by Mikea Howard
Again, amazed by her. She resonated nothing but truth as she worded everything to be clear of any deception for a Were or Shifter.
“Are you really tryin’ ta make me believe Arty told you nothin’?” Johnny crossed one arm, holding the gun trained on Tim.
“He hated you callin’ him that, and yeah. It’s exactly what I’m sayin’, you mustard plaster.”
The snake charmer, Violet, chimed in. “I doan’ taste a lie, babe.” She stepped closer. “But maybe her grands left her a message she ain’t aware of. Or the eagle coulda’ trained her ta answer carefully.”
“Yer tootin’ the wrong ringer. Tim’s got no part of my answer. And I doan’ know how ta find what yer after.”
Nothing but truth rang for Tim . . . and he knew for the rogue as well.
“Okay then, let me make it easier.” Johnny cocked his gun. “Either you tell me what you know, or I shoot yer Tim.”
Dottie screamed, “All I got is this damned locket.” Yanking it from her neck, she threw it across her land yacht.
It thunked on the wall once, but multiple pieces hit the ground. With his exceptional vision, secondary to his spirit animal, Tim clearly saw what happened at the very moment it occurred. The locket popped open and another internal piece swung wide, dropping a small brass key.
Now or never.
Lunging forward, he used the distraction, because he might not receive another. Tim gripped the barrel of the gun, twisting it in the opposite direction of Dottie. And assuring her safety, his top priority as it would be for the rest of his life.
Obviously, the coward pulled the trigger. The shot, loud at discharge, hit something Tim felt certain was inorganic. His course of action would’ve changed if the bullet injured Dottie in any way. Confident in her ability to take care of herself, Tim continued to flip the gun until Johnny’s hand broke, effectively dropping the weapon.
He slammed her ex-fiancé against the wall using a tight grip at his neck, and considered his options. Dottie remained unharmed by the man. Even though the creep crushed her trust, his survival or demise wouldn’t ultimately affect her. Johnny ceased to be a threat the moment Tim entered her life.
Is his death necessary? Might Dottie bear responsibility, and shoulder the guilt, if I kill him now? Might we fare better with a clean slate, void of blood on our hands?
Tim stopped applying pressure when the other man lost consciousness. While it might be punishable by death by the Animal Gang to have allowed their escape, it wouldn’t be his doing. He wouldn’t mourn the bastard’s death, but it also wouldn’t weigh on his soul . . . and more importantly, his woman’s.
Releasing the limp man, he looked up to his songbird as she threw her elbow into Violet’s face.
~ ~ ~
Despite the chaos erupting throughout the bus, Dottie let out a delirious guffaw.
How had she missed the obvious clues? Not only to the riddle plaguing the Animal Gang, but how her mother had lied all those years ago. Grandma Dorothea and Grandpa Thomas had never abandoned her. They’d arranged for Arthur to keep an eye on her, and ensured she’d be well taken care of even after they passed. The urge to hug someone, anyone, washed over her.
Violet sprinted past in a blur. Diving to the floor, the werewolf tossed crumpled papers and debris out of her way.
Forget the hugs, I wan’ ta choke the stupid bim.
Shooting out from the dining table booth, Dottie sprang to her feet. Violet, the booze dealing snake charmer, searched for her necklace. She’d be damned if Violet nabbed whatever fell out of her locket. It was hers, and the AG could take a long swim in a deep lake with cement shoes. The fortune Gramps left for her would never find its way into their grubby mitts.
Swinging her heel back, she used all her strength and momentum to bring it forward again. The long bones on the top of her foot made contact with Violet’s nose, sending her sprawling onto her back, blood pouring down her face. Apparently, although werewolves held preternatural strength, their bones broke as easily as any diesel dame’s.
The impact continuing to vibrate up Dottie’s leg suggested the aftereffects of the strike would haunt her later too.
