By
T. Lynne Tolles
Troll Publishing
Version 8.0BN
Copyright © 2010 BLOOD OF A WEREWOLF
by T. Lynne Tolles
ISBN 294-0-0118538-0-7
Website
All Rights reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews, is illegal and punishable by law
Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, locals or events is coincidental.
T. Lynne Tolles
Edited by Erin Potter of Shamrock Editing
Dedication
I would like to dedicate this book to my beautiful daughter. Life isn’t always what you expect it to be, but some of the surprises it hands you make it all worthwhile. If asked, most adults will tell you, their teen years were mostly awkward and humiliating. As I watch my daughter make her way through her teens I am amazed and bewildered by her grace and compassion. She maneuvers through the trials and tribulations as if carefully stepping over hand-blown glass statues, always lending a helping hand to another stumbling teen whether they deserve it or not. I am in awe of all that you do, Kayla. Thank you for blessing my life with your presence. I love you.
Chapter 1
Darby O’Rielly had to peel her sweaty legs from the seat, feeling much like a fruit roll-up when she got out of her car. It had been one hundred and one degrees that day, which is unusually hot for being so close to the coast in the San Francisco bay area. The great thing about living in the bay area on hot days such as this, is that nine times out of ten, the breeze off the bay will kick up in the evenings and cool everything down. This evening was no exception.
The sun had not set just yet, as Darby went up the porch steps of the cute little bungalow, pulling out her keys. It was an older craftsman style house with a deep porch for sitting away the long summer evenings. It was painted a deep gray-blue, trimmed in white, with a deep burgundy colored door and river rock wainscoting. She and her sister, Rowan, had inherited the house from their parents when they died a few years before. Darby unlocked the door, went into the house, and put her keys and purse down on a little table that housed a lamp and the answering machine. She hit the blinking button on the machine and headed down the hallway, shedding clothes as she headed to her bedroom.
The first message was from Rowan, begging Darby to meet her at Paddy’s, a local pub a few blocks away. As if the voice on the recording could hear her, Darby replied to it, “Sure, meet you at Paddy’s so you can stand me up again, as usual. HA!”
She pulled a pair of cut-offs out of the laundry basket when the second message started. It, too, was from Rowan who seemed to have anticipated Darby’s reluctance. “I promise I’ll be there this time. Please! Please! Please!”
Darby yelled down the hall at the voice on the machine, “Yeah! Yeah!”
She came back out to the living room dressed in cut-offs and a tank top. She hit the ‘on’ button of the stereo, and grabbed its remote, which she shoved into her back pocket as she headed for the front yard. It had been awfully hot that day and she felt a couple of the plants could use an extra drink of water. A commercial was playing on the stereo as she unwound the hose and turned on the water. Once the water was on, she headed for some droopy plants. The water felt great on her toes in the grass. If she made a puddle around her feet, she could even squish a little mud through her toes. She stood there watering, enjoying the coolness, when the Modern English song “I’ll Stop The World and Melt With You” came on. It was such a great song and so appropriate for a hot day.
As she stood there watering, feet in the cool grass, the song just took over her. She started humming as she continued to water the poor, neglected hydrangeas. As the song progressed, her head started bouncing to the beat. Before long, her hips started getting in on the tune. By the time the bridge of the song came around, she was dancing full out right there on the lawn. She sprayed the water straight up and started twirling. The sparkle of the water against the purple and orange sky was stunning. The cool water raining down on her was such a relief from the heat and stress of the day. She even tried to spell her name out in water like you would with a sparkler on the 4th of July. The feeling was glorious, a sense of sweet release. She felt like a little girl, singing and dancing and spinning with water falling down all around her.
Exhilarated and smiling as the song started to come to an end, she spun towards the house next door, only to notice someone on the front porch watching her display of adolescence. She stopped immediately, pulled the remote out of her pocket, and turned down the music. She had gotten so caught up in the music and the rapture of the moment that she hadn’t noticed anyone or anything. How long had he been standing there? That house hasn’t been rented for months, she thought to herself, yet there he had been with his hands folded across his chest, watching. To make things worse, now he was clapping.
Horribly embarrassed, she spun on her heels, ran to the spigot, and turned off the water. Without winding up the hose, she ran up the porch steps and into the house and shut the door. She stood there with her back against the door for a second and shook her head, as if to shake off the embarrassment. It seemed to work a bit, so she headed for the shower.
She set the water to be refreshingly chilly. She stood there under the cool water as it sheeted down on her and she thought of the man on the porch again. It had started to get dark and she did not get a very good look at him. All she could tell was that he was rather tall, dark haired, with a handsome, almost devilish, smile. He was dressed in a black T-shirt and black jeans, but aside from that, she could not tell much more. After thinking about it, she realized that the clapping was not at all condescending or rude; it seemed as if he had genuinely enjoyed her performance.
I wonder when he moved in? she thought to herself. He’s probably married to some gorgeous woman and has three kids, or he’s a flake, who can’t commit or keep a job.
