Howl For Me

by Sydney Somers, Marie Morin, Marlee Eastman (Romance)

  It was the nights she was worried about.

  Another plane was due in a couple of days, though. If she could just hold out until then and stay safe, she planned to be on it. If he followed her, and she knew he would, she'd make damned sure the authorities caught up with him and put him away for good this time!

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  Chapter Seven

  The club was crowded. Brooke had worn her best ‘pick me up’ outfit and she felt a little self-conscious when she arrived, more uneasy about the speculative looks that followed her to the bar than particularly pleased. Then again, there was something about the guests that had made her feel uneasy and out of her element from the time she'd arrived on the island, she thought wryly while she waited for the drink she'd ordered.

  "You waiting for somebody?"

  Startled, Brooke glance sharply at the man who'd come up beside her, settling a hand familiarly on her back just above her waist.

  He was an attractive man, his features more rough hewn than handsome—and familiar. She'd noticed him studying her rather intently more than once. She smiled with an effort. “Now how I'm to answer that?” she murmured, turning to take a sip from her drink for courage.

  She saw his lips curl into a slow smile when she looked at him again. “You only have to say taken ... or not taken."

  She found that comment vaguely offensive and struggled to keep her annoyance from showing. As if she was a possession! “How about if I just say I'm open to the idea of company?"

  His grin broadened. “Good enough. Care to dance?"

  Brooke chuckled that time in spite of a fresh wave of annoyance. He hadn't even bothered to introduce himself—or asked her name, which made it obvious he considered that superfluous. “I just got my drink,” she pointed out.

  He shrugged easily and ordered a drink for himself. “I'm a patient man. I'll wait."

  She laughed at that. “Are you?"

  He grinned at her. “Actually, not. But I think I can manage a little polite conversation if you're in the mood for it."

  She shook her head at him with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. “You go right for the jugular, don't you?"

  He barred his teeth in a predatory grin that was almost startling white next to his swarthy skin. “Usually. Especially when I know what I want."

  Brooke tried to tell herself that his frank admission was refreshing, but what it really was, was unnerving. That didn't, unfortunately, prevent her body from tightening in response. She allowed her gaze to wander over his face. “I expect you're used to getting it, too,” she said, deciding she might as well be as frank as he was.

  He shrugged. “Persistence generally pays off."

  She chuckled at that. At least he was modest. She doubted very much that he ever had to work that hard to get what he wanted. The man definitely had sex appeal in spades. Beyond his very appealing face, he was tall and well built if the knit shirt he was wearing was anything to go by ... and she was pretty sure it was once she got a look at his muscular arms.

  "So ... come here often?” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

  Brooke grinned at him. “The club?"

  He shrugged. “The island. I haven't seen you in here before."

  She didn't know whether to be flattered or unnerved that he'd so causally admitted that he had noticed her. “Actually, it's my first time. A friend arranged it for me."

  He gave her an assessing look. “That friend wouldn't happen to be named Dash, would he?"

  She reddened. “No. I only met him when after I got here. Are you a friend of his?"

  He grimaced. “Nope. I was just wondering if I needed to watch my back."

  She didn't know how to take that. “I don't think you need to worry about that,” she said dryly.

  He lifted one dark brow, but his eyes narrowed. “Did I give you the impression I was?” he asked coolly.

  Great! Another alpha male! What was it about her that seemed to attract them, she wondered? Before she could think up a response, he continued.

  "I just don't make a habit of poaching on another man's preserves."

  Anger surged through her at that. She glared at him. “I don't belong to any damned body,” she snapped. “If I did, I wouldn't be here. But if you're worried about getting into a pissing contest, don't hang around on my account!"

  Anger simmered in his dark eyes but after a moment he grinned. “Fiery little thing, aren't you?"

  She gave him a look. “I don't like being insulted ... and I do consider it an insult for you to imply I'm cheating."

  He studied her assessingly for a moment. “I'm sorry it sounded like that. You don't strike me as the kind of woman any man would willingly let go of if he managed to get you, though. I'm just trying to understand the situation."

  She was somewhat mollified by his apology ... and flattered by the comment that followed, even though she also considered it a somewhat backhanded compliment.

  Particularly since it instantly made her think of Billy.

  She shivered at the reminder, focusing on her drink.

  He brushed a finger caressingly along her cheek. “Now what brought on that look?"

  She tried to compose her expression. “What look?"

  His gaze flickered over her face. “The fear in your eyes,” he said dryly.

  He was amazingly perceptive—too observant. She forced a smile. “This is getting way too serious. I was hoping for a distraction when I came tonight."

  He studied her a moment and finally grinned. “In that case ... your place or mine? I promise to do my poor best."

