thing that pops out of my mouth. “What the fuck is going on?” I meant for it to come out with anger and aggression but instead, it comes out weak and pitchy.
A serious expression crosses his face and he lets his hand drop. “Why are you suppressing her, Kenna?”
I frown. Who am I suppressing? “What? That’s not what I asked, Evo; if that’s really your name. What am I doing here? Where is here? What is going on? Who are you?”
He sighs, resolved to the fact that I’m not going to answer his question just yet. Not that I have any idea what he is talking about.
“I’m still me. My name is still Evo Johnson. I brought you to my territory for your safety and protection. After I killed the vampire, I didn’t—”
I cut him off with my screech, “A vampire? That thing was a fucking vampire?”
He looks at me like I’m a frightened little bird, keeping his words and movements slow and reassuring to be sure I don’t fly off at the first sign of danger. “Yes. Red eyes, death stench, fangs, and all. That was a vampire and a new turn at that. Someone had sent him to kill you. That’s what most vampires do. They’re super-naturals for hire. If there’s blood involved, they couldn’t care less what crime they’re committing or whose life they’re ending. Tonight, that life was supposed to be yours.”
My hysterical laugh turns into a frown. “Let’s just say I believe that there are vampires roaming the streets and that they’re hirable criminals. What could someone possibly gain from taking me out? I haven’t exactly pissed in anyone’s Cheerios, lately.”
Evo’s eyebrows shoot up, like this should be an obvious answer.
I think about it for a minute and then sigh when it hits me. “Chris Kenner. He saw me as he was leaving the interrogation room, and now I’m investigating one of the women he most likely took. His emotions and state of mind weren’t exactly friendly toward me the other night. Damn it, I knew he had heard me from the observation room. Wait, so … does this make him a vampire, too? He wasn’t exactly all fangy. Shit! Is he drinking those missing women’s blood?”
“He’s not a vampire,” Evo says while taking a seat on the edge of his bed, watching my hysterics with interest.
“What is Kenner doing hiring a monster, then? I can’t imagine any human wanting to work with something that looked like that. Where would someone even find a vampire to hire? It’s not like they’re in the phonebook under blood sucking hitmen.”
Taking a few steps back, I sink into a plush reclining chair and put my head in my hands. Everything in his room is plush and expensive looking. If I were here under different circumstances, I’d be enjoying this extremely soft chair and most likely exploring his room.
I must be dreaming. Vampires aren’t real. Monsters aren’t real. And people, no matter how insane they are, don’t go out and hire creatures of the night to assassinate private investigators because they tattled on you for lying.
“Kenner is what I am. What you and I are.” Before I can demand that I am human and that he clearly isn’t, he continues quietly, “Kenna, do you know what you are?”
My head shoots up as I glare at him. “Are you from crazy town? I seem to be the only normal person around lately. I’m not losing my mind. You all are the crazy ones.” I fling my hand in the air. “It’s me who should be asking who you are!”
“That’s not what I asked. Listen to me.” He stands, the bed squeaking, and walks toward the chair, kneeling in front of me on his plush white carpet. I refuse to shrink back, even if this guy is just as much of a loon as I am starting to think he is. “Do you know what you are?”
I frown again. “Um … human? A little bitchy and possibly insane because I have to be stuck in some kind of nightmare right now, but yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m human,” I say as I pat myself down in a dramatic gesture.
His sympathy washes over my skin, causing me to bristle. Sympathy is never an emotion I like to feel coming from others. Especially if it is directed toward me. It makes me uncomfortable.
“So, I was right. You don’t know.” He stands up and runs a hand through his hair. I watch him walk the span of his room and then back again. Once he reaches me, he looks back into my eyes. “Do you remember what happened last night? That pain you felt?”
“Yes,” I nod with certainty, “it’s a frequent occurrence for me. They’re called panic attacks. Loads of people get them. You should research it.”
His jaw ticks at my flippant attitude. I square my shoulders, showing him just how crazy this all is and just how sane I am while surrounded by, what seems to be, a world full of ill-mannered fruit loops.
“No, Kenna. Those are not panic attacks. When I looked into your eyes before you fainted, I saw her staring back at me.”
Huh? Maybe I should find him a shrink of his own. “Come again?”
“You are not human, Kenna. You never have been. That gift you have? Where you can tell what others are feeling? That’s rare among your race … our race. That gift makes you a Queen.”
I laugh out loud. “A Queen? Of what? Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
He shakes his head. “You’re a wolf shifter. Like me. Like Kenner.”
I cock my head to the side. I must not have heard that right. “Wolf … shifter. Are you telling me that you … that I … am a werewolf?” I begin to hysterically laugh again. “Look, I think I’d be the first to know if my extra-curricular activities included howling at the moon.”
“Damn it, Kenna,” he growls. “You are unbelievably stubborn. This is not a game. This is not a trick. I’m telling you the damn truth! Will you stop being so ignorant and just feel what I’m feeling?”
My giggle fit subsides and I look at the angry, burly man in front of me. Feeling his waves of emotion reach me, I feel … a hint of lust, annoyance, and anger, and … truth. I gulp. “Shit.”