Dropping to her knees, Dottie’s fingers flew about, searching. A piece of cool metal greeted her from under some documents. Wrapping it in her fist, she carefully sorted through the trash, desperate to locate the hidden contents. Unsure what she hunted for, Dottie had faith she’d know the instant she found it.
A growl vibrated from behind. Her nails digging into Dottie’s scalp, Violet yanked her back by her hair. Dottie swung her elbow behind, but failed to make contact with anything. Trying again, a satisfying thud rewarded her.
Violet tossed her to the side, sorting through the trash again, apparently unaffected by her wounds. Lifting her fist, she cried out, “Yes.”
Dottie’s stomach churned. “No!”
Out of nowhere Tim launched onto Violet’s back, his arm hooked around her throat. Holding her still, he squeezed into her windpipe. The expression on his face held no anger, only duty. Eyes soft, tinged with sorrow, his lips bore a frown.
The werewolf woman struggled for a while, clawing at his arm with her free hand, then quit. Easing the limp form to the floor, he pressed fingers to her pulse.
“She’s only unconscious, but as a Were she’ll recover faster than him.” He tossed a thumb to the front of the land yacht.
Dottie peeked around him. She caught Johnny’s form sprawled across the hallway. His chest still rose and fell in shallow breaths. The stupid creep deserved more, but she understood why Tim stopped.
“Here.” Tim drew her attention back to him by placing something in her palm.
Glancing down, she found a small brass key.
Releasing the fierce grip of her other hand, she inspected Grandpa Tom’s image, and the secret compartment hiding behind it all these years. Dottie tipped her wrist, letting the small metal piece drop into her palm. The key had fit perfectly, as though someone designed the locket around it.
“Okay, now we’re cookin’ with gas. We have the key ta my grandparents’ fortune, which is ducky. We’re all wet ‘cause we doan’ know where ta find the lock it opens.” Dottie let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh, and these goons are now aware I have a key and will try and nab it from us before I use it. Even with a head start, this puts us behind the eight-ball.”
Rising to her feet, she paced the crowded hallway. “You sure stoppin’ at the wolf camp is a good idea? Maybe we should try and find it”–she held up the piece of jewelry and its hidden prize–“before they do.”
Tim unfolded to his full height. “Yes, Na-qui-si, I’m sure. You must research and plan your next steps without worry. The AG won’t cross into the Blue Wolf boundaries. I believe the pack’s alpha strikes fear in them . . . or at least keeps them cautious.”
“If the alpha is such a big, bad bush hound, who says he’s gonna let me hide out there?” And why do you wanna leave me there?
Blinking slowly, he didn’t reply right away, as though processing her statement.
Glancing down briefly, he urged, “No time to worry about it. Grab your things, Na-qui-si, it’s time to go. Violet is starting to stir.”
Dottie swept the beach bag over her shoulder, heading toward the door. As she stepped over Johnny, the urge to kick him in his jingle bells surfaced. With a shrug, she took the higher road and continued down the steps, leaving him behind. Besides, a hard blow might wake him up earlier than planned.
Jus’ keep convincin’ yerself, Dottie.
Once off the bus, Tim laced his fingers with hers, giving them a squeeze. “Stay to the shadows with me. We need to make our way to the edge of town before I’ll be able to shift and fly us away from here without drawing attention.”
They’d traveled almost a block away when the re
st of the Animal Gang must have found the unconscious bodies. A flurry of shouting erupted, ending with a command of, “Find ‘em.”
Tim and Dottie quickened their steps, hurrying out of town.
Chapter 12
Pumping his wings, Tim gently set Dottie down in the open field, then shifted to human form.
Switching the bag of belongings from one arm to the other, she studied the ground before her. “Where are we?”
“A little over halfway to Blue Wolf Enclave. We should be far enough away from Black Diamond though. You hungry?”
Biting her bottom lip, but still not making eye contact, Dottie answered, “A little bit. Not as hungry as I should be. I guess my time in the in-between shrunk my stomach.”