  Disconcerted, Brooke merely stared at him for a moment with her mouth at half mast, but why quibble over it, she thought? He was offering exactly what she'd come for—company for the night so that she didn't have to worry about waking up and finding Billy standing over her bed. “Yours,” she said when it occurred to her that Billy might show up, and also because she thought he might get up and leave as soon as he was done if she took him to her cabin. If she went to his, he couldn't very well abandon her.

  He lifted a dark brow, giving her a knowing look when she picked up her drink and drained the last of it. “False courage?” he murmured as he slipped an arm around her and began to guide her through the crowd to the door.

  She pretended she hadn't heard that.

  A shiver skated down her back when they stepped outside and the cool ocean breeze washed over them, but she didn't think it was entirely due to the abrupt change from the nearly stifling heat from so many bodies crammed into the club. Anticipation was part of it. There was no denying that. He was attractive and it was both titillating and a little unnerving to hook up with a complete stranger.

  "Cold?” he asked, drawing her a little closer to his side.

  She glanced up at him. “A little nervous,” she admitted.

  He pulled her around until she was facing him, drawing her close and dipping his head to meet hers. His mouth was warm ... more than warm. Heat shot through her as she opened her mouth to him and allowed him possession of it. Memories of Dash's kiss flickered through her mind, but she firmly dismissed them, fiercely glad that the stranger could arouse her.

  Her blood was humming by the time he pulled away. He met her gaze when she finally managed to lift her eyelids. For a moment, he seemed to debate with himself. Finally, he smiled wryly. “Any more of that and we might not make it to my place."

  She smiled back at him a little dreamily.

  He chuckled. “None of that either ... unless you just want me to throw you down right here and fuck you senseless."

  She supposed, dimly, that she should have been disturbed by his bluntness. Instead, it set her heart to tripping over itself—made her almost as breathless and dizzy as his kiss had.

  They'd passed three bungalows when a man suddenly stepped out of the shadows ahead of them. Brooke's heart leapt into her throat. It didn't settle even when she recognized him.

  The man with her st
iffened. Slowly, he removed his arm from her shoulders.

  "She's taken, David,” Dash growled, his voice low and threatening.

  David eyed him assessingly. “I hate to contradict my host ... but she isn't ... yet."

  Brooke glanced uncertainly from one man to the other, thoroughly unnerved by the situation. She was too shocked to think of anything to say, however.

  Dash flicked a glance at her. “We can't settle this here."

  David studied him for a long moment and finally glanced at her. “She doesn't know,” he murmured when he looked at Dash again.

  "Know what?” Brooke asked shakily. “What's going on?"

  "Go back to your cabin, Brooke,” Dash said tightly.

  That order penetrated her fear enough to allow a dose of anger to surface. “No,” she said.

  Both men turned and looked at her then and Brooke took an uneasy step away from them when she saw the feral gleam in their eyes. Before she could decide what to do a third man stepped from the shadows behind her and caught her around the waist. “You're partially right. She is taken, but not by either of you,” Billy growled near her ear. “Ain't that right, baby?"

  Brooke sent a look of horror up at the man who held her tightly against him. “Oh god!"

  He grinned at her ferally. “Not quite ... though I do seem to remember you screaming that a time or two."

  She clawed at his hand, trying to break free.

  "Let her go!” Dash and David said almost in unison.

  "I don't think so. This is mine,” Billy snarled.

  "The alpha challenged you,” a stranger's voice intruded. “Either accept and fight for the woman or decline and leave ... without her."

  Billy's arm tightened around her until she felt like her ribs would crack. She whipped her head around, though, at the new voice, and discovered to her horror that there were easily a dozen of Dash's guests gathered in the area around them now.

  As abruptly as he'd seized her, Billy flung her away. She shouldn't have been surprised by his strength and yet she was, sucking in a sharp breath of fear as she flew through the air and slammed into the side of a cabin so hard it seemed to rattle every bone in her body. Stunned by the force of it, she crumpled to the dirt, only vaguely aware of vicious, animalistic snarls over the ringing in her head.

  Fear inspired her to open her eyes and she immediately regretted it.

  Billy didn't look like Billy anymore. His face had contorted horribly, his mouth and nose elongating to form a snout. Hair sprang from his skin all over.

  She tried to scream, whipping her head around in search of Dash.

  She didn't recognize him ... or David ... or any of the ‘men’ who'd been encircling them. Monsters stood where they'd been moments before, tearing at their clothing as their bodies mutated into something more horrible than any nightmare creature she'd ever dreamed of.

  Too shocked and terrified to manage a sound, she felt darkness crowding her mind. Blinking to try to dispel it, she discovered when she looked again that the monsters had vanished. In their places were wolves.

  The wolf she'd seen outside Dash's place uttered a snarling challenge and leapt at the wolf that was standing where Billy had been moments before. Billy—in some corner of her mind she knew it was him—leapt forward at almost the same instant and the two wolves came together with a meaty thud, snarling and growling and tearing at each other with long, pointed teeth.