He nods, relieved that I am finally comprehending and moves to sit back on the couch.
I lean back in the chair, overwhelmed. “So … I’m part wolf, part human? No, wait. I was born a human but was infected or something and became part wolf?” Realization hits me. “Wait. I hate to burst your bubble, Evo, but I’ve never sprouted hair on my body, walked around on all fours, or held any fascination with the moon. I think you have it wrong—you’re wrong. You may believe you’re right, but you’re not. I’m human.”
“I’m not,” he states firmly.
“You are,” I counter.
His agitation is becoming smothering. “The panic –attacks—they aren’t panic attacks. I can understand how you might think so, but from first-hand experience here, that clawing sensation is actually your wolf fighting for the surface. Don’t you feel her inside you?” Giving me pause to let that sink in, he continues, “Being a wolf shifter doesn’t happen because you’ve been infected with some kind of virus. We’re born this way—an entirely different race. We aren’t werewolves—we’re not held by the moon and we don’t eat people every full moon because we can’t control our urges. Shifting happens at will. We co-exist with the animal inside us.” He shakes his head. “I’m not entirely sure how you survived this long and kept your sanity. I’m not even sure how you haven’t discovered what you are simply by accident. Do you feel something there? Like an extended presence?”
I reluctantly nod. I always thought I was insane. That something was wrong with me. It would fit if that meant my alter ego wasn’t some kind o
f defect with my brain, but instead, my wolf. A part of me desperately wants this to be true. That I am, in some way, normal to some corner of the world. If I am a wolf shifter, it means I belong somewhere.
I think about that. If wolves are born, then it would stand to reason that it’s genetic. I don’t have a clue who my parents are, so how could I possibly have known that she is actually my wolf. If I had no one there to guide me and say otherwise, how could I think differently?
When I was younger and in the foster system, I bounced around from family to family. When the first family thought I was crazy, they sent me to a shrink who agreed with them and gave me medicine hoping to correct it.
Most of the families didn’t like that they had to take me to see a shrink and make sure I took my pills. They always told me that it cost too much money or I took too much of their time away from the other foster kids. I never even got the chance to be adopted. No one wanted a kid who was an emotional mess.
With my gift, I spent a great deal of time trying to decipher between my own emotions, other people’s emotions, and her emotions. It was confusing as a child and I spent a great deal of time crying or being doused with medicine. When I was old enough, I decided to live on my own thinking it would be easier. It’s why I preferred to be alone. But ever since I can remember, I’ve been on those pills.
“For a long time now I’ve been taking pills for anxiety and migraines. I thought I was insane. I thought I had some kind of alter ego inside me, like multi-personality disorder or something. So, to counteract my crazy, I’ve been taking pills to cope.”
Evo growls at me and his eyes flash green.
Jumping, I switch my train of thought. “How do you do that? Why do your eyes glow green?”
“It can happen when your wolf lunges to the surface. I’ve seen you do it twice now.”
Surprised, I say, “Really? I’ve never seen my eyes do anything like that. When did you see them glow?”
“Once, after I killed the vampire, and another when I came through this door.” He points toward his bedroom door.
“Oh. Right. Okay.” I put that nugget of information to the side for further evaluation later. “Well, anyway, I take the pills, it knocks me out, and the pain and migraines are gone the next day. At least until I get worked up again. That would make sense. If I had a wolf inside me … It is inside me right?” At his nod, I continue, “Right, okay, so, with my wolf inside me, I can only imagine that she would want to surface, causing me to shift or whatever, so she can defend me, whether there is any real danger or not. Right?” I look at him for confirmation.
“Right.” Evo nods. “That’s perfectly normal. It’s part of their nature—to defend their human half when we aren’t capable or the threat is too great.”
“I always thought I was insane or something,” I mumble.
He smiles again, clearly satisfied that I am finally believing him. “What do you feel right now? Close your eyes and tell me what she’s feeling.”
I do as he asks simply because I am curious. “Protected. Curious. Possession.” I frown. “She feels possessive?” I question while opening my eyes to look at him, only to find his smile growing wider. “What? What does that mean?”
He coughs and scratches his eyebrow. I don’t need to feel his emotion to be able to tell this next topic is going to be an uncomfortable one. “Spit it out, Evo.”
“Wolves have mates.”
“Like friends? Or lovers? What kind of mates are we talking here?”
“Lovers. Wolves mate for life. There is only one other wolf shifter in the world that would be compatible with another. We think it all comes down to nature. One suits the other in order to have the best possible outcome for offspring.”
“That makes sense, I suppose. I’ve heard of some animals mating for life before. A little unfair that it’s not by choice, but it sounds slightly romantic, I suppose.”
Evo steeples his fingers under his chin and rests his elbows on his knees. “Once they find their mate, the female is able to have pups. The mating is on a mystical level. Once a mating bond is fully formed, the mated pair can feel what the other feels, have pups, even communicate telepathically if it’s a strong mated pair. Coupling with someone other than their mate won’t ever produce any of those things.”