“Hmm, there may be a hawk still at the enclave. She may be able to assist you.” Tim tilted his head, attempting to enter her line of sight.
She spun away from him, sniffing, and rubbing her hands on her face.
The last couple weeks had to be traumatic, or at the very least, jarring. She’s a city girl, a successful singer, and she’s been ripped away from everything. He had no idea what she most wanted to hear.
He prayed to the horned god. “In the light of the real world, please don’t let her decide she wants nothing to do with me or Weres and Shifters, in general.” He couldn’t blame her if she did.
Speaking quietly to the back of her head, he longed to stroke her hair. “I wish I could make this easier for you. The enclave will be a safe place. I trust them to take care of you.”
Tim reached out to caress her shoulder, but a soft sob stopped him. Taking a deep breath, he searched for something else to say to comfort her. When nothing came to him, he backed up, mumbling, “I’ll go hunt something for us to eat then.”
“Is it ‘cause I’m black?” she cried out, facing him.
Glancing down at his arms, at the red of his Native American heritage, he stared back up at her, confused by the question. “What?”
“Why you doan’ want me . . . Is it my skin?”
“No, Na-qui-si, your color is less important than the spirit which moves you . . . but even then, there is nothing I have ever desired more.”
“Then why? Why do you wanna dump me somewhere?”
“Dump you? I want to keep you with me always, but I long for you to be happy and well. I’ll ensure you are, whether it’s beside you or from afar.”
“What if I need you with me ta be happy?”
Tim nearly fell at her feet, the relief flooding him enough to make him boneless. “Truly? That’s how you feel?”
She peered up at him through wet lashes. “I’ve never been more certain of anythin’ in my life. I won’t stay at Blue Wolf without you . . . I’ll figure out a way ta follow you.”
“Oh, Dottie, you always bring music to my ears.” He stalked toward her, giving a predatory smile.
When she stared at him, standing her ground, he knew she’d accepted their connection.
Stepping in quickly, he captured her body, spinning her around and causing the bag she held to fall from her grip. He found her lips, licking along them until she opened for him. Tim poured every ounce of emotion into the kiss. It should’ve drowned her.
Pulling back, he met her eyes. “You don’t have to figure anything out. I’ll always find a way to have you with me. I love you so much. Never in my life have I felt this way.”
“Oh, thank the god and goddess and everyone else.” She laughed, laying another quick kiss to his mouth. “Yer everythin’, Guatimozin.”
His given name from her tongue nearly undid him. “Food will have to wait. I must show you how happy you make me.”
With a sexy smirk, she tapped her chin, backing away from him. “Hmm. I am pretty hungry. I’m not sure.” With a giggle, Dottie ran toward the trees surrounding the field.
The belly laugh Tim let out, completely foreign until he’d met his woman, rang through the woods. She made him enjoy playing again.
Chasing her to a copse, he captured the little nymph, spinning her around. He pressed Dottie against one of the large boulders erupting from the ground. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll feed you what you crave.”
“Sounds ducky.” She grasped Tim’s head in her hands and pulled him in for another deep kiss.
Her fingers tickled along his neck and threaded into his hair, tugging lightly.
Tim slid his hands down her body. Dragging his mouth along her cheek to her ear, he whispered, “My Dorothea.” He ran his tongue down the column of her throat. His palms caressing up her body, he followed along her arms and grasped her wrists. He pulled them back, directing her to lean her body weight onto them, effectively thrusting her chest forward.
She gasped. “Oh, Tim. Yes.”
“Hold on.” Tim licked along her collarbone as he grasped the bottom of her skirt, pulling it up to her waist. He ran his fingertip along her slit, sliding easily through the moisture. “By the god, what you do to me. You’re drenched.”
Her little mewling noises drove him on as he dragged his finger up to circle her clitoris then back down to her opening. He repeated the cycle, pressing his finger deeper with each pass. When she panted, he looped his elbow under one of her legs, pulling it up over his shoulder. With the open access, he pumped two fingers into her, using his thumb to stroke her clit.