  Still too wobbly from the blow to get to her feet, Brooke fought the darkness off and began trying to crawl away. The sounds behind her began to diminish, but she wasn't certain, at first, if it was because she'd actually made some progress in escaping or if it was the darkness that kept trying to swallow her. Reaching a tree, she rested for a moment and finally reached up to grasp the trunk, using it to help her haul herself to her feet. She leaned against it once she'd managed that much, fighting off the darkness, trying to regain her equilibrium.

  When she opened her eyes and looked around, she saw the pack of wolves had closed the circle around the two that were fighting. The urgency to find safety finally gave her the strength to push away from the tree. She staggered a little drunkenly, but she persevered, stopping every few moments to try to figure out where she was.

  Somehow, she made it back to her own cabin. Relief so profound it made her throat clog with tears surged through her. She locked the door behind her, but it didn't make her feel any safer. The light ‘airiness’ of the cabin was due to the large windows and sliding glass doors that let out onto the deck.

  The bathroom had a window, too.

  Her chin wobbled. There wasn't any place safe to hide.

  They were....

  She swallowed with an effort, wondering if fear ... or the blow to her head when Billy had slammed her against the bungalow had scrambled her brains.

  She moved to the closet after a few moments, crawled inside, and closed the door behind her, huddling in the dark and shivering.

  She was so cold her teeth were chattering. After trying to hug herself for warmth for several minutes, she finally realized it wasn't doing any good and climbed stiffly to her feet, feeling around until she found the blanket and pillow she remembered that were on the shelf.

  Settling on the floor again, she wrapped the blanket snuggly around her and curled into a tight ball, resting her pounding head on the pillow. She dozed off, or passed out. She wasn't sure which, but she surfaced abruptly from the comforting blanket of nothingness to stark fear.

  She could hear someone moving around her bungalow.

  "Brooke?"

  She clamped her lips together, held her breath.

  He opened the door, flooding her hiding place with light. She winced, throwing an arm up protectively.

  He crouched down until he was level with her, but he didn't attempt to touch her. “I'm not going to hurt you, Brooke,” he said quietly.

  Brooke lowered her arm and peered at Dash, swallowing convulsively several times.

  His face twisted. “Let me see how badly hurt you are, baby,” he said huskily.

  Brooke felt her chin wobble at the look in his eyes. “Dash?"

  He opened his arms to her. “I won't hurt you, baby. I swear it."

  She studied him doubtfully for a moment, but she need to feel his arms around her to feel safe. Uttering a sob, she launched herself at him. He enveloped her in his strong embrace, holding her closely to him, rocking her slightly as she sobbed against his chest. “You're freezing,” he murmured. Gathering her up, he straightened and carried her to her bed. He settled her for a moment to jerk the coverlet back and then moved her to the other side and flipped the covers over her.

  Crawling into the bed beside her, he gathered her close again, stroking her back soothingly until she finally stopped crying and settled to sniffing. He got up after a few moments and left, returning with tissue for her to dry her eyes and blow her nose, but joined her in the bed again. “I don't understand ... anything that happened,” she murmured finally when the coldness had finally left her.

  "I know.” His voice was grim.

  Brooke chewed her lip. “You're not...? You aren't...?"

  "Human?” he growled.

  Brooke stiffened at the anger in his voice and pulled away, staring at him with wide, frightened eyes.

  He uttered a sound of disgust. “Don't look at me like that, Brooke! I'm the same man who made love to you."

  Brooke swallowed with an effort, blinking at him as his words slowly sank in. “You made to love to me?"

  He scanned her face, finally meeting her gaze. A wry, self-depreciating smile twisted his lips. “I knew you were going to be trouble the moment I set eyes on you,” he murmured, lifting his hand slowly. When she didn't retreat, he caressed her cheek. “A werewolf always recognizes his mate, though."

  Brooke felt heat flood her cheeks. “Your mate?” she echoed.

  He pulled her closer until she was snuggled against his length again, nuzzling his face along hers. “It's in the kiss
,” he murmured teasingly.

  "It is?"

  He chuckled. “No."

  She arched her head back to look at him. “How did you know, then?” she asked curiously.

  He dragged in a deep breath. “Your scent drives me crazy."

  She didn't know how to take that.

  He chuckled at the look on her face and dragged her close for a deep, long, and thoroughly satisfying kiss. “The question,” he murmured when he'd broken the kiss to re-familiarize himself with her throat, “is do you know it?"

  "That I love you?” she asked dizzily.

  "Yes, that's the question."

  "I think I could be convinced."

  He uttered a huskily chuckle. “I was hoping you'd say that."

  The End

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