With that, she pushed him out of her mind and thought of Rowan’s messages. I should probably go to meet her. I haven’t seen her in days; besides, it’s Friday and it’s too hot to cook. So it was decided, she would go to Paddy’s and probably get stood up again, but at least she’d get a meal out of it.
As she started to dress, a huge black and white fur ball did a figure eight around her legs. He jumped on the bed hoping for some more attention.
“Hey, Harry, how was your day?” Darby asked. With a very loud purr, he answered. He arched his back to meet her hand as she stroked him. All of a sudden, he fell to his side for some belly rubs. When she attempted to finish dressing, Harry reached out his huge paw and snagged the spaghetti straps of her top, as she tried to put it on.
Harry was an unusually large cat, with beautiful long black fur and a white undercarriage with socks. He weighed in at about 25+ lbs, maybe more. When Rowan teased Harry about his rather large belly, Darby always defended him by saying, he’s just large boned. Sometimes, when he lay on his back, she could see his pink tummy under the fur and couldn’t help but want to give his tummy a pet. He was extremely talkative, a very loud purring machine, and a bit of a wide load, but absolutely adorable to Darby.
Darby finished dressing and headed to the kitchen to fill Harry’s bowl. Harry knew this routine and followed her dutifully. He rubbed on her arm as she set the bowl down and purred with delight. When she finished refilling
Harry’s water bowl, she grabbed her keys, her license, a credit card, and all the cash she had in her wallet, locked the door, and headed out.
Paddy’s was a local haunt of young and old in Oljone. In this small town, everybody knew everybody and their business. Paddy’s was a comfortable place even for a single gal. There was a fireplace, a few comfy chairs, and a love seat to watch the mesmerizing flames of blue, green, orange, yellow, and white lick the log eagerly. Of course, there was a big wooden bar, lots of beer on tap, dartboards, and a fairly clean women’s bathroom. No gal likes an icky bathroom, especially if she’s drinking beer, because once you go the first time, you’re in there every 20 minutes thereafter.
Paddy’s wife, Kate, made the best burgers around and her fries, well, Darby felt “Yummy” covered it. Kyle worked most nights behind the bar. Darby had gone to high school with him. He was a firefighter full time, but after his wife, Jenn, had been diagnosed with breast cancer last spring, he had picked up this job to help pay for the piling medical bills. Darby walked into Paddy’s and went to the bar.
“Hey, Kyle – Happy Friday!” she said as she sat on the barstool.
“Hey, yourself, Darby! Good to see you!” he replied with a big smile.
“How did Jenn’s doctor’s appointment go this week?” she asked, hoping and praying for good news.
He beamed with a huge smile, “Good, Good! All the tests came back with good results, so we are hopeful! Her hair is starting to come back in now that the chemo sessions have stopped. She’s glad about that. She still has her good days and bad days, but the bad days are getting to be fewer and fewer. The doctors seem very optimistic, so we are thrilled!”
“Oh my God, Kyle! That is such great news.” She leaned over the bar and gave him a huge hug.
“Tell Jenn I hope to see her out and about soon, and send her my love!” Darby said.
“I will. I know she has appreciated all the books, flowers, and cards. You’ve been a great friend, Darby!” Kyle replied with a warm smile.
“Aw, well aren’t you just the sweetest thing! You’re going to make me cry! You and Jenn are just the best, and I can’t think of anyone that deserves to have some good news come their way more than the two of you!” Darby said, her eyes starting to well up.
“Thanks. So what can I get you? Are you here waiting on Rowan?” Kyle asked.
“Well, for starters, could you get me a pint of Red Hook and put an order in for one of Kate’s specials? As for Rowan, yeah! She said to meet her here, but I don’t actually expect her to show,” Darby answered.
While Darby talked, Kyle filled a glass with beer and set it, with a napkin under it, in front of Darby. He then grabbed the pencil behind his ear and pad from his rear pocket and jotted down her order. As he walked toward the kitchen he replied, “She’s just at that age. We all went through it. Hey, grab your seat before it gets crowded. I’ll be back in a flash; I’m just going to put your order in.”
Darby grabbed her beer and napkin and turned towards the fireplace, heading for the blue comfy chair she loved. She had jokingly told Kate one day, that if the chair ever disappeared, she would probably find it in Darby’s front room. It was wide enough to cross her legs and read a magazine or just ponder life. It was covered with the softest blue velvet; the cushions were perfectly broken in, in all the right places, and it seemed to form to her body perfectly. She took a big swig of beer before setting her glass on the coffee table and then she plopped down in the chair and stared at the fire. All the week’s worries and stresses seemed to melt away.
Kyle came back in and yelled across the room, “It’ll be about 15 minutes, Darby!”
“Thanks, Big Guy! No hurry!” She returned. She absent-mindedly pulled the heart-shaped stone of amethyst out of her pocket and began to rub it with her thumb. It helped her relax. It was the stone she most connected with and she always had it in her pocket. Her father had given it to her when she was a little girl. Now, whenever she would get nervous or stressed about something, she’d rub the stone.
She was in her own little comfortable world, when a dark figure took up a seat in the loveseat across from her. She noticed his presence. How could she not, it was like a neon sign in her head, but she continued to look at the fire. She sensed something from him. Something covered in darkness that startled her and she jumped as he started to speak to her.
