Werewolves of New York: Darik

by Faleena Hopkins

  “It was nice to meet you.”

  They nodded and murmured the same. Rose and Michelle looked the most uncomfortable.

  Don’t make me go home. Let me stay here and take care of him. Let me tell him I’m here for him. I’m here. I’m here…

  New York City sparkled outside the limo’s window as they drove west to her small, Chelsea apartment, flashes of blurred color zipping by. She couldn’t see any of it. Her mind was on him.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Eli said after they’d been silent for a long time.

  She glanced over. “So are you.”

  He stared at her for a beat. “You like my buddy, dontcha?” A deep dimple grooved into his stubbly cheek.

  She colored and looked back out the window. “What’s not to like?”

  “He’s a good one.”

  “I guess I’m just not good enough for him, huh?” She shot Eli a look.

  He frowned. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He didn’t answer and she turned back to the window. After a block’s worth of lights flickered across her face, she mumbled, “Up here on the right.”

  “Want me to walk you up?”

  “Aren’t you married?”

  He laughed outright. “You’ve got a sense of humor. Good.”

  She reached for the handle to let herself out. “Yeah. It’s great.” The door swung open and she nearly fell out, eyes flying up to the British chauffeur who stood on the sidewalk with his hand out.

  “Pardon me,” he said.

  Feeling like an inexperienced idiot, she took his hand and allowed him to help her out. With her flats firmly planted on the sidewalk, she bent down to peek into the car. “Thank you for taking me home.”

  “Thank you for…being discreet, Talia. We appreciate it.”

  That he remembered her name made her feel less inconsequential. “Goodnight, Eli.”

  The chauffeur shut the door and walked around to the other side of the car. She watched until the taillights turned at the first corner. Shaking her head lightly, she headed inside, thinking, Strangest ice cream run, ever.

  Chapter Ten

  With the intoxicating taste of her kiss lingering on his lips, Darik watched Talia leave. He hated that her feelings were hurt and he was unable to do anything about it. They’d all decided. He’d wanted her to stay, but they’d told him that with her watching his wounds she’d discover how quickly they healed. How were they supposed to keep their secret, then?

  As soon as the door of the elevator closed in the far off distance, Darik shouted, “This is bullshit!”

  “Save your strength,” Nate urged him. “You look like hell.”

  Dontae’s eyes glowed green-grey, “What do you want to do, tell a medical professional that we’re not human? She works with labs. In a government institution.”

  Darik shot back, “Hospitals aren’t run by the government.”

  “You think a scientist—which is essentially what doctors are—won’t go running to the police, the press, or worse, the President when they find a so-called-human walking around with wolf DNA? You don’t think someone wouldn’t want their name in lights for that little discovery?”

  “Dontae,” Nate warned.

  “Use your brain! Stop thinking with your little one.”

  Darik’s eyes turned luminescent ice. “Little? Come on now. I’m bigger than you.”

  “Okay. Enough.” Nathaniel walked to stand between the two wolves before they shifted. “There are women present.”

  “SO WHAT!” Dontae demanded.

  “My wife is present,” Nathaniel growled, losing his temper. “We’re not going to be talking about the size of your dicks anymore. Got it?”

  From his chair Darik clocked them, remembering whenever Michelle was concerned Nate’s wolf could not be trusted. He was about to tell Dontae to stop when D burst out laughing. Darik and Nate stared at him and then started laughing, too.

  Rose mumbled, “Well, that was fun.”

  Nate exhaled, still grinning. “I’m sure I’m not the only one who needs a drink.” He headed for the black, floor-to-ceiling closet that when opened, revealed a smaller room cut into the wall, a bar whose shelves had every fine whiskey and vodka you could imagine, labels all facing out from spotless glass shelves.

  “Martini, yes please, babe.” Michelle walked over to admire the selection, resting her hand on her husband’s back. “Dontae, this is impressive.”

  “He loves to be impressive,” Darik muttered. “Polite? No. Impressive? Yeah, that’s what’s important.”