“What does any of this have to do with my wolf,” that just feels weird to say out loud, “feeling possessive.”
“Mates recognize each other. Usually, it’s the wolves who recognize it first. Everything about the other is hypnotizing to them. Their scent, their looks, and their personality. It’s all attractive to them. When a wolf recognizes their mate, the urge to have sex is very strong because it would start the mating process.”
Impatient, I snip, “My light bulb still isn’t going off.
He sighs again. The man has the patience of a saint.
“My wolf also feels possessive. Possessive of you, Kenna.” He meets my eyes. “You’ve been the only thing on my mind since the police station. Your scent knocks me off my feet, your strength gives me pride, and my dreams have been extremely vivid. My wolf thinks of you as his.” When I don’t respond he says the three words I feared he would, “You’re my mate.”
Chapter Six
Makenna Goldwin
The birds are calming as I sit here staring at the edge of the pond that’s surrounded by forest. I had found it on Evo’s property. Birds and ducks decorate the pond’s surface and rocky shores. I perch on top of one of the large rocks, trying to use the stillness of the water to relax. It is quiet and peaceful—a perfect place to sit and mull over what I’ve just learned. A perfect spot to hide.
I had run from Evo’s room, catching glimpses of several people out on the property. They had stopped what they were doing and watched me as I fled into the forest behind Evo’s giant mansion. I didn’t know where I was going, but it didn’t matter at the time. When I ran from Evo’s room, through his living room and out the door, he didn’t try to stop me. For that, I was grateful. I needed to think through everything.
This is what I had feared all my adult life. This is what I don’t want and what I’ve completely avoided. While everyone around me is settling down, getting married, and having kids, I want nothing to do with it. I don’t want to have to rely on anyone and I surely don’t want to have anyone rely on me.
To be told I’m a part of a half wolf, half human species, with a destined mate to boot, I bolted. Predestined commitment for life sounds more frightening than the vampire assassin.
It’s not that I don’t feel the pull to Evo. I did from the very start. It is exactly as he described—very strong and all consuming. I know he feels the same because I can feel it. He finds me attractive and suitable, but does he find me attractive? My soul, or whatever? Or is this just nature and the predestined bond.
It’s one thing to be destined for someone else. It’s an entirely different circumstance if you tell that oblivious stranger that from this day forward, you will want me and only me, because that’s what I got out of it. How am I supposed to handle that on top of discovering I’m also a wolf shifter?
All my life, I never thought I was anything more than a human. A damaged human, but still a human nonetheless. Then along comes a creepy wolf-man who abducted people, a hot ex-FBI agent who also is a wolf, a serial killer assassin who does favors for blood, who are all a part of a supernatural world, and all of a sudden, I’m told I’m from this nightmarish reality.
If I hadn’t seen the evidence, I’d have Evo committed to the nutter house. Feeling the truth in his words had made it easier to accept. But do I really want this for myself? Do I plan to leave my human life and become mated to the man I left behind in the mansion? When I ran, I could feel his hurt at my rejection.
I couldn’t see myself wanting anyone else, though. I’ve never been so attracted to another man before. Sure, I’ve noticed when a hot guy has walked by. Even stolen my fair share of sneak peaks of a well-ro
unded male ass as a guy passed me. But this is something entirely different. This is entirely out of my control. I have no choice in the matter. It is like a prearranged marriage, but this time, Mother Nature is the one doing the arranging.
Every time he is around, I ache for him. Every part of my being aches for him. Even now as I sit here, I want to go back, because something inside of me feels like it is restless and disappointed. My wolf, I realize. She wants me to seek her mate. Our mate. She doesn’t approve of my reluctance.
I don’t know how intelligent my wolf is, but I’m gathering that she’s not seeing the bigger picture here. If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to give in and settle down, I want to do it because I want to. Not because nature told me so. If I’m going to spend the rest of my life with someone, I want to be actually be in love. I don’t feel that yet. Hell, I probably wouldn’t know what love is even if it smacked me in the face.
I’ve never had steady boyfriends. I have no idea what love is. I’ve never felt it and I’ve never had it given or directed toward me. Being able to feel his emotions, I know he doesn’t love me, either.
My wolf fills with anticipation from my thoughts. She wants me to give it a shot. Maybe she’s right.
I turn my head to the right as I hear soft footsteps headed in my direction. A dark-haired, well-built man—though not as well built as Evo—approaches me and sits down, crossing his arms over his knees to rest. I watch him until he speaks, knowing he means me no harm.
“You must be the Alpha’s mate. I’m Ben, Evo’s Beta. The Pack lives here on the territory, if you didn’t notice already.”
He is referring to when I fled and saw people milling about. At the time, I didn’t really wonder why there were people on his property, but I also didn’t know Evo was Alpha. That is a tiny shock to my system. I know what that means—he is responsible for everyone in the Pack. A Pack that lives on the property as well.
Ben holds out his hand for me to shake. I take it. “I hear Evo dropped a bomb on you this morning. How are you handling it?” I have no idea how to respond. My emotions are all over the place. I turn my gaze back to the pond instead.