“You are the water nymph that lives next door to me, aren’t you?” he said with a smirk.
“Huh? Water nymph?” He had caught her off her guard even though she knew he was there and had felt his ominous presence.
“I’ll Stop The World and Melt With you!” he sang perfectly.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, she grabbed her beer for something to do with her hands and answered, “Ah, my groupie!”
“At your service always, my liege.” He stood up and bowed to her like a peasant to his royal majesty.
“Hmmm,” she nodded her head with a little smile. But inside, she was as giddy as a little girl – she thought to herself, He is very smooth – maybe too smooth.
Then he smiled as if he had heard her thoughts.
She offered her hand to him, palm down, keeping up with the royalty act, and said, “I’m Darby O’Rielly. Who might you be?”
He took her hand and kissed it so tenderly that she thought she would have a heart attack from the tingling up her arm, and answered, “I’m Devon Bloomington and it is an honor to meet you, Darby O’Rielly.”
She flushed like she was a high school girl. This guy can’t be for real, can he? she thought. His shoulder length dark hair was slightly slicked back, but in a disheveled way. When he wasn’t smiling, his piercing eyes gave the impression that he could see every fault she, or an ancestor of hers, might have had. At the same time, though, his eyes were angelic and hypnotic. They were mahogany brown with flecks of caramel, and when he smiled they lit up like a little boy’s. The smile permeated every inch of his face. He had a mustache that seemed as though it hadn’t quite grown all the way in, but she felt that this may be its permanent appearance. He had a line of hair about a half inch thick that extended from his lower lip to his chin, meeting with a tiny tuft of a beard – a goatee of sorts, strangely seductive on him.
She hadn’t seen him standing but as far as she could tell, he was probably about six feet tall, thin and muscular, but his eyes – Wow! They just looked into her soul and took her breath away. Dumbfounded, she knew this man could have anyone he wanted, so why was he looking at her that way? The darkness she had noticed before had all but disappeared and this gorgeous man had taken its place – or was that her hormones talking? She didn’t know, and right now, she didn’t care.
She finally broke the silence with, “Thank you, Devon, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.” Not sure what else to say, she fumbled with, “I guess you are renting the house from the Bennetts?” Duh, she thought to herself. Obviously.
“Yes, my younger brother, Blake, and I have rented the house for the next three months; however, I’m not really sure my brother will be there much,” he answered, seeming somewhat disappointed.
“I understand that. My little sister, Rowan, lives with me too, but I rarely am blessed with her presence. She’s a firecracker and a whole lot of fun to be around, but she can be flakey sometimes. For instance, she begged me to come here to meet her tonight, but I doubt she’ll show. Don’t get me wrong, I love her to death, but I worry about her – a lot!” she said.
With a knowing nod, a smile, and a raised eyebrow, he replied, “Sounds like my brother and your sister are one in the same – Yin and Yang, so to speak.”
She took a long sip of her beer and replied, “Hmm. Could be.” Then she smiled, embarrassed. “Here I am drinking a beer in front of you, that is awfully rude! Would you allow me to buy you one?” she asked, figuring someone like this guy probably had plans on a Friday night and would probably bow out graciously and take his leave. He had probably just come over to tease her about her behavior earlier
that evening.
He seemed shocked at her offer and then maybe a little embarrassed as he said, “Someone such as yourself, shouldn’t be buying a gentleman a drink; it should have been me that offered you the gesture.” He looked down.
“What century are you from?” she joked. “Besides, since you are new in town and my burger will be coming any minute, I’ll buy you a beer and you can order the best burger you can buy anywhere around here and join me!” Again she thought to herself how stupid that had sounded. Why is it you can always think of the perfect thing to say, 20 minutes after the perfect time to say it?
He smiled again as if he had heard her thoughts, replied, “I would like that very much,” and chuckled, his eyes smiling and looking into her soul.
“Kyle, this is Devon Bloomington. He is renting the Bennetts’ house for the next three months. Could you put in an order for another “Special” and whatever he would like on tap?” she yelled.
“Sure thing, Darby. Welcome to Oljone, Devon. What can I get you to quench your thirst this evening?” Kyle yelled back.
“What do you have on tap?” Devon asked.
“Redhook, Anchor Steam, Bass, and Bud,” Kyle answered.
“Definitely Redhook,” Devon replied, and again, Darby flushed like a schoolgirl.
As the evening progressed, she expected Devon to get up and gallantly give his apologies in order to flee for a more engrossing engagement, but it never happened. They continued talking long into the night. The place got more and more crowded as the night went on, and many beautiful women tried to get his attention, but he never once looked at anyone but Darby.
She had learned that he was a software engineer and was there contracting for a startup company in Mountain View. He set his own hours and worked mostly from home. Guess those are the perks when you are really good at what you do, Darby thought. Devon was amazingly intelligent and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say. He had told her of his childhood in Europe, his travels there and in the states all the while with his brother in tow. His brother, Blake, was also a software engineer, but he dabbled in a lot of areas – arts, stocks, business, etc.
Blood of a Werewolf Page 1