  Dontae lost the smile and threw Darik a look. “You shouldn’t have brought her here.” He dropped onto the couch with a tired thump.

  “Oh, shut up. I can do whatever I want to do. We’re equals. All of us. I only agreed to letting her go because I don’t have the strength to fight you.”

  Over the sound of ice clinking into a slender, silver shaker, Nathaniel mumbled, “Not something D likes to remember,” referring to the ‘equals’ comment.

  “Am I the only one who cares about keeping our secret?” Nathaniel started shaking the martini, the loud crackling sound annoying the fuck out of Dontae. “HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS JUST BECAUSE OF A LITTLE PIECE OF—”

  The shaker froze mid-air. “Watch it,” Nathaniel warned.

  Dontae stormed to the window, turning his back on the whole situation and everyone involved.

  “It’s been a long night for all of us. We’ve gotta give each other a break. And where the fuck is that delivery with my food?” He glanced over to Rose, “When you were alone with her, what was she like? Was she mad?”

  Rose kicked her shoes off and tucked her feet under her on the long couch. “She knows something is up, but also knew not to push. She’s no dummy. She didn’t seem mad, though. Just really wanting answers.” Rose frowned and called over to Nate, “Can I have a Jameson, neat?”

  Dontae opened the curtains wider, staring out at the beautiful city. The spear of the Empire State Building changed lights in the distance from red to yellow. “Of all the whiskeys I’ve got…”

  Rose cocked an impatient eyebrow at the glowering wolf’s back and repeated firmly, “Jameson, Nathaniel. Please and thank you,”

  Reaching under his t-shirt to run a thumb over the new stitches, Darik said, “Give me a Macallan.”

  “Already got it.” Nathaniel lowered a full glass over his friend’s shoulder.

  “Now that’s a lot of booze. Why didn’t you give me this before the surgery?” He lifted the glass to his lips and drank. “Hey Dontae, Nate, you ever been shot?”

  “Never.”

  “No.”

  “Well, it feels funky. Where the bullets went through, the holes have grooves in them that are moving. I can feel my skin coming back together”

  With a frosty Grey Goose martini in one hand, Michelle joined Rose on the couch and handed her the Jameson. Nathaniel walked to Dontae and tapped on his shoulder. With a raised eyebrow that relaxed as he saw the offered glass of Scotch, Dontae grumbled, “Thanks.”

  “I think you can let the worrying go, D. She’s not going to say anything. She wants to see him too badly.”

  Darik glanced over, surprised yet hopeful. “Even after we sent her away?”

  Needing him to understand the implications, Dontae used a measured tone to explain, “This one is different. She is in medicine. We defy science. What if one day she decides—?”

  “Just stop. Please, just fucking stop,” Darik groaned and closed his eyes, leaning back.

  When he awoke, he was on the couch under a blanket. He was alone, but he knew Dontae was still in the apartment. He could hear in the distance the low, heavy tapping of someone working at a keyboard. He didn’t know what time it was, but he didn’t doubt for a moment that his oldest friend had never left the flat. No matter what came up, Dontae would have shirked it to stay here and keep watch.

  Squinting his foggy mind toward the window, he was su
rprised to find faded sunlight seeping into a slender crack in the curtains. Dusk has a different shade of grey than dawn—bluer, less golden. Was it late afternoon the next day? For them to have moved him from the chair to the couch without him waking up was indication enough that he must have been really out of it. But sleeping for this long? It was unheard of. His wolf was nocturnal. Day sleeping, it preferred. Sometimes he forgot that because for twelve years of his life he hadn’t been that way.

  He sat up slowly, gauging his pain level as he rotated his shoulder. Lifting up the t-shirt, he inspected the blood-soaked gauze. It was dark red. Dried. A good sign. He lifted it up and took a peek. The stitches Talia had sewn were impressive, tight and as straight as a sewing machine could have made. There was old, caked blood but where the skin was stitched together, it looked healthy and almost like new. This wasn’t done in one night.