She rocked against his hand, pleading. “Please. Make love ta me. I’m almost there, Tim.”
He popped his fly enough to free his cock, guiding his tip into her. He wanted to make it last, their first time acknowledging what they meant to each other. He made slow, gentle thrusts, bringing his hands down to rest on hers. Opening his mouth over her breast, he toyed his tongue along her nipple through the fabric of her top, sucking it deep, then he released it to move to the other side.
His woman obviously had other ideas. Using her leg on his shoulder as leverage, she pulled up and slammed herself onto him. With her other knee on his hip and her hands gripping the rock, she rode him.
The moment she moaned, Tim lost all restraint. Thankfully the smooth surface of the boulder she pressed against wouldn’t damage her soft skin, because he drove into her hard. Her back arched toward him, prompting him to bite down on her nipple, tugging.
Dottie called out his name as she orgasmed. Her core squeezed and released against his organ. The wave of movement on him so intense, he could do nothing but follow her over the precipice.
Softening, but still rocking into her, he said, “I’m sorry. I meant to last much longer.” He pressed his forehead into her shoulder.
She chuckled. “I’m not disappointed. You’ve always hit me like an atom bomb, a fast and all-encompassin’ explosion.”
“I guess that’s what soul mates do.”
“You really believe in such flimflam?”
“Believe? I know you are, Dottie. I’ve known since the first time your song reached my ears. Likely even before then, but I refused to trust at first.”
“So, what we have between us is actually somethin’ special . . . somethin’ meant ta be?”
“Look at me, Dottie, and tell me you don’t believe we are more than a passing fancy.”
Sighing deep, she nodded. “I know, Tim. But sometimes when you’ve been wrong before, it’s hard ta accept when yer right. Even when every fiber of yer bein’ tells you it’s different.”
“Please trust, you’re the only one for me.”
Chapter 13
`Dottie marveled at the concept of a soul mate, an intended destined to her since birth. Her Grandpa’s voice whispered through her mind. I existed as half a man before I met her, Smudge. Yer Grams completes my soul.
When she curled around Tim’s body, they fit like puzzle pieces, sliding easily into each other’s nooks and crannies. She’d imagined half of some
thing becoming whole would be a heavy sensation; maybe like wearing concrete shoes. With him, she felt lighter than air.
Straightening her spine, she knew as long as he walked beside her, she could handle anything. Even my first visit ta a werewolf enclave.
Dottie swallowed hard. Up until the mayhem with Johnny and Violet, the few Weres and Shifters she’d met in her life had been the bee’s knees. An entire town filled with them though?
Oh, God, what if they doan’ like humans?
Back on the island, kids used to tell stories about how humans would choose to leave the city and live like heathens. No one ever heard from them again because the Weres forced them to live in slave camps outside their enclaves. Rumors said they called those folks ‘scrubs’ because the Weres forced them to clean every home.
Cringing, Dottie chastised herself. Shame heating her skin, she shook her head. How could she let those old, close minded beliefs surface? No way would Tim associate with people who did such things to other beings. He’d devoted his life to helping people. Regardless of the internal pep talk, her mother’s voice way in the back of her mind whispered, Are you sure, suga’?
She studied him from under her lashes. His lips curled deep at the corners, causing her sex to twitch. The passionate mien softened into one of . . . she could only describe it as all-consuming love.
Yeah, I’m sure, Mama.
Closing the distance, Tim cradled her nape, drawing her to him. Long and lean in build, the power behind his hold thrilled her. Loving in his nature, she saw his hidden strength as a surprising, yet euphoric force guiding his passion. Crashing her lips to his, she took in his breath.
Breaking the kiss, he cursed under his breath. “By the god’s horns, Na-qui-si, I wish we didn’t have to, but we should get moving. The Animal Gang still has a capture-or-kill order on you. The safest place for you is in Blue Wolf.”