  “Dontae?!”

  A door opened in the far end of the flat and Dontae appeared a moment later. He was naked, hair disheveled as he headed for the kitchen.

  “Want some coffee?”

  “Nah. Caffeine doesn’t sound good right now.”

  “Pussy.”

  Darik chuckled, and the sounds of a coffee grinder followed soon after. When Dontae returned with a steaming cup, he plopped down on one of the leather recliners. “How ya doing?”

  “Still can feel the skin reconnecting in weird ways.”

  Dontae smiled as he took a sip. “Imagine how vampires feel.”

  “You fucking asshole. You’re always teasing me with that. Now tell me—for once and for all—are they real?”

  His amused friend waited a few moments to add suspense, then shrugged and grinned. “I’ve never met one. But who’s to say?”

  “What if they’re real and we regenerate faster than them? Maybe like the full moon myth, their immediate healing is bogus.” Darik wrapped the blanket around his body as he set up. “You never know.”

  “You never know,” Dontae agreed, glancing pointedly to the coffee table.

  “What?” Darik saw a piece of paper lying there and reached to grab it. “What’s this?”

  “Talia’s address. Eli left it.”

  Darik’s eyebrows went up as he met a cool, hazel stare. He read the numbers then looked up again. “And you didn’t burn it?”

  A mischievous smile tugged at his friend’s lips. Dontae was clearly happy Darik was awake and doing better, because he was in an awfully good mood. “I considered it. But Eli has a very good memory for numbers.”

  Darik stared at the paper, memorizing the address. “Did she ask him about me?”

  “What am I, a teenage girl?” Dontae got up and walked out of the room. He walked back in. “Where am I going? I’m stuck here playing nurse-maid.” He plopped back down, flaccid cock bouncing. Taking another sip from the coffee cup, he regarded Darik’s smile with annoyance. “What?”

  “You could have someone else play nursemaid.”

  “No.”

  “You’d be off the hook.”

  “Ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Call her.”

  Dontae sighed. “Do you see a phone number on that piece of paper?”

  “With your computer hacking skills, you can’t find a number from an address and a name? And here I thought you were the best.” Darik tightened the comforter around himself.

  His friend shook his head. “You’re gonna have to wait for this one. If there’s something there like you think there is, she’ll wait for you. What are you gonna do, spring it on her, ‘Hey look, it’s been days and I’m healed! Stitches? You want to see stitches? What stitches? Oh the ones you put in yourself? Sorry, can’t show you.”

  “Okay! Okay, I hear you.” Darik leaned back. “How long was I out?”

  “Three days.”

  “What???!!!”

  “Yep.”

  “Holy what?”

  “Yep. Three. Two nights. I thought you were about to sleep through the third but here you are.”

  Darik stared into the distance, stunned. “No wonder I’m so hungry. Who ate the steaks?” Dontae just raised his eyebrows. “Pigs.”

  “No. Wolves.” He smiled, taking a healthy gulp. “Ah, fuck that’s good coffee.”

  “Order me a steak. Now.”

  “Order it yourself,” Dontae reached for his cell phone, snatching it up from the coffee table. He tossed it to Darik.

  “Some nursemaid. Talia would have ordered it.”

  “That little spitfire? Think again.”

  Darik smiled, glad for the compliment. “So, you do like her?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  Then he froze.

  Darik cocked his ears, too.

  There was a heartbeat pounding outside the flat in the building’s hallway, and it didn’t belong to Dontae’s one neighbor, a woman who spent half her time in London and was there now.

  Dontae exhaled and set the cup down. “On second thought…”

  Chapter Eleven

  Talia had been climbing out of her skin. Underneath everything she’d done was the nagging desire to check up on him. She hadn’t mentioned the robbery to Jonas. The air of secrecy among Darik and his friends combined with her aiding the hero of the day in his odd escape, made her keep her mouth very, very shut. How would she explain to police what had happened, if they ever questioned her? The fewer people who knew about what happened the better. And Jonas wasn’t exactly the quiet type. Nor were his friends. They lived big, and a story like this? Too hot to keep mum about.

  She was loath to admit that she didn’t just want to check up on his well being, she wanted to be around him again. She missed the connection she’d experienced when they were alone in the ally. She’d replayed those intimate moments with him over and over despite her desperate desire to let it go.

  She hesitated with her fist in the air and ready to knock. Her heart slammed in her chest. She didn’t even know if Darik was inside, but since she didn’t know where he lived, this was her only way to find him.

  This is insane.

  You’re going to make a fool of yourself.

  Turn around and go home!

  She flipped around, heading away. Behind her, the deadbolt turned in the lock. Her heart stopped. She froze, her back to the door as it opened, launching her into a full-on panic attack. She couldn’t look. It was too scary. After five silent seconds so awkward the cast of The Office would have squirmed in their seats, she heard Dontae’s low voice.

  “Yes?”

  She slowly faced him, glancing down to his white robe loosely tied around the waist. He had total bedhead, which made him appear on first glance so much less imposing. But those hazel eyes were cold and calculating. Like he could see her thoughts.

  Her voice cracked a little. “It’s hard to believe you and the guy who rescued my clutch bag are the same person.”

  His eyes flickered. She’d hit a weak spot. He opened the door wide, allowing her entrance. She paused in surprise then walked in, eyeing him suspiciously. She smoothed down her hair self-consciously as her low, black heels clicked on the matching tile floor. She’d dressed up for this…had changed outfits five times, settling on a black skirt and lavender blouse that flattered her curves and the warmth of her eye color.

  A shaking hand raked again through her long dark hair as she walked into the living room to find Darik looking much better than he had when she’d seen him last, although he was wearing the same clothing. Odd.

  Again, his sapphire-blue eyes were locked on her the moment she appeared. He must have heard her come in because he didn’t look surprised to see her. The way he looked at her lit her skin up and pretty soon waves of goosebumps drifted down her body. She parted her lips to speak, but he beat her to it.

  “Talia.” He removed the blanket and set it down next to him. Hadn’t his friend given him something else to wear?

  She smiled and glanced behind to see if Captain Asshole was following. He wasn’t. Relieved, she turned back. “Hi�
��Darik. How are you feeling?”

  “Better.”

  She stepped closer. “I see that.”

  Though she didn’t know why, he appeared almost embarrassed. He looked down and scratched his beard in thought. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but he mumbled only, “Yeah.”

  “Can I take a look?”

  His head flew up. “Um, I’d rather you not remember me like this.”

  She frowned. “Remember you? What, are you going to die or something?”

  He blinked, slowly shook his head then held out his hand. She stared at the size of it, the lines on his palm that stretched in every direction. She wished she knew how to read those lines, maybe it would explain him. She wanted to unlock the mystery.

  “Your hand’s warm again. It was clammy the other night.”

  He nodded as though he hadn’t heard her. His eyes were traveling up and down her body. “You…look great.”

  She blushed and whispered, “Thank you.” He threw the blanket on the floor and guided her to sit beside him. “Aren’t you afraid of Dontae having a fit?”

  There was an inner strength behind his answer. “I’m never afraid of what Dontae thinks.”

  “Oh. From how he was acting the other night, I thought–”

  “–the other night I’d been shot. He was taking the reins to help me. There was a good reason.”

  She quieted and her heart jumped with hope.

  As though he heard it, Darik’s gaze dropped to her chest. As he stared she felt heat building there. He didn’t seem aware he was locked on her breasts; he seemed to be looking past them. Could that be? Was he listening to her heart? She’d seen hundreds of times doctors use the same expression when they concentrate and listen to a heartbeat.

  He leaned down to kiss a slip of exposed skin just above the top button of her blouse. Doctors did not do that. She held her breath as his lips gently pressed there, then stayed with more pressure. Warmth pooled out from between her thighs. He paused and stopped breathing, his gaze dropping to her skirt. Suddenly he leaned back and blinked like he was in some kind of struggle.